#it's been a damn good while since i've written anyways

[bucketinyourwalls]

Body Guard!Postal 4 Dude x Reader

WARNINGS: Slight angst, mentions of a gunshot and stab wound, blood, OOC Dude (I’m far too dumb to get his personality right), rushed and shit writing

Word Count: 1449

A/N: It’s been a good while since I’ve written anything so I’m sorry if this turns out to be shit. And thanks to @strawbrygashez for inspiring me to take a stab at writing fanfiction again so I can write about two old people in love <3. And as an add-on, gonna have this take place after the events of Postal 4, primarily since I’m too lazy to look up the lore and try to remember everything about this game past Tuesday.

“Come in.”

You stared at the door as you heard a knock, assuming it was the new bodyguard your boss had sent you. You were due for a meeting with one of the people you work with in a few days, so your boss figured you’d need a bodyguard. She knows you’re able to fight and defend yourself if all goes to shit, but you’re getting up in age and figured extra help would be nice. Besides, having a bodyguard would be nice. At least for this job.

But with those thoughts finishing up, you saw a man enter your office. And to say the least, he looked like shit. Guy was in a purple bathrobe of all things and may as well just be wearing pajamas. And... are those socks with sandals?? But eh, whatever. Maybe this guy will be better aside from his appearance and god awful smell.

“I’m assuming you’re the bodyguard my boss hired?” You stared at him as you spoke, carefully studying the man as he sat down.

“Uh, yeah. That’s me, I guess.” He responded while glancing around the place, seemingly bored. And honestly, you don’t blame him. The place wasn’t too interesting, nor was the job. And for a man of his age from what little scraps of information you’ve gotten, the work would better be suited for someone younger. Or just someone with an actual interest.

“Mm, yep. Say, aren’t you just a tad too old to be working jobs like these? Or are you just doing this for fun while in retirement?” You continued staring at him while speaking, with the man quiet for a few seconds before laughing. “Man, you’re kind of funny. If that’s the case, wouldn’t you be too old for this kind of shit as well-?” He asked while looking at you, crossing his arms and seemingly enjoying the interaction between you two.

“Ah, I wish. That would be so damn good to just get some rest...“ You softly smiled at his words while thinking, but quickly returned to a more serious demeanor. “So, ‘Postal Dude’, right? Man, your parents must have hated you for that to be your legal name. And as an extra note, couldn’t you have come in something just a bit more professional? Plus, you smell like shit.” You kept examining him while questioning, wondering just why he had to come here dressed like that. What the hell does your boss see in this guy?

“Eh, don’t care much. Just here for some quick cash. And yeah, guess my parents really did. But eh, at least the names a bit funny.”

With his answer you just sighed, getting up from your desk and placing a hand on his shoulder as you headed towards your door. “It’s almost lunch, so I’ll be going now. But, for the day that you do start working with us make sure you actually smell good. And try to dress at least decently. I don’t want to be seen with a guy that goes to work in a bathrobe.” And without further words you walked out to grab lunch, not bothering to let him ask for anything further.

For now, until the job was over the two of you were stuck with each other. And after the job, you two were still stuck.

Surprisingly, he did a really good job. And so, your boss permanently hired him for the rest of your work. At first it definitely wasn’t the best, but thankfully you two actually managed to become friends, and your work is now just more enjoyable. Hell, you even managed to gain a little crush on the guy. It was confusing as hell, but you already knew the feelings weren’t mutual.

Especially now that you’re dying in an alley.

Hah... how could a simple smoke break jump to you being attacked by three guys looking to take your shit? God, the world is so shit. And now because of a simple smoke break, you had a gun wound near your side and a deep stab wound in your thigh. Maybe even a badly bleeding cut near your neck. Not even mentioning all the other less deep stab wounds closer to areas considered fatal and all the little cuts constantly stinging. Either way, you’re bruised quite badly, your face is bloodied to high hell, and you’re bleeding out.

“Heh... this sucks.” You quietly muttered to yourself, holding to your bleeding side and trying to keep all the blood in. If you’re lucky, maybe Dude would find you. Maybe he would save you. But, you already knew that was a hopeless possibility. Life isn’t a fairytale, after all. It’s shit, and people die. And now, you were about to be one of those people.

God knows how long you just sat surrounded by trash and your own blood. You could already tell that your vision was slowly going black and fading. Guess this dingy alley is where you’d die, huh? Too bad you never got to tell Dude about your little crush on him. Too bad you never got to say proper goodbyes to what family you have left, both biological and found. Too bad you never got to finally retire.

But none of that mattered now. Your consciousness was quickly slipping, and your body slowly went limp. And as the black void nearly consumed your vision, you heard a voice yelling out for you, with both the voice and rapid footsteps quickly coming closer. It was Dude’s voice. But, none of it mattered anyways. At least he was willing to help you, even if you were on your dying breath.

But just maybe, you managed to live. It’s a surprise to be sure, but a pleasant one. And speaking of pleasant surprises, you slowly woke up and softly hissed at the bright lights, having to take a while to adjust to the sheer white.

“Jesus, I thought I lost you!”

At the words you slowly looked over to your right, beholding a noticeably concerned Dude sitting by your side. Did he really wait here the whole time?

“Dude-? Did you really wait for me?” You asked while quietly chuckling, with Dude blushing a small but noticeable shade of red. Huh, weird.

“Hah, you look cute when you blush.” You chuckled again, enjoying his reactions before he gently grabbed your hand, wearing a concerned expression.

“C’mon, quit joking around. You could’ve died y’know. Tch, you’re a fucking dumbass.” As he spoke his voice was laced with concern, with his eyes constantly darting around. Even with his sunglasses on, it was noticeable as all hell. “Damn, you sound so sappy. It’s disgusting, stop that.” You joked while playfully hitting his shoulder, doing what you could to cheer him up and keep yourself calm at the same time. But well, it wasn’t quite working for either of you.

“Besides, why do you care so much? Not like you’re in love with me or anything.” You continued joking around, but his awful silence and growing blush certainly said another story. “You’re not actually in love with me, right?”

For a good while he remained silent before smirking, quietly laughing as he put an arm around your shoulder, mindful of your wounds. “Of course I am, and I know you are too. What, don’t think I’d notice the little crush you had on me?”

And now was your turn to become flustered. Has it really been so noticeable the whole time? But either way even with his words, you were simply glad that your feelings were mutual. And for the first time in a while, just glad to be alive.

“Well, I’m glad those feelings are mutual.” You softly chuckled before gently grabbing his chin, moving a few loose gray hairs out of the way while admiring his cute ass face. “May I?”

“Of course, my love.”

And with his confirmation, the two of you shared a kiss. And honestly, it was better than you thought. On both ends it remained soft and satisfying, lasting for as long as it needed until the two of you pulled away from each other. The slightly dazed look resting upon his face was certainly a sight to behold.

“You look so fucking cute, y’know that?” You softly smiled at him and his dazed face, with him doing the same. “And so do you, my love. God, I love you so fucking much.” And with his response you continued smiling, resting your forehead against his own. The moment was so nice. It was so peaceful. And the two of you never wanted it to end.

“I love you so much, Dude.”

“Hah... love ya too, my dear.”

[sysig]

Nice healthy obsession you got there (Patreon)

[yzashaven]

pairing ☆ scaramouche x fem!reader

content warnings ☆ nsfw content ahead. unprotected sex. hate fuck. rough sex. slapping. spanking. degradation + praising. overstimulation. nipple sucking. creampie. hair pulling. marking. riding. mating press. prone bone. "whore, slut, baby"

note .ᐟ HEYYY so like... it's been a while, yes? 3 months since my last post, how is everyone? i made this yesterday randomly at 3am and didn't really feel like posting it on the new blog (that is still in progress) also I AM SO SORRY if this is in any way bad?? i'm so rusty... i haven't written in so long but gosh it felt nice to finish a work and i thought it would be a good idea to put it here just because i felt like it akbsuwhs the plot is kinda all over the place i have no idea—anyway, if i missed anything in the warnings, please let me know! i hope you guys will enjoy reading this ♡

word count ☆ 0.98k

the sight of you riding him was the last thing he expected to enjoy seeing. the way your face has pleasure written all over it, your breasts bouncing with each move your hips make, body trembling from the feeling, and most especially, the way you moaned so lewdly.

he loved it, yet hated you.

he hated your cocky and annoying attitude, always teasing and defying him no matter when or where you were. why do you always think you're better than him? you never will be. well... at least that's what he thinks.

putting you in your place was always the one thing he wanted to do. but as much as he wanted to do so out of anger, the hidden sexual tension between you was no joke. he couldn't avoid it.

he wants to slap you, punch you, hit you in some way. but at the same time he feels like pounding you, pushing your face down into the bed, shutting you up with his fingers in your mouth. no matter how much he thinks you're the absolute worst, he can't deny how attractive you are. and it just fuels his desires even more.

his eyes dart down to watch the way his cock disappears into your pussy, smirking to himself, "such a filthy slut. you take me so well, don't you?" hand reaching behind to grab a fistful of your hair, pulling it back, exposing your neck to him. he doesn't hesitate to lean it and mark you as his.

moving down, he sees your hardened nipples from arousal. his lips wrap around the sensitive area and gently suck on one, tongue flicking on it every now and then. he pulls away and finally lets go of your hair. hands going over to grip your hips now before he spoke up, "getting tired already? gosh, you're weaker than i thought."

you shake your head, about to respond but he doesn't let you. two fingers suddenly filling your mouth, "don't even think of speaking," he whispers and lays you down on your back, "i'm gonna fuck you hard, and you'll take it like a good girl, won't you?"

a red hue spreads across your face. speechless, you nod silently. he smirks and playfully spanks your ass, "atta girl." in one thrust, he fills you up completely. grabbing your legs and bringing them up to your chest. his cock is way deeper inside you in this position and he knows that very well.

capturing your lips in a rough kiss, he began to thrust in and out of you, slow in pace but definitely powerful. gradually getting faster, wilder, with each passing second. your hands come up around your legs to hold them in place, spreading yourself for him.

finally pulling away from the kiss, you try to catch your breath but moans flow out of your lips one after another. to add to it all, he brings his thumb down to rub your clit. it was visible from your body language that you were close to an orgasm. so close.

"you gonna cum around my cock like a good whore, baby?" he chuckles. his other hand comes up to your face, playfully slapping you, "i've always wanted to do that since you're so damn annoying." narrowing his eyes, he glares down at you.

"as if you aren't as well!?" you exclaim back, but it fails—he pinches your clit, drawing out a lewd cry from you. "be quiet and i'll let you cum. come on." you look up at him and make eye contact. he isn't moving anymore, his cock just buried deep inside you. the moment is rather intimate, or so you thought.

"fuck you, scara–"

"you're doing just that and you're still complaining?"

you glare up at him, giving up and letting your head fall back onto the soft pillows, "just fuck me already, fucking hell." you unexpectedly say. he smiles, "gladly."

before you could even register anything else, he was already pounding into you. rough, hard, and fast. giving your clit a sufficient amount of attention as well. all of it was completely overwhelming and all you could do was scream out his name as you came around him. gripping the sheets so tight that your knuckles turned white, your whole body shaking.

"fuck–so good... you feel so fucking good squeezing my cock like that, baby." he groans before finishing inside you. keeping himself in place for a while as he calmed himself down before pulling out gently. he silently watches as your body continues to tremble. scaramouche sighs and gently stimulates your clit, "aww, shh... there there..." the gesture causes you to get overstimulated rather than soothed.

"i'm still hard, just so you know." his voice low as a whisper. "let me just..." flipping you over, he puts you on your hands and knees, entering you from behind and making your body weakly fall flat on the bed. he sighs and just gets on top of you, pushing himself back deep into your wetness.

his bare chest to your back, your body quivering beneath him as he began to thrust into you again. starting at a slow pace that gradually got faster, fucking you properly. leaning down, he whispers right into your ear, "such a perfect cunt you've got, huh?"

you're already so close. the head of his cock brushing over your g-spot every now and then. his body trapping you under him, leaving you with no choice but to take what he gave. drool was already seeping from out of the corner of your mouth from how long you've had your lips apart, occupied in moaning his name over and over again.

as much as he despised you, he could never even think of denying how much he adored the fucked out state you were in. all because of him.

[mydarlingclaudia]

I’m still coming back to you

note : divider is from @/aquazero. I've never written smut before, plus this is probably ooc, so I'm sorry if it's not the best. I based this off of She's My Collar by Gorrilaz. since this is smut mdni.

wc : 1.3k

desc : you and Leon have something special, neither of you would trade it for anything. smut!! - oral (f receiving), more focused on Leon's pov, fwb (kind of??), Leon being kinda head over heels for you, a little bit of angst, not proofread, fem!reader, wrote this with DI!Leon in mind

Leon thinks he might be in love with you. You’d always welcome him into your home, or he’d welcome you into his. You helped take the stress away from his work and made him forget that everything was out to get him. The two of you weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend, but he knew damn well that he was yours and you were his.

It was routine. Leon would come back from a mission, wash up real quick, make his way to your apartment with a gift for you in his hand, and you’d be there waiting for him, like you usually were.

He’s been doing this with you for a while now, he’d met you at a bar in D.C. a few years ago, a one night stand turned into the two of you continuing to run into each other whether at the same bar or anywhere else in the city, and that led to more nights of the two of you passed out in his bed or yours, wearing nothing but love-bites and blankets. He liked you a lot more than he’d anticipated, he liked doting on you a lot, too.

Leon coming home from a mission wasn’t the only time he’d see you. He had a busy schedule, you knew that, that was the pretty much the only thing you knew about his job besides it being doing dangerous things for the government, but he’d try to see you once every couple of weeks at the very least. His arrival wouldn’t always be a surprise, he liked taking you out to dinner almost as much as he liked having sex with you. Leon did his best to plan dates with you, they weren’t ever anything really mind blowing, usually just dinner dates or him taking you shopping. Leon liked watching you try on dresses, he liked sharing a bottle of wine with you, he liked spending some money on you.

He couldn’t stay away from you, and you couldn’t stay away from him, he could die and still find a way to get back to you.

Leon never asked for your number, he hardly used his phone for anything outside of reading the news and work, he figured that if he had your number, he’d never put his phone down. Of course, that didn’t keep you out of his mind all day long. And it’s not like him not having your number made him unable to ever see you, he knew where you lived, he knew your work schedule. If he was to drop by your house and you weren’t there for some reason, he could just leave a note taped to your door telling you to come meet him at his apartment.

Leon also thought that if he got your number and ended up losing his phone on a mission and it got into the wrong hands and they somehow found out about you, then things wouldn’t end good for either of you. That’s why after he joined the DSO he hasn’t been in an actual relationship, as much as he longed for one, he knew he couldn’t risk it. You were the closest he could get to that, he’d never really be able to date you, but you seemed happy with what the two of you had. Marriage and kids probably wouldn’t be his scene, anyway. And even if his relationship with you was able to get that far, he couldn’t just leave you home alone with a baby for weeks at a time, he’d feel horrible about it.

You’d never really talked about it, you’ve joked about it a few times, but there wasn’t really any significance behind them. It’s better that way.

Leon was lucky that you were his, even though it wasn’t official. He could pretend his life was normal for a few nights when he was with you.

The nights where he felt the most normal, was when he had his head buried between your thighs after he cooked you steak in the comfort of his apartment.

He’d just come back from California, as always, he didn’t say much about the mission other then it was more complicated then it should’ve been. Leon had told you that he went to the store and bought everything he needed for steak, all you needed to do was go home with him, which you were more than fine with. You always loved his apartment, it was comfy and smelled like him, you’d left a few of your own things there over the years. You knew what was going to happen when he knocked on your door, sometimes after missions he just had this look to him that told you he needed your help de-stressing, you were always willing to help.

Your back is pressed against Leon's bed while your hips are supported by his hands, your thighs rest on his shoulders, occasionally squeezing his head while he kneels between them. A string of shaky pants and whines fall from your mouth as he continues to eat you out, your grip on his hair tightens as you buck your hips against his face.

One of his hands leaves your hip to press down on your stomach, keeping you still against his mouth. Leon pulls away from you, pressing his face against your thigh and biting it gently.

"Stay still, like I told you." Leon mumbles softly, pressing down on your stomach a bit harder, the hand that had remained on your hip slips down to hold the underside of your thigh.

"C-Can't-" You whimper, weakly digging your heels into the back of his ribs to try and bring him closer once again.

"You can't?" He teases, raising an eyebrow and pulling further away from you slightly, to which you whine at. You removed your hand from his hair and sat up on your elbows and huffed, Leon only chuckled softly and reached up to place a hand over your chest, pushing you back down. Leon let his hand slide down over your breasts that were spilling out of the bra he hadn't bothered to take off of you after he covered your chest with soft indents of his teeth and hickeys, his hand returned to your hip before he attached his mouth back to your aching sex, sucking roughly.

