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Part 2 of Onlyfans!Toji, here’s part one
Now it’s either a one shot or a long ass drabble you decide, I had too much inspiration for that one
Warnings: degradation and praise kink, mutual masturbation, masturbation, breeding kink, rough sex, mention of oral; reader receiving and giving
Onlyfans!Toji finally dm you, with a simple message that comes straight to the point. “Hey ma, just discovered you and ngl, I need a collab with you asap.” Toji being the cocky bastard that he is, knows that you’ll reply and accept the offer. You see his message, and at first, you think it might be a catfish or someone using an ai generated pic for the pfp, cause you’ve never seen anyone so hot in your life. You check his profile and ho-ly fuck. 2 million followers on Twitter, a handsome face, a buff body, and the biggest dick you’ve seen in your life? Goddamn now your pussy’s wet, how can someone be- hold on.
While you’re scrolling you see a video of Onlyfans!Toji fucking some other content creator and unconsciously, you start playing with your breast. The way he’s pushing her head down the pillow while his hips are slamming against hers, the way she’s moaning, the way he’s biting his lip and groaning while railing her? Fuck, you need that. You want that, badly. Usually, you don’t crave a content creator that much. Sure, you need to at least like his work to do a collab, but this is the first time you genuinely want another dude on OF to rearrange your insides. So you don’t waste any more time, you reply and accept the offer.
Onlyfans!Toji almost jumps on his phone when he sees the notification, and a big smile spreads on his face. He jumps on his bed and the two of you start texting. There are questions and answers regarding the collab, like the money matters, what the two of you like and dislike, boundaries, ideas for the video, your schedule, and most importantly, updated test results.
Onlyfans!Toji doesn’t know why he’s so excited and why he’s behaving like a 15 yo texting his crush. But he can’t wait to see you. You end up texting for hours, and eventually, you exchange numbers to FaceTime each other which quickly ends up in Toji stroking and hitting his dick on the phone, while you’re rubbing your wet brown pussy for him. You both don’t know what’s going on, and why you’re acting like this, but you can’t wait to finally meet each other
Eventually, it’s getting late and you tell him you’re going to sleep. Since Onlyfans!Toji is not tired yet, his mind is too focused on you, so he decides to make this paid request a fan asked for earlier that day. A $500 video of him jerking off while saying the fan’s name. He’s not the one who sets the price, the fan has money to waste, and who Onlyfans!Toji is to refuse such a good offer after all? The fan already paid, it was time for him to do his part now
Onlyfans!Toji removes his clothes, lays on his bed, grabs his phone, and starts recording. At first, it’s a lil intro to edge the fan, tell her whatever she wanna hear before the camera is now on his cock. He makes it twitch a bit and says how hard it is because of her which is a lie, he imagines the fan is you. He starts stroking himself, and says the name of the fan all while thinking about you, thinking about that FaceTime and the way your fat pussy lip wrapped around your two fingers as you rubbed your clit, the way you moaned his name in despair while begging him to fuck you. He groans and starts going faster “Fuuuuuuck mama… I wanna fuck you so bad shiiit…” As he keeps going, he starts dirty talking, imagining saying all those things to you, imagining doing all those things to you, and it takes everything in him to not say your name. His imagination is running wild now, he grabs his cock a bit too tight and hits the camera a bit too hard, a feral groan leaving his lips “Fuck… suck that fuuuucking dick you fucking bitch… Do you like that? Uh?” God knows what the fuck Onlyfans!Toji is imagining right now but one thing is for sure, he’s gonna do that to you.
After a few minutes Onlyfans!Toji cums all over his abs, groaning like an animal as he pictures your dick sucking lips around his tip, swallowing his semen. He’s panting, he can’t believe he felt so much pleasure from just using his hand “Damn [fan name], see what you made me do? Fuck, I’m dirty now because of you, but it was worth it. Thank you for making me feel good.” This is clearly not for the fan but whatever. He stops recording, sends the video to the girl on Onlyfans then gets cleaned up. You’re gonna be the death of him.
A week later it’s finally time to record this video. For once, Onlyfans!Toji wants his colleague to come to his place. He doesn’t know why, he doesn’t. Usually, he meets the other content creators at some hotel or their place but never at his own. It’s not like he lives in the slums, that Onlyfans money made him rich and he lives in a beautiful penthouse. He just knows how some of these content creators become clingy and/or possessive after getting fucked by him. He doesn’t need stalkers on top of that. But you? He has that weird desire to see you boneless on his bed, HIS. And maybe he’ll be able to keep you around for a few more rounds off camera, or on, who knows.
You finally arrive and Onlyfans!Toji finds you even more breathtaking in real life, and by the look on your face, you probably think the same thing about him. Before he loses it and jumps on you to take you right there and then, he chats a bit with you, he still wanna act like a civilized man and not like a caveman. He asks you if you need anything to eat or drink, if you’re okay if you’re ready, and if you have any safe words. Once it’s settled he brings you to his room, where a whole set next to the bed is ready for you. The tension is high in the room. You didn’t plan a scenario, you both decided to go with the flow. You don’t know why you’re so nervous when you’re used to it, after all, it’s your job, but the dark and hungry look in Onlyfans!Toji’s eyes make your heart race.
You are out of breath, you are overstimulated, and your slicked-back bun is a whole mess. You didn’t know recording a video with Onlyfans!Toji would leave you in that state. Well, you expected it, but still, you can’t believe it. This man is a monster in bed. He praised and degraded you, made you ride his face until you came at least twice. He made you suck his massive dick until you were a crying, drooling mess with a sore throat. He had you in full Nelson, missionary, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, backshots, the princess position, and now you can’t count how many times this man made you squirt. And he wasn’t done, cause he didn’t cum yet. This man has the stamina of a goddamn bull on steroids. Right now you’re in missionary again, your wrists pinned, your legs wrapped around his waist, moaning in a way you never thought you would as his cock keeps pocking your cervix.
With the way Onlyfans!Toji is panting and groaning, you can tell he’s getting close to cum “M-ma, fuck I’m close mama… goddamn fuck- your pussy feels so good… such a good girl for me…” he groans in your ear, which makes your clench tighter around him. You bite your lip, and you’re so fucked out that you tell him to cum inside you. “You sure ma? Want me to fill you up and get you pregnant? That’s what you want?” You’re on the pill so it’s safe but you’d lie if you didn’t find the idea fucking hot. You nod desperately “Yes please… cum in my pussy… knock me up baby..” you whimper, your voice almost gone from the way you moaned and screamed earlier. That’s when Onlyfans!Toji snaps. He growls, releases your wrists to wrap his buff arms around your body, and violates your insides as you scream for dear life. You scratch his back so deeply you might draw blood. “Goddamn fucking slut y/n take my cum…!” When he says your name you cry out as you have another orgasm, he follows you quickly after, growling so loudly it gives you goosebumps. You can feel the warm gooey texture filling your womb, the feeling is amazing. You both stay like this for a moment until he pulls out, his cum leaking from your abused hole. He’s tempted to fuck it back into you but you’re already boneless, so he grabs his phone and stops recording.
Onlyfans!Toji looks at you affectionately and caresses your cheek while admiring your state. “You were amazing y/n, such a good girl for me.” You can barely hear him, but his caress gives you some reassurance. Eventually, you doze off and he starts editing the video. After a while, he posts a sneak peek on his Twitter account. A 20-second video of him taking you in different positions while you’re screaming in pleasure. He writes a lil caption: “@Y/N might have been my best collab so far, ‘ma knows how to take a good dick😩😈 full video on OF real soon🍆💦” and then posts it. It doesn’t take long before he gets shitloads of reactions under the tweet, both from his fans and yours.
@mahito’sstankass: holy fuckkkk I wish I was y/n 😩😩
@y/n’sdirtydraws: fucking hot I’m already touching myself rn
@tojiA1dickrider: oh my god she takes it like a champ! Wish Toji fucked me like her🤤🤤
@dcktoobigforyou: goddamn that mf gets all the baddies im jealous right now
@gojo_right_ball: I need my bf to fuck me like toji or I might break up with him idc
@coochiehair: I need the full vid asap the chemistry is insaneeeeee🔥🔥
@y/n’sasscrack: ikr??? They were downright making love! I hope they make more videos
@tojifckmepls: omg I can tell they were both into it I need more!!! My pussy can’t take it!!!🤭🤣
Onlyfans!Toji chuckles and then looks at you, the comments were right, he felt it and he bets you felt it too. This won’t be your last video together, he’s sure of it.
You can tell I was fucking horny while writing some of these lmao hope you liked part 2🫶🏾
taglist: @midnightry @tojicvmslut @getoisinnocent @samoankpoper21 @remithenonbinaryrat
#jjk men#jjk smut#jjk toji#jujutsu kaisen toji#toji fushiguro#toji smut#jjk fanfic#jujutsu kaisen x black reader#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu toji#jujutsu sorcerer#jjk x black!fem reader#jjk x black reader#jjk x reader#jjk#jjk x you#toji x black y/n#toji x black reader#toji zenin#toji x you#toji x y/n#toji x reader
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bleeding blue | apocalypse au
part thirty-one —other parts
pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader words: 4.8k tags: death. blood and gore. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. enemies to lovers. SA and implication of child SA (very subtle). summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival. a/n: if anything regarding the abuse or suffering of children, or SA, triggers you do not read. I wanted to tell you so there are no surprises.
The world sharpens as your senses return, zeroing in on the empty, crumpled sheet where Blue had lain beside you. She’s gone. Your deadened limbs failed her. Guilt rises, choking your dry throat. When your hands can move, you grab the pillow, pressing it to your face. A few hot tears escape. It smells like her hair.
They took her.
She's gone—
A gentle voice speaks, and a hand settles on your shoulder. Only then do you notice your body trembling. You lift your face from the pillow, staring up at Nereida. Her lips move, but her words don’t reach you. Something stirs inside you, deep in your chest, clawing its way toward your mouth. When the door creaks open and Salome steps in with a tray of dinner, it finally bursts free—a roar of pure rage.
“I’ll fucking kill you if you don’t tell me where she is.”
Salome startles, nearly dropping the tray as you fling yourself at the bars.
“I-I understand you’re upset, and I’m sorry we had to subdue you again, but it was only—”
“I don’t give a fuck! Answer me! Where is she?”
Her knuckles whiten around the tray, eyes darting away. “The child has... her own job, as we all do.”
Your lip curls. “Are you brain-dead under that stupid veil? Why take her? She’s a child! Why not one of us?” You lean closer, voice breaking. “If you want me pregnant so badly, fine! Do it now! Just bring her back—bring her back!”
Salome blinks, unnerved, her composure slipping.
“If you’ve killed her,” you hiss, heat flooding your face, “I swear to God, I’ll kill myself—”
“No!” she interjects, stepping forward, wide-eyed. “Don’t speak like that, I beg you. She... She’s alive. For now.” Her voice drops, reverent. “But Maman has plans for her. You must understand—Maman knows the Lord’s will. It is not our—" her throat bobs with a swallow,"Our place to question her decisions.”
“Alive for now ?” you snap. “What plans does that bitch have for her?”
Salome hesitates. For the first time, she looks uncertain.
She opens her mouth, then closes it. “I can’t... I mustn’t say. In time, you’ll understand.” She lowers the tray onto the floor and nudges it closer, staying out of your reach. “Please. You must eat. It’s only food this time, I promise. And the tea is for your bodies—to prepare you. Maman insists you drink it all.”
“You really think we’re stupid enough to eat or drink anything you give us?”
Her voice dips into a whisper. “I fear I... I must insist. If you refuse... I’ll have to tell Maman. She’s chosen to keep the males you came with because they are healthy and strong. But if she hears of your disobedience...” Her voice falters, and she tucks her hands into her sleeves. “There needn’t be any unnecessary deaths.”
Unnecessary deaths.
The door clicks shut behind her when she leaves. You sink to your heels, spine against the bars, as Nereida reaches for the tray. Closing her eyes, a single tear escapes before she rubs her chest and exhales. With no choice, you both eat the braised beef and roasted carrots, though you bitterly imagine it tastes like the unseasoned squirrel meat you're used to.
The tea smells herbal and bitter. On your tongue, the taste makes you recoil.
"I think it's turmeric and parsley," Nereida says softly, taking another sip. "It's good for... regulating our cycles."
You stare into the mug, swirling the warm liquid inside. The urge to dump it on the floor flickers, but the risk of someone noticing holds you back. Instead, you take another sip, chasing it with food to mask the taste. Your thumb brushes the rim, finding a sharp chip in the ceramic. Pressing it deeper, the sting hums as a bead of blood wells up. You suck on it, brows furrowed, a half-formed plan taking shape. Without hesitation, you finish the tea and smash the mug on the floor, startling Nereida.
"Why did you—"
You gather the two biggest shards. "We have weapons now. Break yours when you're done."
"So what’s the plan? Stab her with it?" She shakes her head, frustration clear in her voice. "She’s dumb, but not dumb enough to get close enough for that—not after you just said you want to kill her."
"Well, it's something." Your lips tighten along with your hand on the sharp edges. "At least I’m trying to think of an idea instead of just—just praying my military husband comes to save me."
Her eyes flash with hurt. "I'm trying to think realistically instead of acting rash." She gestures to the broken pieces. "She just threatened to kill them if we do anything to upset this Maman person, and you go breaking the cup. You think they'll be happy about that?"
"I'll say it was an accident. I'm a clumsy female who just couldn't help myself."
"You're not thinking clearly, Twix. I know you're upset about Blue—"
“And you’re not?” you hiss. “We failed her. She’s just a kid, and we failed her. Who knows what they’re doing to her right now. We don’t have time to sit around waiting for Price. He’s not coming! Even if they don’t kill him now, you really think they won’t at some point? These people are insane.” Your voice drops lower. “They’re going to rape us, Nereida. Don’t you see that? They’ll wait for us to ovulate, then breed us like livestock to feed into their delusions. What happens when they find out you can’t have kids? You think they’ll keep you around? You think they’ll still ‘covet’ you?”
Moisture wells in her eyes, and she blinks. "I don't—I don't know. But what can we do? We can't reach her, and they won't open the cell without drugging us again. Even if we could get out, we can't handle everyone out there with just pieces of a broken mug." The tears spill quietly, and she stuffs her face in her hands. "You're right. I've always relied on him. I don’t know how to survive any other way."
Your face softens a little, and you breathe deeply to regain some composure. "I shouldn’t have said that. We’re both scared."
She whispers through the gaps in her shaking fingers. "I was never supposed to live like this."
You reach for her hands, holding them tight. "You were, or you wouldn’t still be here."
The words offer fragile solace despite how steady you force your voice to be.
The rest of the meal is in silence.
The helplessness in the room is suffocating, reminiscent of the week you spent alone in the woods, sleeping in trees and dreading the break of dawn. No—it’s worse than that. It feels more like when Ghost broke your bow and left you for dead, chewing on pine needles to soothe your empty stomach. Funny how this time there’s a delicious meal in front of you, and you’re swallowing it down only because you’re forced. You even have a real bed to slip into, a yielding pillow to rest your head on, yet the helplessness remains, unwavering.
"I'm sorry, Blue. I'm trying," you whisper, clutching the shards of ceramic and slipping them under the pillow.
You replay everything in your head: the lack of items in the room, the bolted cell door, and what Salome said— Maman has plans for her. The moon rises, and you remain awake, even as Nereida succumbs to fatigue. You force your eyes to keep scanning the dark surroundings, despite the lingering effects of the drugs threatening to pull you into sleep. There has to be something you're missing—maybe not in the room, but in Salome's words. What else did she say? You were so angry, you can hardly remember.
It feels like well past midnight when you hear a male voice outside the door and the shift of footsteps.
"Trois minutes, Hugo."
A low chuckle. "Trois minutes, c'est tout ce dont j'aurai besoin."
"N'oubliez pas de ne pas toucher. Et ne vous en vantez pas auprès des autres. La nouvelle se répandra et Maman ou Alexandre l'entendront."
The air shifts when the door parts. You launch up, inhaling sharply when a shadowy figure enters along with the faint scraping of boots. Salome? But broad shoulders give way to an unfamiliar man that steps into the sliver of moonlight, and panic sets in quickly.
Breathless, you rip the sheet from your body.
Nereida stirs. "Twix—?"
You rise to your bare feet, standing a meter from the bars as you take him in. A light smile plays at his lips, which might’ve seemed friendly if you weren't poorly covered by the barely-there slip dress. Unlike Salome, his face is exposed beneath the hood of his grey cloak. You make out a strong nose, ashen brows, and blonde hair. He looks to be in his thirties, much shorter than Ghost. He murmurs something in French beneath his breath that makes your hands clench, then reaches into a pocket in his cloak.
He retrieves three metal chains.
In his upheld hand, the dog tags quietly collide.
Your breath hitches as his eyes flick to yours, and the moonlight catches on the engraved names.
"I'm a friend of your friends," he greets coyly in a hushed, strong accent.
"John," Nereida whispers, ripping herself up from the bed.
The man nods, the subtle smirk tugging at the edges of his lips, but it fails to reach his eyes. They remain cold. "Yes. We've all grown rather acquainted."
"You've hurt them," you snap, grabbing Nereida's wrist and pulling her closer. "Cut the bullshit."
He wraps the chains tightly around his wrist before tucking them away, then looks at you in a way that leaves your mouth tasting like the dinner you just ate. "A female who bites. I will look forward to making you submit as a God-fearing woman should."
You clutch at the hem of the gown, terror whispering in the back of your mind from his words. Something feels wrong.
"Why are you here?" you ask measuredly. "I thought... it isn't the right time for us to... to get pregnant. I thought only women are allowed to see us right now."
"I've heard whispers of the new beautiful women God has gifted us," he says, his English choppy. "I wanted to see for myself. I've been... working hard to please the Lord, you see. Your friends are not so easily broken. Surely, in His eyes, I've earned just a glimpse."
Nereida tenses beside you.
You rear a snarl at him. "Where are they?"
He holds up a finger. "Ah, ah, pretty face. You will have to let me see more if you would like to know. I have just three minutes with you. Two now that we've been wasting time."
Cold sweat coats your palms as his request sinks in, and you glance at Nereida. "I'll do it," you whisper. "You can just... just look away."
"No," his growl interjects. "Both of you, or nothing."
Even in the dark, her face pales. But when he pulls the chains back out and waves them around harshly, her hands dart to the hem of the dress and she peels it up without the chance to rethink it. You follow in stride, teeth gritted, as you scoot a step away from her and do the same, feeling the chilled air brush sickeningly against your bare skin. You've done this before, yet this time you are wholly naked under the stranger's gaze, and your hair is not long enough to conceal your breasts.
When you hear him unbuckle his belt, you remove yourself from your body, mentally retreating to a far corner of the room to block out the horror.
"Tell us where they are," you press.
He chortles, breath catching when he grabs himself. "This land belonged to Maman's husband. It is a farm. New men we keep in the old slaughter house, by the barn, like the swine they are."
"And what about the girl," you interrupt urgently, "The young child who was with us. Why would Maman want to take her? Where else would she be keeping her?"
He grunts low. "I never said I'd answer about the girl, but if you touch yourself, I will consider it."
Your jaw clenches, teeth grinding. Nereida breaks, folding into herself and whispering, "I can't. I can't."
"I will," you whisper, your hand already sliding down your stomach, your eyes locking on his. "If I touch myself, will you tell me?"
His eyes narrow to where your hand dips unthinkingly between your thighs. You keep it there, doing what he wants, putting on the show that will make him talk. His shoulders ripple at the sight and audible groans bounce off the walls.
He clears his throat, voice rough. "I haven't heard nothing yet about the girl. But Maman says God’s punishing us... the land’s... sick. The wheat grows less and less. Only way to fix it—feed God's enforcers."
"His enforcers?" you question.
"The démons."
"The Greys," you whisper, confusion flickering before clarity dawns.
A flash of the vermin-filled chapel plays through your mind—the bites in the corpse—and your hand jerks away from your thighs. The horror clicks into place, slow and suffocating, until all the color drains from your face. Blue... Is she an offering? An offering to God, just like the one you saw. They think the Greys are His enforcers. They will feed her to them. The thought claws its way through your head, and you feel a fresh wave of cold horror crash over you.