Your thighs tightened around Leon's head again, refusing to let him go as your back arched ever so slightly off the bed so you could grind against his mouth. This time, he didn't pull away or scold you about keeping still, he just gripped your hips tighter and pressed his face against your cunt, lavishing attention to the sensitive flesh.

Leon always tried his best to savor you, even though you've done this together countless times. He loved the noises you made for him when he found the right spot to suck on or grind against, his memories of moments like these with you are what got him through tough missions, along with knowing that he'd get to do this all over again with you when he got home.

Your hand finds its way back into Leon's hair, he grunts against your flesh, giving your thigh a light slap as he pulls his head a few inches away, his breath fanning across your cunt.

"I know you missed me, but be patient. I've got you, I promise." He reassures you before he drags his tongue slowly up your slit, listening to you as you moan.

Your grip in his hair only tightens as you rock your hips again, feeling his tongue delve deeper to eat you out more thoroughly. He always did this; the teasing. You loved it.

Leon's down there for another five minutes before your orgasm washes over you, by the time he's done licking you clean, he's already gotten his belt buckle off and his pants unzipped, trailing wet kisses up your body before his lips meet yours. He'd never get tired of this, even if he does it one thousand more times, he'd do it happily. He's got you, and you're the best thing life has ever thrown his way.

[hades--baby]

To Die Like This

Summary: Stuck in the Tundra with a bullet in your side, blood in your eye, and the agonizing feeling that your captain was going to throw an absolute fit when your bleeding body walked through the threshold of the safe house.

Note: There's just something about Price being so tender with the girl he loves that makes me go absolutely crazy. Anyway, it's been a long time since I've written anything and an even longer time since I've actually put something out. Hope y'all enjoy :)

(This work was also cross-posted on my ao3 account under hades_baby)

Word Count: 7109

You had always loved the serenity of a snowy forest. 

They were typically peaceful and quiet, a drastic contrast to your usual life of gunfire and warfare. 

The only things that ever really made a sound was the light crunch of snow beneath the thick soles of boots, the little animals scurrying from shrubs to burrows that led to their dens, and the winter birds chirping their little songs as they hopped from branch to branch. 

The air was always so crisp with a light scent of fresh pine and bark. It lacked the smell of gunpowder and the musk that filled the tight barracks. 

Honestly, if you could have it your way, you’d die in a forest like this. 

Have your trauma-ridden life end in a place so ethereal. 

The whole military life never really gave you what you wanted though. 

You typically had to take what you could get.  

The orders you were given weren’t to your liking? 

Too bad, you’d have to follow them anyway. 

The mission you were assigned to was in the middle of the fucking Tundra where you knew your fingers would freeze and you’d never be able to keep warm? 

You’re getting on the damn plane and going anyway because you were told to. 

A lead slugger was shot into your side and you were currently bleeding through your gear and you wanted to do nothing more than lay down in the snow and let the cold take you while the little blood you had left in your system melted the snow beneath your limp body? 

Well, too fucking bad. Get the fuck up because your Captain doesn’t take too kindly to any of his soldiers dying on the job. 

Yeah. 

You didn’t really get your way when it came to being a soldier, but today might have been your lucky day. 

That little snowy death wish that had been playing out in the back of your head for the past thirty minutes was starting to look like it might come true. 

There was a small burning bullet set in your side, a nice little slash on your arm from a bowie knife that had once been stuck in another man’s chest, and there was a cheeky little gash somewhere on your head that was pouring enough blood into your left eye to make you shut it and trek around half blind. 

It felt like you were getting too old for this kind of work. 

Then again, if Price could still keep up with this shit and be chipper doing it, then so could you. 

“What’s your ETA, Frost?”

His voice over your comms had startled you. 

“I don’t fucking know,” you snapped in a breathy tone as you slammed against the side of a pine tree to brace yourself before you could fall flat on your face. The fresh powder beneath you was starting to look really enticing. 

You closed your good eye—the one that hadn’t been flooded with blood—and let out a defeated sigh, dipping your head as you tried to catch your breath and not focus on the stinging sensation of all the wounds that riddled your body. 

“Sorry,” you muttered, apologizing to your Captain for your tone. You glanced at the watch on your wrist to check your current coordinates. “I’m a klick out from the safehouse. I should be there in a bit.”

“Copy.”

Price left it at that. 

He sounded tired. 

It was the same tone he spoke in when he was stuck in his office, getting dragged down into the depths with paperwork and mission reports he didn’t even want to think about. The tone that would come out when someone tried to talk to him too soon after a mission when all he wanted to do was relax and work the knots out of his shoulders. The tone that you heard oh so often when you’d pop into his office to keep him company while he dotted his i’s and crossed his t’s and when you’d work your fingers into the knots and sore spots on his back until he nearly fell asleep in his office chair. 

Fuck. 

You needed to get a move on.

After taking a deep breath, you trekked on, using every other tree to keep yourself upright as you staggered on your tired feet. 

Blood was seeping through all of your gear, some of it dripping into the pristine white powder beneath your feet. It was tragic how the deep crimson liquid stained the gorgeous snow. In your line of work, you had seen blood stain an array of surfaces, but snow seemed to be the worst of them. It was something that was meant to be clean and pure, yet here you were, ruining it. 

A grimace fell over your face at the sight. 

After a few minutes passed by, your legs met the threshold of movement and you slammed into another tree trunk. Your temple met the bark, wood scratching against the skin of your face. You closed your eyes as you tried to catch your breath and focus on not passing out while your limbs buzzed in pain. 

You could make it. 

Probably.

All you could really think about was the fact that you were definitely going to be telling Price that you didn’t want to do any more jobs in the Tundra. You enjoyed the cold climate when you weren’t working, which was almost never, but you still had a few days of leave a year where you got to fully relax (if your brain allowed). 

You liked the cold when you could cuddle up next to someone to stay warm, drink some hot cider, and watch stupid Christmas movies that had too many questionable moments that made you really sit and stare, trying to figure out whether or not you should laugh. 

You enjoyed the cold even more when you could hide away in the barracks, keeping warm with Price wrapped around you, hands tracing over your skin, heating you up quicker than a blanket ever could. 

“Frost.”

“Captain.”

He didn’t respond right away, making you wonder if he just wanted to say your callsign for the hell of it. 

“ETA?”

“Couple of minutes,” you answered. 

The eye with blood in it was starting to sting, the foreign liquid now slipping all the way to your jaw and dripping from your chin. 

“Cut it down to a minute.”

Price was starting to catch on that something was wrong. You were taking far too long to get to the safe house from where you had been coming from and your words were becoming too short and strained every time he asked you a question. Something was wrong and it was taking everything in him to not run out of the safehouse in search of you. You’d always been the type to be vocal when something went awry out in the field, so he silently prayed that your absence of issue meant that everything was fine and that you truly were just taking your sweet ass time to get to him. 

“You’re starting to sound like Gaz with all the worrying you’re doing, Pricey,” you teased, adding on the little nickname that you knew peeved him. 

“Shut it and get a damn move on.”

“Yessir.”

You started moving again just as he ordered you to do, finding some sense of motivation after hearing his gruff voice. It was the voice that had welcomed you to the 141 after Laswell had shipped you off to join the task force. The voice that had let you know that you were okay and safe when the boys had finally found you after you had been taken hostage on a mission in your earlier days. The voice that had talked you through every touch that made your body burn as he sunk his fingers into you. 

It was the kind of voice that you’d betray death for. 

A little while later, the safehouse finally came into view. 

You glanced at your watch, checking how much time had passed. 

A minute and twenty-seven seconds.

Price wasn’t going to let you hear the end of it. 

You winced in pain, feeling the skin of your arm pull apart. The soldier that had cut you had grabbed the knife he used from the middle of another man’s chest and you were starting to feel queasy from the thought of your blood mixing with his. You needed to get your gash disinfected soon or you were going to have a problem. Well, technically you already had multiple problems, but you were trying to take on one issue at a time. 

Alright, maybe it was about time you mentioned something to your captain. 

“Hey, Cap’?” you probed as you quietly trudged toward the short porch steps of the cute little cottage. “Is this a bad time to mention that I got hit earlier?”

You failed to mention how badly you were hit.

“What the hell—what do you mean you got hit?”

You stopped a good ten feet from the steps, furrowing your brows. 

There was no sign of Price having entered through the front door. The powder in front of the stairs had been untouched and there weren’t any wet footprints  on the old wood of the porch. The windows were dark and nothing could be seen from the outside. The only thing that gave any sign of someone being inside was the dark smoke slowly wisping from the brick chimney peeking out of the top of the cabin.

“I mean, I got a nice little slugger in my side and some blood pouring out of me in other places,” you said, keeping your voice low and quiet. You wondered if you were in the right place. You looked down at your watch, checking your coordinates. According to the device, you were. “Are you inside?” 

He ignored your question. 

“Where the hell’s your kit?”

“Somewhere in the forest four klicks back.”

You looked around again, hoping to find some sign of this being the right place. 

“Christ, Frost,” Price muttered. You didn’t need to see him to know that he was shaking his head at you. “How far out are you?”

“Right out front,” you answered. 

You gave in. 

The wood creaked under the thick soles of your boots as you trekked up the stairs. You shoved the door open, stumbled inside, and slammed the door shut as you slumped against the wall. You slowly slid down to the floor. The cold began to set into your bones as the distinctive heat from the fireplace on your left radiated around you. 

Price rushed into the room. 

“Well, aren’t you a right-all mess,” he said as he moved toward you.

“Shut up,” you muttered, shaking your head before tilting it back to rest against the wall. You opened your good eye as he knelt down in front of you.

“Where are you broken, love?” he asked as his eyes scanned over you, clocking every little rip and tear in your gear before you could even say anything. 

He hated seeing you like this. 

It had become one of the toughest parts of his job ever since Laswell had sent you his way to recruit to the taskforce. There was just something about you that made his heart ache whenever he saw you in pain in any way.  

He knew that it was all a part of the job. 

That there were always going to be times where he saw you like this; busted and broken.

And he always fucking hated it.

He knew he’d hate it ever since the first time he had seen you like this. It was way back when you had first joined the team. You’d only been with them for a good six months, but you had already gone on about four missions with them. It had been a busy year for the task force, but you didn’t seem to mind. If anything, you were eager to keep getting back out on the field every time you got back to base. 

On their fifth mission all together, when they believed that they had the upper hand, you and Soap had been ambushed. The Scot had been knocked unconscious while you were taken captive, too many soldiers for the two of you to take out on your own without any supporting fire. 

Learning that you had been taken was worrisome on its own, but Price’s heart ached when they finally found you. 

He had sunken to his knees in front of you, using his knife to work away the zip ties that had you bound to an uncomfortable looking metal chair. Your face was bruised and bloody. Gashes from knife wounds worked their way down your arms and legs. Burn marks from what looked like cigarettes were ingrained into your plush skin. 

You looked beyond rough. 

Price had felt furious that he had let any of this happen to you, but the fury was quickly overcome with worry when you had perched your eyes open and groaned in pain. He let out a sigh of relief, finally knowing that you were, at the very least, well enough to be conscious. He had tried to soothe you as best he could and when you were finally free of your bounds, you practically fell into his embrace, your entire body slumping against his.

It was that very moment—when he wrapped his arms around you and held the entirety of you—that was when he knew that seeing you like this would always pull deadly wear on his heart. His old heart wouldn’t be able to take seeing you like this and hoped that it would be a rarity for his tiring eyes. 

Much to his surprise, it had been a rare sight. 

But that didn’t mean it was a non-existent sight. 

“Got shot in my right side, bullet’s still somewhere in there from what I can tell. Slash on my right arm from a gross ass knife that was already stuck in someone else before it got to me. And I got hit in the head and I can’t see out of my fucking right eye because of all the goddamn blood,” you explained, lifting one of your hands to try and wipe the blood away from your eye, but to no avail, the metallic liquid kept flowing. There was no use in trying to see right now anyway.

“Let’s get you fixed up then,” he said, a sense of urgency finally filling his voice. 

He had been attempting to keep his cool this entire time; to not panic so you wouldn’t panic either. But he knew that you were much too tired to even start panicking, so perhaps he was just trying to stay calm for his own sake. He found it funny that out of everyone on the task force, he had been the one to deal with more field injuries, yet here he was with his damned nerves buzzing out of his skull. 

Something like this shouldn’t have worried him as much as it did. 

But it was you. 

He couldn’t help himself when it came to you. 

Whatever was going on between the two of you had always left him in the realm of something being completely unspoken. The relationship that had sprouted was in some sort of limbo, but neither of you seemed to mind since it was easier that way. 

It was easier than having to tell the boys that something was going on between you two. It was easier than telling Laswell that there may be some sort of infringement on the team—not that she’d care unless it really started to affect how the two of you went about your work lives. And it was easier than admitting to each other that there might be something more than a quick casual stress-relief fuck. 

The two of you had shared too many moments together for that to be true. 

There were too many night’s of your bodies being pressed together and entwined, skin to skin to keep each other warm. Too many words of comfort as you soothe the nightmares of war away, finding comfort in each other’s arms. Too many gentle kisses for it to not be real. 

Your eyes were closed. 

He didn’t care much for that. 

“Frost,” he said, bumping your arm without a slash in it to jostle you awake. You opened your good eye and looked up at him, sending him a quick look of aggravation. It would’ve been amusing if you weren’t bleeding out before his very eyes. “Need your good eye open so I know you aren’t dying on me, sweetheart.”

You grunted in response, looking away from him but still keeping your eye open. 

The feeling of disquietude was starting to set in. 

It wasn’t normal for you to get hit during missions—it was actually quite rare. Soap was usually the one to take the podium for taking quite a bit of damage out in the field. Regardless of all that, you still knew what to do in such situations. You wouldn’t have been at this level of infantry if you didn’t know what to do. 

The hard part was the fact that you were in the presence of your captain. 

Moments ago, when you were trekking to the safehouse, you knew that you wouldn’t have to do any of this alone because your captain was waiting less than a klick away from you. 

The thought alone made everything feel easier. 

It was always harder doing it all alone. 

You thought back to the first and only time you had applied a tourniquet on yourself. Damn near gave up and bled out from how painful it was to cinch the band as tight as you could to keep yourself from bleeding out. You had spent years in the service of infantry. Years of wear and tear on the body, but that kind of pain was something you never wanted to feel again in your lifetime or in any lifetime. So when you felt your arm begin to fall numb from the lack of blood circulating through your veins, you knew that you had to get to Price before you would be forced to deal with it on your own. 

When he was around, you knew that you’d never have to face anything alone. 

You had learned to find such comfort in that. 

Price felt sick to his stomach as he started to get some of your heavier gear off. Your weapons were first to go, then your holsters, and then your vest. He was almost afraid to remove your thermal to see the damage the thick white jacket was hiding poorly. 

He couldn’t keep his damn head straight. 

Simon had griped with him about it a while back, saying that he needed to do better about keeping a clear head around you, but Price still managed to get work done on missions, so the younger man could never really get on him about it all that much. Simon didn’t know exactly what was going on between you two behind closed doors, but he had enough of an idea seeing how much Price doted on you even when you told him to fuck off and focus on something else for a while. 

It was the playfulness of your jabs that usually gave it away. 

That and the lingering looks you two sent each other as if you were some love sick teenagers. 

Price knew that you were more than capable of handling yourself in the field, but there was always something whispering in the back of his head that had him wearing a deep sense of worry on his sleeve every time he had to send you out on a mission. He had read your file when Laswell had recruited you. You were beyond skilled in almost everything you did and you rarely ever came back to base having to see a medic, so hearing that you had actually been hit—

“I can’t feel my arm.”

“Shite,” Price cursed, snapping out of his thoughts as he snatched his medkit and opened it up to finally help you. 

The cold had finally set in and all the blood that had seeped from your arm was causing your skin to turn pale. The gash on your arm was still wide open, but blood had stopped spilling from it, which meant he could disinfect it and get it closed without anything (hopefully) going wrong. Your side wasn’t doing all that bad, still bleeding, but not bad. He’d probably have to cauterize the wound just to feel like he could leave it be, but that could wait for after he got the bullet out of you. 

“Arm first, then your side,” he decided, nodding his head before he turned back to his kit. He turned back with a bottle in hand and you grimaced at the sight. “Gonna have to feel more broken before you feel fixed.”

“No shit,” you muttered, eyeing the small bottle of alcohol in his hand. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be snappy.”

Price set the bottle down, reached for his belt, and took it off. Something deep in you fluttered, but it stopped when he presented it to your face in a folded mess. 

“Bite down,” he said. You eyed him a little more, making him huff. “Bite down on it, Frost.”

You huffed back at him and bit down on the folded belt. You held it between clenched teeth, watching as he picked the bottle of alcohol back up. He sighed and nodded, almost as if he was telling himself that he was ready to do this. He tipped the bottle and poured the liquid over the wound. You squirmed and held back a writhing scream. He quickly clamped your legs between his knees, keeping you from squirming away. 

“I know, I know, sweetheart,” he said, trying to sooth you as he set the bottle down and wiped around the edge of the wound. He grabbed a needle and thread from his kit.