"When?" you croak. "When would Maman— feed them?"
"God's wrath... started on the sixth day," he murmurs absently, eyes rolling back. "That’s when we seek His forgiveness."
With a final grunt, his body jerks, and the spill lands on the floor. Bile rises in your throat, but you can’t even register it as you watch him stuff himself back in his pants and smear the mess with the sole of his boot, muttering something under his breath. You snatch the dress from the floor and stuff it over your head, legs wobbly. Faintly, you hear him laugh quietly.
"I can only pray I'm deemed worthy come the next coupling season. And when that time comes, I will be sure to choose you."
B
Warm water kisses the back of her neck, and gentle fingers scrub soap through her hair. The woman bathing her hums softly, matching the rhythmic pulse in Blue's arm. As Blue closes her eyes, she tries to separate reality from nightmare, pressing two fingers into the clothed wound as if the pain will help her understand. She remembers the Greys coalesced in the old building, the chains used to restrain them, and the terror-blurred walk back to the small commune. After that, everything becomes hazy. She slept a little, she thinks. Was made to eat again. Then somehow, she ended up here, submerged in a wooden tub of lukewarm water, while a young woman quietly encourages her to dip her hair back to rinse.
"There. Time to dry off now."
There is the shuffling around as she fetches a towel. Blue crosses her arms over herself as she accepts it numbly, the air prickling her wet skin. Her feet land on cold tile floor as she dries off, the woman lingering beside the bathroom door with her head bowed. Blue feels like someone has strings coiled tightly around her limbs, puppeteering her.
"Put this on for now." A light smile is offered as the thin gown is placed in her palms. "Maman will have a much nicer dress for you to wear tomorrow."
A puppet string is tugged, making her nod. "Can you... can you look away please?"
The woman turns and stares at the back of the door while Blue drops the towel and changes.
Then she is taken back to the room she came from. The one she first woke up in, where the old woman's knitting needles still rest on the table. Morning light caresses the paintings on the walls, all oiled landscapes of land that looks similar to the one outside. The woman, whose name Blue thinks she mentioned to be Eloise, shuffles around the room, tidying things, before collecting the tray from breakfast. But when she glances back at Blue on her way out the door, her lips part in concern.
"You're bleeding."
Blue looks at the bandage on her arm, where red blood oozes in a trail, a bead dripping onto the floor from the tip of her finger. She frowns, confused, when Eloise sets the tray down to tend to the cut—as if they aren't the ones who caused it. As if the blood smearing her skin when she unwraps the cloth isn't the same blood they used to draw out the two Greys they brought back to the commune and locked up in a small shed.
"I know you're frightened," the young woman whispers, her voice carrying an understanding that feels deeper than anything Salome ever said. Behind the veil, her eyes flick up to meet Blue's. "I can only pray God's mercy makes it quick." She dabs Blue's arm gently and rewraps it with a fresh strip of cloth.
"You mean they are going to kill me, right?" Blue whispers distantly. "With the Greys from yesterday?"
A glint passes through the woman's eyes, and she lifts her hands. "Yes," she says quietly, then leaves the room.
Blue stands in the silence, eyes fixed on the drop of blood. She presses her heel into it, smearing it across the floor. Then, she moves. The fear she's carried since the old woman led her into the trees claws at her chest, but she swallows it. Trembling hands sweep over the room—checking the window, the locked door. The bed, the table, the paintings. Beneath the bed, only cobwebs.
A helpless croak escapes her lips as she collapses onto the bed, teeth clenched against the tears. Her father would never accept her giving up. Tomorrow they will kill her. She sits up, palms pressed to her forehead, knees drawn tight, dry sobs wracking her body. Through her tears, she notices the smear of blood from her heel left on the white linen. She flips over her foot and traces the dried blood with her finger, then digs her nail into the broken skin where the gravel road tore into her feet, seeking more pain—urging fresh blood to rise from the indent she leaves behind.
G
The last time Ghost was chained, he hadn’t known about the little girl who shared his blood—someone who truly needed him. Tommy was still alive then, of course, but he had his own family. If Ghost had succumbed to Roba’s torture, his brother and mother would have mourned briefly, held a small funeral, then moved on. The world would have forgotten his name. Part of him would have been pleased with that—but somehow, Simon Riley’s more stubborn side had survived.
That stubborn part of him refuses to close his eyes, not even for a second, because this time, he is fully aware of the girl who needs him.
With no windows to mark the time, Ghost can only gauge it by the man who beats him. The man alternates between striking him with a metal bar and taunting him with food and water, tossing them just out of reach so the smell can ignite pangs of hunger. There was once he showed up with an old woman, who clinically poked and prodded at Ghost's arms and abdomen, as if in approval. The longest absences of visitation likely indicate the man’s sleep, meaning two nights have passed since Ghost woke up here. His increasing difficulty in keeping his eyes open confirms it.
Even through swollen eyelids, visions invade the darkness—four faces merging, their screams echoing, sharp and pleading. First, his mother. Then Sara. As they turn to ash, the two other faces remain, their screams fading into buttery laughter. Water splashes his cheek as they play in a creek, then their lips fall silent, and their faces sink below the surface. He reaches for them but can only stare as their eyes drain of life. Still, they remain accusatory. Disappointed.
A slam of the door shatters the images.
"I think you will be pleased to hear the news I bring, Brit."
It must be morning. Ghost's gaze drops to the floor in persistent defiance, refusing to acknowledge him. His muscles loosen in preparation for the bar's routine assault, but a vein in his jowl ticks when he detects a new sound; the quiet slither of a whip against the concrete.
Without warning, it recoils and lashes out with a sharp crack. The sting spreads through every nerve-ending, and he feels a gush of hot blood from the newly opened wound. A quiet, strained grunt slips through his teeth, and his chin dips to his sternum as pain robs him of the ability to hold it up.
Casually, like a friend, the man hums, only his boots visible in Ghost's vision. "I saw them. They are well-kept, you should know, and they are indeed beautiful. A gift from God." The tail-end of the whip caresses Ghost's shoulders then slips to the floor soundlessly. "The child, though, I am disappointed to say she wasn't there."
Ghost stiffens.
His nostrils flare.
"Why wasn't she there?" he forces out.
"Ah. The child is yours, yes? The... fierce one was concerned for her as well." He bends, rubbing his jaw callously. "So concerned, in fact, that she was willing to show me more than I had even come for. Quite eager, too. Let me tell you what I told her—I know nothing of the plans for the girl. I can only guess, as you can, that they will not be pleasant."
"I will... kill... you," Ghost manages, his low voice thick with fury, each word a strained rasp through clenched teeth.
When his fingers twitch, weakly forming fists, the man pats his shoulder with a light laugh. "I will say, I am sorry you do not have a son, instead. Maman says daughters are the purest, most God-abiding of us all. With all due respect to her, this is where we disagree." He tilts Ghost's head back, locking eyes with him, his breath brushing against Ghost's face."They’re whores, all of them. Waiting to be bred. That's why the fierce one was dripping wet when she touched herself—"
In one swift motion, Ghost sinks his teeth into the first piece of flesh he can reach, tearing through skin. Blood fills his mouth, spilling between his teeth. The man jerks back, part of his cheek torn away, his eyes flashing with pure rage as he clutches the bleeding wound with his hand.
"You fucking, lowly swine." He spits out a mouthful of blood, then retracts the whip with a savage snarl. Another strike lands on Ghost's back—harder this time. Another follows. The blows come faster, until blood pools beneath his boots, and his eyes finally close no matter how much strength he tries to muster to keep them open.
T
The sixth day.
If the Sabbath is the seventh day, then the sixth day would be Friday. The outbreak began on a Friday; God's wrath.
You trace the wrinkles in the sheet, trying to count back to the last day you can remember—back when Blue still announced the dates from the calendar Ghost kept track of. You recall it was the 12th of April, weeks ago. But what day of the week was it? Frustration bubbles up as you tear at the sheet, the harsh reality sinking in: you don’t even know how many days have passed since then.
Morning breaks in washed-out hues, accompanied by the low call of a nearby dove.
Growing content with the regular feedings, your belly hums in anticipation against your will.
"Ask her what day it is when she comes for breakfast," you tell Nereida. "We need to find out when Friday is, and you... you're better at talking."
Luckily, Salome either doesn’t notice that one of the mugs is missing or is willing to keep the fragile peace by not mentioning it. Again, she lowers the tray at an unreachable distance and slides it over. She lingers for a few minutes this time as you nurse a bowl of fresh fruit and sour yogurt, more mindful of how it tastes. But you don't suspect they have a need to drug you this morning—not with Blue already taken.
Nereida manages a bit of small talk, flashing a friendly smile you envy her for. It's enough to get a few pieces of information from Salome—mostly useless. She's about six months along, Maman suspects. There are two other pregnant women, and three infants already born over the years. A few have died during harsher winters, including this past one. The land is sick, that man mentioned. With a flicker of sadness, Salome adds that she had a miscarriage, and for a moment, you almost feel sorry for her.
But when Nereida asks about the day, Salome tenses, wariness creeping into her eyes. "Well, I forget the name in English, but it is the fifth day following the Lord's day."
"Thursday, you mean?" you speak up for the first time since she walked in. "I mean, Saturday is the seventh day. So the fifth would be Thursday."
Salome nods. "Yes, Thursday. Jeudi."
Then tomorrow is Friday.
The weight threatens to crush you.
When she finally leaves, you fling the pillow off the bed and flip the mattress, screaming soundlessly into it.
"We have one fucking day, and I have no clue how to get out of here."
Survival hinges on not panicking. Panic makes you weak. But still, your fingers curl into your hair, tugging desperately, trying to silence the hysteria rising inside you. For a moment, a silent prayer takes hold in your mind, mimicking the ones you overheard from Nereida. You screw your eyes shut in a pathetic hope that maybe when you reopen them, Ghost will materialize with the key on the other side of the cell. When he doesn't, you grab the nearest shard from the mug you broke. Nereida tugs on your shoulder, trying to calm you down, but you furiously press it against your wrist.
It's the sight of blood, not the pain, that makes you freeze.
Suddenly, your panic smooths into a fresh memory.
"She panicked, didn't she?" you whisper, lifting the shard and gently thumbing the shallow cut you've created in its wake. "When I threatened to kill myself. Her eyes—they held fear. Fear for what?"
You turn to Nereida and swallow thickly.
"Fear of... fear of us dying," Nereida finishes slowly, a pinch in her forehead.
"Fear of what would happen to her if we died," you say. "She seemed... scared when she spoke of Maman. Of course she is. She's the one responsible for us right now. What would Maman do if she can't take care of the two new coveted women?"
You reach for the next largest piece and place it in Nereida's hand, tightly closing her fist over it.
"It might not work," she whispers, eyes darting across your face.
"It's the only idea I've got."
Over the next few hours, you smooth over the details in whispered exchanges. These are the only cards you have to play: the value of your bodies here and the power Maman holds. Nereida is uneasy at first but eventually grows convinced. Speaking through the plan helps soothe your nerves, keeping the walls from fully closing in. You remember that Salome usually arrives before the sun sets to bring dinner. So, when the window casts amber shadows across the walls, you suck in a breath, dig the shard into your wrist, and watch as blood spills onto the white linen.
“Three minutes, Hugo.” “Three minutes is all I’ll need.” "Remember not to touch. And don't brag about it to others. Word will spread and Maman or Alexander will hear it."
#simon ghost riley x you#simon riley x reader#ghost#simon ghost riley x reader#cod#simon ghost riley#zombie apocolypse au
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One Year
Thanos/Choi Su-bong x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 3.7k
Warnings: usual squid game stuff. blood and gore. injury. mentions of suicide. mentions of addiction. drugs. soft thanos. slight canon divergence.
Summary: After an argument about money and debts, Y/N left Thanos. A year later she meets him again in the games yet he does his best to ignore her. During the game of Mingle, Y/N gets thrown out of her room and Thanos comes to her rescue.
Squid Game Masterlist
“Are you being serious?” Y/N asked, sitting down on the chair in disbelief.
Su-bong paced in front of her exasperated. “It was meant to make us more money! You can’t blame me for trying.”
Y/N rolled her eyes. “I told you when you first told me about it that it was a stupid idea. Not only did you ignore me, but you invested more than you said you were going to. And not just your own money, you took some of mine too!”
Su-bong rolled his eyes and Y/N chuckled. How he could be annoyed with her was beyond her. “I can’t believe this. I really can’t.”
“I can do something,” Su-bong said, a hint of desperation in his tone that he was clearly trying to hide. “I can start writing songs again. I can–”
“Don’t lie to me or yourself,” Y/N snapped. “You have been saying that for the past year.”
Su-bong scoffed. “You try to do something like that again when you are turned into a laughing stock!”
“And who’s fault was that?” Y/N said. “I was the one who advised you to not take those pills before the performance and you did it anyway. You have no one to blame but yourself.”
“Aren’t you meant to be my girlfriend? Isn’t it your job to support me?” Su-bong questioned.
“I do support you, but I know when to draw the line,” Y/N replied. “I don’t support you basically gambling your entire life savings and mine all on what was clearly a scam from the start. I don’t support you going out every night getting high using pills you bought with my money. And as far as I know, you are supposed to support me too.”
“I do support you,” Su-bong defended, clearly offended.
“Give me one example where you supported me over the past year,” Y/N said. Su-bong remained silent, giving Y/N the answer she needed. “The fact that you can’t even name one explains it all,” Y/N said. “You weren’t there for me when I was fired from my job. When my father was sick. When I broke my leg and could barely get around.”
“I can support you,” Su-bong said, grasping Y/N’s hands. “I can get us money. I can get it back–”
“No,” Y/N said and pulled her hands from his. Despite how she felt in the situation, she couldn’t help but miss the warmth of them. But she knew that what she was about to do was the right decision for her. “I can’t do this anymore. Not only did you continuously lie to me, but you stole money from me dragging me down with you.”
“Y/N, please,” Su-bong begged. “Don’t do this.”
Y/N pressed her lips into a thin line. There was a time when they had had this conversation before. Then she had stayed and Y/N was coming to realise that it was a stupid decision. Despite it all, she did still love him. But she couldn’t forgive him–not this time. “Are you begging me only because you have nowhere else to go or because you still love me?”
There was a brief moment of hesitation. It was at most a few seconds but those few seconds were arguably the most important. “Of course I love you!”
Slowly, Y/N nodded. “I see.”
“Y/N, please,” Su-bong begged. “I’ll get a job. Fuck, I’ll get two jobs. I can fix this.”
“You are over one billion won in debt!” Y/N exclaimed. “Do you really think a few shitty jobs are going to fix that anytime soon? At least my job pays a decent wage but it is still nowhere near to pay off my own debts which you forced me into. No, I’m done this time,” Y/N said, keeping a steady tone despite the way she wanted to cry out and forgive him instantly. “Please leave. I’ll have your things sent to you.”
“You can’t kick me out!” Su-bong exclaimed.
“You don’t rent this apartment, I do,” Y/N said, avoiding his gaze. “Please leave Su-bong. You’re making this harder than it needs to be.”
He scoffed. “I can’t believe I ever loved you.”
Y/N’s gaze remained fixated on the table before her until his footsteps grew distant and the front door was opened and slammed shut, plummeting the apartment into silence. The moment she knew she was actually alone, Y/N allowed the tears to flow. She knew that this decision was for the best, after all their relationship over the past year had been far from a whirlwind romance. Y/N couldn’t remember the last time they had even slept in the same bed.
But somehow she already had the urge to run out and tell him to come back and that they could work everything out together. Y/N’s hands gripped the arms of the chair, grounding herself. She couldn’t do that. Leaving him was for the best– even if she didn’t believe it just yet.
***
The platform began to move, the number of players in the room was considerably less compared to the first round. She was standing on her own as she looked at the puddles of blood on the floor. There had yet to be someone Y/N had become allies with, the group she was with for the pentathlon were already a small alliance of four and she only joined them because they needed a fifth person. Everyone else already seemed to have their own group apart from her.
It wasn’t that Y/N hadn’t tried. The moment she had seen her ex-boyfriend run up to that voting button and confidently chose to continue the game, she had tried her best to speak with him. Despite the fact that she was the one who broke up with him, it was nice and comforting to see a familiar face, even if that familiar face was high out of his mind every single time she tried to speak with him.
Four different times Y/N had tried to speak to Su-bong and each time he wouldn’t give her the time of day. It irritated her more than she cared to admit though deep down she couldn’t blame him. After all she was the one who had kicked him out.
She glanced at him from across the platform and noticed him already staring at her. Upon noticing this, he quickly looked away from her. If she made it through this round, she would make him speak to her whether he wanted to or not.
“Two players,” the voice called out.
There was no hesitation as Y/N grabbed the person closest to her and began to drag them to the yellow room right before her eyes. The round was carnage as people pushed and shoved and fought each other to get to a room in time. There were 126 players left, only 100 would be able to make it through the round.
Just as the person she dragged opened the door, Y/N spared a glace in the direction Su-bong ran and found him and Player 124 dragging people out of the way of the door before running into it themselves. Y/N turned back to her room and slammed the door behind her just as Su-bong looked in her direction before he slammed his door closed.
Once the door was closed, Y/N allowed herself to breathe and finally relax for a moment. She looked at the person she had dragged. “Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you when I dragged you, did I?”
Before the woman could even muster a response, the door was forcibly pushed open and a firm grip squeezed Y/N’s arm, pulling her out of the room as an older man forced his way inside.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Y/N yelled, kicking and hitting the man as he tried to push her out of the room.
“I’m not dying today!” the man hissed.
Y/N pulled her arm from the man’s grasp and before he knew it, a fist was flying at her face, her vision blurring immediately. A force pushed Y/N outside of the room and she fell to the floor.
“Fuck you!” Y/N yelled at the man inside.
Y/N glanced around at the clock and panic instantly rose within her. There were ten seconds left on the countdown and all hope left her body. There was no possible way she was going to find a partner and a room in time. Y/N slowly stood to her feet, already accepting her fate.
There were a few people still on the platform either hurt from someone or accepting their fate. Others were still trying to force their way inside rooms and fight for them. Slowly, Y/N closed her eyes. At least in her final moments she wouldn’t have to see the carnage surrounding her.
Before Y/N knew it, she was quite literally swept off her feet. Her eyes opened and immediately recognised the mop of purple hair and she let out a small noise of surprise. Without a moment of hesitation, Su-bong ran into a blue room and slammed the door behind him just as the door locked, breathing heavily.
As the gunshots sounded out, his grip tightened on her as he slumped down to the floor, Y/N still in his arms.
“Su-bong?” Y/N muttered, still in disbelief that he had saved her. She stood from his hold and shakily got to her feet.
“Why were you just standing there?” Su-bong asked, raising his voice. “Do you want to die?”
“I was thrown out of the room,” Y/N said. “There wasn’t enough time to find someone else and find a room.”
Su-bong stood to his feet, his eyes wide. “Why wouldn’t you at least try?”
“Why would you care?” Y/N said. “Evidently from the way you have refused to even speak to me here, you wouldn’t care whether I lived or died.”
“Of course I care!” he exclaimed.
“Then why haven’t you spoken to me since we’ve been here?” Y/N questioned. “I have tried so many times to speak with you, thankful to see a familiar face, and you have shut me down every single time! Is it about the drugs you’ve been taking? I know that I don’t like it when you take them but honestly right now I don’t care. All I have wanted to do is speak with you.”
Su-bong scoffed. “Now you want to speak to me? What about the past year? You never wanted to speak to me when I reached out.”
“The circumstances were different and you know it,” Y/N snapped.
“How?” He asked. “I’m just doing exactly what you’ve been doing to me.”
Y/N sighed, forcing herself not to roll her eyes. “For once, imagine being in my place. Imagine supporting your partner for a year after their career took a plummet, you start paying for everything. Food, clothes, sometimes even their drugs when they begged you.”
At that statement, Su-bong glanced down at the necklace hanging from his neck.
“Then you find out that they had an amazing idea to invest in crypto that turned out to be a scam,” Y/N continued. “Not only did they stupidly invest their entire life savings, but then you find out that they have been taking small amounts of money from your account too. Now leaving themselves in debt as well as you. In between all of this, imagine them going out early in the morning and either returning high out of their mind where you need to stay up and take care of them all night or they don’t return at all and you spend the whole night worried about where they are and if they are even alive.”
Y/N took a step closer to Su-bong. “Imagine if our positions were switched. You wouldn’t want to speak to me again either. But you have no idea how hard it was for me, because despite it all– somehow I still loved you. You fucked me over and I still loved you.” A shaky breath left Y/N. “So, I’m sorry if I didn’t want to talk to you. I’m sorry if I ignored you for a year. I’m sorry I couldn’t do more to help you, but I needed to put myself first for once.”
The silence in the room was deafening. The gunshots had ceased and the guards were clearing up the bodies. The numbers who hadn’t made it sounded through the speaker but Y/N didn’t listen as she only stared at Su-bong who hadn’t met her eyes the whole time she spoke.
Slowly she took another step towards him and brought her hand up and placed it under his chin and forced him to meet her eyes. “You always did have trouble making eye contact when we were having a serious conversation.” His pupils were blown wide from the pill Y/N had watched him take before the game. “Why did you save me?”
Su-bond blinked once, then twice as if he was confused by the question. “What?”
“I watched you run into a room with your friend, pulling people out of the way for it. You were safe. Why did you risk your life to save me?” Y/N asked.
“You were watching me? Señorita, I’m touched,” Su-bong said, his tone flirtatious. Y/N knew this behaviour all too well, sometimes she used to fall for it.
Y/N frowned. “Be serious for a minute. I don’t want you to be ‘Thanos’. I want you to be Su-bong. My Su-bong.”
Surprise seemed to fill his eyes and he seemed to unconsciously lean into her touch as his eyes flicked to the side. “I watched you run into a room, I thought you were safe so I entered a room. When I looked out and saw you were standing outside, I ran out without thinking.”
“Did you know that there was a room available?” Y/N questioned.
If possible, the room became quieter. “Why did you do it?”
“I couldn’t leave you out there,” he admitted. “I couldn’t leave you to die.”
“But you could have died in the process?” Y/N questioned. “How stupid could you be?”
Su-bong’s eyes met Y/N’s once more. His pupils were still dilated but Y/N could see his true emotions shining through clear as day. Vulnerability.
“Do you know where I was when that man in a suit offered me that card?” Su-bong said, his voice strangely quiet. “I was on a bridge ready to jump and take my life. So I don’t care if I die in these games. But if you died, I couldn’t handle that. When I ran out, I thought that we would either both live or we would both die.”
Su-bong’s hands slowly moved until they held onto Y/N’s waist. The feeling of it so familiar but so foreign. “I tried to convince myself that I didn’t care about you, that if you died, I wouldn’t feel anything. I tried to convince myself that I was angry at you for turning your back on me. But when I saw you standing outside that room prepared to die, I realised that none of that was true. I still love you, baby. Even though I’m pissed that you joined these games.”
“It’s not like I had any choice,” Y/N shrugged as she cupped his face gently, her eyes stinging.
Su-bong glanced down guiltily. “I’m sorry.”
“I know,” Y/N said, her thumb brushing along his cheekbone. “Someone who wasn’t sorry wouldn’t risk their life to save their ex-girlfriend who kicked them out with nowhere to go”
A huff of a laugh left Su-bong as he dipped his head down resting his forehead against Y/N’s. “Looking back, I can’t blame you.”
Y/N’s eyes closed as she savoured the feeling of his closeness. If she imagined hard enough, she could pretend that they weren’t trapped in a series of deathly games. They would be in her apartment, her doing her own work while Su-bong worked on a new song, happily sitting side by side. Just how it was for four years before his career blew up and things spiralled from there.
“Vote to leave,” Y/N whispered. “We can get out of here and we can work things out. I know that you said that you…don’t care if you die in these games, but I don’t want to watch that. If we vote to leave, we can pay off our debts together and work things out between us– properly this time.”
Suddenly a warm pressure captured Y/N’s lips. The feeling was one she had missed. Her body fell into his as she wrapped her arms around Su-bong’s neck as she deepened the kiss. His arms wrapped around her waist before he turned their bodies until her back was pressed against the wall.
Y/N pulled away and allowed herself to look into Su-bong’s eyes for a brief moment before she leaned in once more. The kiss held a hint of desperation behind it, as if one of the guards would enter the room and gun them down that very second. Su-bong’s hands slid from her waist to her hips, giving them an experimental squeeze.
A content sigh left Y/N as she threaded her fingers in his hair and Su-bong smiled into the kiss. He pulled away, breath mixing with hers. “Jump, señorita,” he muttered.
“I always hated you calling me that,” Y/N mumbled against his lips.
“You loved it,” Su-bong replied as he picked her up and her legs immediately wrapped around him as he deepened the kiss.
It wasn’t until now when Y/N realised how much she had missed him and how perfectly they fit together. It had been a year since he had last touched her this way and it was as if no time had passed.
“I missed this,” he muttered, lips attaching to her jaw before peppering soft kisses down the side of her neck.
“Me too,” Y/N sighed, tilting her head back as she savoured the feeling of his lips on her skin. She could only wish that they were in her apartment, gradually making their way towards the bed.
Instead Y/N was brought back to her harsh reality.
“Attention players, the game is now over.”
The door clicked and unlocked and Su-bong reluctantly detached his lips from Y/N’s neck. They stared at one another breathlessly. Y/N’s legs were still wrapped around his hips and her fingers were tangled in his hair– only messing the strands up even more.
Slowly, Su-bong set her back on her feet, hands slipping up her body to her waist. The footsteps of the other players broke the two from the daze they were in as Su-bong slowly stepped back, allowing Y/N space to step away from the wall.
“We can get out of here together,” Y/N whispered as she slipped her hand in Su-bong’s. “Please vote to leave.”
The door was opened and a guard stood in the threshold, gun clutched in their hands unafraid to use it. Y/N and Su-bong slowly stepped out of the room and joined all of the other players as they exited the game. Neither of them spoke though their hands remained clutching one another tightly.
“Thanos!” Player 124 said as he nudged Su-bong’s shoulder. “What was that for? If it weren’t for those pricks outside the room, I’d be dead.”
“You’re alive aren’t you?” Su-bong said the tone of his voice shifting to something more distant. A tone he never spoke to Y/N in. A tone that she knew was purely for other people.
Player 124 glanced at Y/N and his eyes trailed down to where her hand was linked with Su-bong’s before his eyes fixated on the red patch stuck to her jacket. A quiet huff of acknowledgement slipped past his lips. “I hope this bitch won’t make you change your mind about playing one more game.”
Su-bong’s head whipped around fast to face Player 124. “Don’t fucking call her that, man.”
Player 124 laughed. “Whatever you say. But remember. One more game.” He slipped back into the crowd of people– significantly smaller than when they had first entered.
“You need to make better friends,” Y/N commented watching Player 124 leave with distaste.
“And you need to make friends,” Su-bong defended as he pulled Y/N along with the rest of the crowd. “I’ve seen you sadly standing around on your own since we’ve been here.”
“Sorry for not wanting to get attached to anyone in a place where I could die,” Y/N replied.
Su-bong huffed a laugh and squeezed her hand. “You have me now.”
“Only until the vote?” Y/N asked, her heart dropping slightly.
There was a brief moment of hesitation as he glanced down at the blue patch on his jacket. After a while he slowly nodded and Y/N let out a soft sigh of relief.
“Only if you promise to not kick me out again,” Su-bong muttered as he threw his arm around Y/N’s shoulders, keeping her pressed to his side.
“I promise,” Y/N replied as he pressed a kiss against the top of her head. “Only if you promise to work things out between us.” Y/N glanced at his necklace. “That includes your addiction. I know it will be hard, but I will be with you every step of the way.”
Su-bong looked at the cross necklace hanging from his neck and let out a long sigh. “Okay, señorita. You have a deal.”
“I told you not to call me that,” Y/N muttered.
“I know that you love it,” Su-bong said. “You always did. Especially when I–”
“Let’s leave that talk for when we are out of this hellhole,” Y/N said, lightly shoving him away from her.
A quiet laugh left Su-bong as Y/N looked up at him, a small spark in his eye shone brightly. It was the first time she had seen it in years. Y/N’s lips twitched up as she savoured his touch, hope filling her heart for the first time she had woken up in this god-forsaken place. Y/N linked their fingers together once more as they walked through the colourful staircase for what would hopefully be the final time.
#squid game#squid game x reader#choi su bong#thanos x reader#thanos#choi su bong x reader#player 230#choi seunghyun#squid game thanos
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having your dom sit you in their lap with a vibrator pressed between your pussy and their thigh.
a simple enough variation to your usual routine of thigh riding, you let out a pretty sigh and rock your hips forward once before you feel their hands grip your hips to stop you.
“be still for me, baby. no grinding, can you handle that?” you know the sweetness behind the question is all for show, that it’s designed to make you feel small and disgustingly needy. it works. you’re nodding stupidly, already letting the vibrations between your legs overtake your thoughts. they appraise your expression, the way it starts to shift from attentive to blissed out, and turn the vibrator up one setting for good measure. “good, baby. i knew you could do it.”
it’s harder than you thought it would be, holding still through the pleasure. your brain, warm and gooey, keeps trying to urge you into your usual routine of humping away at whatever your partner puts between your legs. every time your hips twitch or shake, their grip tightens around you. you wonder if it’ll bruise. you hope it will. you know you’re getting close, drooling as you kiss and bite at any inch of their skin you can reach without moving your hips. a particularly insistent throb of your pussy threatens to drag you down into an orgasm, and you remember your manners at the last second.
“can i cum?” shakier than you would’ve liked, followed by a long moan. a beat of silence hangs in the air as you realize the answer, but it doesn’t stop you from pleading again, “can i? please?”
“no, baby. wait.” your ensuing cries are hushed, one hand coming up to stroke your hair gently as though you’re not being tormented. you wind up to object again but you’re silenced by a tug on your hair that forces you to look them in the eye. “quit, baby. you know you like how it makes you feel, so wait.”
your cheeks flush hot at the accusation, knowing how much truth it held. your eyes start watering as you try to look for a way out, knowing just by their tone that this will not be a time where you could get away with cumming on accident. you drop your head to their shoulder and try to lift your hips, only to be forced back down onto the toy. your brain vaguely registers the instruction to “sit your ass down and be still,” but it’s nearly drowned out by the wail you let out as you connect with the vibrator again. you start shaking your head, pushing back against their chest in an effort to separate yourself from the overwhelming pleasure while your hips stay locked in place by strong hands. how long have you been holding this orgasm? a few minutes? seconds? it feels like it’ll never end, like you’re letting them dangle you over a cliff for their own pleasure, watching you fight and cry while you try your best to follow the instructions given.
they pull back again to admire the distress on your face, letting out a pleased hum at the state you’re in. you’re whimpering constantly, head resting pitifully on their shoulder. they know they could stay there forever, keeping you desperate and pliant as you pant into their neck. they give an experimental bounce of their leg that sends you into another fit of moaning and begging.
“please, please! i need to cum, daddy. i wanna be good but i’m going to cum, can’t hold it anymore. need you to say yes,”
the grin that spreads across their face could only be described as lecherous, listening to the way they’ve absolutely ruined you. they have to get in close to your ear to ensure you hear, holding you still through the fight you’re still putting up as they press a kiss against your temple. “go ahead baby, give it to me,” they groan out, hearing your moans start to pitch up before they even get the sentence out. as if you needed any help to ride it out, they press you down harder against the vibrator, coaxing out sob after sob as your orgasm tears through your body.
“shh, baby, i know. it’s good isn’t it? why don’t you do it again for me since you were so well behaved?”
#one. handed. write.#having a lot of thoughts about a particular experience i had#needed to tell yall about it#pea’s done having writers block we are so back!!!!#sorry i can’t write smut with caps it feels way too serious#lesbian#wlw blog#lesbian blog#wlw post#wlw nsft#lesbian nsft#wlw concepts#wlw smut#lesbian smut#ns/fw#dedicated to all the underwear i’ve ruined
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BONNIE YOUR THREESOMES ARE PEAK PLEASE WRITE JAYVIK X READER PLEASE
hehehehe this was more involved than i thought it would be
summary: you and viktor get bored and jealous at a gala, threesome ensues after
m/m/f, dom!vik, switch! mostly sub reader, sub! jayce, smut, hehehehe
“I hate these things,” you say, but you always get dressed to the nines whenever there’s a gala, not a hair out of place and the fanciest gowns that otherwise rot in the background of your closet. You always make sure you look your best for your men at these things.
“I hate these things,” Viktor says, but he never fails to pull you onto his lap when he’s sure no one is looking. He always presses long kisses into your exposed skin that leave you flustered and giggly. He always makes sure you’re taken care of and more than flirted with when you go to a gala.
“I hate this,” you’ll say halfway through the night, angrily picking at your nails between glasses of champagne as you watch Jayce be hit on by yet another investor, “Must we pimp him out?”
“I hate it too,” Viktor agrees, but he doesn’t answer your question. You both know what this is, a necessity that brews a vicious anger in your gut. Jealousy and possessiveness brew like a venom as the two of you eat caviar and french fries on the outskirts of a ballroom. Viktor keeps an eye on your scowl as he leans on the table.
“I’m mad,” you’ll pout, when you can finally tug on Jayce’s jacket and pull him near, “You’re ours.”
He’ll just laugh and urge you to finish your last champagne glass before the carriage arrives.
He throws his jacket over you as Viktor’s free arm comes around your waist. To any bystander, it looks as if the two inventors are holding up a drunk girl. In reality, they can’t keep their hands off of you.
You’re thankful the carriage driver is discreet, with noise you’re making. Viktor actively holds your top half, your chest haphazardly thrown over his as he keeps you in place. Viktor messes up your hair, pushing it all away from your face. Jayce is relentless, bordering on mean with his teasing. His too warm hands dance around your inner thighs and drag along your skin. He’s long since discarded your panties and shoved them into his pocket as he kneels on the floor of the carriage and grins up at you in the moonlight.
“Jayce, please,” You beg.
“Are you kidding?” is how he responds, his voice low and harsh, “don’t think I didn’t see the show you were putting on with Vik.”
You smile sheepishly, and look up to where a dark purple spot blooms on the man’s throat.
“You were pretty mean to tease him like that,” Viktor says, and you realize there will be no orders for mercy in this carriage for you.
The walk from the carriage to the elevator is a struggle, your legs feeling like jelly from all of Jayce’s teasing and touching as the men crowd on either side of you. Jayce lifts you as the elevator doors open, one of his hands grabbing not so subtly at your ass. This is where it gets risky, as anyone after hours could blow the little cover your trio has.
The mood shifts as the elevator doors close, and your feet touch the ground as you both look to Viktor. Always, you and Jayce look to Viktor. Jayce holds you close, his arms caging you in. Viktor leans against the wall of the lift, his hand unbuttoning his waistcoat as he smiles at the two of you.
“You made her upset at the gala,” he states simply, looking up at the taller man, “Let’s make sure she feels loved enough to not complain so much next time.”
Anticipation swells in your chest, excitement having you ready to tear at their clothes right here and now, though you don’t move an inch.
Ironic though, that Viktor brings up your jealousy. As if he himself does not have an essay worth of complaints when he himself feels that way. As if he is not the biggest complainer in Zaun and Piltover combined. You voice none of that though.
Only a small whispered “Thank you, V,” leaves your lips.
“Touch her,” comes Victor’s voice from the couch, and instantly warm hands are upon you. Jayce gropes from your hips to your chest and back again, his warm fingers leaving a blazing train in their wake, wildfires breaking out upon your skin under his touch.
“So pretty,” Jayce breathes, his voice strained and breathy as he kisses along your shoulder. Jayce pushes the top of your dress from your shoulders, and then upon seemingly discovering the buttons along your back, his hands become laser focused on those.
“You both are,” Viktor sighs, his hand palming over his crotch as he watches you with a predatory stare, “Get her naked, please.”
Jayce obeys, sweet obedient Jayce. His fingers find themselves spinning you around, immediately working the line down your spine. His big fingers are nimble, rapidly pulling the extremely delicate buttons apart with ease without ripping a singe one of them. His hands travel down your spine, your body reacting in turn with shuddering gasps, until he reaches the cleft of your ass where the buttons finally stop. This is when Jayce urges you to stand straight, pushing your dress down to the point where it falls down your ass and legs, leaving you bare for them spare your heels.
Jayce’s warm hands are on you, caressing your chest and squeezing your hips.
“Is it.. good? The heels aren’t too much?” You ask, their lack of immediate verbal praise making your skin prickle in a way you don’t like.
“More than good,” Viktor scoffs, then orders “Come here.”
Without another thought, you sink to your knees immediately. Viktor’s wish is your command.
You shuffle forward until you’re between Viktor’s knees, his brace undone and his pants already unbuttoned and waiting for you. You push both down with care, actively pulling his brace down his leg gently to make sure that it’s not bumped in any way on the way down. It’s not unsexy, the way you remove the brace is the same way you’d remove any piece of clothing, just another thing on the journey to unwrapping him like a present. And he is a present to you tonight, most of your time with Viktor hurried in the lab and mostly clothed. The time and space to actually see him bare is a rare thing for you. You take the time to take his pants with it, each inch of revealed skin met with kisses. Lipstick meets the insides of pale knees, up pale thighs, exaggerating the punctuation of the moles on his legs.
You look up at him expectantly, as if for instruction.
“My love, what?” he ask, a chuckle in his tone as he grasps the back of your head, “you know what to do.”
With that he gently leads your head down, your lips parting to catch the head of his cock between them. You waste no time sinking your mouth down onto him, only stopping when he hits the back of your throat. Despite the fact that he does not fully fit in your mouth, you do not wrap your fingers around the base of his dick. That’s always been a quirk of Viktor’s, that he likes it with no hands. So one of your free hands sinks into the couch, the old worn cushion soft under your touch. Your other hand moves between your thighs, moving lazy circles with your middle two fingers over your clit. You moan at the contact, and Viktor shudders as your moan reverberates around him. He crooks a finger towards the other man, and Jayce comes forward to quickly capture Victor’s lips into a kiss. You stare up from your spot below, licking the underside of Viktor’s cockhead as you watch the two lock lips. Viktor is the first to deepen the kiss, his tongue diving past Jayce’s lips. They’re so beautiful, your men. You watch them hungrily as you bob your head up and down on Viktor’s length, your cheeks hollowing out around him. Your fingers speed up, and every few moments you allow your fingers to dip into yourself, not nearly enough and not what you want but it fuels the fire in your gut. You don’t hold back with your own moaning, letting them know how good you’re feeling right now.
Viktor seems to notice the way your shoulder is moving, and pulls away from Jayce. Not too far, as his breath still tickles Jayce’s mustache.
“You made our little Princezno very upset, Jayce,” Viktor tsks, “Look at how good she is being for us, and you make her so jealous?”
Jayce looks down, his eyes meeting yours.
“I’m sorry, babe,” he tells you, and you hope he can see that you’re smiling even with Viktor’s dick down your throat.
“Did you think that was enough?” Viktor asks, and one of his hands comes to your chin, gently pulling you off of him. You stretch and move your jaw, slightly sore from use. Viktor pulls you up, gesturing for you to lay in his lap. He does this when he needs a breather, when he gets himself a little too worked up too quickly. It’s almost an ego boost knowing you have that power over him, but not when it leaves him attempting to stifle a cough. You comply happily though, stretching out on your back so that your head rests mostly on his good leg, your hand lazily coming up to rub along the edge of his back brace. His still hard cock rests against his abdomen, close enough that you can kiss it when you turn your head, and you do. Your lips press a warm kiss where the base of his shaft meets his balls.
“Look at her, she’s worked herself up so much,” There’s fake pity in his tone as Jayce moves to the other side of the ratty couch, “I think you should make it up to her.”