You groaned through the thickness of the belt as he stabbed the needle into your skin, creating even sutures along the wound. Your eyes closed as you tried to not focus on anything specific, but the feeling of Price keeping you in place while he dug a needle kept you from thinking of anything else. 

Price hated this. 

He hated every fucking part of this. 

Digging a needle and thread into your arm while you bit onto a belt. 

He thought back to the last time he had touched you. 

It was the night before the mission that you two were currently on. Price hadn’t expected to see you until the two of you were meant to take off on the tarmac, but he found himself aimlessly wandering the halls of the barracks until he wound up at the door of your private quarters. 

He almost hadn’t knocked. 

It was late, you two had to be up early, and he still didn’t know where the two of you stood when it came to something like this. 

He knew that there was some sort of love there, but he wasn’t too sure about the type. He knew that if he was stressed about all the ridiculous mission reports and papers he had to sign off on late into the night when he should be sleeping instead, you’d be sitting there with him to keep him company. He knew that if he mentioned that something was hurting, you’d use your nimble and calloused fingers to work away the knots and sore spots that came with all the training and missions. He knew that in a moment of weakness, he could count on you to hold the broken pieces of his soul together. 

Everything in his mind told him to leave you alone and let you be for the night, but the Captain was feeling selfish and he rarely ever got to indulge in such things.

His entire life and career, he was meant to be selfless. 

To put everyone else’s needs before his own. 

And ultimately, he had been okay with that… until he met you. 

He found himself tempted to be selfish when it came to you. 

He had knocked and you had answered. 

It was all he needed for the night. 

Maybe for life. 

“Done,” he said, tying off the last stitch and cutting the thread. 

“Thank fuck,” you breathed out, letting the belt drop from your mouth. 

“Still have a few more things to do,” he said, jerking his chin in the direction of your side before glancing at your head. “I’m gonna have to lay you down flat to get the bullet out, alright?”

“M’kay,” you muttered, still feeling hazy. Your nerves were buzzing in all the wrong ways and you just wanted it to stop. 

Price carried you over to the fireplace and laid you out on the floor next to the fire in hopes of warming you up. The flame felt nice against your freezing skin. He worked quickly to strip you of your thermal undershirt. The wound on your side looked small, but the skin around it was stained red with thick blood. 

“Want the belt again?” he asked. You sighed and nodded. He grabbed his belt and folded it up again before placing it back in your mouth. Your teeth dug into the material as you anticipated whatever pain was about to come. “Ready?”

You grunted in response. 

He used a set of dull tweezers to dig into your side, fishing for the little bullet deep in your flesh. You reeled in pain, damn near shooting up on your own, but Price used his free hand to push your chest back down to keep you steady.

“I know, pretty girl, I know,” he tried to soothe, continuing to search for the hunk of lead. You writhed in pain, pressing yourself against the floor as hard as you could as if that would help you escape the pain that was stabbing into it. The ends of the tweezers grazed something hard and he knew that he almost had it. “Almost got it. Almost done.”

After a few moments, he pulled the metal fragment from your body and pulled the tweezers from your aching flesh. You gasped, shaking as you laid limp. Your shoulders slumped against the wood floor as your chest heaved. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you tried to catch your breath. 

“You’re alright,” he said, squeezing your good arm as if that would make everything better. He massaged your bicep for a moment, using it as an excuse to keep his hands on you. He was also trying to calm you down a bit more before he had to move onto the actual hard part. He grimaced and glanced over to the fireplace. “Do you trust me?” 

“Mhm,” you hummed, lazily nodding your head as you felt consciousness slipping through your fingers. 

“I need you to close your eyes, sweetheart.”

“Mm-mm,” you said, shaking your head this time around. 

“I need you to trust me on this one, Frost.”

You stared at him for a long while before finally giving in and closing your eyes. You slammed the back of your head against the wood flooring as hard as you could, wishing that the impact had knocked you out because you knew that whatever he was about to do was going to hurt like hell. 

Price had always been the type to make sure that his own were safe and taken care of, but he was also the type to tell his own to buck up and take it. Whenever the boys got injured out in the field, he would always make sure that they were okay, and if they were, he’d tell the lot of them to get back to work then. 

Even with you. 

Every time you had been bruised and battered, if you told him that you were okay, he’d believe you and expect you to be okay and not broken. 

So the fact that he was telling you to close your eyes and to trust him meant that it had to be bad and that scared you.

Price waited for a few moments, making sure that you kept your eyes closed before he proceeded with what he was about to do. He grabbed the hot poker from the fireplace, the one that he had been stoking the fire with before you had made it to the confines of the safehouse and trudged in with all of your broken parts. He took a deep breath, knowing that there was a good chance that he was going to hate this just as much as you. 

“Bite down hard and keep your eyes closed, you hear?” he ordered, heaving one last warning before he pressed the burning poker to your skin. 

You did exactly as he ordered even though you were itching to scream and open your eyes to see what the fuck he was doing, but the smell of your burning flesh was enough to urge you to just squeeze your eyes shut even tighter. 

You were going to pass out. 

Or vomit. 

Or maybe scream at Price for cauterizing your wound without a proper fucking warning. 

Maybe all three. 

You eventually fell limp, no longer having the energy to resist the fiery pain that flooded over your skin. The only part of you that could move was your heaving chest as your lungs begged for some semblance of air. 

Price pulled the poker away, tossing the burning end back into the fire.

“You’re doing great, sweetheart,” he said, disinfecting the area around the cauterized wound to ensure that everything was thoroughly taken care of. He placed a bandage over it and then gently grasped your shoulders, his thumb massaging circles into your skin. “Gonna get you up now, nice and easy.” 

He slowly pulled you into an upright position, but you haphazardly slumped forward into his arms, forehead hitting his chest. He let your full weight fall against him. You still hadn’t said anything, nor had you opened your eyes. All you could really manage were hard, labored breaths that made your entire body quake. 

His heart hurt. 

Probably not as much as you were hurting, but still, it hurt. 

He couldn’t stand to see you like this. 

Body shaking in his arms, lungs gasping for air, kind eyes hidden behind low lids. 

He wanted to take you from this world. 

To take you from the world of hurt.

The world where you were constantly shot at and put at risk every time a new mission was assigned to the taskforce. 

But he knew that he’d never be able to take you from this world of chaos and pain. You’d surely raise hell the day you truly had to leave the force. You had always said that you’d probably die in the military. He really prayed that you wouldn’t. 

He pulled you into his lap, settling you down comfortably as he grabbed a clean wrap. He propped you up a little more so your head was resting against his shoulder, face tucked you into the crook of his neck. He wrapped your midsection, making sure to keep the bandages snug and clean. 

“Almost done,” he promised in a sweet coo. 

You opened your mouth, finally letting the belt drop to the floor. You hadn’t realized that it was still in your mouth. 

“Fuck,” you breathed out as he tied the bandages off, running his fingers over the material to make sure it all laid flat and clean. 

“Gonna lay you back down,” he said. 

You shook your head, pressing your forehead against his shoulder in hopes that he’d understand that you wanted to stay like that in his arms, face tucked away so he couldn’t see you cry. You just needed a moment to collect yourself. Tears pooled in your eyes, the pain setting in even more as the adrenaline started to wear off. He placed one of his hands on your back, gently rubbing circles over your shoulder blades in an attempt to calm you down.

“I’ve got you, Frost,” he muttered, pulling you in closer. Hot tears rushed faster from your eyes, slipping down, and staining his shirt as they dropped from your face. The diluted mix of salt water and blood didn’t bother him much. “Gotta check that head of yours. Clearly you’ve got a screw loose since you thought hiding all of this from me was okay.” 

“Didn’t want to bother,” you muttered hazily in broken fits.

“Helping you ain’t a bother, love,” he said, shaking his head. He slowly pulled you away from him and cupped your face in his rough hands. “How’s the head feeling?” 

“Amazing. Thanks for asking,” you said, letting the weight of your head sink into the salvation of his hands. He kept you up, calloused fingers running over your cheekbones to wipe away the stray tears still slipping from your eyes. The salty water had started to clear the blood from one of your eyes, but it wasn’t enough to fully see. You squeezed your eyes shut even more, leaning into him, and slumping in his hold. 

“Need you awake, soldier,” he said, jostling you around a bit. You opened your good eye, staring into his focused ones. 

There was so much comfort in his gaze. 

Solace. 

Made you feel warm. 

Too warm. 

Your eyes closed as you fell fully limp in his embrace. 

He scrambled to keep you in an upright position. 

“None of that now. Come on, Frost—”

God, you could die listening to that voice. 

You woke with the scent of musk and cigar smoke lingering around you. 

It was a scent that you had grown accustomed to waking up to.

There was a sense of easement that fell over you whenever the scent lingered on your sheets whenever he found an excuse to stay the night in your private quarters back in the barracks. A scent that you found comfort in whenever you woke from a long flight after a rough mission. And a scent you had learned to completely love when you invited him to stay with you for Christmas when the entire task force inevitably left for their week long holiday leave. 

You attempted to take a deep breath to take the comforting scent in, but it was cut short when you felt your skin pull against the stitches in your side.

“You scared the shit out of me.”

You jolted from the sudden presence of the familiar gruff voice, but Price’s arms cinched around you tighter to keep you from falling from his lap and onto the floor. You were comfortably curled up in his lap, his arms around your body. His brows were furrowed, eyes riddled with stress and worry as he stared at you. 

It was the same look that he always gave when he felt like he failed someone. 

Disappointed them. 

“I’m sorry,” you muttered.

He stared at you for a little longer before pulling you in to hug you tight. You winced slightly, but were happy nonetheless to be close to the worried captain. You sighed and closed your eyes, letting your face rest in the nape of his neck. The smell of musk and thick cigars filled your system again. 

“You can’t scare me like that again, Frost. I don’t think my old heart could take another fright like that,” he said, shaking his head to nuzzle his face into yours. He took a deep breath, taking in the smell of your hair. Even with everything you’d been through, the light scent of your usual shampoo still lingered. “Plus the boys would kill me if I ever came back with you in pieces.”

“They’d live,” you muttered, even though you knew he was right. 

The boys of the 141 would probably wreak havoc if you ever came back from a mission on the brink of death. Though, they’d never blame Price. You knew that much for sure. They’d know that your captain would do anything and everything in his power to get you back in the best shape he could manage. 

You slowly pulled away from him, staying in his lap as you tried to reorientate yourself. You had been stripped down to your base layers, your other gear laid out near the fire to dry the blood and snow that had soaked into the material. He was also down to his base layers, his gear and his silly little hat in a pile on the other side of the room. 

The two of you were comfortably resting on the rundown couch closest to the fireplace, but the sight of the fire brought a memory back to you. 

“I can’t believe you fucking cauterized my wound you bastard—”

“Had to get it shut, sweetheart—”

“And a fire poker was your first and only thought?” 

He grimaced and sat back so he was pressed against the couch cushion. His hands stayed on you, one on your hip and the other on your thigh, fingers tracing gentle circles into your skin. 

“Stitches weren’t gonna cut it,” he said, shaking his head. 

You sighed, knowing he was right. 

“I want a cigarette,” you said, going to slide off his lap in hopes of finding a pack stashed somewhere in the pockets of your gear. He tightened his grip on you, pulling you back into him. 

“Wouldn’t do you any good to have one right now,” he said.

“I want one anyway.”

He sighed and shook his head before grabbing a cigar from the ashtray on the coffee table beside the couch. It wasn’t a cigarette, but it would do. You found it humorous that a safehouse had an ashtray, but knowing the people you worked with, it almost made sense. 

The end of the cigar was already burnt, meaning he had been smoking while you were out in his arms. He placed it in his mouth and grabbed the lighter, burning the end until he was able to take a decent drag. The breath of smoke was held deep in his chest before he slowly blew it out. He made sure to blow the smoke away from your face before holding the cigar out to you. You went to grab it, but he moved his hand just out of your reach. Furrowing your brows, your eyes flicked between him and the cigar. He slowly brought it back to you, but held it right up to your lips. It wasn’t until you wrapped your lips around it did he let it go and the weight of the cigar rested against your lip. 

You took a deep drag, holding it until you felt light headed. You leaned back, only stopping when his hand braced against your lower back to keep you from tipping over. You slowly blew out, letting the smoke wisp above your head. You passed the cigar back to him and he placed it back in his mouth, the tips of his teeth chewing the end a bit. 

It was a nervous habit of his. 

Typically had to swat his thigh to get him to quit. 

He took another drag. 

He tilted his head to the side to blow the smoke away from your face, but before he could, you gently grabbed his face and turned it back to face you. He furrowed his brows in a confused manner, but you slowly leaned forward and he got the idea.

God. 

He could die like this. 

You sitting in his lap, a cigar in hand, and you begging for something that he could only think to do with someone he loved. 

All he was missing was a glass of whiskey to top it all off. 

He cupped your face and urged you closer, but stopped before your lips could touch. You were tempted to lean forward and close the distance, but you stopped yourself. Your mouth was slightly ajar, wondering if he’d actually go through with it.

He did. 

He kissed you hard and blew the smoke right into your mouth. Heat filled your system as you slowly leaned back and exhaled, letting smoke wisp away between the two of you. 

“Fuckin’ minx,” he muttered before taking another drag with a smirk on his face. “Even on the brink of fucking death.”

“You love it,” you teased. He huffed out a gruff laugh. “I’m sorry for almost dying.”

“Don’t let it happen again,” he said. “Boys would kill me in a jealous rage if they found out you died in my lap like this.”

“As if,” you said, rolling your eyes. 

“You don’t see the way those boys look at you, love,” he said, shaking his head. 

“Yeah? And how about the way you look at me?” you wondered. 

His gaze met yours and you didn’t dare pull away. 

“Just like this,” he said, his lids low as his eyes flicked down to your lips and then back to your eyes. 

The fingers that had once been drawing circles into your skin had stopped, the pads of them pressing into your plush thighs instead. He had a good grip on you. You weren’t going anywhere. Not that you wanted to go anywhere. 

You could stay like this forever. 

“You gonna keep looking at me like that or are you gonna do something about it?” you asked, wondering how far he’d actually go while the two of you were on a mission. 

Then again, you two were technically done with the mission and you were just waiting for evac so… no harm, no foul. 

He let out a light laugh before bringing a hand up to your face and pulling you in until his lips pressed against yours. You leaned into him, your front pressed against his own. You moved your legs until you straddled him, wincing once from the pain in your side. He pulled back, pressing a hand down to where your wound was, looking over the bandaged area. 

“I’m alright,” you assured him. You cupped his face in your hands and slowly tilted it back up until he was looking at you again. “I’m alright, John.”

He kissed you again, resting his hands on your hips with a light squeeze.

“Evac won’t be here for another six hours,” you said, having caught a glance at the watch on his wrist. “Care to kill some time?” 

“Oh, I’d love to.”

[mookiesspace]

poll ♡

𝑇𝑂𝑋𝐼𝐶 ☆ 𝑆𝑁𝐸𝐴𝐾 𝑃𝐸𝐴𝐾 ♡

toxic cheather ony x black fem reader

**beep! beep! beep! bee-** the sound of your alarm before smacking it off. "shit.." you mumbled. you seriously didn't wanna get up after last night. damn what did happen last night for you to be so dam tired?? "damn 7:30 already? it's to damn early for this shit broo." you moaned forcing yourself outta bed while lazily dragging your body to the bathroom. looking in the mirror you sluggishly rub your eyes while your other hand ran your fingers thru your messy hair, slowly opening your big brow eyes to see your reflection in the mirror while getting ready to start your day.

"fuck.. why did i do that." sighing softly. right. you slept with ony again. why did this become such a natural thing?? why couldn't you just leave that stupid nigga alone, what was so hypnotizing about him that couldn't make you pull away?? walking to your messy bed you find a note lying on the dresser next to it reading 'sorry about last night mama, meet at 8 tonight so I can make it up to ya?' groaning at the note you quickly balled it up before tossing it into the trash. you had other things to focus on and worry about, other things excluding ony. he of all the was the last thing you needed to worry about yet along see. you were growing sick of the constant fighting and fucking all over the same shit, him being a no good cheating ass nigga. what you finally needed was a night out, a night to focus on you and your life damn well not his! you didn't belong to him, damn you ain't belong to anyone you're a boss bitch and you deserve better. and well all know you were gonna get it if it's the last thing you did!

"damnn bitch you i missed youuu!!" sasha squealed squeezing you tightly it had been forverr since you seen your girls sasha & mikasa and like always it was never a dull moment with the two "we missed you boo, how you been?" mikasa added pulling sasha off you. "shitt ion even know anymore," you giggled before taking a sip of your drink "I did fuck on ony last night tho.." you muttered "YOU WHAT BITCH??" "didn't he cheat on you? GIRL you need to sta-" "stay away from that no good ass nigga yes I know sasha. whatchu think I've been doing?" you groaned slouching onto the couch beneath you "clearly not good enough if you let him into yo panties." mikasa snickered at you an sasha's annoyance "don't laugh and help me!!" you whined only for mikasa to sigh loudly "I'm with sash on this one boo, ony's no good and you know that." "ughhh you two are so frustrating" groaning again as the two giggled with one another "let's just go out tonight hm? like we used to do! that'll get ya mind off him for sure" sasha implied. at first, going out sounded like a bad idea.. what if you ran into ony? what if he tried to talk to you and you gave in all over again?? what if- "cmon girl it's been forever!! pleaseeeee" your best friend begged. rolling your eyes while deeply sighing you gave in "ok ok. let's do it, I need a distraction anyways.." your friends cheered lovingly as they planned the entire night out but all you could think about is how badly you wanted ony still, you missed him. the old him.. him touch, his taste, his affection.. his everything. but that was over now, it's been over and now all you really needed was that night out. a night without thinking about anything but you and yo girls, a night without him.

alr yalll no more sneak peaks after thisss 🥴 !!

js know I got sm more written down it's gon be a long one && it switches povs 😩😩 !

[goldfades]

𝐍𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐎𝐑 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐎 /𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐈'𝐌 𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐄, 𝐈'𝐃 𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔, 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐄 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 -- / 𝐈'𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐁𝐘 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐋 𝟑𝟎𝟎𝟓 ─ AF³⁵

౨ৎ ─ summary | requested -> "wait i love ur fics!! can i request a one shot of azzi (aka sweet angel whose never done anything wrong in her life) and loud & chaotic!reader who were childhood friends and now have the cutest relationship ever?? like a huge opposites attract thingy where reader is a cheerleader and that popular kid, and brings azzi out of her shell? and maybe the team is a bit suspicious at first but just falls in love with their relationship really quickly"

─ warnings | nothing but sweet, good old fluff!!! literally so adorable, my fav thing i've written in a while. my fav trope! oblivious best friends to obnoxious lovers!! the girls being a little skeptical but slowly also falling in love w/ r because she brings out the best in az, mention of a confession but literally nothing else

─ word count | 1.8k

─ ev's notes | i love my azzi baby and she needs more love!!!!! fuck EVERYBODY who doesn't like her cause babygirl is so unproblematic, she's literally an angel and the heart of uconn so FUCK OFF anyways. also i love all my azzi girls sm i had to feed them too, mwah!!!!!!!!!!

⇨ missing out on updates? check out my wcbb masterlist!

THERE HAD NEVER been a time when Azzi wasn't by your side.

Since the day you'd met her back in the sixth grade, she was always by your side. There was never a day where you questioned her loyalty or her friendship. Through the ups and downs of adolescence, through the awkwardness of high school, and into the uncertainties of young adulthood, Azzi remained a constant presence in your life.

She always admired everything about you ─ there was never a moment where she was annoyed by your extrovertness or how much you liked to talk, she actually enjoyed it. Azzi was never much of a talker, she was more of a listener so she liked to let you take the lead in conversations, always content to listen to your stories, your dreams, and your worries. She found solace in the rhythm of your voice, in the way your eyes lit up when you spoke about something you loved.

While you were the outgoing one, always ready to dive headfirst into any adventure, Azzi was the steady presence by your side, offering quiet wisdom and unwavering support. She may not have been the loudest voice in the room, but her presence spoke volumes, grounding you when you felt like you were spinning out of control.

Azzi's strength wasn't just in her ability to be a steadfast companion; it was also in her capacity for understanding. She had a way of seeing beyond the surface, of understanding the complexities of your emotions even when you couldn't understand them yourself.

In her own quiet way, Azzi was the glue that held your relationship together. She didn't need grand gestures or flashy displays of affection to show how much she cared; her loyalty and devotion spoke for themselves.

"Az!" You shouted as you practically threw yourself into her arms. She laughed as she held you close to her chest, her arms wrapping around your body.

As you nestled into Azzi's embrace, you couldn't help but feel a surge of warmth and happiness flood through you. Her laughter was like music to your ears, a melody that resonated deep within your soul.

It was finally summer and that meant it was her favorite time of year ─ spending every second with you. This was the second year you'd been separated because of college, so it wasn't entirely foreign but this year was a little harder than the last. She found herself missing you and thinking about you all the damn time, literally.

You could think of a couple reasons as to why, and one of them is because you'd both had confronted your long-time feelings for each other.

You both had danced around your feelings for each other for far too long, tiptoeing around the truth out of fear of ruining the beautiful friendship you shared. But as time went on, the pull between you grew stronger, until it became impossible to ignore.

The moment of truth came during a late-night conversation at your family's beach house, where words tumbled out in a rush of honesty and vulnerability. Azzi confessed her feelings for you, her heart laid bare for you to see. And to her relief and delight, you felt the same way. It felt like it was out of a movie; everything was perfect, Childish Gambino was playing through the speaker, the air felt just right and the waves whispered secrets in the background.

You pulled out of the hug with a grin as Azzi laughed again, putting her hands on your shoulders. "Damn, you're still short."

"Oh my god, we're still on this?" You let out a sigh, despite the sweet smile on your face. You've known each other since you were kids and still, her favorite thing to tease you about was your height.

And it wasn't even that you were abnormally short ─ she was just tall.

"What! I thought you woulda grown, sorry!" Azzi teased as you grumbled, rolling your eyes playfully.

"Well, you know what they say, good things come in small packages," you retorted with a smirk, earning another laugh from Azzi.

Azzi chuckled, giving you a playful shove. "Yeah, yeah, keep telling yourself that, shorty."

Before you could respond, Azzi's name was being called from behind her. Azzi turned around to wave toward the group of girls, her teammates and friends from UConn. You'd met them one time before and that was at one of the championship games last year, and meeting them was a stretch ─ you'd waved at them.

As Azzi turned to greet her teammates, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of nervousness flutter in your stomach. You remembered the last time you had met them, feeling like a fish out of water among a group of award-winning athletes and accomplished individuals.

"I'm right here, guys," Azzi sighed as her friends walked toward her. "Y/N, this is Aubrey, Aaliyah and Nika. Oh, and Paige,"

Paige sent her a glare toward Azzi but before she could retort, Nika nudged her and smiled politely at you.

"Hi," you smiled as you looked up at Azzi for reassurance. She gave a warm smile as she pulled you closer to her side, squeezing you. "I'm Y/N,"

Azzi had never seen you so nervous, it was almost endearing to see. You'd always been the outgoing one, but in this moment, you seemed almost shy and uncertain. It was a side of you that Azzi hadn't seen often, and it made her heart swell with affection.

"You're even prettier in person," Nika spoke as she smiled. The girls all exchanged glances as Nika realized what she had just said, laughing. "What! I mean, we had to stalk Azzi's girl before we met her, it's just part of the process-"

"My god, Nika," Paige laughed as Azzi squeezed your shoulder.

You blushed under their gazes, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and flattery at Nika's comment. Azzi's gentle squeeze on your shoulder offered reassurance, grounding you in the moment.

"Thanks, you guys too. I'm a stalker too, don't worry. I'm practically your guys' biggest fan," you joked, trying to lighten the mood with a touch of self-deprecation. The tension eased as the group laughed, and you felt a sense of relief wash over you.

Aubrey grinned. "Well, I guess we're all in good company then."

Aaliyah nodded. "Absolutely. It's always nice to meet a fan."

"Hey, hey. She's actually my biggest fan, cause you know, she's my girlfriend." Azzi cut in as the group laughed. You glanced up at Azzi, your heart practically jumping at the word girlfriend. You were her girlfriend, and it sounded so perfect. You gazed up at Azzi, your eyes meeting hers, and in that moment, everything felt right.

"Absolutely, I have like 20 different jerseys" you chimed in, unable to hide the fondness in your voice as you leaned into Azzi's side.

Azzi laughed as she shook her head. "She's not joking, she probably has more than me."

"I've been collecting them since high school, cause I wanted to make sure everyone knew I was her biggest fan when she makes into the WNBA," you explained, a hint of pride coloring your words. The admiration and support you felt for Azzi were palpable, evident in the way you spoke about her with such reverence and affection.

"Our reservation is for 8 and it's 7:45, we should probably get going," Nika suggested, glancing at her watch.

Azzi nodded, casting a fond glance at you. "Yeah, let's head out."

With a collective agreement, the group began to make their way toward the restaurant, chatting and laughing as they went. Azzi slipped her hand into yours, intertwining your fingers with hers as you walked side by side. With a smile, you squeezed Azzi's hand, feeling a surge of love and gratitude for the amazing woman by your side.

At the restaurant, Azzi had her arm around you as the host led the group to their table. You felt a sense of warmth and comfort in Azzi's embrace, the simple gesture serving as a reminder of the deep connection you shared.

As you settled into your seats, the buzz of conversation continued around you, filled with laughter and shared stories. Azzi leaned in close, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispered, "I'm so glad you're here with me."

You turned to her, a soft smile playing on your lips as you met her gaze. "Me too," you replied, your voice filled with sincerity.

Throughout the meal, Azzi's hand remained firmly entwined with yours, Azzi was at ease as she kept stealing glances your way, her eyes filled with adoration and affection. It was moments like these that reminded you why your bond with her was so special, why her presence in your life was irreplaceable.

Her friends could tell how absolutely whipped you both were for each other, it was obvious by the way you looked at each other.

They were all skeptical of you in the beginning, your instagram seemed too aesthetic and preppy for their taste, but as they got to know you, they realized there was much more depth to you than what your social media portrayed. You were genuine, kind-hearted, and fiercely loyal to Azzi, qualities that quickly won them over despite their initial reservations.

You brought out the laid-back, extroverted side of Azzi they rarely got to see. It was exciting to see, they loved seeing their girl happy and carefree in your presence. Your genuine affection for Azzi was evident in the way you looked at her, the way you made her laugh, and the way you supported her dreams and ambitions.

As the evening progressed, you found yourself engaged in lively conversation with Azzi's friends, sharing stories and laughter as you got to know each other better. With each passing moment, the initial skepticism faded away, replaced by genuine warmth.

And as you walked out of the restaurant next to Paige and Aubrey, the girls followed with smiles on their faces. Aaliyah pulled Azzi close as she caught her eye, a grin on her face.

"We took it up with the counsel and we approve," Aaliyah whispered as Azzi's face contorted into an amused expression.

"Bro, what do mean the counsel?" She repeated as they glanced toward the girls in front of them, who were now laughing at some joke Paige had made. "But thanks, it means a lot."

"We like her a lot," Nika chimed in, her voice filled with sincerity as she glanced back at you and Azzi walking behind them. "She's good for you, Az."

Azzi's heart swelled with affection for her friends as she wrapped an arm around Aaliyah's shoulders, pulling her into a tight side hug. "Thanks, guys. I'm really happy," she said, her voice filled with genuine gratitude. "That means everything to me."

She was ecstatic that you fit into her life so perfectly (not like she ever doubted your people skills and your charm), and hearing her friends express their approval only confirmed what she already knew deep down: you were the one for her.

As you all walked together, surrounded by the laughter and warmth of her friends, Azzi couldn't help but feel a sense of peace settle over her.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[hornyhornyhimbos]

"Wilder Than Any Eight Second Ride" ~ S. Harrington

Summary: At the annual Honky-Tonk Halloween Party, Reader and Steve find themselves having a little bull-riding competition. When Steve isn't pleased with the results, he demands a rematch… in the bedroom.

Pairing: Bullrider!Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2,545

Content Warning: MINORS DNI (18+ content) unprotected piv sex, cowgirl activities, against the wall activities, creampie, bondage, marking a lil bit, nicknames (princess, sweetheart, baby, cowgirl; daddy once i think), explicit language, alcohol mentions since it takes place at a bar, lmk if i missed anything!

Extra Notes: i missed writing for these two individuals

Originally Written: 10/20/2024 through 10/24/2024

stranger things masterlist can be found here!

halloweek masterlist can be found here!

The air was buzzing, filled with the smell of alcohol and sweat. “Elvira” by The Oak Ridge Boys blared through the speakers, though it was barely heard over the crowd of probably two hundred people chattering amongst themselves. The annual Honky-Tonk Halloween celebration was officially underway.

Steve, as per usual, looked absolutely delectable, even in his cheaply made, party store costume. He used his hot-pink bandana to wipe up a spill on the bar, and something about the sight sent heat straight to your core.

“See something you like, Western Barbie?” he smirked, never taking his eyes off the spilled alcohol.

You met him with a similar smirk. “Just admiring the view, Cowboy Ken.”

Dark brown eyes finally met your own gaze as he finished cleaning up the puddle of beer on the counter. “You sure that's the only thing going on in that pretty head of yours?” You could tell he was already a little buzzed himself; his accent got thicker when he was under the influence.

“Other than how I'm totally gonna kick your ass at the mechanical bull riding competition?” you asked with an eye roll.

Steve met you with a daring expression, one eyebrow raised quizzically. “What makes you so sure you're winnin’? Considering I ride actual bulls for a living, I've got a little bit of a leg-up on ya, princess.”

You walked around to the other side of the bar, standing face to face with him and placing your hands on his chest. A gasp nearly escaped you at how rock-solid his chest felt underneath the jacket he currently sported, but you chose not to comment on it, considering how much you already inflated his ego on the daily. “Mmm, see, I also have a little riding experience of my own under my belt.”

“Is that so?” Steve asked, leaning down a little closer to you.

You simply met him halfway, leaning in for a playful kiss. “Well, what can I say? I've had a really good teacher.”

His hand swatted at your butt as you walked away, and the sound of Steve chuckling could be heard even through the chaos of everything else happening in the bar. He quickly followed after you, his long legs catching up in just a couple strides.

The crowd of half-drunk bull-riding fans cheered Steve on as he approached the mechanical bull. With a smirk, he climbed up, confident that he'd win this little competition between the two of you. “Start her up!” he hollered to the operator.

The machine started up, and immediately his hips began twisting in a way that should've been illegal in public, in your opinion anyway. One hand met his Stetson, while the other held tight to the handle of the bull. His jeans were ridiculously tight, showing off the curves of his ass and bulge as he rocked back and forth. It was dirty, practically erotic, and he soaked up every moment of the ride with his head thrown back. While he looked like an overdone version of a cowboy in a western movie, he looked like a damn good version of the stereotype.

“Think you can keep up with me this time, princess?” he called, practically grinding against the fake saddle.

Your scoff in reply could probably be heard in the parking lot. “You wish you could keep up with me!”

The comment must've been enough to catch him off guard, because as he laughed at your response, he came tumbling down from the machine and onto the safety mat.

He turned to look at the operator, who simply replied with, “Eighteen seconds.”

“Oooof,” you let out, trying to sound regretful. “Sounds like someone's slacking in their preseason. Your trainer's not gonna be too happy, Steven.”

He rolled his eyes, patting your ass again. “Let's see you do any better, cowgirl,” he said, lifting you by the hips onto the mechanical bull.

With a confident smile, you signaled for the operator to start up the machine again. You made a show of grinding your hips against the faux saddle, and in a similar fashion to Steve, your opposite hand that wasn't holding onto the bull flew to your sparkly cowgirl hat.

You whooped and shouted as you held onto the bull, your confidence never ceasing. All eyes were on you, though the only pair you cared about belonged to someone who'd seen these moves from you a million times. And just for him, you twisted your hips a little extra, all for his enjoyment.

Time seemed to slow as you fell off the mechanical bull and onto the mat below. Steve was quick to make his way over, offering a strong hand and helping you up from the floor. “Impressive,” he commented. “Not sure if it was enough to beat the champ, though.”

“We'll just see about that,” you replied confidently, turning to the machine's operator and asking for your results.

When he replied with, “Twenty-two seconds,” a pleased squeal left your lips. Your husband simply rolled his eyes, demanding a rematch.

With a shake of your head, you said, “No can do, Cowboy Ken. Results are final.” And then, “It's all in the hips, you know.”

“You forget who taught you that phrase?” he quipped. Then, as if just registering your first sentence, he said, “And final my ass.”

When you smiled about your accomplishment again, a hand swatted at your butt a third time. And then, a suggestive glint appeared in his eye as he whispered, “I think I know of a way we can have our rematch without interrupting all these people waiting for the bull…”

That was how you found yourselves wandering away from the party and up the stairs to your apartment, hands on each other the whole way. As soon as Steve opened the door, his lips were on yours, his hands meeting your hips and his foot moving to kick the door closed. As often as you and Steve were on each other, you couldn’t recall a time when the door had been closed the proper way.

In a matter of seconds, both your hat and Steve's had been tossed aside, along with his jacket. Your hands met his hair as he kneeled in front of you, making quick work of your cowgirl boots and nipping at your clothed thighs. Perhaps he should've been a magician for Halloween with the way he could manage to make your clothes disappear

He kicked off his own boots, a skill he'd managed to cut down to five seconds flat. While he worked on the fastening of his own pants, you easily slipped yours off, leaving you in nothing but a bandana, vest and a pair of lacy panties that left little to the imagination.

Steve groaned at the sight as his lips met your neck, the vibration sending heat straight through you. “You're so fucking beautiful,” he murmured against your skin, fingernails digging into your love handles ever-so-slightly.