“I agree,” Jayce sighs as he kneels at the edge of the couch, his big hands propping up your hips for him and holding you still. Jayce’s breath fans out across your core, already dripping and ready for him. He smiles at you, and you want to run your tongue along the gap in his teeth. Jayce is so fucking handsome. You don’t know when he removed his jacket and shirt, but he hooks one of your legs over his bare shoulder before diving in. His tongue feels molten hot as he licks your cunt open, and he groans as he tastes you. A greedy slurp cuts through the air of the otherwise quiet lab, obscene and embarrassing as you throw your hands up to cover your face.
“None of that,” Viktor chides you, gently prying your hands away, “If you must grab anything, grab Jayce. I want to see you.”
You comply, just as obedient as Jayce when it comes to Viktor. You nod and him as your hands tremble, fingers burying themselves in the hair that Jayce is trying to grow out. Jayce hums appreciatively against you at the contact. He returns to opening you with fervor, his tongue now focused solely on your clit. Jayce’s fingers tease your entrance, dipping into where you’ve already soaked and just barely breaching you, earning him breathy whines and whispered begging.
“Jayce… need you,” you moan, frustrated tears already prickling at your eyes. He’s in a teasing mood tonight, his worst and most dangerous mood. If Viktor doesn’t call him off, you could be at this until dawn.
“Do you need us both?” Viktor asks, which you meet with nodding that jostle’s Viktor’s good leg. You look up at him, silently begging. He pouts mockingly at you, using one hand to wipe away a stray tear near your lashes.
“Prep her,” he orders Jayce, not taking his eyes off of yours, “She needs us both, who are we to deny her?”
Jayce hums against your clit again, making you yelp. His fingers delve into you, scissoring you open and pressing deep. Finally, you think, finally. His fingers don’t stay long, just enough to soak them. Jayce pulls his fingers out and moves them lower. He circles the other hole, then slowly, ever so carefully, pushes one in. The adjustment is always a little painful, despite that you’re used to this by now. He’s slow to move, and works you open to take the second finger.
“She tastes so good,” Jayce moans when he removes is mouth from you, only for a moment to catch his breath, “So so sweet.”
His fingers in your ass start to move a little faster as his lips reattach themselves to your clit, sucking hard on the little bud to make you yank on his hair. If there’s something Jayce likes, it’s a little pain. He fucks you on his hand until you see stars, each time you come close to ecstasy, he pulls back; maddening and near painful. He does this three times, each time has you whining and cursing and panting while Viktor holds your face still and whispers sweet praise to you.
“You’re doing so well, look at how happy you’re making us, just once more.”
But his words mean little when you’re blinded with the need to cum, the need to make a mess for Jayce to lick up, to be sandwiched between the two of them and filled.
“Can’t … fuck, ah… can’t do it anymore,” you plead, the tears starting to come more rapidly, a babbling brook becoming a stream. You twist nearly out of Viktor’s hold, your fingers going slack against Jayce’s scalp, and Viktor’s face goes stoic.
“Jayce, stop!” he tells him, clear that you’ve been pushed a little too far. Jayce pulls back immediately, but doesn’t leave. Instead he wraps his arms around you, his head on your chest like a weighted blanket as he holds you.
“I’m sorry, baby. Was I mean to you?” Jayce croons, but the way his hand envelops yours and squeezes tells you it’s a check-in.
“A little,” you whimper, “I just wanted to fuck you… and cum.”
You add the last part with a little indignant joke in your tone. Truly, you could handle what he was doing on a normal night, but tonight, you just wanted your men and their attention.
“I’m sorry,” he repeats again, and then lifts his head up to Viktor, “You ready to go again?”
“I always was,” Viktor scoffs.
You sigh as you sink down onto Viktor’s length, the familiar stretch to accommodate him always pleasant. He smiles up at you from where he now lays on the couch, his good leg digging into the cushion to give him some leverage of his own, his own lips parted in his own clumsy sigh. You lean down to capture those lips in a kiss, a brief peck before you turn your head back to Jayce.
“You ready?” You ask him, beckoning him closer.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been more ready for something,” Jayce jokes, his knee pressing into the couch cushion between Viktor’s legs and yours. He drips some lube onto his shaft, until now neglected as some light unspoken attempt of a punishment. He remembers how you had rolled your eyes and made fun of him when he pointed out to you that he had even bought some lube to hide in one of his personal drawers in the space. Now, however, its half empty and every combination of the three of you have been more than happy to use it on more than one occasion. He gives his cock two pumps to smear the lube, then settles in behind you. Jayce runs hot, and his heat radiates across your back.
He lines himself up gently, and just as gently pushes into your other hole.
It takes everything in you not to scream and come at that very moment. You breath through your teeth, seething at the way you hold back as you adjust to the feeling, while familiar always an adjustment. Your panting breaks into a light airy chuckle as you move your hips, a small swivel and roll. Both of your men groan at the feeling. That’s their cue to begin.
Viktor and Jayce are geniuses to begin with, but when it comes to your body they’re even more than that. They fall into opposite patterns, when Viktor is fully flush in you, Jayce is pulling back; When Viktor pulls you up from his lap, Jayce’s hips are flat against your ass. Viktor goes in, Jayce goes out, Jayce goes in, Viktor goes out. It’s maddening, and so damn quick to work you back up into a frenzy.
“Fuck, Amazing,” Viktor pants, his head thrown back against the cushion as he tilts his hips up again into you, “You two spoil me.”
A breathy laugh leaves his lips as he continues his movement, his hands lazily tracing up Jayce’s biceps and down your waist. He smiles though youre sure he’s sore by now, something he’ll use as an excuse to have you and Jayce massage out and to cater to him and bring him a glass of sweetmilk and the little lemon loaf cake you had baked yesterday. Jayce doesn’t respond verbally, but speeds up the movement of his hips, double time to ease Viktor’s movements. He easily pushes you up and down on both of their cocks, the change in pace somehow even more divine than before.
“Spoil you?” you gasp, your mouth hangs open as you struggle to moan between the two of them, your hands frantic and clumsy grasping at them both, yet not finding purchase or rooting anywhere. You find yourself, between the gasps and the moans, laughing too.
“I’m the fuckin’ spoiled one,” you tell them. Viktor’s hand leaves your waist, dropping down to rub circles on your clit.
Almost instantly, you go rigid, the many orgasms Jayce had denied you crashing down upon you. The feeling makes it feel like you shatter, like your muscles are made of glass and you break in their embrace.
“Ah, fuck fuck, shit,” Jayce curses as you tense up and shake between the two of them, “So tight.”
You moan, low and hoarse and drawn out as the two men cage you in, holding you tight between them. Viktor’s hands find your face, cupping your cheeks as he whispers praise to you.
Heat floods you, Jayce finishing along with you, spilling into your ass with a harsh groan. He stills behind you, one of his big arms coming up from the couch to wrap around you and hug you tight, your sweaty spine colliding with his equally sweaty chest.
“Fuck you guys are fantastic,” he whispers, his stubble and lips brushing clumsily against your shoulder as he speaks. Viktor still thrusts up into you, his movements slower now as the two of you still above him. He looks down to where his fingertips have left the faintest of bruises on your hips. Beautiful, and he knows you’ll wear them with pride.
You start to shift on top of him, not quite meeting his lazier thrusting, but the friction is enough. Your mouth falls open, your eyes screwed shut as you keep going. You’re so good for them, with the way you’re clearly spent, all sluggish limbs and overstimulation, and still fucking yourself on him.
Viktor finishes quietly, another flood of heat within you as he sighs and throws his head back against the cushion of the couch. His frame shudders, a full body shake beneath the both of you as bliss takes over.
You start immediately to rub circles with your thumbs over Viktor’s shoulders, routine now as the three of you fall out of your haze, calm settling over you. Everything is still once more in the lab, the only noise your shared breathing and the hum of the generators.
“Fuck,” you breathe out, laughter on your lips. Jayce starts kissing the back of your neck, a soothing balm to ease tense muscles as he gently pulls out. He moves slowly, feeling the trickle of his spend follow his exit. You groan as he moves away, standing up from the couch.
“Come back,” you tell him, reaching out with one hand to try to beckon him back.
“You need a washcloth,” Jayce laughs, stark naked and proud of the mess he leaves the two of you on the couch. He shuffles over to the little wash basin and care station the three of you had slowly built up over the years. He runs the tap for a little while, waiting for the warm water before he brings the cloth under the flow of the water. He looks back at the two of you, flashing a toothy smile thats blinding even in the darkness of the lab.
“Braggadocios, is he not?” Viktor asks, a playful smirk on his tired face.
“Terribly,” you respond, winking at him.
“I can hear you two!” Jayce calls as he walks back over to the couch, “Conspiring against me?”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you hum, but he knows thats a lie.
He wouldn't have it any other way, though.
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Said I Wouldn't, Part 2 - Final
Pairing: Dad!Terry Richmond x Virgin!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader
Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT. Cursing, teasing (fem receiving), oral (female receiving), PIV, reader is tied up, virginity loss, mentions of Christian religious themes, breeding kink if you squint. All consensual. Sorry if I missed some.
Summary: Babysitting for Terry had its perks. You were able to see his gorgeous ass every night before heading off to your own house next door. But you thought your life was over when Terry caught you in his bedroom. The long-awaited talk clears up the air, but like magnets, it’s not long before you find yourself at his mercy. It’s not such a bad place to be.
Word Count: 5,680k
AO3 Link | Part 1
A/N: I...refuse to apologize for this one. I am so over the moon feral for this one. Like I make myself sick. LOL. I truly hope you enjoy! Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.
You wrung your fingers one by one as you hovered beside your front door. Terry texted you earlier in the day to tell you that Troy would be spending the night at a friend’s house. You weren’t sure what that actually meant for the talk you were supposed to have.
Was it good news? That he wanted to explore the arrangement more? Become more of a full service nanny? Because not gonna lie, you were totally here for it. Or was he still going to give you “that talk”, that said you couldn’t do this again and it wasn’t fair to Troy who looked up to you both? Was he trying to ensure that you weren’t going to cry, scream, and throw up where Troy could see?
There were too many variables and now you regretted telling him that you wanted to speak today. You should’ve thrown on your big girl panties and talked then. Talk after you were begging to be fucked. Begging. God. That man had you begging for dick.
You wore your virginity as a source of pride at this point. While everyone told you horror stories about their first time or were so sex crazed that they were keying men’s cars, you saw your virginity as some rebellious act. Perhaps it was a way to feel empowered by your decision as opposed to beholden to it by circumstance. In any case, it was something you chose to keep over and over again.
The truth of the matter was that people expected big girls to accept whatever gremlin limped onto their doorstep. As if you weren’t allowed to have standards. As if you weren’t supposed to love your body enough to not treat it like trash and let everyone in. The body is a temple but only for certain girls. Yours had to be a McDonald’s drive through at three am in the hood. Fuck that.
Your sandals slapped against the hardwood floor as you tapped your foot waiting for Terry’s car to pull into the driveway. The anticipation was slowly killing you, bit by bit. Questions ran through your mind and sure, you could come up with possible answers. But after being caught yesterday, it was quite clear that you were terrible in an emergency. Your flight or fight response was all fucked up.
The familiar sound of Terry’s car rumbled closer until he pulled his truck into the driveway. You peeked out of the window and watched as he got Troy out of the car and went inside.
You checked your phone but Terry hadn’t said anything else. You sighed and tapped your phone against your thigh. You hadn’t known what to wear to something like this. A skirt to show you were open for business? A dress so it was less obvious? Pants so that he didn’t think that was all you wanted? Decisions, decisions.
You opted for another bodycon dress. Fuck it. It’d become your Wednesday night outfit so it may as well work today as well. This time it was a deep navy blue that lowkey made you feel like a mermaid.
The biggest decision weighing heavily on you was the fact that you were about to hand over your virginity, if Terry was open to it. Willingly too. Sure, you knew the man for close to a year now and had plenty of nights where you stayed for dinner. But this was…serious.
Perhaps too serious. You carried your virgin card for so long and once you spent it…that was it. There was no returning it. It should frighten you. Right now, you were mostly nervous. You liked and respected Terry. Felt safe enough with him to allow him to finger you like there was no tomorrow.
Your body flushed with heat remembering how tightly his hand gripped yours. You sighed and leaned against the wall, remembering the huge bulge in his shorts as he rubbed it against your ass. The deft way his thick fingers played with your pussy as if he were stroking a kitty.
The slam of Terry’s door tore you away from your thoughts as you watched Terry get back in his truck with Troy. He backed out of the driveway and your heart jumped in your throat.
Was it like this for other girls? Did they have all this anticipation when they lost their virginity? After a while, you stopped asking your friends questions. Stopped wanting to know every detail because you felt creepy asking. But there weren’t exactly books you could read up on the matter. You could watch all the porn in the world, touch yourself all you wanted, but it was different being with a man. Especially one as sexy as Terry.
Truth be told, you just didn’t want to fuck it up.
Your phone buzzed and you swiped it open to your conversation with Terry.
Terry (Troy’s Dad): Dropped off Troy. Be there in 10.
You: Okay, chilling in my room. Let me know when you’re here.
Liar, liar. You were too nervous to sit, eat, or burp. You were working yourself up so you took a few deep breaths and waited for Terry to arrive.
Ten minutes sharp, Terry’s truck pulled into the driveway. You shrieked and backed away from the door. A minute later, Terry rang your doorbell and you hopped in place. This was it. You were either about to get fucked or put down like Old Yeller.
You walked to the front door and opened it. Terry smirked when he saw you. He wore a black polo shirt with the first button loose and black pants. The short sleeves cut into his thick muscles, veins running down his arms and his tattoos on bright display.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey,” you said.
He jerked his head so you closed and locked the door behind you and followed him over to his porch. Terry opened the door and allowed you to enter first. He turned on lights as he entered behind you and you walked forward, pulling your arms behind your back so he wouldn’t see how nervous you were.
You were an adult. You could handle rejection. Even though you really wanted it to be the opposite.
“Have a seat. Want water or somethin’?” He asked.
“Naw, I’m good,” you said. If you ate or drank anything right now, you would hurl. You made a beeline to the couch, somehow the safest spot in the house. Sitting down, you pretended that this was just another day. Right.
There was nothing routine about the way Terry watched you. His eyes didn’t miss a beat as you settled onto the couch. Terry rubbed the back of his head before he came to stand beside you.
Instead of sitting on the couch, Terry scooted in front of you and sat on the coffee table. His legs trapped yours and you stiffened, noticing that you had nowhere to run. No way to escape. He managed to cage you without you even having a clue.
“First, I wanna apologize,” Terry said.
You stiffened your shoulders so they wouldn’t drop with disappointment. Ah. That conversation. One you were all too familiar with so you nodded your head and kept your face neutral. You weren’t going to embarrass yourself. Not even for the likes of Terry Richmond.
“You really don’t have to,” you said. Really. You weren’t in the mood to listen to how this was all a mistake, he should’ve known better, he deeply regrets his actions…
“Stop,” Terry said.
You lifted your eyes to his striking ones and he smirked. “It’s not what you’re thinking. I want to apologize because we should’ve talked first before I attacked you.”
You took a deep breath. “You don’t know what I’m thinking,” you said, poking your bottom lip out. It was exactly what you were thinking and you resent the fact that you were so easy to read. “And you didn’t attack me.”
Terry only smirked. Bastard. You wanted to get into a battle of wills to calm your racing heart and your sweaty palms. But he was too mature. And you were too in love.
Terry leaned down and grabbed your left leg, pulling it into his lap. You gasped as he pulled off your sandal. He pulled up your dress until he exposed your calf and then he started to massage it.
You hummed and sunk further into his couch, letting his magic fingers weave a spell into your skin. His fingers dug into your muscles and you rolled your eyes back, face scrunched with pleasure.
“Had I known…shit, I don’t know. I had been drawn to you for a while but didn’t want to overstep,” he said.
You licked your lips and nodded. “I get it. Have you seen yourself in the mirror?”
Terry chuckled. “Only every day,” he said.
“Never thought I’d be jealous of a mirror,” you said and grinned.
Terry pressed into your calf and it made you moan. You caught yourself and hid your face. Terry chuckled and stopped. “Don’t hide from me,” he said.
You sighed and lowered your hands. “You’re impossible to stay cool around,” you said.
He chuckled and went back to massaging your calf. His fingers were so long and big, you watched as he kneaded your leg until you were indistinguishable from jelly. He lowered your leg and then picked up your left leg, removing your sandal, and went to work with his massage.
“You’re impossible to forget,” he said and flicked his hazel eyes to yours. His fingers continued to turn you into an absolute puddle, your panties growing damp with each dig of his thumbs. “I look forward to seeing you when I’m on my way home. There’s days I wake up and nearly put a hole through my bed because I’m so hard.”
“Shit,” you sighed. How was this your life? How was the sexiest man in the world telling you that he was distracted by you? You, who’d rather lounge in PJ’s all day and snack than eat a proper meal?
“I meant what I said. That you drive me up the wall,” he said.
You chewed on the inside of your cheek. “Does…my being a virgin bother you? I’d completely understand…”
“Doesn’t bother me at all,” he cut you off.
You nodded. Cool. Cool. Everybody’s cool. Except you were ready to jump into the nearest volcano. “I really didn’t mean to snoop in your room. You’ve seen you, but I wanted to know more. I wanted to know more of you. Not just that you’re Troy’s dad,” you said. Your heart thumped in your throat and threatened to clog up your vocal chords. But if you were going to ask this man to knock the sonic coins out of you, then you had to be grown enough to communicate.
Terry nodded. “I get that. Find anything interesting in my room?” He asked.
You took a deep breath. There was not a chance in hell that you were going to fess up to stealing his shirt. But the way he asked, the way he tilted his head, the permanent smirk on his lush, pink lips… Your guilt made you think he knew but you didn’t know for certain and you didn’t need another reason for him to toss you on your ass. So you shook your head. “Only confirmed my suspicions…that you’re an old ass man.”
Terry erupted into a rare, full belly laugh. His fingers danced on your calf and you giggled with him, loving the way his face transformed from a serious robot to a more open expression. “I’m an old ass man?”
You nodded your head. “Anyone who reads Clive Cussler is an old ass man, sorry. I don’t make the rules,” you said and shrugged your shoulders.
Terry lowered your leg to the floor. He adjusted himself on the coffee table, widening his stance so that he could grip your knees and spread them. Your lips parted, watching the determined expression on his gorgeous face.
He drew your dress further up your legs, so reminiscent of yesterday that you wondered if it was a secret turn on for him. He exposed your legs, pooling the dress at the top of your knees. Your sweaty thighs tingled and your breaths grew rapid. You didn’t know where to look. His hands or his eyes.
“So if I’m an old man, what does that make you?” He asked. He walked his fingers across your thighs, pressing down in random spots. Sometimes he touched a tender knot and it made you moan. He got closer and closer to your pussy and then he flicked his eyes to yours.
He paused, waiting for his answer. You took a deep breath to release that pent up anticipation. You didn’t know what came next. Only that you would cease to be unless he continued to touch you. Unless he kept going and never stopped.
“Someone with an old man fetish,” you said.
Terry chuckled and then continued his slow torture, sliding his hands to the hot core of you. His thumbs traced your pussy lips outside of your panties and you moaned, biting your lip.
“I’m a gentleman but nothing about these fucking thoughts are holy,” Terry breathed.
“If I let you off the hook for the night…ahh,” you moaned when Terry pressed into your clit.
“It’s your first time,” he whispered.
“Pretend it’s not. I won’t break,” you whispered back.
Terry stood up and grabbed you by the wrists to pull you up with him. He moved lightning fast, so fast you didn’t have a chance to blink before he crushed his lips to yours. You sighed, rolling with it, as his lips moved expertly over yours. Heavenly.
God. You made your peace with being single and a virgin for a long time. Thought you would be well into your 40s until you gave in and settled. How fucking wrong you were. How could you ever go back to your existence now that you knew the taste of his lips? The feel of his hands caging your face and keeping you close?
Terry pulled away with one last lick to your bottom lip. He rubbed his nose against yours. “Trust me, okay?”
You nodded. “I trust you,” you promised.
Terry pulled you by the hand to follow. Your dress dropped down to your ankles as you walked behind him back to the scene of the crime. You ought to feel some type of way, but for now, you were just turned on. Turned on, nervous as hell, excited. There were too many emotions trying to contain themselves in your body and you weren’t sure what to focus on. Your mind spun with..fuck, just about everything. Too many to name.