“Even dressed as a party store Barbie?” you smirked, the sentence being cut off by a sigh as his hand moved to cup your clothed core.

“Especially dressed as a party store Barbie.” His thumb rubbed a soft circle against your covered clit, eliciting a noise of approval from you.

A moment later, his pants and boxers were shoved down and tossed aside, leaving him completely bare for you. He didn't even bother to undo your vest, instead focusing on discarding the white lace to get to where he wanted to feel you most. You couldn't help the moan that left your lips as the air hit your most sensitive spots.

Lips were on lips as Steve lifted you, wrapping your legs around his waist as he forced the two of you backward into your bedroom. A small sound of both pain and pleasure came from you as your back hit the wall, overtaken by another, hungrier sound as the head of his cock teased at your entrance.

“Fuck,” you whined, canting your hips forward. You were desperate, oh so desperate, for him to be inside you at any capacity.

Still, Steve wasn't giving in that easily. “Gotta beg for it, princess. Otherwise, I don't know what you want.” He knew exactly what you craved, but he could be a dominant asshole sometimes, wanting to see just how far he could push you.

“I want to ride you,” you said, the words coming out in a sigh. Your hands pulled his face to yours, your lips meeting in a needy kiss and your tongues moving together hungrily.

With that simple sentence, Steve shifted your hips and used the space to push inside you. Both of you let out a synced groan, your body instinctively squeezing around his length.

Teeth nipped at his shoulder, eliciting a rather loud moan from his mouth as you sucked on his skin. “As sexy as that is, you know I got that Calvin Klein shoot coming up,” Steve reminded you.

You smirked at the thought. Steve “The Hawk” Harrington, had been invited by the Calvin Klein team to do his own campaign. The shoot was in just a few days, the two of you flying out to New York bright and early the next Monday. Every time you thought about him in those signature boxers, posing by a poolside, you nearly started to salivate.

A wicked expression lit up your face as you scratched at his chest this time, another moan coming from his lips. Clearly he was enjoying the feeling, but the rational side of his brain took over as he thrusted into you a little harder.

“Baby, as much as I love- fuck- the way it feels to have you marking me up,” he started to say, hips rolling into yours all the while, “I have to make sure I look my best for the photoshoot.”

“I think you look your best when you're all marked up,” you pouted, feigning innocence. With another nip at Steve's shoulder, you scratched him again, just to see what he'd do. His reaction wasn't quite what you expected, but it was still welcomed and still extremely sexy.

His hand met your neck, undoing the bright pink bandana that had been tied there. In one swift movement, he had you on the bed, pinning both of your arms above your head. With a nearly evil look, he tied your wrists together. “Bet you won't disobey now, huh?” he remarked, emphasizing his win with another deep roll of his hips.

Despite the restriction, you still managed to meet his thrusts like your life depended on it. Steve's name rolled off your tongue like a mantra, your way of showing him how you needed more of him, all of him.

Steve wrapped an arm around your body as he flipped the two of you over, giving you what you'd asked for earlier. His signature phrase, “Giddy up, cowgirl,” tumbled from his mouth, those three words only fueling you on.

His hands gripped your love handles, lifting you up and down his length. The restraint only made the scene that much more filthy, whine after whine falling from your lips.

The smell of sweat and sex wafted through the air, the partying crowd from downstairs being completely forgotten as the scent overtook you. They could be right outside your door, and honestly neither of you would care. As long as you were together, your bodies connected in any capacity, you didn't care who was around.

One of Steve's hands stayed on your hips while the other snaked between your bodies. His thumb rubbed circles over your aching clit, his eyes hooded as he watched you near your release.

“There ya go, cowgirl,” he encouraged, his fingers and dick working in tandem to please you just how you needed. “Take whatever you need from Daddy.”

His praise only made you keen further, your back arching and your mouth falling slack at just how much pleasure he was currently bringing you. To the best of your abilities, you bounced on his length a little harder, mentally cursing him for tying your hands together when you so desperately wanted to be gripping his shoulders or his hair.

“Stevie, please,” you begged. “I'm so close, but I can't-” Your sentence was cut off by a whimper as he thrusted up into you.

He knew exactly what you needed, finishing the statement for you. “If you can promise to not leave any more marks, I'll take it off, okay?”

You nodded, but obviously it wasn't enough, considering he once again told you to use your words. Another plea left your lips, this time telling him exactly what you needed.

With one flick of his finger, he undid the fastening around your wrists. Desperately, your hands met his hair, tugging at the tussled strands.

A chuckle rumbled through Steve's chest, the sound simultaneously hot and annoying. “Not sure Calvin will appreciate it if I show up all covered in marks.”

“I don't know,” you managed to smirk, your climax inching further as you continued to take his cock as deep as you could. “He might not, but I'm sure your female fans will.”

Ever the gentleman, he just leaned forward and kissed your neck with a juxtaposing sweetness to the otherwise lewd scene. “You're the only female fan I care about, sweetheart.”

The words made you clench around him. His thumb caressed your clit, the movement somehow both sweet and dirty. You were so close, and by the sudden twitch of his cock inside you, you could tell he was too.

“You're so beautiful,” he repeated, his lips meeting your wrist with a gentle kiss. Despite the earlier urgency, the air now had a level of soft intimacy to it that you simply couldn't explain. It was like that with Steve; one minute, he was a desperate mess, and the next, he was showing you how much he loved you.

The compliment was just what you needed to push you over the edge, your orgasm hitting you like a freight train. Steve quickly followed suit, his seed filling you up just how you always wanted.

You both collapsed in each other's arms, his now softening cock still buried inside you as he held your body close. His lips peppered what skin he had access to outside of your vest, his hands softly caressing your hips.

“Steve?” you said after a while of just laying there, just being together.

He hummed in question, too tired to form a full sentence.

You leaned up to look at him, a cheeky grin taking over your otherwise blissed-out face. “Not sure if you tying my wrists together was the sexiest thing or the meanest thing you've ever done.”

Steve met you with a smirk. “Can't it be both?”

With a roll of your eyes, your lips landed on his, and in that moment, you decided if you were to die just like that, you'd at least die a happy woman.

“I'll tell you what, though,” Steve said, a tired drawl to his words as he pulled you closer. “You sure are wilder than any eight second ride I've ever done.”

“I'll take that as a compliment,” you smiled giddily, meeting him halfway for another kiss.

-> taglist: @dungeons-are-too-cold @rupsmorge @writer-in-theory @esoltis280 @liberhoe @wifeyreid @serenity-lattes-reads

[nororitz]

narumi gen and academic achievement

tags: self-indulgent, bullet points-style, self-imposed stress, academics stuff, curse words, no kaiju au, non-established relationship

note: uh first post yay. english is not my first language ngl. also idk how to format anything please. writing this while i have an essay due tmr morning is crazy though.

• Recently, you've been stressing yourself over the overwhelming tests and work that never seems to end. After working your ass off for weeks without any respite, all your efforts are finally being paid off.

• Staring back at you was your phone screen with words of congratulations and a high score written along with it.

• Absolutely elated you turned to Narumi Gen, your close friend of many years. Preparing to tell the good news to Narumi who's busy with his controller and some kind of BS5 game.

• There's a high chance of him not even hearing you because he's too absorbed in his gaming, bloodshot eyes boring holes into the screen. Yet, you're still showing him your phone screen anyway, excitedly displaying your proud achievements. The adrenaline rush overpowering the small, hideous doubt stored in a corner of your mind.

• At first, you're sure he didn't even register your voice talking to him. But then suddenly Narumi is putting down his controller and taking the phone from your hand, the BS5 no longer playing game music and sound effects. His bangs block half of his face so you can't read his expression well. Silently, you eagerly awaits his reaction.

• After a while, he says "You worked hard so it's to be expected that you would do well," before handing your phone back to you. It's startling, but Narumi is really someone who is blunt.

• "Yeah...but there was a chance I still wouldn't be able to do it you know?" Narumi, who senses the sadness in your voice, goes still. Finally, he lets out a huff and faces you properly.

• "What are you talking about? Since when did you have so little faith in yourself? You always gave your all in everything so this result isn't surprising in the least." Damn this guy and his attitude.

• But this is pretty much Narumi Gen's roundabout way of saying I've seen you put your effort into this and I believed you would succeed from the start. It might seem like he doesn't care, but Narumi is a person who pays close attention to someone important to him.

• It did kind of sound like he was scolding you though. "Narumi, you really..." "Hah!?!?" Breaking a smile, the bickering between you and Narumi erases the traces of doubt lingering in your mind.

• Narumi is someone who knows about hard work, results, and acknowledgement better than anyone. So, I believe he would think that you were more than capable of achieving the results that you wanted. Even if he's not as direct about it, he has a lot of trust in your abilities.

• If you end up falling asleep in the living room at the end of the day, the familiar sounds of Narumi's BS5 lulling you to sleep. He would take a glance at you before muttering something like a, "You did well," his gaze holding a kind of secret fondness to it.

can you tell that i love narumi. he might be slightly ooc my brain is fried.

likes, reblogs, and comments are so very appreciated ☆

[lightlycareless]

I probably should be writing up my other requests, but I've decided to follow up on this ask and write a little drabble of how Toji and your daughter, Naomi (Naoya's the dad) met the first time. Just something silly lol. Hope you enjoy it nonetheless :) ngl i'm nervous i've never written toji before lmao.

warnings: none.

The first time he sees her was during one of his tedious, yet necessary visits to the Zen’in estate—a sulking child dejectedly playing with their toys by one of the many gardens.

The sight of children always irritated him, mostly those inside the estate because it meant they were his relatives one way or the other, and since he doesn’t really care for his “family” he barely gives the child a brief glance before continuing with his day.

The second time he sees her again would be under similar circumstances: dejectedly playing with her toys while in the same garden. This time however, in the company of someone else, presumably a staff member given their clothes.

But even when accompanied while doing what a kid could love the most (or so does Toji believe) she still looked as gloomily as ever, sulking with that pout he couldn’t see as anything else but whiny, if not brattish.

«That’s none of my business» he’d say as he moved on with his day yet again. Although the question of who could be the parent of such a miserable child settles in his mind.

Yet, his curiosity wouldn’t get the best of him until seeing her for a third time, and seemingly worse than before: moping around by one of the engawa, toys set aside, while looking down to the floor in such a depressed way Toji swore he saw the kid crying.

At this point, he just needed to know: is this child really that miserable? If so, why haven’t their parents done anything about it?? Not that he expected the Zen’in to care for the wellbeing of anyone outside “the greater good of the clan”, but if his experience was of any help, the one thing they disliked the most after disappointments, was drama.

With curiosity peaked to its highest, as well as feeling something very demure, almost undetectable, called pity, Toji decides to approach her.

“You’ve been moping around for 3 consecutive days; you better have a damn good reason to be this miserable.” Toji says, perhaps in the worst way possible someone could talk to a child; but one must excuse him, he doesn’t have much experience with kids outside of his own—and even then, it’s not that good.

Well, at least she didn’t run away at the sight of him like others have.

“d…n..t b..d… w…ds..” the young child says, no— murmurs. And in such an unintelligible way that Toji just can’t help but groan out of exasperation.

“Talk clearly.” He orders. “Why am I even trying…”

“Don’t say bad words!!” The little girl cries. “Or mama will ground you…”

“No need to yell, kid.” Toji frowns. “Anyways, is that why you’re all whiny? You grounded or something?”

The child doesn’t respond with anything else but a sniffle and a nod, before hugging her knees to bury her face in them.

“Why were you grounded for?”

“…Because I said a bad word.” She eventually murmurs again.

“I can’t hear you.” He scolds.

“Because I said a bad word!” She cries, and this makes Toji laugh.

“Really? That’s all?” He teases, still not believing her words. She frowns. “Back in my day one got grounded for a lot worse.”

Toji doesn’t know what he was expected; maybe to see her react the same snappy way his son always does, engage in a push-and-pull bickering that would just end up with him mocking her.

But she doesn’t, instead, she just stares at him for a few seconds before going back to her knees.

And that makes him feel a bit… let down.

“This got you really upset, huh?”

…

Silence.

He sighs.

“What’s the sentence?”

“Hm?” She looks up from her knees, a curious yet saddened look on her face.

“What are you grounded with?”

“…Mama said I can’t eat sweets for two weeks.”

Toji wishes to laugh, really, because this punishment was hilariously silly compared to what he expected, with a completely exaggerated reaction to follow! But… he supposes that for the spoiled kid he’s slowly starting to label her as, that might be the worst thing ever.

“Well, you’re already 3 days in. Just 11 to go.”

“But I don’t want to be grounded!” she cries. “I want sweets!!”

“Calm down, kid—it’s not the end of the world.”

“That’s easy for you to say… you’re not grounded.”

“I’ve been grounded, and with worse things too.” He says, and of course…

“Like what?”

She needs to know. Toji regrets ever saying anything immediately after.

“Uh, well, I got to do things I didn’t like either; you got it easy kid, I would’ve done anything to be punished like you were.” Truly, anything outside of being thrown into a pit of curses would’ve been a thousand times better.

“Sweets are too good.” the little girl excuses. “There’s nothing better than that!”

“They can ruin your teeth and make you all giddy if you eat too many.”

“… That’s what papa said too.” She pouts.

“Well, he’s right.” Toji says, and at the mention of both parents, he can’t help but wonder… “What’s your name, kid?”

“Naomi!” she responds instantly. “Naomi Zen’in.”

“Nao—” Toji blinks, twisting his face into a combination of surprise and… disgust? Did Naobito have another kid? At his old age? Really?? “Naomi?”

Maybe he heard wrong, but Naomi only nods excitedly.

“But everyone calls me princess.” She continues. “Because papa says I’m a princess and everyone should treat me as such!”

That… well, that doesn’t sound like anything Naobito would say, unless his old age is finally getting to him? If that’s the case…wow—Toji never thought he’d live to see this happen.

Still wants to be sure though.

“Who’s your dad?”

Naomi blinks.

“You don’t know who papa is?” She asks, with a delicate mocking tone that reassures him she’s a Zen’in. “Everyone knows who my papa is!”

“I’m not everyone.” He scowls, a reaction that rattles Naomi a bit. He sighs. “I’m not around that often so I don’t know what goes down at the estate—just tell me his name, kid.”

“Papa.” Naomi responds proudly, before Toji’s laughter swiftly wipes the joy out of her face. “…What?”

“That’s not his name” he continues laughing. “He has a name, just like you.”

“…is papa’s name not papa?”

“Like you’re not named princess, that’s what people call you.” Around the same way he’s called a disgrace, but that’s a story for another time. “You don’t know your dad’s name? What about your mom?”

“…Mama…”

“Come on, kid, you must know something.”

“My name is not kid.” She frowns, before pressing her lips together in order focus on discovering their names—to no avail.

Not even her own parents were to be of any help, since they’d always use pet names when referring to one another, or at least from what she recalled.

But there is one title that eventually manages to cross her mind, one that her mama would use when she’s feeling playful, tease her papa with it…

“Captain…?”

“Captain?” Toji raises an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to—”

Wait.

Captain… who holds a title like that inside the Zen’in estate? There are only two groups that he knows of that have such a position, the kukuru and the hei.

But if she was the daughter of someone from the kukuru unit, she wouldn’t be allowed to freely roam the estate, so that only leaves one—

No.

No way.

She couldn’t.

Is that why—

“Naoya?” Toji breathes. “Your dad is Naoya??”

That wimpy kid that would secretly follow him around whenever at the estate, but never approach him?

The brattish heir of the Zen’in?

The one no one liked? Not even his subordinates?

That man—that man was a father now?

Well shit, consider him rightfully surprised.

“Yes!” She grins, nodding. “Mama said I was named like him!”

Oh, now he remembers. The whole charade when his engagement was first announced, followed by his wedding.

He was invited to the ceremony too, but didn’t go, or more likely, didn’t stay for the whole thing. Just took whatever he could from there and left—he does remember thinking that it wouldn’t take long before Naoya divorced her or something…

But this little girl’s existence proved that his relationship not only endured but flourished—and given the way she spoke of him, Naoya hadn’t been as precarious as he believed. If anything, he was proving to be a better father than anyone could expect of the Zen’in!

No doubt, work of your influence; it must be, you’re still around after all…

Well, all that he could say regarding this situation was good for her. Naomi is certainly living a better life than anyone in her similar circumstances would’ve gotten.

“Your mom is Y/N, isn’t she?” Toji asks, Naomi nods. “Well, you’re certainly unexpected.”

Alongside the fact that spoiled brat Naoya managed to behave as a proper parent by punishing her daughter. Certainly seemed like it would happen from what little he was able to perceive of their family dynamic.

No wonder she was upset, this was probably the first time she had experienced the consequences of her actions. But if so, what did she do?

“Anyways, what word did you say to get you grounded?”

She shakes her head.

“No! I’m not telling! Or you’ll tell mama… just like Mariya-chan….”

Toji chuckles.