You focused on him. Just him. His large hand in yours, the clothes on his back, the broad sweep of his shoulders, and his short haircut. You focused on the long length of his body as he moved and that round, juicy ass you just wanted to take a bite of. If it were an apple, it’d be the one Adam and Eve risked heaven over.
Terry pulled you into his room and then closed the door, though there was no one else there. Still, it felt more intimate to do so like he was pulling you into his lair and you loved every second of it.
He stopped in the middle of the room and turned around to face you. “You can say no, okay? If I ever do anything you don’t like,” he said.
You smirked. “I begged you to fuck me yesterday. I think it’s safe to say there’s almost nothing I wouldn’t like,” you said.
“Almost nothing?” He asked. He stepped closer, caging your face with his hands once more. He kissed your forehead and then trailed kisses down your face until his warm lips found yours. You kissed him, licking his bottom lip. He groaned and closed what little distance there was between your bodies, slipping his tongue into your mouth.
“I’m not telling,” you said and giggled.
“Oh, it’s like that?” He asked.
You nodded and your lips brushed against his. “Yeah, it’s like that,” you said.
Terry grinned, showing off his enchanting smile. He turned you and pushed you towards his bed and then helped you out of your dress. He helped take off your bra and panties, teasing you as he revealed your body.
He gripped and played with your titties and nipples, rolling them between his fingers and pinching here and there. Tingles slipped down your thighs with each swipe of his tongue on your body, teeth on your flesh, and fingers on your skin. He stepped away briefly and then returned with a crimson scarf. You giggled, it looked just like the one you lost a few months ago.
“On the bed,” Terry commanded, his deep voice making you snap to attention. He kissed the back of your neck. You peeked over your shoulder and smiled, climbing onto the bed achingly slow.
He slapped your ass to make you move faster and you giggled, scooting to the middle of the bed. You flipped over and Terry kneeled on the bed and waved for you to present your hands.
“Okay?” He asked.
Was it okay? Was this man serious? You were a virgin but you weren’t crazy. Of course it was fucking okay. This was only your biggest fucking fantasy come to life. Well…maybe top 3. You did have a disturbing fantasy of wanting him to grab you by the neck and give you back shots until you screamed for mercy and he ignored you. Listen, your imagination was all you had, okay?!
“Okay,” you said and nodded.
He made quick work of tying the scarf around your wrists in a complicated knot. He didn’t leave you much slack between your hands and you tested the knots but it held firm. “Where the hell did you even learn how to do this?” You asked.
“Marine Corps,” he said with a wink. He stepped back from the bed and then gave you a show. He gripped the ends of his shirt and took it off in one fell swoop. His abs moved and stretched, showing off all that hard work he put in the gym. Fuck, he was huge.
His arms bulged and you grew even more wet just watching his body move. He tossed his shirt on the floor and then tilted his head while his hands went to his belt. His fingers moved quickly and soon, his belt slipped through the loops and you gasped. The things he could do to you with that belt….
“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” you said.
Terry’s smirk curved his lips as he unzipped his pants and shoved it and his briefs off of his narrow hips. His dick bobbed as he moved, a veritable one-eyed monster slapping against his inner thigh. His balls hung heavy, huge, swinging as he stepped out of one pant leg and then the other.
Your mouth dropped open as you stared…and stared. What the hell were you thinking?! Your first time and you had to find the biggest, largest, most humongous dick to take?
“It’ll fit,” Terry said, not bothering to hide his amusement at your expression.
“Are you sure? ‘Cause…damn,” you said.
“Want to back out?”
“No, no, no, no. I…you have a very big dick, sir,” you said. You couldn’t take your eyes off of it. You knew a lot about anatomy but apparently not enough. This had to be like those BBC porno videos you sometimes took a gander at. It always seemed like the men were going to break their partners in half. Other times, the women took all that big dick and you were always left wondering how in the world.
You were about to find out.
Terry chuckled and then kneeled onto the bed, climbing on until he was able to plant himself between your legs. He hummed and tilted his head, assessing the wet state of you, as he looked between your pussy and your face.
This was the closest you ever allowed a man and you expected to tense up. Shut down. Close off. But you just wanted more. You wanted him.
“If I do my job correctly, you won’t worry about that,” he said.
You took a deep breath as a fresh wave of desire passed over your skin. Fuck. He was killing you. And he hadn’t even done anything yet. “Big words,” you said, unable to resist.
Terry leaned onto his elbows and then got comfortable. You watched every inch of his body move into position. Since he was on his stomach, you got to see the expanse of his back and the curve of his ass. He lifted one leg on the bed and let his other leg stretch out behind him.
Fuck.
Terry gripped your thighs and pushed them further apart. You cried out, but Terry only pushed more until you were fully bare. You did clean up your pubic hair, but still…uneasiness creeped in. Did you…smell right for him? Should you have cleaned up more?
Terry’s thumbs pushed into your inner thighs as he brought his face closer to your pussy. He took a deep breath and then sighed with a deep moan. His eyes were trained on yours as he opened his mouth and let his tongue prove you wrong.
The rush of warmth from his breath dueled with your cooling essence and you jerked as his tongue pushed through your pussy lips. His tongue searched for your clit and when he found it, he teased the little nub out from hiding.
“Oh…fuck…” you moaned. No wonder women wanted that. Fuck. You weren’t going to be able to live without it. You’d dream about this. Wake up in a cold sweat, body aching to be ate out just like this.
Terry’s perfect hazel eyes finally closed as he moaned and feasted you with abandon. He ate sloppily, messily, the slurp and suckling near echoing in the room. Your body tingled and jerked as licked and licked.
“Shit, shit, oh fuck,” you said. You couldn’t stop talking. Couldn’t stop moaning. You see now why he had to tie your hands because you were ready to push his damn head away. He was too good at this. Not that you really had anything to compare it too, but fuck, you would never allow some mediocre man between your legs.
It had to be Terry. It had to always be Terry. He moaned and his shoulders dipped. The bed jerked and you looked down to see him practically grinding into the bed.
“Fuck, that feels so good,” you said.
Terry moaned. “Taste so fuckin’ good,” he said between your legs. He flattened his tongue against your pussy and dragged it from entrance to clit and back again. You closed your eyes and rolled your hips.
Terry’s hands on your thighs increased pressure, holding you still, while he devoured your pussy. Pools of your desire leaked from your needy hole and your fingers dug into the scarf. Your finger caught on something but you were too far gone to pay attention.
Not when his mouth was glued to your pussy. Not while his tongue flicked against your clit. Your pussy throbbed in time with your heartbeat as he used that masterful tongue to bring you closer and closer to the edge.
Your belly flipped and your moans turned to pathetic stutters as he locked in, finding a rhythm that had you ready to sing church hymns. “Terry, fuck, Terry, please,” you begged. He had to slow down. He had to ease up.
Terry didn’t say a word. He just growled and kept going, massaging his thumbs into your thighs. He leaned back to slurp and swallow and then he latched right back on.
“Fuck!” You moaned. You threw your head back and came on his tongue, thighs shaking. This was infinitely more powerful than anything you managed to achieve on your own. It was like the clouds breaking apart and seeing heaven for a brief moment. Enough to kiss the pearly gates before you were snatched back by Terry continuing to lick you while you came back down.
Your legs were weak and spent as he slowed his licks. Your fingers tore at the scarf even though there was no way to escape. No way to run. Terry moaned one last time before finally letting go of your poor, abused clit. It throbbed as if it missed him just that fast.
A spit chain still connected his mouth to your pussy and you watched as he licked his glistening lips. He used the back of his hand to wipe the rest of it away, plus whatever spilled to his chin. Your head flopped back onto the bed. “Fuck.”
Terry chuckled. “No more shit to talk?” He asked, out of breath.
Your fingers still played with the scarf as you looked towards the ceiling. Part of his headboard was in view but hell, your mind was still back in heaven. And he wanted you to answer? Well, you weren’t one to back down. So you took a few shuddering breaths.
“I can’t even try right now, to be honest,” you said. You had a laundry list of shit you could talk about to diffuse the situation. Jokes you could pull from your back pocket. But you were too damn spent.
Terry got off of the bed and then circled around to his nightstand. He withdrew a fresh box of condoms and you dazedly watched him. He cast his eyes towards you. “You’re so fuckin’ sexy,” he murmured.
You giggled. “I mean, I’m still jealous of your mirror,” you said.
Terry chuckled while he grabbed a condom and went to work opening the package. You lazily fiddled with the scarf, not wanting him to see how nervous you were. Part of him was right though. He ate you out so well, you weren’t even scared of that monster tapping against his thigh.
Terry climbed back on the bed once he had the condom fully on his erect dick. You watched him as your finger caught on something jagged and hard. You brought the scarf to look at and noticed the same burn pattern that had been on your scarf. The same scarf you lost…
Terry climbed further onto the bed, grabbing your legs to pull you into position. He placed your legs around his hips and then lined himself up, getting the condom wet with your juices.
“Terry…” you said, looking between the scarf, his hands, and that dick.
“Hm?” He asked.
“Is this my scarf?” You asked.
Terry cocked his head and a smirk slowly spread across his lips. “You left it once and I couldn’t find it in me to give it back. I figured it was only fair. I know you took my shirt,” he said.
“Wha-”
Terry pushed in just as you were about to ask your question. He managed to slip in way further than you were expecting and your belly caved in, trying to get used to him. To his size. To the delicious, burning stretch. Like yes, it fucking hurt. But not as much as you thought it would.
You moved your hands against his chest, pushing at him, but he held still, no longer moving. “You have to breathe,” he said.
You forgot how to breathe. Your lungs no longer worked. There was a dick inside you. Terry’s dick was inside you. And fuck…you lied earlier. This was heaven. It was a little hotter than you imagined, but you could forgive the temperature as long as he stayed inside you like this.
Terry called your name and leaned down until his stormy oceanic eyes swam into view. “Breathe. I’m not gon’ tell you again.”
You nodded and took a shallow breath. You took a few more until you were able to take a full one and then another. Your thighs shook around his hips.
“Talk to me,” he commanded.
“I’m okay. I’m okay. Keep going. Please, fucking move,” you said.
Terry leaned down into a push up and pressed his lips to yours. He withdrew and then pushed slowly back into you, working his way inside. Fuck. He was right, he did fit. But only just.
His kisses were nice distractions from the slight burn and pain, but it was more because you were still tense and less because he was doing anything wrong. He just felt too damn good.
“Fuck,” Terry moaned, breaking away from kissing you. He dropped his sweaty forehead to your shoulder as he worked himself in further, deeper, stretching you to the point of no return.
You shivered as you moaned. There was no way you could walk away from this. No way you could return to normal. Not after he slapped those heavy balls against your ass and buried deep down to the hilt. It was like every stroke claimed a piece of your soul. Every moan tied your body to his.
“T-Terry,” you said, a bite of panic reaching your own ears. It seemed way too intense. You wanted to ask if it was normal. You weren’t going to be that girl. Like you were going to obsess over him simply because he was your first. You knew you would never forget this. But with the way you were feeling…
“This pussy is mine,” Terry growled and then he bit your shoulder.
You cried out and jerked, tears springing to your eyes as he was able to move more freely. Slip more easily. Leave your entrance completely, leave you feeling downright empty, and then he’d slam right back into the hilt.
Tears spilled down the sides of your face, right down to the bed beneath your head. You moaned as your pussy throbbed on his dick.
“Don’t stop,” he begged, increasing his strokes.
You throbbed again and again and listened as Terry’s moans turned wild, haphazard, and his strokes grew less precise.
“Mine. Mine,” he chanted, low under his breath and some type of demon seemed to take hold. He slammed his hips into yours. You wanted to touch him. Claw at him. The only thing you could do was grip his hips with your thighs and welcome him in. Accept him in a place no one had been allowed in before.
“Tell me it’s mine,” he said. He leaned up and kissed you sloppily, teeth clashing against each other as he stroked deep. He moved his lips to your jaw, to your neck, and then to the top of your chest.
Your belly flipped as if he were literally pulling the orgasm from whatever deep well he managed to find. Your moans increased, high pitched, and near screaming.
“It’s yours,” you breathed. “Fuck, it’s all yours. It’s only yours. It’s fucking yours!” You screamed as you fell apart on his dick.
You cried and whimpered, body shaking from another powerful orgasm. Like it was the final seal tying you two together. Surely, that wasn’t normal?
Fuck normal. You were all his. “Mine,” you whispered.
Terry cupped your cheek and pressed his forehead to yours. “Yours,” he said and then groaned, stroking a few more times before he cursed as he came. His dick throbbed and you felt the warm heat of him inside but the condom still separated you two.
You wondered what it would be like to be fully claimed. To have no barrier between you. Nothing to keep you apart as he bathed your insides with his hot, thick cum. You wanted it where it belonged. Buried deep inside you. Pregnancy be damned. You wanted it all.
Terry groaned as he finished and he huffed, leaning his weight off of you so he didn’t crush you to pieces.
You were both sweaty, gross messes. You looked at Terry and he smiled at you. “Okay?” He asked.
“I mean, I’m probably not going to walk for the next week…or two. But yes, I’m okay,” you said.
He chuckled. He slowly withdrew from you and you groaned, instantly feeling sore and empty as he left you. Now you knew why you always waited. Because fuck. If it wasn’t like that you would have never been satisfied. Never knew how intense it could be.
“And I meant that shit too,” Terry said, climbing off of the bed to dispose of the condom. “You’re mine. I can’t explain it. But if that scares you…”
“It doesn’t,” you rushed to say. It was intense and scary in a way you hadn’t prepared for, but he didn’t scare you. Belonging to him didn’t scare you. It was perhaps why every interaction felt so charged with him. There was a pressure being around him this past year, like an overfilled cup that could spill over at any moment.
“You’re mine.”
Terry grinned and left the room, returning with a warm washcloth. “Oh!” You gasped as the warm cloth soothed some of the ache between your legs.
“C’mon. We’ll take a bath. It’ll help,” he said. He untied your scarf from your hands and rubbed circulation back into it. It still tripped you out that he kept it.
He helped you to the bath and he ran the water while you talked about nothing really. Just this feeling now that the bubble popped. As if the universe itself had been trying to push you two together and you finally listened.
As you took the bath with him, you discussed how you would keep it quiet for now. Let Terry divorce his wife, let Troy get used to the idea of you two dating, let you get your degree.
It was all very adult. All very mature. But with his thickening dick swelling against your ass, you were anything but mature as you enjoyed each other over and over again. After all, you belonged to each other now. Time was no longer a factor to you.
The end.
WHEW. I'll see myself out. The Secret Terry Richmond Files | Part 1
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⭒˚‧ ⭒ཐིཋྀ "Only nice girls get treats." ཐིཋྀ⭒ ‧˚⭒
♡ warnings: caleb x fem!reader, (18+ mdni), reader is insecure, fingering, dirty talk, pussy eating, begging, crying, dumbification, heavy praise, denial, spit, finger sucking, hair pulling, pussy slapping, mirror
♡ a/n: little treat for the middle of the week. been working on this one for a while so it got a little long,, so sorry. finished this instead of writing my research paper,, butttttt i love writing for caleb so i hope u enjoy xx
You're taking a lot longer than usual to get ready. Nothing seems to be fitting right, every outfit looking worse than the last. Maybe you should just stay home tonight, or maybe, you Caleb needs to remind you just how beautiful his girl is.
“Hey, did you need me to iron something for you? I was gonna’ do my shirt, so—” You listened, turning towards the bathroom door as the honeyed voice came to a halt. There he was, leaning against the wooden door frame, muscled torso on full display, dog tag draped around his neck and glistening in the dim lighting, a white collared dress shirt draped over his shoulder. His pants were held up by a fine leather belt that hung loosely around his hips, the buckle undone. The smell of his cologne wrapped around you, notes of cedarwood and lavender softly calming your otherwise hectic state. The bathroom was a mess, makeup brushes strewn about on the marble countertop, clothes and bras and panties thrown in the corner, heels that didn't match were all over the floor, making for a minefield of a space that you'd been moving around for the last two hours.
“No, I’m good. Thanks.” His brow furrowed at the abnormally dry response, violet eyes studying you as you frantically hurried around the small space, makeup and hair both half done. The dress that he’d seen you in only five minutes earlier was balled up near a pile of purses on the tiled floor now, your skin only covered by a matching black lace set. He was almost drooling at the sight, opting to bite his full bottom lip to keep himself from doing so.
“Everything okay, baby?” His tone was cautious, testing the temperature of the water. You didn’t bother to meet his gaze, too busy wracking your brain to put together a different outfit—or maybe you needed to change your hair? Should you even bother going at all? Maybe you should suddenly pretend to have a stomachache.
“I’m fine, just rushed.” Another short answer.
“There’s no rush, sugar. They can’t start without us after all.” You gave him a soft laugh, brushing off the comment, but he was right. This night was about him after all—a ceremony awarding him for his accomplishments with the fleet this past year. He’d been going over his speech with you tirelessly every day for the last week, picking apart every line one by one until it was perfect. This was Caleb’s night, so why were you the one feeling so much pressure?
“Hey, look at me for a second.” You did, eyes meeting his in the mirror as you ran another coat of red lipstick over your bottom lip, suddenly questioning the color.
“You can tell me if something's wrong ya’ know. We don’t have to go.” You shook your head in dismissal, breaking the eye contact that was quickly making something well up in your chest, tears stinging in the corner of your eyes against your will.
“Of course we have to go, Caleb. I’m going—I want to go, I’m just trying to hurry up.”
“What was wrong with the last dress? Or the four before that?” He wasn’t teasing but genuinely asking you as he searched for your attention in the mirror again, to no avail. A single tear fell from your eye, effortlessly ruining your makeup, a line of foundation erased as you tried not to let anymore escape.
“They just weren’t right. Nothing is fitting right for some reason.” He wasted no time moving over to you, shirt falling to the floor in the process, but he didn’t care. His eyes were locked on you, noticing the way your face slowly crumpled, head hanging as if there was a thousand-pound weight holding you down.
“Don’t cry, baby. Hey, hey, shh…” His arms wrapped around you, toned chest pressing into your back, the warmth of his skin inescapable as he held you as tightly as he could. Your body gently shook against him as you let the tears fall freely now, the thought of ruining Caleb’s night making your heart even heavier.
“You could wear a burlap sack and you’d still be the most beautiful thing in any room, you know that, right? Why are you being so mean to my pretty girl, hm?” His soft palm snaked it’s way across your chest and neck, cupping your wet cheek, sticking your skin to his. He gently guiding your chin up, your reflection staring back at his now.
“Tell me what you didn’t like about the pink dress.” You subconsciously shrunk against him at the question, the visual of your bare skin against him, only covered by the thin pieces of fabric sending shivers down your spine. The little hairs on the back of your neck stood up, ears growing hot—you were so vulnerable like this.
“Be honest with me this time. Please,” he said, voice thick and syrupy like molasses, almost like he was begging as he craned his head down, resting his chin in the crook of your neck and pressing a feather-light kiss to your face.
“My- my shoulders…they looked too wide in it.” His eyes grew big at the confession before they shifted down in the mirror, locking onto your shoulders. He left another kiss on your cheek, then your jaw, next your neck, trailing them across your collar bone before his full lips finally lingered against the back of your shoulder. Your head slowly fell again, before you heard his voice,
“Don’t look away, sugar.” You watched his slender fingers graze across your skin, faintly dancing over your shoulder blades along with his lips which were still peppering kissing over your frame. Your breath hitched at the sight of his body against yours, his tall and muscular physique towering over you, making you look so fragile in his grasp.
“What was wrong with the red outfit, hm? I think I liked that one the best.” Your eyes rolled at the question which Caleb caught in the mirror. You hated the way you looked in the red dress. The outfit accentuating every curve, the short length hugging your thighs just a little too tightly. You felt so… naked in that dress—every flaw you’d seen in the mirror on full display in that gown.
“My body just doesn’t look good in it.”
“Your body looks amazing in anything. If I didn’t think I’d want to break the bones of any man that looked, I’d suggest you go just like this.” His eyes were not the same when they met yours this time. They were dark, pupils enlarged, darkening his irises. He looked hungry at the sight of you, like a vampire that hadn’t fed in weeks. His lips watered at the thought of devouring you, getting to see sweat glistening on your bare chest, nipples hardened under his rough fingertips, back arched as he pressed himself into you. The thing he loved the most though was your faces, your bottom lip almost bleeding from how hard your teeth grinded against it as you tried to silence your moans, tears welling up at the corners of your eyes that were desperate to escape once he hit just the right spot inside of your soft walls. Your face and body were the things he dreamed about in his sleep, but they were also what would keep him up at night while you were away. They were the things that made him fist his cock, eyes shut tight as he pictured the artwork known as his girl. He was ravenous for you—always, so why couldn’t you see what he did? Why didn’t the lamb understand what made the lion so hungry for it; what made him hunt day and night just for a taste.
You couldn’t help but notice the way his clothed cock hardened against you. He didn’t grind into you like you wanted, his focus instead on getting his fingers on every inch of you. Your gaze fell again, embarrassment heating your cheeks at the sight of his digits languidly sliding underneath the cups of your bra.
“I won’t tell you again. Look up.” You did. You core grew wetter, dampening the fabric of your panties at the contact.
“You know…” His free hand ghosted over your spine, causing you to shiver at his touch as he unclasped your bra, freeing your flesh. A small moan escaped his lips at the reveal, his fingers quickly found your breasts, large hands cupping them, much to his enjoyment.
“I’d kill anyone who talked bad about you. I would never let anyone speak about my girl the way that you do.” A harsh pinch to your nipple forced your chest to push out towards the mirror, your perfect French manicure gripping the edge of the marble countertop. The sight was absolutely sinful.
“So why do you think that you should be the exception, huh? Do you think you’re above the rules?” Caleb rolled your sensitive nipples between his fingers, reveling in the way you writhed beneath his touch.
“No…” You whined, head slowly falling forward at the sensation, you body going limp against his.
“No? Apologize then.” His voice was harsh suddenly, as you felt your muscles give way, gaze being forced back to the mirror against your will as he used his evol against you. He did say he wouldn’t ask again, instead, he would make you look.
“I-I’m sorry,” It was barely audible, strained out between your soft moans as you pushed your ass against the man behind you, unabashedly wanted to feel some sort of friction between your thighs.
“No no no, not to me. Apologize to my baby, hm? Look at her and say you’re sorry for being mean.” You tried to turn your head away at the humiliating request, but it was no use, you were practically immobilized between his arms. You looked at yourself in the mirror, body laid bare, chest heaving, ass grinding against Caleb like a bitch in heat.
“I’m sorry for being mean.”
“Aww how nice. See I knew you could be sweet. You always listen so well, my obedient pretty girl.” His right hand left your chest feeling cold as his middle and index fingers found themselves pressed against your lips.
“Get 'em wet for me, baby. Go ahead, it’s okay.” So you listen—you let your lips part, sucking his fingers between them, running your tongue in circles around his knuckles as he slides them in and out of your mouth. “Fuck… you look so good.”
“You want my fingers somewhere else? Been grinding this pussy against me like you need something. Do you want me to make you feel good, hm? Will that make my pretty girl stop crying?” He was mocking you, reveling in the way you squirmed against him as he pressed your hips into the counter.
“Caleb… please,” You said, words muffled by his thick fingers pushing down against your tongue, your saliva dripping halfway down his arm at this point.
“But you’re so mean, baby. Only nice girls get treats. Are you gonna be nice from now on? Gonna' treat my pretty girl better?” He watched as your reflection nodded up and down, pretty little eyes closed tightly, nose scrunched up like a bunny. He was in awe at this sight—he almost wanted to give you your reward without making you work for it...almost.
“Answer me, baby. C’mon, be good for me… please,” His words were strained, like he was getting off just as much as you were without him even being touched. It made your knees buckle a little beneath you, forcing your limp fingers to grip around his forearm, desperately searching for some stability.
“Yes yes I’ll be nice. I promise. Just touch me please.” With that, he pulled his fingers out of your mouth, your spit glistening around his digits as they traveled slowly down your body, leaving you painted in your own wetness.
“You have the most beautiful body I’ve ever seen, you know that?” He pressed a soft kiss to your neck as his wet fingers slid beneath the waistband of your panties.
“Fuck this pussy’s so wet already. I can feel your little clit’s already excited, she’s so swollen. Aw, does it hurt, baby?” His muscled thigh forced its way between your legs, spreading them wider as his fingers lightly toyed with your most sensitive spot, soaked fingers rubbing on each side of your clit. Your hole clenched around nothing, juices spilling out against the fabric, desperately wanting to be filled—hungry.
“Look so pretty when you don’t get what you want though. Maybe this is all you should get, huh? After all, mean girls shouldn’t be rewarded, should they?” You squirmed even more at his words, trying to force his fingers to move faster or press against you harder—something. Caleb was having none of it though, his big hand gripping your waist, pinning you still. Whines fell from between your lips at the denial.
“Didn’t you just say you would be good? Were you lying to me again or does this messy hole between your legs make it so you can’t think straight? Don’t tell me my fingers barely touching you makes you this dumb, sugar. That’s cute… but a little pathetic, don’t you think?” He sloppily kissed your skin between words, teeth nipping against the flesh, tongue lapping at your wounds only to bite into you again.
“I guess you can’t think. Is that it? You need me to tell you what to do, hm?” You nodded uncontrollably, that heavy weight moving your muscles against your will once again.
“My pretty girl with the sloppy cunt. Say it.” His thumb found your clit now, hovering over it, just barely touching the aching button… but it wasn’t enough. It wouldn’t be enough until you did what he told you to.
“Caleb please…”
“No more whining. If you’re not saying what I told you to then you shouldn’t be speaking at all. Say you’re my pretty girl.” He freed your waist, certain that you wouldn’t disobey when he had you like this—so pliable. His hand made it’s way to your half-undone hair now, gripping it, as he pushed your face closer to the mirror, your body bent over the sink, reflection painfully close.
You said it… but not the way he wanted you to. Your eyes were on him, words barely audible, attitude palpable through the statement. Without warning the warmth of his fingers on your cunt was quickly gone as he slipped his fingers out of your panties to deliver a swift slap to your clit over the fabric. You screamed out at the painful sensation, which only resulted in another smack against your cunt.
“Do it the right way. Look at my girl while you tell her she’s pretty and mean it.” You looked at your reflection, chest bare, sweat staining your skin, hair messy from the way Caleb’s fingers gripped it forcing you not to look away. Your eyes were glazed over, lipstick smudged onto your chin—you were a mess, but you said it.
“I- I’m your pretty girl.” Not even a second passed after the words left your lips before Caleb slid the crotch of your panties to the side, fingers pressing all the way against you now. His middle finger, still wet from the impromptu blowjob you’d given it, made it’s way into your tight hole inch by inch.
“See what happens when you’re not a fucking brat? Don’t you know that only good girls get what they want?” You nodded, your head feeling fuzzy as his thick finger forced itself between your walls, its length allowing him to brush against your g-spot with hardly any effort.
“Say it again.” You did, looking yourself in the eyes once more.
“That’s right. You’re my pretty girl who listens so well. My god you are fucking prefect.” You were rewarded with another finger amongst the praise, but he hadn’t touched your clit again. He knew that the second he did, you would fall apart in his arms. He just wasn’t quite done playing with you yet.
“Aw my baby gets so fucking dumb when her holes get filled. How cute… you having trouble with your words again? What is it, sugar? Come on, tell me, you can do it.” His lips were so close to your ear as he spoke, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine. His tone was sweet, slightly higher in pitch, as if he were calling out for a stray dog to come eat a treat out of his palm. The condescending sound made you whine out once again, just like a puppy would.
“Aww am I not giving you what you want? Am I being mean to you?” His fingers quickened as he watched you pant, your palms flattened out against the mirror as he rocked you back and forth against his hand.
“Caleb please touch me.”
“I’m already touching you silly girl? What is it, did you want a kiss?” The thought of getting to feel his lips on yours as his fingers fucked harder into you, his tongue lapping at yours, brought more tears to your eyes.
“Yes. Please ‘wanna kiss so bad.” He pushed your head closer to your reflection, until your lips were only a millimeter from the mirror,
“Go on then. Give her a kiss—such a pretty girl deserves a kiss.” His cock ached in his pants against you as he watched it—the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen so desperate for his fingers that she was kissing herself in the mirror just because he’d said so.
“Goood girl. Good job being so sweet. Tell her you’re sorry again for hurting her feelings.” His thumb finally nudged against your clit again, slowly rubbing small little circles around it. The stimulation made you cry once more as he found just the right rhythm to keep you on the edge as apologies flowed from your lips.
“You must be getting close, beautiful. This little pussy is grippin’ on my fingers so tight. She doesn’t wanna let me go. Do you need to cum, baby?”
“Yes yes wanna cum so bad for you.”
“Aw I know I know. It’s okay. I’ll stop being mean to you since you’ve been so sweet. Tell me where you wanna cum, sugar.” The question only made you squeeze him tighter, your sloppy hole clenching and spasming around his fingers and you pressed your lips to the mirror once more, leaving little red kiss marks all over the reflection of your face. Your hips free now, you pushed into his cock again, grinding against the fabric of his pants, leaving an even bigger wet spot than before.
“No no no, you can’t have my cock. This is about you, just wanna make you feel good, yeah?” You whined louder at the denial, your voice trembling as you shook from your sobs.
“Don’t cry anymore, baby. I’ll do you one better yeah?” He pulled his fingers out of you slowly, despite the fight your hole tried to put up in keeping him inside. His hand’s grip on your hair was gone, but not before he used it to force you to turn towards him for the first time. He lowered himself to his knees, rough hands gently grabbing your thigh as he placed it over his shoulder.
“You are a fucking goddess,” he whispered as he brought his mouth between your legs, placing tiny kisses on the inside of your thighs. “Shouldn’t I pay my respects?” He wasted no more time getting his tongue on your cunt, pushing your lips apart as he savored your juices in his mouth. Your fingers tangled into his hair now, pushing your hips into his face as he gripped your thigh even tighter making you moan out at the mix of pain and pleasure. You were already so close, the feeling of Caleb suckling on your puffy clit, the rhythm just how he knew you liked it, made you beg to cum once more in no time.
“So fucking gorgeous, grinding on my tongue. Go on, say it one more time for me. Say you’re my pretty girl. Say you’ll never be mean to yourself again and I’ll let you cum for me.” He looked up at you as the words spilled out of your mouth just like he said, the look on your face intoxicating as you screamed out his name.
“Gooood girl you can cum for me. C'mon pretty girl, cum in my mouth, it’s okay. You earned it.” He held you still, tongue continuing to harass your poor little clit as you writhed above him. Your legs gave out, quivering as he continued to lick up the mess you’d made.
“Don’t worry, baby. I got you. Keep cumming for me, let it all out,” he said, voice sweet once again as he steadied you with his hands and you rode out the rest of your orgasm.
“You did so good. I’m so proud of you.” He pressed one more kiss to your clit, as you finished coming down, your body finally feeling steady in his arms. He stood up, towering over you once again, face wet with your juices as he held your fingers between his. His other hand cupped your face, thumb softly wiping away your tears.
“I love you more than anything and I want you to know that you have nothing to be insecure about. Even if you’re not feeling your best, you can always talk to me and I’ll remind you of just how beautiful you are. Okay?” You nodded, looking up at him with big eyes, your heart hurting in your chest from how full it felt in that moment.
“I love you, Caleb.”
“I can tell because you let me ruin your makeup when we only have…” He glanced over at my phone on the countertop, “thirty minutes before the car gets here.”
“Thirty minutes?” You shouted out, pushing against Caleb’s chest.
“You’ll be fine. I’ll make them wait,” he said, reaching down to pick up the white dress shirt that had been previously discarded onto the floor.
“And hey, put on that red dress. I’ll need something pretty to look at while everyone else is droning on about how great I am.” You rolled your eyes, letting out a laugh that perfectly harmonized with his as you threw the balled up dress towards him.
“Now you’ll have to iron them both.” He hummed in acceptance, violet irises glimmering at the sight of you.
“Anything for you, gorgeous.”
#love and deepspace#l&ds#l&ds caleb#l&ds x reader#l&ds x you#lads caleb#lads smut#lnds#lnds caleb#love and deepspace smut#lads x reader#love and deepspace fic#lads x you#love and deepspace x reader#caleb x mc#caleb smut#caleb x you#caleb x reader#lnds smut
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neighbour! clark kent x new girl! reader
SYNOPSIS: when your car breaks down right as you need to pick up a friend in metropolis, clark offers to give you a ride (not the type you want) and you step up your game.
everyone thank my writer's block, because if not for that, this would never have been as out there as it is. like if i'd released this half a week ago, it would not be anywhere near this level. i still had writer's block while grinding this out, so every question of where to go next was answered with 'make it HORNIER'. and you're welcome.
WARNINGS: mentions of road head, brief palming, accidental crotch grab, innuendo, clark is perpetually horny and shameful (who isn't?), he's still so down bad and needs loving desperately. (someone let this boy get RAILED (that's my job, really, but i promise i've got one more chapter idea before he FUCKS))
part one! part two! part three!
You sigh frustratedly as you lift the hood of your car to try to gauge the problem. Perhaps the problem was that the car was old as hell, just repainted and spruced up a little to give the illusion that it was simply vintage, not a second hand metal bag of parts.
“Everything okay?”
You look up to find Clark coming over. Whether it's good luck or not, you've broken down in front of the Kents house. No family nicer than the Kents exist. It's entirely possible. They're endlessly helpful. The problem, as always, is their gorgeous son.
It's hot out, he's been sweating enough to give him a particular entrancing sheen over his skin. And now you're frustrated for two very different reasons.
“No. Stupid car broke down,” you muttered, chest heaving in a sigh.
Clark’s gaze wanders, against his will. All of a sudden, he’s looking at your chest, the way your breasts have been pushed up by a combination of that gorgeous tank top and probably the bra beneath it. And now he’s thinking about your underwear. You in your underwear and nothing else. You standing in your underwear in front of him, begging for his help once again.
He closes his eyes firmly and looks away, mentally smiting himself. He can’t think about you like that. You’re his neighbour, his friend, and you’re in trouble.
He clears his throat, speaking in the hopes that he can distract himself from the sight of your cleavage and bare legs. “Okay, well, why don't we push it up to the house? We can take a look at it, see if we can get it started again. If not, at least it's not out in the road in the way.”
“Yeah, I guess. Thanks.”
And so the two of you manage to push your crappy car up to the front of the house, where Mr Kent joins you to take a look at it with Clark.
“Good news is, it's totally fixable. Bad news is, you'd need a mechanic to do it. We'll call them and they can tow it from here.”
You sigh, looking at your watch. “Damn it. I'm supposed to pick up my friend from the station in Metropolis in a couple of hours.”
“Well, I can take you in our car,” Clark suggests.
“You'd do that?” You ask, and he nods, charming smile still there. You grin, throwing your arms around his neck in a hug as his arms slide around your waist. “Thank you, Clark, you're a lifesaver.”
Clark can feel as the blush begins to set in. “Yeah, of course. We can get going as soon as you're ready to.”
“I'm ready now, if that's okay?”
“Yeah, absolutely.”
It’s not until you’re in the passenger seat and on the road that either of you speak again. “So, who’s your friend?”
“Just one of the girls from Central City. I told her she could visit once I was settled in. She’s fun, you’ll love her.”
You play with your hair, and it sends a fresh whiff of your scent in Clark’s direction. He doesn’t know if it’s perfume or shampoo, but he knows he’s already addicted. You cross one leg over the other, and fold your arms. Clark glances over, a moment of weakness that he hates himself for. It’s like he wants to punish himself. Something in him that says that if he’s going to think like this, he can go unsatisfied and hurting. It’s not logical. In fact, he knows that looking is the one indulgence he’ll allow himself. A brief glance that he won’t let linger, thoughts he’ll bury as long as possible.
“I’m sorry about your car,” he says, in an attempt to distract himself from your bare legs and accentuated cleavage.
You smile a little. “Don’t worry about it. Thank you for helping.”
“Yeah, don’t mention it.”
“No, really, Clark, thank you,” you say, turning towards him and leaning over the console in the centre, hands resting on it and pushing your breasts up and together. “You’re always there whenever I need you. You’re so good, Clark.” He’s going to explode again. “Really. I can’t thank you enough.”
Yet again, your attempts seem to have been either obliviously ignored or politely rejected, as Clark doesn’t respond to them. Granted, this was one of your more low-key comments, but he hasn’t even glanced at your tits, and they’re right there!
So you decide to double down. Test to see if he’s just oblivious, awkward, or not interested.
One of your hands lands on his thigh. He blinks, but doesn’t look at you. “You’re so helpful, Clark. Always happy to help when I need you. And I always need you. There has to be some way for me to repay you.” Your hand travels further up his thigh. In an ideal world, you’d be giving him road head right now, not halfway to it.
Clark finally looks at you, his cheeks a little flushed, and as he turns his head, his gaze lands right on your chest.
Immediately, though, a car horn sounds, and Clark’s eyes dart back onto the road in time to swerve back into his own lane. The road had been totally empty for a while now, it hadn’t even occurred to him that eventually they had to run into someone.
He blinks heavily. “Sorry. I’m sorry.”
You smile, eyes bright with mischief. “For the nearly dying? Or the other thing?”
“Uh, both. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”
You giggle. “It’s okay, Clark. Really, you’re fine. More than fine.”
Your hand is still on his upper thigh, a dangerous place. A bump in the road underneath the right front wheel jolts you, and your hand accidentally slips onto Clark’s crotch, applying pressure. His eyes go wide as saucers, a strangled noise barely escaping him before he gets a hold of his vocal cords.
“Oh!” You gasp. “I’m sorry, Clark!”
You pull your hand off, returning to your side of the car. That had slightly ruined your entire plan. It was a total accident. You hadn’t meant to straight up grab the guy. Just tease him a little. Shit.
When you get out of the car at the Metropolis station to go find your friend, Clark takes the opportunity to do some breathing exercises, and uses the cover of his jacket to his advantage, palming at himself to relieve the ache a little for now. He bites the inside of his cheek to suppress the urge to make some sort of sound. He doesn’t know what it’ll be, and he’s alone in the car, but whatever it is, it’ll be embarrassing enough even if he’s the only one to hear it. So instead he just breathes a little irregularly, head tilted back a little against the headrest.
He sees your friend with you as you approach the car again, and he tears his hand away from himself begrudgingly. Your friend has a grin on her face, eyes wide with excitement as you both talk with equal enthusiasm.
You join her in the back this time, probably for the best, but you’re still on the opposite side of the car to him, so he sees you easily in the mirror, and all he needs to do is turn his head a little and let his peripheral vision do the rest.
“Oh, you’re so right,” your friend says, and you shush her despite your giggling.
taglist;
@blueeweeb
@ssnapsaurus
@artyandink
@i-got-a-bad-feeling-about-this
@milestellerismybf
@purple-1995
@writergiih
@elysianrosie
@glennussy
#muse: clark#smallville clark kent x reader#smallville clark kent#clark kent x reader#clark kent imagine#clark kent smut
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Tw: unprotected sex, rough sex, jealousy, mild abuse, insults, reader bimbo.
Yandere bf! Jock who is the star captain of the school's football team.
He is truly the golden boy.
With his gorgeous smile, blue eyes, and dirty blonde hair. He is surrounded by girls constantly, beautiful girls but he only has eyes for his dumb cute cheerleader girlfriend, YOU.
Always sucking his dick before a game letting him film you as he cums all over your face, pumping his cock until ropes of thick cum paint your face ruining your makeup and staining your hair, he rubs his cock against your shiny lips.
“Ugh– that was so good– what do you say sweetie?”
“Thanks for cumming on my face daddy~”
He smiles when he sees you cheering him on during the game jumping up and down, he licks his lips when he sees your cute little ass and tits bouncing in that tight uniform, you wiggle your pom poms vigorously and blow him a kiss when you see him looking at you. So fucking sweet.