“I won’t”

Naomi continues shaking her head, not yet convinced. At least she’s not that naïve.

“Really, I mean it.” He insists. “What is that thing that always—ah, right.”

Toji offers Naomi his pinky finger.

“I pinky promise.”

And just like that, Naomi smiles, taking his pinky with hers. Well, maybe she was still naïve.

“Ok!” she nods, and without further precedent— “I said fuck!”

He chokes for a quick second, before erupting into laughter.

“Sorry, I didn’t hear right—what —what did you say?”

“Fuck!”

He laughs harder. Oh, boy was this funnier than he imagined!eHe

“What was that again? I didn’t catch that.”

“Fuuuuuckkkkk!!” Naomi whines, irritated. “Why can’t you listen?? Are you deaf???”

It’s not that he wasn’t listening appropriately, oh no, he heard her very well.

But rather, he just couldn’t stop himself from finding the way she said such common word in her little voice hilarious. It was just… funny to hear a little kid a word they shouldn’t be saying. When the kid wasn’t his, of course.

“Where’d you learn to say that?” Toji asks, doing his best to hold back his laughter, less he wants to lose this gold mine of entertainment!

“One of mama’s friends taught me! Satoru-nii” Naomi responds, his amusement dies soon after.

“Satoru…?” He repeats slowly. “As in Gojo Satoru?”

She nods.

Guess it’s not that funny anymore.

“You need better friends than him, kid.” Toji advises.

“Why? Are you better?” Naomi frowns. Well, there’s no doubt now that she’s Naoya’s daughter.

“Just saying” he shrugs.

“…I’m sorry.” She apologizes. Now that came from you. “…I really like Satoru-nii, but mama said he could be… weird.”

«That’s an easy way to put it.» Toji thinks. “She’s right, you know?”

“But he’s so funny…”

“But she’s still your mom.” Toji says; unsure why he’s even justifying you. Naomi’s not his kid, after all.

“But Satoru-nii is her friend!”

“But she’s still your mom.” He repeats. It’s a “lesser evil” type of thing. But really, he dislikes both families.

“But he’s my friend too!”

“But you—"

Toji, recognizing the pattern of endless back and forth bickering he’s slowly falling into, immediately puts an end to this conversation by muttering a low “ok, we’re not doing that.” standing up and readying his departure—but not before lightly ruffling her hair, making Naomi whine.

“Just keep out of trouble, kid.” And so, he leaves, barely allowing Naomi to respond as she’s forced to nothing but see the strange, yet oddly familiar man, disappear into the hallways.

Toji would continue to see Naomi the following days, and with the same sulkiness that made him rightfully assume she was still grounded.

The difference now is that whenever Naomi noticed him, she’d greet him with an eager wave alongside a toothy grin that initially confused him, believing it was directed at someone else, before realizing that this only happened each time he was around—so yes, it was him that she acknowledged.

And this was, to say the least, quite… heartwarming.

Yes, even a man like himself could feel such a thing—something he never thought he’d experience in his life… at least inside the Zen’in estate. To be seen, even if was by a child, and be happy about it.

He sighs.

Ok, fine. Even when their interactions were limited, he still grew a bit fond of the child. She’s still a bit bratty according to Toji’s parameters, but she’s also nice, and very funny; a very needed change for the always boring, cold, mocking, and stupid people around the estate.

So… why not? Sure, she might’ve done something wrong, but it wasn’t that bad. She deserves a break too, you know? He sure ain’t getting it for himself.

Thus, the next time he sees her…

“Here, brat. So you stop moping around.” He says, dumping Naomi with a white box. The girl blinks, far too intrigued and confused by his gift to bother correcting him. “Come on now, open it.”

Naomi doesn’t need to be told twice before her little hands swiftly rip the tape holding the edges of the box and lifting the lids, eyes soon glistening with excitement upon realizing what it was.

“For me?!” She breathes; big round eyes scanning through all its delicious contents: nothing less than chocolates.

“If you can keep a secret.”

“Mama said secrets are not good.” She frowns, Toji sighs.

“Well then, don’t keep it a secret. See if you’ll get in trouble.”

Naomi pouts, shaking her head.

“… thank you.” She eventually says, with a smile that makes Toji a bit homesick. “Um…”

“What now?” he raises an eyebrow.

“I don’t know your name.”

Oh. Right. He asked for her name but didn’t introduce himself. Better late than never.

“Toji.”

“Tooojiiii” she repeats slowly, as if testing out the name before giggling. “Thank you Toji-nii!”

“No—Don’t—don’t call me that.” He says, with a scowl that isn’t really meant out of disgust, but rather… it just made him uncomfortable. He didn’t even call Jinichi that! What made anyone think he’d like it for himself?!

“Then what do I call you…?” she frowns, as if this were the most trivial thing to ponder about.

And Toji wishes to say “just my name” before moving on…

But when all the possible outcomes this window of opportunity provided appeared before his mind’s eye, his lips parted into a smile.

He might as well take a chance.

“Well, there is one way you can call me.”

By the start of the second week—not that this hadn’t been the case since the first day—you began to feel very, very regretful for having “punished” your daughter.

Yes, you knew this was bound to happen when you became a mother, and yes, as much as it was endearing to give, you also needed to take…

But oh, you just loved your cute daughter so, so much, all you ever wanted was to see her happy! And alongside the rumors you’ve heard of her behavior apparently being so pitiful since she was grounded… was it really a surprise to anyone that you’ve decided to go against your word and revoke her punishment a bit early?

She still went through a week of it, of course, hopefully enough to get the point across—Besides, it was just one small thing, surely your decision wouldn’t affect the lesson to be learned… that much, right?

At least that is what you tell yourself as you approach Naomi during one of her playtimes, calling out her name before taking a seat by her side and gently hugging her. It warms your heart that even when upset about being grounded, she’s still as lovable as ever given the way her face brightens up when seeing you and tightly hugging you back.

“What are you doing, little pumpkin?” you ask.

“Playing, mama. But I’m hungry.” She whines, you chuckle.

“Well, food is almost ready.” You lean down to kiss the top of her head. “Have you been good while I’ve been away?”

“Always!” she gasps. “…I guess.”

“Why do you guess?” you ask, tilting your head to the side. Naomi has never been the unsure one. “Aren’t you my good little princess?”

“Yes… but I still can’t eat sweets, and if I can’t eat sweets, it’s because I haven’t been good.” Naomi lamented.

You give her a tight smile, kissing her one more time before taking out a small box from your obi and handing it to her; she recognized it all too well, enough to gasp and smile!

However, that excitement dies soon after when remembering her current circumstances.

“I know, I know.” You sigh, leaning your head over hers, hugging her softly. “I said you were grounded till the end of the week because we didn’t want you disobeying me or papa… but oh, I don’t like it when you’re sad!”

“…I didn’t mean to.” Naomi murmurs, your heart squeezes with adoration.

“I know, pumpkin.” You coo. “But we don’t like it when you copy bad habits from others; you’re a pretty, intelligent, lovely girl— you don’t need any of that!”

“… I’m sorry mama!” she sobs, pressing her face against your chest, you chuckle.

“Oh, I’m not scolding you, baby!” you say, gently patting her back. “In fact, I’m here because I wanted to tell you that you’re no longer grounded.”

“Re—really?!” she gasps, raising her teary-eyed face to see you. You nod.

“But only if you tell me you understood why you were grounded in the first place.”

“Yes! I understood! No more bad words!” Naomi fervently nods. “I promise!!”

“Then, let’s celebrate with your favorite!” you cheer, rubbing her tears away with your sleeve.

“Taro mochi!” she giggles, quick to open the box.

“Just don’t tell papa, ok? He doesn’t know I decided to do this on my own.”

Although you’re quite surprised he hadn’t done so himself, probably because he was away on a mission, he did tell you he didn’t enjoy seeing Naomi upset with him—how the two managed to ground her in the first place was quite the mystery itself, one that will probably never be answered.

“Promise!” Naomi nods and then, she begins to eat one of the mochi, with her chubby face beaming with delight at the return of her all-time favorite treat. Hopefully this won’t ruin her appetite too much… “Thank you, mama!”

“You’re welcome, Naomi. But don’t talk with your mouth full, baby.” You giggle, taking one for yourself. “And don’t chew too fast!”

Naomi tries her best to do what you ask, but her excitement for having her favorite sweets back overrules everything else; in that sense, she takes after you.

After she’s satisfied with the mochi, but still hungry for dinner, the two decide to make a quick stop by the bedroom to change clothes, before eventually going to the dining hall and wait for the food to be ready.

When walking towards the living quarters, Naomi would tightly hold onto your hand while telling you about her day, which often consisting of just playing with her toys under some imaginative plotline she made up for the occasion—this time: a secret spy that needed to infiltrate this heavily guarded mansion to give a fellow spy a special package.

While in true Naomi fashion, this still somehow went against what she usually conjured up, naturally prompting you to ask where’d she get such idea, perhaps from a movie?

But before she could give you an answer, Naomi suddenly stops, eyes intently focused on something at a distance, with such dedication you could only think she saw a ghost! Until a grin appears on her lips, using her free hand to eagerly wave at the person across the garden.

An innocent greeting at first, making you smile at the notion of how bubbly your daughter was.

Had she not screamed the words that made you choke, dumbfoundedly shooting up to see who it was, while wonder why she referred to him that way!

“Hello, Toji-sama!!” Naomi sang. “I’m not grounded anymore!!”

And Toji seems to have forgotten of this arrangement given the way he confusedly looked up towards the origin of that shrilly voice, not finding any correlation between the girl waving at him and himself even after seeing her… until suddenly, all comes back at him, making him chuckle and think “How could I forget?” before briefly greeting her back and moving on.

Their interactions ends swiftly soon after, and Naomi returns to her previous conversation with such comfort, it was almost as if it didn’t even happen.

But of course, this exchange, even while brief, undoubtedly created a lasting impression on you, starting an endless ocean of questions ranging from when did she meet him to why did she call him that honorific, of literally any other??

Well, if it was worth anything… this shouldn’t come to you as a surprise considering how highly Naoya thought of him; Naomi might’ve heard her father compliment him and somehow, compared him to a deity.

Still a bit… dramatic, but at the end of the day, her daughter was nothing but a child, bound to make silly innocent things like this.

So, you let this slide by chuckling and continuing listening to Naomi’s “highly secretive but very thrilling spy story” as she wanted you to “coolly describe.” before arriving at the dining hall and eating.

Believing that in the sense of seeking the remarkable, Naomi takes after her dad.

That's me trying to explain that Naomi's acceptance and eventual admiration of Toji comes from Naoya lmao. Inherited for sure :) when you tell Naoya about this he's like "WHY DIDN'T I THINK OF THAT BEFORE?!" You ask him to not encourage her lol.

[thebigbadbatswife]

Internal Conflict (Part 2 of 3)

Pairing - Batman x F!Hero!Reader Series - Under Your Skin Part 1 here | Part 3 here

Summary - Following the aftermath of your fight with the Dark Knight, you end up recieving a call from him asking you for help on one of his cases. Making you wonder, just what is he up to?

Warnings - Canon typical violence, brief mention of death, major character injury, blood. (If I somehow missed a TW, lmk!)

A/N - Since for October I'll be posting what I've written for Kinktober, Part 3 will be coming sometime during Novemeber simply so it isn't lost in the wave of fics! As always hope you enjoy! 💜

Taglist - At the end of the fic. Please message me if you would like to be added/removed.

Word Count - 5.1k

You sighed softly as you wrapped the towel around your body and walked out of the bathroom. The blinds were open, allowing the early morning sunlight to stream into your bedroom. Something that your cat was taking full advantage of as he was fully stretched out across your bed. You chuckled as you briefly stopped to ruffle his fur, earning you a small chirp as his eyes opened and he greeted you.

“How about some breakfast?” He perked up at that, meowing as he got back up onto his paws and followed you from the bedroom to the kitchen.

Today was going to be a good day, you had decided. Not even Batman was going to get you down. Not that he had been doing much in the ways of talking, or arguing, with you anyway. Of course that was likely down to how good you had become at avoiding him or making sure you had left the room before anyone else. Now the only time he spoke to you was during briefing, the middle of a mission or debriefing.

The injury that you had sustained during Lex’s attack had not only kept you away from your usual superhero duties, but had left quite the scar. Some of your focus over the past few weeks had been on healing and slowly building your strength back up, following the advice that Black Canary had given you. Though you had no actual proof, you suspected that the advice had actually come from Batman. Why he hadn’t just given it to you direct, you didn’t understand. You might hate his guts, but he was still a teammate. And a teammate who was very knowledgeable when it came to the medical side of things. If he had any advice to give in regards to that, then you would listen.

The rest of your focus had been on your equipment and future suits. It was important, not only to be prepared, but to stay a few steps ahead of the bad guys.

Now that your leg was fully healed, you would be returning to the Watchtower today. Though had been talking to everyone, other than Batman, through the group chat that The Flash had set up, it wasn’t the same as seeing everyone in person. You had also missed kicking bad guys’ asses and doing your best to make the world a little bit better.

After you had gotten your cat his breakfast, you proceeded to make yourself something and sat down on your couch. It was rare that you were awake this early. Typically waking up either right before or right after midday. You were curious of what sort of trashy tv was on at this time in the morning. As you flipped through the channels, you came across a talkshow that had Bruce Wayne on as their guest star. You didn’t have a clue as to what had been said, but the host was laughing rather hard. With nothing else to watch, you decided to leave it on while you ate. Besides, he was very easy on the eyes. He was a man that you certainly wouldn’t throw out of your bed.

You scoffed and shook your head. Damn. Was this really what you were doing? Fantasising about a well known womanising billionaire? Dammit, you really needed to get out more. It was just a shame that the superhero lifestyle didn’t really allow for that. You switched the tv off and focused on finishing your breakfast. It wasn’t going to do you any good to dwell on things like that. The life that you had choses was a good one, even if it did get lonely at times.

Once you were finished with breakfast, and had finally gotten dressed, you walked over to your bookcase and pulled on rather inconspicuous book. There were several clicking noises and the bookcase slid back before sliding to the side, revealing a hidden elevator. You stepped inside and pressed one of two buttons. As the doors slid shut, the bookcase slid back into place.

The elevator trip was a long one. It had to be to get from your apartment all the way down to the hidden basement of this building. The money wasn’t yours. At least it hadn’t always been yours. The money, the company, the real estate. All of it had been your father’s, but after his untimely death everything he’d had landed into your lap. 

Your father’s death had been the catalyst to your new life as a crimefighter. That was a day that you didn’t like to dwell on for too long. Besides today was supposed to be a good day and it very well couldn’t be if you were wishing you could change the past.

The doors of the elevator dinged as they opened up into your base. It wasn’t the most hightech place, especially when compared to a place like the Watchtower, but it did everything you needed it do. And you weren’t looking to upgrade it right now.

A large black box sat on the centre table. The sight of it made you smile. You had forgotten that was down here. Your new suit. You hadn’t had a chance to try it on before Luthor had injured you. Well what better time to debut it than now?

Your smile was big as you checked yourself out in the mirror. Your friend had done well. Very well. From the colours to the new kevlar weave, it was a hell of a lot better than your last one. And it should hold up nicely against bald rich men and their overly large mechs. Mechs that were definitely compensating for something.

Once you had gone through your gear, making sure you had everything you needed, you left your base and headed for the nearest zeta tube.

The Watchtower was quiet when you arrived. Which wasn’t a surprise, with how early it was. You imagined people had either already gone home, after working all night, or were slowly waking up. Being mindful of that, you kept your steps light and made you way toward the breakroom. As you entered the room you were greeted with the smell of freshly brewed coffee. Other than yourself the only other person in the breakroom was Black Canary.

In recent months you and her had become quite close. So close, in fact, that you knew each other’s secret identities. After all, you weren’t just coworkers or allies, you were friends. And it felt good to have friends that you could share the burdens of a superhero life with. As much as you trusted your friend that made your suits, at the same time you knew that there were lots of things that she couldn’t understand. 

“Welcome back,” Dinah greeted you as you entered the room. “There’s coffee, if you want any.”

“Thanks, it feels good to be back,” you replied. You made your way over to the coffee machine and poured yourself a cup before joining her at the table.

The two of you spent the morning catching up with each other. It felt good to finally catch up with each other in person. It really wasn’t the same using text on a screen. As you chatted, the door to the breakroom opened and in walked Batman. You took a long drink from your cup, keeping your focus on what Dinah was saying, pretending that he wasn’t there. He didn’t stay in the breakroom for long. Grabbing himself some coffee before leaving again.

She looked between you and the closed door. You thought she was going to ask you what was going on there, you knew the question had to be everyone’s minds. The two of you go from being at each other’s throats to not speaking whatsoever? She didn’t though.

“Me, Ollie and Hal are going to a bar later tonight, if you want to come along as well?” she offered.

It sounded good; a night out with your friends. It had been awhile since you had last been out. Maybe that was what you needed. To go out, get drunk and maybe end up waking up next to a stranger. Something that might help in you in forgetting how it had felt to have sex with him.