The one who fucks you in the empty locker room after every game, fucking you sweetly when he wins, sucking on your tits, leaving kisses and bites all over your neck as his cock buries deep inside you, he murmurs sweet nothings against your ear.
“Such a pretty girl– so sexy when she cheers on her man”
“God your pussy wants some attention, should I rub it? Of course she wants to fuck– she begs me to rub it”
“I'm gonna give you the best orgasm of your life babe, you'll be full of my cum until next week– Ha”
Oh... but when the team loses he's completely different.
Like now.
He drags you down the halls walking straight to the locker room pushing you inside roughly ignoring your whimper of pain as he locks the door, you rub your arm and try to talk to him “Baby that hurts–”
“Shut the fuck up bitch! What the fuck was that out there?! Were you flirting with the captain of the other team?!”
His voice is filled with anger, he looks at you with furious eyes and you try to back away when he gets closer which seems to annoy him more, he grabs you by the arms pushing you face down on the bench and growls against your hatred.
“Answer me fuck! What the fuck were you doing talking to him? Do you want to bounce on his dick just because he won? Huh?!”
“No! I just wanted to be nice–”.
“Liar! Shit you want to drive me crazy, is that it?! I'm not an idiot I know what I see!”
He yells at you not even letting you finish, he pulls down your extra shorts and panties hard scratching your legs, his hand quickly pulls out his cock the vein running through it is swollen and the weeping tip is red.
“I'm gonna fuck you until you come to your senses you stupid girl. There's no one like me! I'm the only one who would want a girl as dumb as you!”
With that he rams you in all the way, his cock touching your cervix and his balls slapping against your ass, he fucks you mercilessly as his hands squeeze your ass cheeks his fingers dig into your skin tomorrow you'll have bruises.
“Silly girl, acting like a whore... like she doesn't have her man watching her”
Annoyed murmurs escape his lips as he pounds into you like an animal in heat, you let out high pitched moans hiding your face in your arms, he fucks you like he wants to rearrange your insides. Your eyes roll back with each thrust that abuses your G-spot.
“Who’s the only one for you? Come on tell me who’s fucking you so good?”
He asks between gasps and grunts clearly getting close to the edge, your dumb brain takes a while to understand his question not being able to think of anything else but his cock deep inside your pussy, you reply between moans.
“You! You’re the only one for my daddy! You, you, you!”
“Good girl, at least you’re smart about something~”
Your walls clench at his words and you squeeze your eyes shut, your skin is hot and you feel fire in your veins, the orgasm is approaching and your toes curl as you cum your love juices wet his cock.
He growls as your walls clench tightly around his throbbing cock and as his body tenses with the impending orgasm he pulls out of your pussy pumping furiously as he explodes, covering your ass and back with his hot cum that stains your top.
“Shit— that was great, that's a nice pussy you have baby”
He says as he smears his cum all over your back and ass with his fingers and you hum tiredly but happily, the moment interrupted when someone tries to open the closed door, the handle turning vigorously.
“What are you doing in there? Open the door right now!”
Damn it, it's the coach...
#dark fic#dark!fic#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere male#reader insert#female reader#tw dubcon#reader#yandere jock#boyfriend smut#yandere boyfriend#x reader#yandere smut#smut#dark smut#smut imagine#tw dubious consent
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Can I have a smut request dad's friend sangwoo x reader. Reader is being a brat and not doing her homework, sangwoo "punish" reader while making her answer the questions for her homework 🫣. If she gets it wrong he will slap and pinch her ass until she gets it right. Overstimulation and daddykink plsss
You were sitting at your desk in your room, textbooks sprawled out in front of you, trying to focus on your homework. The house was quiet except for the occasional rustle of papers and the faint sound of a TV from downstairs where your dad and his friend, Sangwoo, were watching some sports game.
Sangwoo had always been around; he was your dad's best friend from college, and he had this aura about him, a mix of authority and allure. His visits were something you looked forward to, not just because he brought interesting stories, but because of how he looked at you, with a knowing, mischievous smile.
Tonight, however, was different. Your dad had been called away for an urgent work matter, leaving you alone with Sangwoo. He decided to stay, offering to help you with your homework.
"Need some motivation?" Sangwoo's voice was deep, almost a whisper as he leaned over your shoulder, his breath warm against your ear.
You nodded. “Yes, please..”
"How about this," he suggested, his tone playful yet with an edge of seriousness, "for every question you get wrong, you get a little... punishment."
You looked up at him, your heart racing. "What kind of punishment?"
He smirked, his eyes darkening with an unspoken promise. "Let's say... a spank for each mistake."
The air in the room seemed to thicken as you agreed, turning back to your homework with new tension in your body. The first few questions went well, but then you hit a snag. You looked up at Sangwoo, who had been watching you intently.
"Wrong," he said, his voice steady. He lifts your skirt up to reveal the side of your ass.
His hand came down, not too hard but with enough force to make you gasp. The heat from the contact spread across your skin, igniting a fire within you that you knew was wrong but felt so right.
Another wrong answer, another spank. Each one was like a spark to kindling, each touch more intense, his hand lingering longer each time. You found yourself making mistakes on purpose, craving his touch, the sting, the acknowledgment.
By the time you were halfway through your homework, you were flushed, your breath coming in short gasps. Sangwoo was behind you now, his hand resting on your lower back, his touch more of a caress than a punishment.
"Seems like you're learning," he murmured, his lips close to your ear. His voice was thick with something unspoken, a desire that mirrored your own.
“What if I want to get them all wrong?”
His eyes met yours, blazing with an intensity that made your knees weak. "Then we'll have to find a new way to motivate you," he said, his hand trailing down your side, promising more than just homework help.
“Next question.” He growls. You read the textbook.
"Explain the complex factors that led to the French Revolution and how it impacted European politics,"
Your heart drops, you always get stuck on this one. “I-I don’t know..” you mutter. You expect him too spank you again but he doesn’t.
His hand moves to your inner thigh, resting there. “It’s fine. Next question.”
The next few questions go pass easily. “How about this?” His hand moves into your panties, stroking your folds. You gasp softly.
“For every question you get wrong, I stop.” He says, slipping 2 fingers into your sopping cunt. You look at him with wide eyes and he motions his head towards the textbook. You gulp and go back to answering questions.
He starts to slowly pump his fingers in and out of you, making it hard for you to get the questions right. You get a question wrong and he pulls his fingers out.
“If you want me to keep going, beg daddy.”
“Please, daddy..please..?” You whine.
That set him off. He slams your textbook closed and shoves his fingers back into you, pumping roughly. He stands behind the chair, smirking as you throw your head back to look up at him.
You gasp and grab his wrist, your hips lifting off the chair. “Aw, are you gonna cum for daddy?”
“I-I’m gonna cum for daddy!”
He speeds his fingers up, causing your juices to splatter everywhere. You gasp as you cum on his fingers. You expect him to stop but he doesn’t, he keeps fingering you.
“D-daddy!” You shout. “What? Can your cunnie not take it?” He teases.
You close your legs around his hand, making him growl. He spins the chair to face him and forces your legs back open. He continues to roughly finger you. Your eyes roll into the back of your head.
“Oh my fucking god!” You whine. He pulls his fingers out before slapping your clit. “Language.” He mutters before fingering you again.
“Daddy! I can’t take it!” You squeal. He lets out a deep chuckle that send shivers down your spine. “Yes, you can. Just be grateful I’m fucking your cunt with my fingers and not my dick.”
He rips another orgasm from you, making you squeal. He smirks, pulling his fingers out and rubbing your slick on your inner thigh. He slaps your tit and you yelp.
You sit there, panting as he walks out of the room
#sangwoo x gihun#sangwoo squid game#jaeyoung x sangwoo#sang woo x reader#cho sangwoo#218 x 456#player 218#nam gyu smut#thanos squid game#squid game smut#thanos smut#nam gyu squid game#thanos x nam gyu#dae ho squid game#hwang inho#smut#the salesman x reader#park haesoo
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i. headlock - g.g. + g.r.
pairing -> fem!driver reader x gr63 (platonically)
word count -> 4.6k
warnings -> brocedes parallels, marijuana use, cursing, ANGST, so much ANGST, gut-wrenching heartbreak, lots of tears, slight toxicity, a falling out between two friends and teammates, alcohol usage, smut. basically every warning in the book!
a/n -> this is anon that started all of this. i do not apologize for the person that this concept has made me become. and i do not apologize for this fic. anon, ily. thank you for pulling me from the trenches of writer's block. <3
december 31st, 2025
“start from the beginning.”
“i’m not really sure if i want to–”
a hand floats across the cushion, trembling slightly.
it settles on top of yours, his fingers curling, squeezing the clammy skin.
he exhales a shaky breath, lashes fluttering as a tongue swipes along his lower lip. as he makes out the words, you can’t help but make out the golden glimmer in his mocha depths. they’re inviting, begging you to fall further and further in as he brings your knuckles to his mouth, shallow breaths fanning against heated skin.
his voice is soft, rich with notes of comfort. a sound you forgot you missed, the coziness of bliss rippling in your chest as he speaks.
“please. for me.”
292 days prior
“golden girl, what are you looking forward to most this season with mercedes?”
blinking, you clear your throat, leaning into the microphone, “you were speaking to me, right?”
the reporter scoffs, rolling her eyes, “who else would i refer to as ‘golden girl’?”
“easy there,” lewis cuts in, flashing a dazzling grin, “any one of us could be golden girl. especially this season. one of us could shine any given weekend.”
“he’s just saying that because he’s in that ferrari bullshit,” a giggle bubbles up in your throat as you shoot lewis a wink. yet, the realization washes over you, eyes widening, “oh fuck! did i just curse?”
“twice,” laughter erupts as max licks his lips, fighting a devious smirk, “hey someone call the fia on this lady! she’s cursing up a storm! where are the stewards so we can ensure she’s dealt with?”
“miss america,” another voice interjects, “will you just answer this poor woman’s question? she’s been waiting nearly three minutes now.”
your gaze falls on george, who happens to be visibly annoyed, toying with the zipper on his jacket, “yes, but only because you asked so politely.”
“thank you,” the british driver simply nods in response, his gaze fixated on his jacket.
you and lewis share a glance, the ferrari driver a bit unnerved by the sudden shift of energy. silence settles over the space, the attention honing in on you once again. squirming in your seat, you shrug, gnawing on your lower lip.
“i mean, i feel like there are a lot of things to look forward to this season now that i’m with mercedes. i really feel like i’m at home, and toto has been extremely encouraging and welcoming. the team has been open to all of the ideas i’ve pitched, and care about my input. and i can’t forget george. he’s been absolutely wonderful. i look forward to working with him, as we have a pretty good friendship off the track. and if i may add, he can whip up some tasty beans on toast.”
beside you, lando snickers, bringing his hand to his mouth. lewis shakes his head, mouth quivering. more chuckles rise from the crowd, yet george remains still, his jaw clenching.
too far? you mouth to lewis, who waves a hand.
not at all.
“thank you,” the reporter’s pen flicks as she jots down your response, “that’s all i have.”
“are we finished here?” ollie fights a yawn, “cause–”
“awwww, is the baby getting sleepy?” fernando chimes in, exaggerating a pout.
“yes, actually,” ollie nods, stifling a yawn, “very sleepy.”
“well that’s a wrap,” alex stretches as the media personnel shuffle about, filing out of the room, “i thought that was pretty productive. what about you guys?”
george tuts, folding his arms across his chest, “that was a waste of time.”
“oh come on,” alex frowns, “you didn’t like that, georgie?”
george mumbles a strand of words under his breath, rising to his feet, “i will see you all tomorrow for qualifying. have a good evening, and get some rest. you all need it, clearly.”
as the british driver makes his way through the array of chairs and tables, the remaining drivers linger, almost holding their breath. max is the first to break through the quiet, letting out a shaky breath.
“not quite sure what’s gotten into him lately.”
“he was like that a couple of months ago,” lando inhales sharply, “i think he’s just in his head, that’s all.”
“we’re all in our heads,” fernando clicks his tongue, “this is opening weekend.”
at the spaniard’s words, you can’t help but nod in agreement.
it was march 14th, 2025, the friday night before qualifying.
a mere forty-eight hours from the first race of the season.
twenty-four hours from now, the grid would be set.
in approximately twelve hours, you’d be soaring down the track for your first ever qualifying in a mercedes car.
a dream come true, really.
a dream that came with a cost.
following abu dhabi, bridges were burned.
actually, more like incinerated.
james did not take the move from williams to mercedes lightly.
as your move to mercedes became more and more of a reality for the team principal, the relationship between the two of you only grew more and more bitter. with each passing weekend, the snide remarks shifted into blunt, loaded statements. even when you won, it was never enough for james.
you were not fit enough for the world of formula one. your attitude was too sour. when you made mistakes, they were too costly. you would never become a champion at mercedes. toto was only filling your head with empty promises, just as he did with lewis. the upgrades they were making would not be able to compete with mclaren or ferrari. it would be years before mercedes could produce a car of championship caliber.
you would only be going where dreams were left to die.
that was the one statement that lingered.
no matter how many times toto attempted to squash it.
yet, with the start of the 2025 season, it promised nothing but new beginnings. a fresh start with the team you cherished ever since you were a little girl. over the course of the next nine months, you would be able to prove to the world that you were capable of securing that championship title.
it sounded easy enough when you thought about it, but saying it out loud was particularly challenging.
why were you so doubtful? what was holding you back? why was it so fucking difficult to picture yourself hoisting that trophy up high?
you could list a few reasons why.
max verstappen was the first.
throughout the entirety of last year, you were so confident. so sure of yourself. you managed to pull off one of the best starts of a season in your career, locking in a win weekend after weekend. you would have never imagined a more perfect start in the race to the championship. you sailed through jeddah. soared in miami. you even secured monaco.
the points were stacked, odds in your favor, as you were the favorite to win it all.
well, that was the case until spielberg.
spielberg was a shit show.
there really was not one particular person to blame for spielberg. the weather conditions were not entirely favorable that weekend. you were running off fumes from an eventful night with toto. there was a costly error in the team strategy that cost you several seconds from a podium. you couldn’t forget the time penalty either, which placed you near the bottom of the grid once everything was said and done.
george was the one who ended up winning austria, as max and lando collided in their fight for first.
from there, you fell into a funk. it was just an array of disappointing finishes. you barely made it to p2 some weekends, which cost you greatly in terms of the championship race.
in the end, it was max verstappen who sealed the deal in vegas.
it was a heartbreaking loss. gut-wrenching even.
it was one of the first times in your life where you felt truly and utterly defeated, fighting back tears as you ducked through the paddock, desperate to avoid the press. the headlines to follow were even lower blows, as your name was plastered everywhere and anywhere. you could barely log on to instagram or tik tok without reading scathing, horrific remarks.
there were demands that mercedes retract their deal with you. fans wanted you out of the paddocks for good. why even try when it was clear that you could not produce results? why were you even behind the wheel of a formula one car in the first place?
following vegas, part of you wondered if they were right. you would never be max. you could never compete with someone as gifted as him. you would never win a championship as long as he was on the grid. you would never make history. you were just a stupid woman with silly little hopes. going to mercedes would not automatically guarantee you the championship title. you would have to fight for it in a mediocre car just like everyone else on the grid.
perhaps you were icarus, who flew just a little too close to the sun.
as long as max verstappen was competing, you would never achieve greatness.
the second reason behind your doubts was mclaren.
it was not a secret that mclaren was a force to be reckoned with. securing the constructor’s title proved that.
those mclaren boys were starting to become a threat, the speed of the mclaren almost lethal. there were many instances in which you speculated if the car itself was legal, but it seemed to pass every inspection by the fia. without a doubt, oscar and lando were talented. but having a rocketship under your fingertips was certainly a bonus.
a bonus that you were envious of with each passing weekend.
yet, the idea of working with zak brown left a bitter taste in your mouth. it was enough to keep you from stepping foot in that ridiculous papaya paddock.
and the third? you didn’t really want to talk about it.
well, it did bubble up often. a little too much for your liking.
whenever those feelings resurfaced, you instinctively reached for the cartridge in your bag. you would inhale, exhale, and all of the sudden, those lingering ruminations would disappear, the high sweeping you up in its blissful embrace.
did you want to discuss those lingering thoughts? yes.
but could you? no.
well, lately, they weren’t thoughts.
they were starting to transform into an awful sensation. the sort of feeling that left you numb from head to toe, waves of guilt crashing over. the sort of sensation that sent you reeling, lying awake at night, reaching for that cartridge so you wouldn’t feel anything else.
you were going through those carts a little too much for your liking as of lately.
but as long as it distracted you from those thoughts, it didn’t matter.
luckily, the start of the season slowed you down. well, just enough.
making your way to the garage, you notice him pacing about, phone pressed to his ear. his brows are furrowed, knit together with concentration. his pristine polo is unbuttoned slightly more than it was a few hours ago, revealing a snowy white t-shirt underneath. the shirt clings to his skin, spanning across his toned chest.
as you get closer, you pick out the way the muscles in his forearm flex as he brings a hand to his chin, nodding along.
the moment you come into his line of sight, he murmurs a few hushed words, then proceeds to shove the phone into his pocket. you purse your lips, cocking your head. typically, you were greeted with a radiant smile, swept up into his arms for a tight hug. however, he is reserved, his lips etched in a deep frown, hands situated on his hips.
ducking your head, you avoid his stony gaze, “who was that?”
“the stewards,” you shrink slightly at the iciness inflected throughout his words, “it was about your drug test.”
“and?” your heart skips a beat, yet you maintain your composure, shrugging, “was there something abnormal or–”
“you tested positive for cannabinoids.”
“and?” you press, clicking your tongue, “what about it?”
the team principal tilts his head, a tongue swiping along his teeth, “why have you been hiding it from me?”
“that’s what you’re concerned about?”
toto nods, the intense eye contact picking you apart, almost as if he was studying every little move, every little inflection in your voice, “yes, that is what i’m concerned about. i do not give a fuck about the other shit that comes with this. i want to know why you were hiding it from me. you know i don’t care during the off-season and holidays. i encourage it, actually, as it seems to help keep your anxiety at bay.
but we are not on holiday. we are about to start the fucking season and here you are, prancing around with that ridiculous little pen. are you under the impression that the rules just don’t apply to you because of our relationship?”
“toto,” you swallow thickly, realizing that eyes are starting to wander, “can we please talk about this in private?”
“no,” to your dismay, he raises his voice several octaves, the sound carrying throughout the entire space, “you are not racing this weekend. kimi will be filling your seat instead. you have been suspended for three races.”
in that moment, you want nothing more than to just sink into the floor, disappearing from the stares that are now lasered in, focusing on nothing else but the lover’s quarrel in the middle of the garage.
that’s when the terror starts to seep in.
you would not be able to race this weekend. you would have to sit on the sidelines, barred from earning points. you would not get that head start you needed so desperately in order to get ahead in the championship fight. you would have to play catch up the rest of the season to even compete for the title.
fuck. fuck. fuck.
you wanted to scream. you wanted to explode. you wanted to curse him out right then and there.
yet, your knees buckle, a wail rising in your throat.
your lower lip quivers, tears blurring your vision, “toto, can we just–”
“no excuses,” the team principal growls, “you may have been able to get away with this at williams, but i am not excusing this. you are going to face the consequences of your actions, whether you detest it or not.”
bringing a hand to your face, you attempt to wipe away a tear. yet, you realize it’s too late, as there were streams flowing down your cheeks, completely soaking through the fabric.
hanging your head, you exhale a shaky breath, “o-okay.”
“that’s it?” you recoil at the cruel taunt, “that’s all you have to say?”
“yes,” you mutter, “that’s all.”
to your dismay, he struts past, giving you one last sentiment.
“meet me in my office tomorrow morning at seven. if you’re a second late, i’m extending your suspension two more races. no exceptions.”
˗ˏˋ⋆. ݁₊˚. ݁⊹₊ ݁. ݁⋆˖˚₊ ݁. ⊹. ࣪ ˖ ✴︎ ˖ ࣪ .⊹ . ݁₊˚˖⋆ ݁. ݁₊⊹ ݁.˚₊ ݁.⋆ˊˎ˗
three knocks ring out in the night.