You nodded. “Yeah, that sounds great. I would love to. You know, as long as no supervillain tries world domination again.” 

Dinah chuckled at that.

The bar was far quieter than you had thought it was going to be. It didn’t look like you were going to be taking anyone back to your hotel room tonight. Which was fine. You were here to hang out with your friends after all. While Dinah, Oliver and Hal had ordered themselves some beers, you had opted for just a soda. The more you had thought about it, the more you hadn’t wanted to get drunk. You would rather to keep a clear and focused mind. Maybe next time.

Right now the four of you were laughing at Hal’s rather on point impression of Batman. You shook your head, smiling, and calming yourself down long enough to take a sip of your drink. After weeks of being cooped up, using the majority of your free time to focus on future equipment blueprints and potential future materiels to use, while your leg had healed, it felt good to be out with them.

Oliver raised his beer bottle to his lips, frowning when he found it empty. “I’m gonna go and get us another round,” he announced as he got up and turned to head toward the bar.

“I’ll help you,” Hal said very abruptly, going after him.

You frowned. That was… strange. What was going on with him? That was when you saw it, out of the corner of your eye, Dinah moving, leaning in close to you, so that no one would overhear. Now you understood.

“You and Batman. Spill.”

You looked at her like she had just grown horns. You scoffed. “What do you mean “spill”? You’ve seen the arguments. Everyone one has. What else is there to talk about?”

She raised an eyebrow at you. It was more than clear that she didn’t believe a word you were saying. “Right. That’s why you both disappeared for hours at a time afterward hmmm? Because there’s nothing else to talk about?”

Okay. It was clear to you that she definitely knew what happened between you and Batman, but how? Had she somehow overheard the two of you? Mentally, you shook your head. It didn’t matter how close you were with her, you would still rather forget what had happened between you and Batman and talking to her about it wouldn’t help. Before anything else could be said, Oliver and Hal returned to the table, drinks in hand.

“And what were you two talking about?” Oliver asked as he set down his and Dinah’s drinks, while Hal set down his and yours. You thanked him.

“Nothing, just some girl talk,” she replied. You nodded in agreement with her before taking a sip of your drink.

The rest of the night went by quickly. The situation between you and Batman wasn’t brought up again, but you didn’t believe that Oliver and Hal were oblivious to the situation. The timing of their leaving and Dinah’s questions were too much of a coincidence. It made you wonder how many more Leaguers were aware of it. 

As the night came to a close, they walked you back to the zeta tube. Since you weren’t having a one night stand tonight, you figured you may as well just go back to your apartment.

You were curled up on your couch, underneath a fleece with a bowl of popcorn on your lap. You were watching a movie you had been meaning to watch for a while now, but had just never got around to it. Until now. It had felt good to go out with your friend, but it had completely drained your social battery. You needed to recharge, so to speak. And this was the perfect way to do so.

You were about halfway through the movie when the phone you had specifically for League only business, started to ring. It was for emergencies, in case that you weren’t on the Watchtower or away from home. You paused the movie and picked up the phone, groaning when you saw who was calling you. Batman? There were plenty of other Leaguers available tonight, so why you?

You pushed the thought away. It didn’t matter. He was a teammate and he needed help.

“Where are you?” you asked as soon as you had answered the phone. There wasn’t any time to waste if he was in trouble.

“There’s an old amusement park, just outside of Gotham.” He sounded winded. Something you were sure that you had only picked up on because of you… time together.

“I’m on my way.”

The sight of the amusement park had the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end. It just seemed… wrong. A place that was supposed to be filled with people, lights and laughter was dark, devoid of life and decaying. It was unsettling. The fog drifting in certainly wasn’t helping with that.

You stayed down and kept your steps light as you stalked through the park, looking for Batman. You wouldn’t lie, it confused you a lot. Why he would call you, of all people, for help. Hell, the fact that he had called for help to begin with. You had heard the stories from the other Leaguers. How is stubbornness to handle things all by himself had nearly killed him more than once. Not to mention that he had made his feeling about you more than perfectly clear. So why had he asked you for help? Especially when there were other Leaguers that he not only liked more, but had more experience with this sort of thing than you did. There were plenty of them on standby. You knew because you had double checked, in case the two of you weren’t enough for whatever this threat was.

You thought about asking him why, once you found him, but you dismissed it almost as quickly as it had come to mind. He wouldn’t tell you even if you did. There was no point in wasting your breath.

The old rides groaned and creaked. Chains, whose purpose had been long forgotten rattled and banged against various makeshift stands and equally rusted poles. The clanging noise echoing around you. The shadowy remains of the rollercoaster loomed high above you, like the unnatural skeleton of some giant creature. If you hadn’t been unsettled before, you certainly were now.

Voices ahead caught your attention. They were loud and distressed. Like they had been attacked. You had a good feeling you knew by who. Sticking to the shadows, you slowly began to creep toward them. Through the fog, two silhouettes started to take shape ahead of you, but before you could get closer, someone grabbed you. An arm wrapped around your waist white the other covered your mouth, pulling you to the side and keeping you secured against a muscular chest. Your instincts had kicked in and you attempted to fight against the person who had grabbed you, not stopping to think who it might actually be. You stopped when you heard his voice.

“It’s me.” His voice was deep and gravelly, sending goosebumps across your skin. You were thankful your suit didn’t show any skin.

Even as you stopped fighting, your body remained tense. You stayed still and silent. The two of you watched as the two figures, two henchmen dressed in black and red, rushed past. They were yelling at how Batman must have gone in the direction they were headed, completely unaware that in their hurry they had run past him and you. When they were gone, their footsteps fading, he released his grip on you. Now free, you spun around to face him.

You were so close together, lips centimetres apart. If either of you moved forward just a little bit they would meet…

You snapped out of it immediately and backed away from him, putting space between you both. What the hell where you thinking? This was not the time or place to be thinking with anything other than you brain. Especially with him, of all people.

“What’s going on?” you asked, making sure to keep your voice low.

He gestured with his head for you to follow him before he moved away from the wall, continuing down the makeshift alleyway. 

“I’ve been investigating the recent super villain attacks,” he started to explain as he led you through the park. “So many happening so close together is too much for it to be a coincidence.”

You stuck to the shadows and kept low. The henchmen were on high alert from their run in with Batman. You were sure that their trigger fingers were itching, ready to fire at anything that looked just a little bit like a bat.

“They’re connected?” While you had found the attacks a little strange, you hadn’t found it so strange to have thought that they might be connected. Of course, that's why he was the World's Greatest Detective. He saw and picked up on things that others didn't.

He nodded and looked over his shoulder at you. “Tonight should prove that.” Then he turned back and continued leading you.

Batman didn’t elaborate further. Not that that wasn’t unexpected. He had a thing for being cryptic. That was something you had learned quickly after joining the League. The amusement park was crawling with henchmen as well. Too much talking and you could definitely end up drawing some very much unwanted attention. Being silent for the time being would be best.

Still, it was gnawing at you. Why had he asked for your help? There was a part of you that really wanted to know. You remembered the night in Star City vividly. The words said, how he had snapped at you. Showing his true colours. Similar fights had broken out on the Watchtower, more often than not involving him and Hal. As far as you knew he had never called him for assistance. Especially when there were other Leaguers he preferred working with. Then it hit you. Was this his way of attempting to start over with you? 

The two of you soon came to a funhouse. Which, unlike the rest of the park, was seemingly devoid of life entirely. The quiet though. It didn’t feel natural.

Batman rose a hand as he stopped in his tracks, stopping you at the same time.

“Something’s wrong,” he stated, voice low.

“Definitely,” you agreed with him for once. “Could it be a trap?”

“Maybe. Stick close.”

You nodded and followed him into the funhouse.

Floorboards creaked beneath your feet. Some of them felt like they were about to break beneath your weight. So you kept your steps as light as possible, hoping to avoid that. You didn’t want to reinjure your leg. There was a strong stench of wood rot and mould, making you wrinkle your noise in disgust. The further into the funhouse that you got, the worse the smells started to get.

After walking through a couple of rooms that had clearly been gutted, you and Batman came to a hallway full of mirrors. The distorted mirrors coerced the walls and ceiling. They were either cracked or broken, glass littering the floor, cracking and crunching beneath your boots. He came to a stop before one of the broken mirrors, something catching his eye, and stepped through it. You followed after him, careful of the jagged pieces of glass that were still attached to the frame.

There was a short hallway behind the mirror, with a door at the end of it. Likely for employees back when this place was still operational. Batman had already dropped down onto one knee, lockpicking equipment in hand, working on the door’s lock. You kept watch, listening for anyone who might potentially be headed this way. A few minutes later, you heard the door creak open.

It hadn’t been open for even a few seconds before the smell hit you. It had you coughing hard and gagging, though nothing came up. You covered your nose with your arm, hoping to try and block out some of the smell. It felt like it was all over you, coating your hair, skin and the inside of your throat and nose. You had no idea if you were ever going to be able to get it off of you. It was a smell of rot, but not like what you had been breathing in throughout the funhouse so far. This was far, far worse. The only thing you could think was that this was what death must smell like. Which had your stomach churning.

Other than a few coughs when the door first opened, Batman didn’t seem to be overly effected by the smell. It made you wonder just how many times he had to have encountered the stench before for it to not effect him as much as it was effecting you. You were about to ask him to confirm that what you thought you were smelling was exactly that, when you were stopped by the sound of laughter.

“Are those—”

“Hyenas? Yes,” he cut you off. “Two of them, to be exact. Stay close.”

Hyenas? Who of Gotham’s criminals kept hyenas again? You racked your brain for the answer. It came to you as you followed him further in. Harley Quinn. She kept hyenas. You were only aware of that because everytime she did something it was big, televised and all over social media.

“Harley Quinn is here?” 

“Most likely, but even if she’s not here currently she would have left something behind,” he replied. “Either way we should stay on high alert. She’s become even more dangerous since Joker’s death.”

“Didn’t she kill him?” 

“Yes, in a slaughter house. There wasn’t much left of him.”

Though he didn’t go into detail, your mind unprovoked conjured up an image of what likely happened, making you cringe. 

“You saw?”

He was silent for a moment before finally answering you. “Yes. I arrived too late to stop her.”

As you continued deeper into the funhouse, the smell of rot grew stronger, making you gag again. The hyenas’ laughter had stopped by now, which made you even more anxious. At least before, when they were making noise, you could have pinpointed where they were.

After walking down a maze of corridors that all looked the same as each other, the two of you soon came to a room where the smell was at its strongest. It wasn’t hard to see why. You didn’t know what this room would have been when the funhouse was being used, but now it had a large cage in the centre of it. There were two hyenas with spiked collars within the cage, surrounded by bones and fighting over a piece of meat. It looked fresh, meaning they had been fed recently. Harley was probably close by then.

The bigger of the two won the fight and ran off with its prize. While the smaller one now had its attention fixed on you and Batman. Its ears came forward as it sniffed the air intensely. You were grateful for the bars the stood between you and the hyenas.

There was a couple of desks shoved into the corner of the the room, piled with various papers and files and there was a map of Gotham attached to a corkboard, sitting just above the desks. While you had been focused on Harley’s pets, Batman had already made his way over to the desk and was going through the papers.

“She stole them from the zoo an hour afterwards,” he answered your unasked question, like he could read your mind.

You nodded and moved away from the cage, deciding to help him go through the papers to help him. Only for him to bat your hands way and glaring at you for getting in his way.

“Only trying to help!” you snapped.

“Then keep watch,” he grumbled, looking way from you and continuing to focus on the task at hand.

Folding your arms across your chest, your turned away from the desk to survey the rest of the room. If Harley was still around, after feeding the hyenas, she wasn’t going to be getting the drop on the two of you. As you kept watch, you listened to the way he was sutling through the papers.

Wondering what was taking so long, you briefly looked over your shoulder, watching how he shuffled through the papers and kept looking up at the map. Trying to match the information with the scribbles perhaps? Before you could think to ask, his head snapped up and you found yourself being thrown across the room.

You hit the floor, hard. Pain radiated through your arm and ribs at how awkward your landing was. Your arm, thankfully, hadn’t been broken in the fall, but with the way your ribs hurt from just shallow breaths you figured a couple of them had to be broken. As you pushed yourself up from the ground, hissing as your arm protested, you looked back over to where you had just been standing.

Batman laid on the floor, completely still, whilst Harley Quinn stood over him, an almost comically large mallet in her hands. How the hell was she carrying that thing, let alone managing to swing it?

She looked away from his body and over to you.

“Who are you? Batsy’s newest sidekick or just the stand in until Catwoman comes back?” she taunted, a smile on her face.

You pushed down the anger you could feel rising in you at her comment. You couldn’t let her get a rise out of you. Doing so could, and most likely would, get both you and Batman killed. If that initial hit from the mallet hadn’t already killed him. You really hoped that it hadn’t. One of your hands came up to your utility belt and pressed the SOS button there. Though you were sure you could take Harley on, Batman was still in need of serious and immediate medical attention and you seriously doubted you would be able to haul him out of here by yourself.

“The silent type like him huh? Ugh, how boring!” She rolled her eyes.

She charged for you, her mallet at the ready. You waited until the last second to jump out of the way. The resulting swing made Harley stumble and almost fall over. While she had the strength to lift and swing the mallet, her control over it seemed to depend whether or not she hit someone with it. You could work with that.

You kept light on your feet, dodging each of her swing. The aim right now was to try to tire her out, before you got tired yourself. Which would hopefully give you an opening to take her out.

“Stop moving!” she yelled as you dodged again. The time, instead of hitting air, the mallet smashed into the door of the cage. The door squeaked as it swung open and banged against the bars of the cage. Your stomach dropped. Fuck.

She laughed manically and pointed at you. “Babies! Get her!”

The hyenas whooped and giggled as they ran out of their cage, baring their teeth as the headed straight for you. You didn’t want to hurt them, at the same time you really didn’t fancy getting ripped apart by them. You narrowly avoided the bigger on as it lunged for you and kicked out at the other one, trying to force it back. You went to reach for your belt, but a gunshot rang out, making you jump.

“Uh uh uh! My babies can’t use flash grenades so neither can you! The next bullet goes into your leg if I see you reaching for that pesky belt again!” Harley was now sat on one of the desks. Her mallet was propped up next to it and a gun in her hand. Batman was still laying on the ground, unmoving. God, you wished he would just spring back up and surprise her, but he wasn’t going to. This was all up to you now.

The hyenas were well coordinated, doing their best to get you to jump back into either one of their jaws. Which you really didn’t want. You could smell the rotten meat stuck deep within their sharp teeth. You were sure that a single bite from either of them would likely be singing your death certificate. And the longer this went on for, the more of a chance they had to do that. You were going to be bitten if you didn’t find a way to either render them unconscious or scare them. 

As you did your best to avoid the hyenas, you were getting closer and closer to Harley. Who was getting more and more annoyed that her “babies” hadn’t ripped you apart yet. Taking both her and the hyenas by surprise, you darted forward and grabbed the mallet, doing your very best to swing it. It hit one of the hyenas, making it yelp as it slid across the floor. When it climbed back up onto its feet, it ran out of the room, the other one following close behind. You let go of the mallet and it hit the floor with a loud thump.

“How dare you!” she screamed, the gun she held was now pointed directly at you. Though you jumped out of the way as she pulled the trigger, pain flared through your side. Ignoring the pain in your side, you darted forward again. Disarming her with a kick and slamming her head down into the desk, successfully knocking her out cold.

Your hand went to your side and when you pulled it away again, it was covered in your blood.

“Fuck,” you muttered, pressing your hand back against your side. You really hoped that the bullet hadn’t hit anything vital.

After handcuffing her, you left Harley laying where she was and dropped down by Batman’s side. “You had better not be dead,” you told him. Using your non-bloodied hand, you slipped it beneath his cowl to get to his neck. You sighed in relief when you finally found his pulse. You removed your hand and slumped against the desk. Now all you had to do was wait for help to arrive and hope that her thugs or hyenas didn’t end up coming back beforehand.

So much for today being a good day.

*

Taglist - @the-last-twin-of-krypton @bakugous-bakahoe @fromfoolishpeopletodeadpeople @little-rivers @callalily2000 @geminicinderella @warsaur @theclassicvinyldragon @aniya7 @bluebear19 @jdream55 @thedeadlythoughts

[verytalented]

Do me a favor

Pairings: San x black reader

Series of short stories

Word count: 523

→ Summary; hard hours with San

Smut pwp

The two of you cuddle against each other on the sofa while watching a movie. It's been a while since the two of you relaxed. With his busy schedules and you as well, let's just say you were a little bit needy for his touch.

So you began to run your fingers through his hair slowly messaging his scalp. "mmhn... y/n" he groaned slightly. A smile slightly tugged at your lips as you slowly began to love the sounds he was making completely forgetting about the movie in general. Your other hand slips down to his cover dick. You start to press down on his sensitive area as a moan slips past his lips. You feel him getting hard. Before he can look down at what you're doing you tug at his hair keeping his eyes focused on the the screen. "Who said you could look at what I'm doing to you hmm?" you question him, you can hear his breathing quicken. "No one m-mistress" You smiled "Good. Now do me a favor and be a good boy." He nodded his head yes and bit his bottom lip. "Miss, can you please touch me for real, I wanna feel you"

"I don't know if you deserve to feel me. How 'bout you beg for it." You can see the desire in his eyes as he bucks his hips up and your hand trying to get any type of friction between his legs. "fuck Please I've been so good for you. I'll fuck you so hard, please mistress" he pled. You couldn't help yourself you got on your knees and pulled his pants down. He was only left with his dick hitting his belly. The sight was eye candy. As he hiss at the coldness of the air hitting his dick. You can see how hard he was as precum leaked from the tip of his dick. You lick the tip of his dick while holding eye contact with him. His breath hitch slightly with the sudden sensation from your tongue. You engulf his dick down and swirled your tongue at the tip and licking up all of his precum. “Omg mistress… it feels so… fuck” just hearing him try his hardest trying to form words just was turn on itself.

He grip the sides of the sofa with fingers nails making scratches on sofa. You began to message his balls and this sent him over the edge. “If you keep at it im g-gonna cum” he said in a shaky voice. You continued the same actions with your mouth swallowing him whole. He through his head back and moaned loudly. He bucked his hips into your mouth and hot cum shot down your throat. You gladly swallow all of it.

You left your mouth off his dick with a poping sound. His body went limp and his breathing slowed “damn I wasn’t expecting that” San let out in a huff.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for the longest” you said. You can see blush come across his face. “Can I… um. Fuck you now mistress” San said to you with lustful eyes.

Not edited

Like and reblog

MasterList

A/N: dude it’s been so long since I’ve written something I low-key feel like Coryxkenshin leaving for 9 months and then come back with a banger. Anyways I hope you guys enjoy this I don’t know when I’m coming back with something else.

[shiny-jr]

hiiii!! I recently got into quotev to read your most recent release, "how to steal a heart," and was curious if u have any recs for other yandere quotev fics? :o or just any quotev fics in general!! ^_^

feel free to disregard this question tho if u don't have any recs or simply don't want to answer!

Thank you, anon! I'm glad people seem to be liking that story so far. I'm hoping that I can find the time to write for it soon. Hopefully. Anyways, as for recommendations. That's a difficult request for me to answer for two reasons. One: I rarely have the time to read, and when I do read these days its physical books. And two: I'm terribly picky so if I don't like something about a fic its automatically out.

But, I managed to fish out a couple of things from my library that I finished reading ages ago. However, keep in mind, I meant what I said when I say that it has been a long time since I read these fics. So they may not be as good as I remember, or I may get some things wrong. Keep that in mind. Also, these are all yandere x reader stories.

Infectious Intent by Darkened Warrior. I remember when I first discovered this story, I stayed up reading it. I stayed up late, and legit got kinda scared because imagining certain scenes in this story and reading the details gave me the chills and was just not a good idea to read it while it was pitch black and the dead of night. Even the ending got me.

the martyrdom of a final girl by MAI. This is one of the more recent stories I've put in my library, and by recent I mean it's probably been there for almost a year now. I haven't caught up with the updates, but I remember the story really gave kinda protagonist and friend group in the 80's-90's sort of horror vibe to it. Although I don't remember if it got to the yandere yet. It really hooks you in with action that starts fairly quickly which I very much value when starting a new story.

Humorously Inconvenient Tragedies by riz. In all stories, I very much value action. If there's not action in the first few chapters, I usually toss the story out. However, this story managed to be the sole exception to that. I think it's the written tension that managed to keep me hooked. Like the questions of why and how, along with the tension between characters that keep me intrigued.

Bonus: Shameless plug for How To Steal A Heart because damn it if people won't write Latino yanderes then I gotta do it myself. Also because its a vital part in the whole oc lore I have which has been obscure up until very recently.

[yanderepuck]

Believe it or not this started as Theo..and now we are here. Don't ask how that thought process went because I couldn't tell you.

BUT ITS BEEN A HOT MINUTE SINCE IVE WRITTEN WILL. Miss my husband. I've been thinking about this for 3 days at this point so here you go. This is literally porn with no plot. I didn't want to deal with figuring out how you got in the situation. You're just there.

A set of your fingers digs into his shoulder while the other set digs into the thigh next to you. Your body is resting on one leg of his as he sits on the edge of his bed. You hold on as you rock your hips against him, his fingers inside you.

Will's free hand holds your waist. Small whimpers and moans come from your lips before letting out a sharp yelp when he spreads his fingers apart, trying to stretch you more.

You don't slow down, if anything you get more desperate. You try to pull him closer and kiss him roughly. You could still taste your blood on his lips. You kiss rougher and rougher. Surely your lips would get bruised.

Will manages to wiggle his fingers even deeper, getting you to squirm. His free hand rips your open blouse from your body, running his hands over your skin, feeling you up before his fingers wrap around your neck, tearing you away from him.

"Show me how badly thee wanteth me."

He grins at you, his calm eyes locked with your desperate ones. He was enjoying this show far too much. That damn lustful voice of his could get you to do anything.

Rather than just rocking your body, you lift your hips up and come back down. Your moans get louder with the sensation.

"Good girl," his hand goes down your body again, squeezing you around the waist.

Just as you are about to come down on his fingers again, he meets you in the middle. Your nails dig into him. He holds you in place and starts to finger you.

His fingers thrust in and out, making your knees buckle.

"Ahh-hh!" You bite your lip and try standing on your toes. You try to close your legs but then his fingers stay deep in you.

His fingers curl like they are hooking onto you, and brings your body closer. You look down at him, panting and whining.

"Keep wiggling and I am tying thee to the bed."

You try to catch your breath and nod.

"Actually," he smiles at you and pulls you down into the bed anyway. His fingers finally leave your aching hole. You were grinding on him for far too long.

You look up and watch him quickly discard his clothes to the floor. His hair comes undone as he pulls his shirt off. Not bothering to fix it, he gets between your legs, quickly grabbing hold of your hands to hold them into the bed

His hair falls loose along the sides of his face, the ends brushing against your cheeks.

"Will.." you moan and buck your hips up. "Please.. Please stop teasing."

"Tis so fun to watch thee squirm."

He starts to kiss your neck around the area that he bit you. You wince at the slight pain, making him kiss you there again and again.

The tip of his precum soaked cock presses against your opening. Teasing you with how close he is.

He nibbles your ear. "Too bad we hath broken the cuffs last time. I have not hadst time to get a new pair."

"Maybe you shouldn't be so rough then," as if you don't constantly push him to be rough with you.

"Mayhaps thee stay still," he starts to whisper in your ear. "Thee want to be mine own toy but fail to realize toys moveth not."

His tip finally enters you. He moves slowly wanting to take in the look on your face. You take in a sharp breath as the rest of him fills you up, going past the point of where his fingers reached.

His first few thrusts start out painfully slow.

"W-Will. Please just fuck me!"

"Tis what I like to hear," his voice is soothing, almost relaxing. Then he thrusts into you much harder, jerking your body forward.

"Ahh!" One of your legs wraps around his waist.

Your fingers interlock with his, your nails digging into the back of his hand as he gets rougher. He barely seems to notice.

"Thou are still so tight after fucking mine own fingers for so long."

Your walls clenched around him, wanting to keep yourself filled with his cock.

Hearing his moans only gets you wetter. You try to pull your hands freed from him, not because you want him to let go, but because you want him to grip you tighter.

He moves both of your hands above your head. Using one hand he holds you down, pushing you into the bed, some of your hair being pulled in the process. His other hand grabs your jaw to keep you still for him to kiss you.

You squirm against him, not because you don't want it, you want it so badly, you want all of your body to be touched at once. To have his hands everywhere but also pushing you into the bed.

Once your lips are locked his hand grabs your breast, squeezing tightly before pinching your nipple.

You yell into his mouth, your back arching, your torso trying to squirm away from his touch. This only made him rougher.

Your hips buck as he is thrusting into you. You yell again and try keeping your hips where there are. You're so close. Just a little more. You tighten around him. He moans and his grip on you tightens.

But just before you feel yourself getting to finish he stops. He didn't cum either. You whine and he sits up, looking down at your reddened face.

"W-Will!" You try moving your own hips but it's not the same.

"Do thee think thee deserves it?"

"Yes! Please Will!" You beg and try to spread your legs wider. "P-please fill me. I-I'm your toy, r-remember?"

He lets your hands go and sits up. You keep your hands where they are to keep yourself open and vulnerable.

"Thee are adorable when thee beg," his hands slide down your skin, stopping at your hips. He never takes his eyes off you. "What are thee?"

"Y-your toy."

"Good girl," he pushes your hips into the bed before thrusting roughly into you.

Your toes curl and your nails dig into the palms of your own hands.

Will's hips keep snapping into yours. Now that he's sitting up you try to get a good look at his naked body. You try to see his cock disappearing into your hole. Strands of his hair stick to his face but he stays holding onto you.

"Ahh-hh f-fuck!" You yell loudly as you finally manage to reach your climax, slicking up your hole even more.

Will doesn't slow down, he might have even got faster. You feel your body start to squirm again and try fighting it. You dig your fingers into the sheets under you, bracing yourself. In moments a hot load of cum fills you.

Your body jerks slightly but you keep as still as you can until he's pulled out.

You both pant, feeling warm. Will lays down beside you, waiting a moment before pulling you to his body. Your eyes close and try to relax.

~~

Tag list~

@kissmetwicekissmedeadly @fang-and-feather @xalxtusxiao @namine-somebodies-nobody @ana-thedaydreamer @evil-quartett @ameyoruakiikemenseries @yrenesposts @tele86 @damekathearasi @lokis-laugh @candied-boys @breadmercury @aquagirl1978 @xenokiryu @nightghoul381 @vampiricpancake @lulu-the-smol-floof @tako-cafe @floydsteeth

[starrytowonder]

Success Stories ʕ⁠´⁠•⁠ᴥ⁠•⁠`⁠ʔ

✯¸.•´¨•✿ ✿•¨`•.¸✯✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿✯¸.•´¨•✿ ✿•¨`•.¸✯

✯¸.•´¨•✿ ✿•¨`•.¸✯✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿✯¸.•´¨•✿ ✿•¨`•.¸✯

My posts on success stories seem to do well anyways, so here's so more to help motivate you. :')

Revising that my dog didn't run away: this one is more of a tear jerker. So I have a little Pomeranian dog, and for the time being he was being kept outside because we were doing house remodeling that had wood dust and other chemicals in the air that would be bad for him- so I thought keeping him outside would be safe. My dad decided to let him out of his closed area, and for a while my dog was just having fun running around! I decided to take a nap and just relax for the day since I had to do some writing earlier lol. Anyways, after I woke up, it was already late and around 6-7 pm, my dad walks in and he goes "is the dog in here?" while bursting in my room, and I said "no." and he just kinda scrambled off. My gut feeling just KNEW something was up, and I felt like shit for a good few seconds. I decided to try revising in case of the worst case scenario happening - having some more context, our house is literally next to a busy open street, if our dog got loose the chances of him being run over were extremely high. So anyways, after I "revised" (i simply stated "i have nothing to worry about, my dog is safe and in his house that he has outside), I just persisted. Throughout the day my parents and sisters avoided talking about my "missing" dog because they knew if I heard that he was gone, id have a meltdown. However they are not good at whispering or keeping secrets, so whenever i overheard them talking I would just affirm and remained calm. At around 10pm, my sister comes in my room annoyed ASF and this was the interaction:

Sis: do you know what just happened?

Me: Huh?

Sis: Oh...sorry we didn't tell you, *recaps what I just said*.

Me: the dogs missing?!

Sis: no, my dad went to go check in the dogs house and he was in there! He was inside of a hole where there were light cables ...blah blah blah.

So in conclusion for this story: by persisting that my dog never escaped and was in his house the whole time, he was. Simple.

✯¸.•´¨•✿ ✿•¨`•.¸✯✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿✯¸.•´¨•✿ ✿•¨`•.¸✯

✯¸.•´¨•✿ ✿•¨`•.¸✯✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿✯¸.•´¨•✿ ✿•¨`•.¸✯

Having desired fanfictions written: this is more of a funny one that I do but just noticed that I do it. Whenever I join a fandom and absolutely drool over a character, i always want specific fanfictions written for them that don't exist when I join the fandom. So I'm always like "damn it'd be nice to have a fanfiction that does x" and then usually a few hours later a fanfiction with EXACTLY what I wanted is posted. Granted - they sometimes aren't written that well but regardless...they exist 😏🤞

✯¸.•´¨•✿ ✿•¨`•.¸✯✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿✯¸.•´¨•✿ ✿•¨`•.¸✯

✯¸.•´¨•✿ ✿•¨`•.¸✯✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿✯¸.•´¨•✿ ✿•¨`•.¸✯

Remember how I was struggling with feeling pretty? I started using Slade's Incarnated sub to help. For the first few nights I looped that bad boy on repeat all night, and yeah the results were great! My acne faded and I lost tummy fat, and overall I felt so much prettier. For extra context I had some meltdowns before this (three to be exact) where I looked at myself in the mirror and burst into tears because I felt ugly. Now, after reading Slade's description for the sub, I realized that one of the benefits was sorta listed like: this sub works by also you not needing to overused it- which made me stop using it completely for one night. That night that I stopped using it, I woke up with some of the clearest skin I've had in a while and also longer lashes blah blah blah... basically how Slade said the sub would work. It's been a few days where I've done this and I've noticed that the results from the sub seem to be multiplying very well, I've started to feel even better by the day about how I feel and I know what I wanna look like etc. etc. I also used to have an awful neck hump cus of my shitty posture, and now it's basically gone!! My back so smooth now and my posture is also getting better lol dw.

All in all, ive gotten prettier both internally and externally, and i am so happy about it!

✯¸.•´¨•✿ ✿•¨`•.¸✯✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿✯¸.•´¨•✿ ✿•¨`•.¸✯

[edelfan]

Trigger warning: suicide attempt

I'm sorry for this. I'm going through a rough time myself and this just wanted to be written.

It was way past midnight and the hallways of the Naval hospital were deserted except for the night nurse who kept making her turns. One room though was filled with people, all gathered around the pale figure lying in the bed and being kept alive by the countless machines he was connected to.

I'm sorry that it has come to this, but then it's not like you guys are gonna miss me anyway.

Admiral Kazansky had used the power of his rank as COMPACFLT to make sure that they could stay with him 24/7 - especially after learning that there was no family or other next of kin to be called.

My father was right. I'm not good for anything, not even when I brought home straight As, not even when I get those meaningless medals.

The room was small. The only two chairs available were occupied by Phoenix and Rooster. The rest of the Daggers were lined up along the walls, Bob having a supporting hand on Phoenix's shoulder. Maverick was standing at the foot of the bed, leaning on the rails as if it was the only thing keeping him upright.

I know I've been an asshole most of the time. It's the only way I managed to survive for this long. Don't show weakness, don't let them come close because you'll only be hurt in the end.

"Anybody, but him... I mean if I'd only known how he really felt," Phoenix mumbled, clumsily wiping at the tears that kept coming. Without saying a word, Bob wrapped her in a hug from behind.

Maverick was right in not choosing me. Rooster was right when he said that I lead people to an early grave. Funny that in the end it seems to be my own.

"The doctors said that the next 72 hours are critical. He needs to start breathing on his own or else..." Maverick sighed, laying his hand on the blanket over Jake's legs in hopes that the young man could feel that he wasn't alone. "Damn it, kid. Not like this, you hear me, son?"

I really thought that I had proofed myself by saving Maverick and Rooster. I had really hoped that I found a squadron, in which I am not the one on the sidelines. I had hoped that maybe we could be friends...

For a long time there was silence in the room - except for the hissing ventilator and the beeping heart monitor.

But I keep fucking up. I keep running my mouth and I keep making the same mistakes over and over again.

"I shouldn't have said those things to him the other day. Hell, I know how it is up there... Fuck, Jake, I'm sorry." Fritz's voice was hoarse as he let himself slip down the wall, ending up in a heap on the floor.

Tell Javy that I am sorry. I'm just too tired.

Javy was standing by the window, looking out into the darkness. Ever since he had helped Rooster and the medics getting Jake into the ambulance, he hadn't said a word.

Tell Rooster Bradley that I am sorry. I am sorry for what I did the first time we met at Top Gun. I shouldn't have pressured you so much into... well, you know what I'm talking about. If only... who knows, we could have been quite the power couple, right? No matter what I said back then, I still love you... so much.

Bradley was a mess. He hadn't left Jake's side since breaking open the younger man's door and finding him on the floor. Sitting next to the bed, he held Jake's hand while also caressing his hair. Too many people had left him behind already, he wouldn't let Jake go, he couldn't let him go. "You damn idiot... Why didn't you say anything? I still fucking love you, too. You can't leave me, baby, please..."

See you on the other side.