“hospitality! we have come to collect your bedding!”
grumbling, you get up on your feet, shuffling to the door. as your hand curls around the knob, you crack open the door, peering behind it.
before you stand alex and carlos, the pair bearing goofy smiles. in one of alex’s hands is a mysterious white paper bag, a bouquet of flowers in the other. at the sight of them, you nearly crumble, your throat tightening.
“h-hi guys.”
alex puckers his lips, “can we come in?”
“yeah,” you dip your head, pulling the door toward you, “come on in.”
“we just wanted to let you know that we’re proud of you,” alex gushes, making his way to your kitchenette, “since you’re accomplishing big dreams, we brought some of your favorite snacks and a couple of drinks.”
at the sight of the flowers, you can’t help but giggle, “where did you find those?”
“don’t worry about it,” carlos waves a hand, making himself comfortable on your couch, “where’s toto?”
the mere mention of his name sends your heart rate spiking, a sheen of sweat pooling in your palms, “h-he had some stuff to take care of before qualifying tomorrow.”
“you’re lying,” alex rolls his eyes, plopping down next to carlos, “what’s going on? and don’t act like everything is all fine and dandy because i know damn well things are not.”
sighing, you settle between alex and carlos, resting your head on alex’s shoulder, “i’m not racing this weekend.”
alex’s muscles tense, the words dangerously quiet as they flow from his mouth, “what happened?”
chewing on the inside of your lower lip, you shrug, “i got into some deep shit with the stewards.”
at that, alex straightens his spine, shifting his waist so that he was looking down at you, “what. happened.”
“i failed my drug test.”
“what?” carlos blinks, “why did you fail?”
sucking in a breath, you pause, trying to formulate some sort of response that wouldn’t trigger another meltdown.
i failed because i am starting to regret taking the mercedes seat. and i can’t stop fucking thinking about it. it takes up my brain space. i can’t even focus without my mind wandering. i don’t feel joy when i’m in that seat. i’m not sure if this hunger i have will ever be fulfilled if i stay in that seat. i don’t feel at home.
maybe james was right. maybe my dreams are going to just rot and die in that fucking car.
i feel like a fool.
i just can’t take it anymore.
i just can’t…
“apparently i tested positive for cannabinoids.”
“apparently or you did test positive?” alex presses, his voice soft as he wraps an arm around your shoulders, “you can be honest. you know we won’t say anything.”
“you can tell us,” carlos affirms, nodding fervently, “we just want to know what’s going on, in case we can help.”
i’m not sure if you guys can help.
“i’ve been high nearly every day for the last three months.”
“wait, pause,” alex clears his throat, putting up a hand, “every day?”
“well,” you exhale, “more like every night. i haven’t been able to sleep.”
“oh,” carlos leans back, bringing a hand to his chin, “that’s not unheard of.”
“thanks guys,” you melt into the cushion, groaning, “i’m feeling so much better about it.”
“i mean it’s pretty normalized in the states so i’m not judging,” alex brings you closer to him, squeezing you gently, “did you get one of those special forms from a psychiatrist or therapist authorizing you to use it for therapeutic purposes? i know that the fia sort of excuses it if it’s medicinal.”
“of course not,” you shake your head, “i’ve just been carrying it around with me. everywhere i go, it comes with.”
“how do you get past international flights?” the inquiry comes tumbling out of carlos’ mouth, earning a laugh from you.
“toto and i usually just fly private.”
“oh,” carlos licks his lips, “that makes sense.”
“why have you been having issues sleeping?” alex murmurs, resting his chin on your head, “do carlos and i need to come over every night and have sleepovers so that you’ll get some shut-eye?”
“i’m not too sure if i want to talk about that right now. can we just change the subject?”
you feel alex’s adam apple bob, as if he was going to pry, but he remains quiet. carlos crosses his legs, his hands resting on his lap. you expect alex to ignore your request, but he complies, a ripple of relief blossoming in your chest.
“how are things going with george? he seemed a wee bit uptight today.”
your jaw clenches, hands curling into tight fists.
of course alex was going to bring up george.
of course.
“things are going fine,” you pick at a loose thread on your sweatpants, “he’s been welcoming. we’re good friends, you know.”
“you sure about that?” alex coughs, “remember, we’re having honesty hour here. everything you say is confidential information.”
biting back a sharp retort, you snuggle into your hoodie, catching a whiff of toto’s cologne.
there’s a pang in your chest, tugging at your heart.
maybe you could gossip with them about the incident earlier. just to change the topic of conversation entirely.
maybe it would help you feel a little bit better to rant about your boyfriend for a good hour. maybe it would lift your mood slightly if you heard the words oh my god he’s such an asshole for that or what a dick! tell us more.
just maybe.
but would it make everything better?
would it really?
or would it just be like slapping a bandaid on a gaping wound? would it temporarily ease the pain that ate away at you, tearing you open from the inside?
there was no denying that when you made the move to mercedes, the way toto treated you changed.
but that was expected. he was your boss now. you were under his wing. things had to remain professional. no lines could be blurred, as it was stated in your contract. there was no room for special treatment.
he was the reason why you were here at mercedes. he was the one who was going to lead you to greatness. he was the one who promised he would fulfill your destiny.
he was the one who gifted mercedes with their messiah.
the one who was going to win them both the world driver’s championship and the constructor’s.
no matter the cost.
at least, that’s what he told you.
and that is what you were going to keep telling yourself.
even if it absolutely destroyed you, you were going to secure that title.
you had to. you just had to.
because now, there was no other way out.
there just wasn’t.
december 31st, 2025
“i am so fucking sorry.”
sniffling, you wrinkle your nose, “you have no reason to be sorry.”
“i am though,” your heart sinks as he brings his head up, gaze glossy from tears, “you should never be in that sort of position. ever. you should never have to feel like you need to destroy every part of yourself for a team. that’s just so fucking unfair.”
“i-i did that to my-myself though,” the words are mangled as you spit them out, shoulders trembling as you sob, “i signed that contract. i was the one who put myself in that position. it’s all my fault. it’s all my fucking fault.”
“hey,” his accent seeps through as his hand connects with your cheek, the pad of his thumb swiping away a droplet as it cascades down, “please don’t blame yourself. you have no reason to blame yourself. it’s not your fault.”
“then who do i blame?” you counter, “whose fault is it then?”
“it’s not entirely one person’s fault,” the words are tender as he leans in, “if you keep blaming yourself, you’re only going to spiral further and further down that dark path. here, let’s talk about something else for the time being. ask me something. anything.”
“okay,” you nod, “c-can i have a tissue?”
“of course,” a chuckle rumbles in the base of his throat. carefully, he leans to the right, plucking a tissue box off the table, “here, knock yourself out. use as many as you need.”
graciously, you pull a few tissues from the box, blowing into them. he offers you a small trash can, and you toss them into the bin. bringing your sleeves to your eyes, you swipe along your lashes, dousing the fabric. he murmurs something you can’t quite comprehend, fishing his phone out of his pocket.
“what do you say we order some food, yeah?”
“i’m not so sure if that’s a good idea,” you exhale, curling up into the couch cushion, “i’m not really hungry.”
“oh come on,” his knee nudges yours playfully, “you’ve been over here for almost three hours. you need something to eat.”
“i need a joint,” you grumble, ignoring the continuous buzzing in your pocket.
“good thing we’re in new york,” clambering to his feet, he shoots you a wink, “come on. let’s go for a ride. you need some fresh air.”
“can i drive?”
at that, the corners of his lips twitch, forming a wide grin, “of course you can drive. which car do you want to take?”
“what about the mclaren?”
“keys are on the island,” he motions his head toward the kitchen, “while you’re at it, start thinking about places where you want to eat.”
“that’s not fair,” you scoff, rolling your eyes, “if i drive, that means you choose where to eat.”
“you have a point there,” he ushers you out of the door, pulling it shut, “you have a point there.”
as he makes his way to the garage, your gaze rests on his arm as it stretches out behind him, his hand waving.
swallowing the lump in your throat, you find yourself intertwining your fingers together.
you shouldn’t be here.
the dozens upon dozens of missed calls and ignored texts proved that.
but fuck, did it feel right.
as if you were meant to be here.
for the first time in months, there was this feeling brewing within you, coming back to the surface.
it was peaceful, filling you up the brim with euphoria. reminiscent of that feeling of when you heard you father’s car pulling up in the driveway, or when your mom stopped by mcdonald’s on the way to kindergarten classes. it reminded you of that sensation you felt every time your plane pulled to a stop on that tarmac, surrounded by palm trees and cacti.
for the first time in months, you felt like you were home.
“since you’re driving, that means i’m aux,” his voice brings you back to earth, grounding you, “however, i’m making an exception. what do you want to listen to?”
“whatever you want to,” you shrug, climbing into the driver’s seat, “i’m not picky.”
“how about some adele?” he arches a brow, letting out a hearty laugh as you scowl, “i was just kidding. i know that’s probably the last thing you want to listen to.”
as you start the car, the engine roars to life. your eyes widen, and you can sense his smile as he leans over the center console, pointing out a few of the bells and whistles. his shoulder brushes against yours, sending heat flourishing into your cheeks as his hand guides yours to the gear shift.
“i-i’m sorry,” he whispers, “i’m getting too close.”
“is that such a bad thing?”
his chest heaves as you tilt your head, lashes fluttering as the tip of his nose brushes against yours, “no, but i need to keep my distance.”
all around you, the windows fog as his mouth ghosts over yours, “what if i want you to be this close?”
“it wouldn’t be fair,” the words tremble as you inch closer, “i-i shouldn’t–”
“you should–”
“mmm,” he hums, pulling away, “you need time, as much as you won’t admit it.”
“fuck you,” you mumble, feeling a pout form as he smirks, waggling a finger.
“you really though you could seduce me but nope! i am immune!”
“look up where the nearest dispensary,” your fingers curl around the gear shift, “please and–”
“i’m not letting that happen,” his attention is invested in his phone, scrolling through his apple music library, “okay, i found a good one. did you pick a place to eat?”
“no,” glancing over your shoulder, you ensure that there is nothing in sight as you reverse, foot hovering over the brake, “can we just drive around a little bit? i need some time to think.”
“yep!” he chirps, “under one condition, though.”
“and what’s that?” you hold your breath as you pull up to the gate.
“you tell me about george.”
˗ˏˋ⋆. ݁₊˚. ݁⊹₊ ݁. ݁⋆˖˚₊ ݁. ⊹. ࣪ ˖ ✴︎ ˖ ࣪ .⊹ . ݁₊˚˖⋆ ݁. ݁₊⊹ ݁.˚₊ ݁.⋆ˊˎ˗
let me know if you would like to be tagged! i plan on making this a three part miniseries! thank you for reading! ♡
#toto wolff x reader#formula 1 x reader#f1 x reader#toto wolff#george russell x reader#alkaline#alkaline: female driver! x toto wolff#toto wolff x y/n#alex albon#formula 1#carlos sainz#lewis hamilton
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Caleb Love and deep space thoughts- SPOILERS AHEAD
Second update of brain dumping my thoughts as I play through the game… this time entirely Caleb focused
Ok so I’ve been reading Caleb’s anecdotes, dates, every scrap of info that becomes available to me…. And holy shit he’s such a simp!
Man almost fucking died, was lost in space for 2 weeks, and he’s just like “haha hey pipsqueak! Yea secret training mission, sorry, I’m back online!” As he’s in a hospital bed. Like baby boy not letting mc know he almost died???? And then the card/memory/whatever it’s called where he’s sick, and she has to basically beg him all day to let her in? Man wants to be Superman for her. Seriously, he’s out here becoming a pilot cuz it would pay well and help provide for mc, and if anything happened he could just whisk her away.
He literally worships the ground mc walks on. Obsessed with the necklace he gave him, kissing the pendant before each flight, not letting her lift a finger at the house when it comes to chore type things, using his evol to win her plushies at the claw machine… also he’s soooo obviously into the domestic life with mc! His house is bare bones before the reunion. Then MC shows up and there’s the scene where he’s surrounded by boxes, setting things up….. I picture him totally kicking himself for not having everything set up sooner, bc he got a house just so she could move in. I see him just living in an apartment that’s part of the officer barracks. There’s no reason why he has a whole ass house if not for mc. He just didn’t expect her to have infiltrated his ranks as a spy and to pop up so soon…. But hey she’s here now and so he’s totally buying everything and having a hot ikea build sesh in that slutty little tank top of his.
Oh and you know he’s a cheeky idiot about the fact that mc picked his room when deciding where to stay. Like we got that from the gameplay obviously…. But I just want to take moment to appreciate how hard that man must have been grinning on the inside. I also think it’s so cute that mc really is just making his place a second home. She’s got a little garden going at his house! She talks about the little yellow flowers she planted there in one of the text messages, and when he mentioned restocking his snacks on a community post mcs already planning on raiding it.
Also he’s been so obsessed with her since they were kids. Like he’s got some weird amnesia brain trauma shit going on after his deep space incident, and he scored poorly on the mental health portion of his exams (not him answering the “what’s the greatest challenge with flight missions?” Question with “it’s hard to get home on time”), and I’m assuming he was also an experiment by ever like MC is (but I haven’t gotten to the point where I can say that for sure), but like. That isn’t why he’s the way he is. Man was out here protecting her from bullies, the thing where he’d buy two of everything for mc, think he said something like “I wanted to grow up to be the most loyal… well you know, I could be” LOYAL HUSBAND? But from the jump he’s been doing everything for her. It’s so interesting getting this background from all the memories and whatnot. Like he’s made it such a source of pride to take care of mc in every tiny way, and so when she says stuff about not needing him, or uh, I don’t remember what thing it was part of but she fixed some electronic and was like “damn that was easier than I thought, guess I gotta stop bugging you for every tiny little thing, I can just figure it out.” and he PANICS! Like no baby- that’s his comfort thing. No matter what else is going on, at least he can feel needed and wanted when you come playfully whining to him that you can’t find your favorite mug. He’s the walking advertisement for acts of service. Also one last thing.
Yall noticed how he put his hat on mc like right after the reunion? The only thing I could think of is what it means when you put on a guys cowboy hat. Like damn Caleb. She’s still in shock that you’re not dead. But get it ig.
#chattyluv#love and deepspace caleb#love and deep space#love and deepspace#lads#lads caleb#yandere caleb#yandere lads#lnds caleb#yandere blog#yandere#obsessive yandere#obsessive love#yandere love and deepspace
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Whumpee heard a car pull into the driveway. They hurried to kneel next to Whumper's chair at the dinner table.
"Master is late. They must have gotten food out", Whumpee sighed as they got into their begging position, "they normally don't share that type of food with me. Still, I can beg, and they may like it that I am already in position."
The door slammed in, causing Whumpee to jump. Several large uniformed personal poured into the house. Guns aimed at Whumpee.
Whumpee fell over fearfully and yelped.
"Please don't shoot. I'm a lowly slave... I didn't...", Whumpee looked down at a wet spot that had formed in their thin shorts, "m-my master.... didn't let me go to the bathroom yet", they looked up with embarrassment.
"What's your name?", one of the armored people commanded as they followed Whumpee's eyes to the accident.
"Whumpee", they answered, "my master isn't home."
The armored person looked over Whumpee. Bruises and scars were evident all over the visible parts on Whumpee's body.
Speaking of visible... they were barely clothed.
Whumpee whimpered.
"The house is clear. We only see the one person", a person yelled from a different part of the house.
"Why are your hands behind your back?", the person glanced around them.
Whumpee shook, "Master likes my hands tied behind my back. They've been like that for months. Only released for chores", Whumpee explained quickly, "please, where is my master?"
"We are with law enforcement. Hold still", the person pulled out a knife.
"No please", Whumpee pleaded, "Master will do it again... only tighter. My punishment for being freed without permission", Whumpee screamed as the knife cut through the ropes.
"We don't have to worry about Whumper. They are in custody. You are coming with us."
Whumpee stared nervously at the doorway of their medical room.
"Any moment Master will walk through that door. Everything will be straightened out. I'll be punished, but hopefully, they will show mercy. I tried to behave", Whumpee kept their arms tucked behind them. It was a little difficult to do with a needle in their arm, but they needed to be presentable when their master came in.
They looked at a bag of liquid that seemed to be connected to the needle.
"Maybe Master will allow me to ask a few questions about what is going on", Whumpee looked around the room, "I don't remember anything like this."
They looked down at the clothes they had been given.
"So embarrassing for Master's slave to pee themself. I hope it doesn't stain the rug. I wish I had been given a few minutes to clean that", Whumpee sighed, "maybe Master's will understand. They had been gone for a while, and didn't give me permission to go. I was good and waited.... Who am I kidding. Master is going to kill me for that. It was the new carpet."
The door opened, causing Whumpee to straighten up.
Another person with a white coat came in.
"Hello Whumpee", they sat down right by the bed, "how are we feeling? Will you bring out your arms. I'd like to see how the rope marks are doing. I'm sure you will feel more comfortable."
"My Master likes my arms behind my back. I'm waiting for them to return", Whumpee slowly brought their arms out.
"I'm sorry, but you don't have to wait. You will probably not see them for a while actually", they smiled, "how is your nurse treating you? You denied a meal a earlier. I think you sound pretty hungry to be denying food."
Whumpee frowned as their stomach girgled, "Master hasn't given me permission to eat yet."
"How about, as your doctor, I give you permission. I think you could really use some food", the doctor smiled, "I won't tell your master if you won't... our little secret."
"Secrets will get me punished harshly", Whumpee frowned.
"Are these bruises and scars from punishments?", the doctor looked over a few notes.
"Yes, and just normal corrections and training. Master says it will keep me in line. He likes an obedient slave", Whumpee smiled, "I'm a good Whumpee."
"I'm sure you are", the doctor smiled weakly.
The next morning, Whumpee woke up to the door being opened.
"Master... oh" Whumpee saw the person that had talked to them at Whumper's home.
"It's me. I wanted to check in on you. I've been thinking about you all night", they came in and sat down, "my name is Don, by the way. I don't think I told you that."
Whumpee frowned, "I'm sorry for peeing myself. That's not how good slaves act."
"It's alright, I think I would have done the same in that situation", Don laughed.
"Where is my master?", Whumpee asked again, "no one is answering me."
Don sighed and leaned up closely, "your Master... is in a lot of trouble right now. I can't talk about it openly with you. Just know they are not going to be free for a while. Especially with the information we are finding out, and what we have found out about you. They won't hurt you any longer."
"Did I do something wrong?", Whumpee whispered.
"No you haven't done anything wrong. You have helped us greatly. I will actually be taking you to a friend of mine later today. My friend is going to take care of you for a while. They really want to know what your favorite food is, so they can make it for you for dinner", Don smiled.
"Someone wants to take care of me?", Whumpee stared, "but why?"
"Well, they do it for a living. Take care of cases like yours. They love doing it", Don nodded, "the moment I saw you, I knew I had to get you into Caretaker's hands. He will help you so much."
Whumpee stared out the window of the car.
"Can I at least see my master?", Whumpee turned to Don, "get any orders for how they want me to behave until I'm back with them again."
"I'm sorry Whumpee, but you can't. You'll have to follow what Caretaker tells you for right now", Don turned into a neighborhood, "I'll stay for a little while to make sure you are settled in."
Whumpee watched the houses in the neighborhood while until they pulled into one.
"Here we are", Don smiled.
Whumpee followed Don to the door and hid behind them while they waited.
A nurse had given them a stuffed bear while they were being discharged. They hugged onto it tightly.
"Hey Caretaker", Don greeted when the door finally opened.
"Hello, I just finished getting the room ready. Perfect timing", the elderly man smiled.
Whumpee shook as Don moved aside. They quickly darted behind Don again.
"A little shy, and a lot confused. I'm afraid I have a difficult case for you", Don said apologetically.
"That's alright, just means they need a little more love. I have just want they need", Caretaker knelt down to be eye level with Whumpee, "welcome to my home. I hope you will find it very comfy."
Whumpee stared out the window for a while after Don left. The bear still wrapped tightly in their arms.
"Something smells delicious", Whumpee shyly sniffed a few times.
"Whumpee, dinner is about ready if you would like to sit at the table here", Caretaker came around carrying a few cups, "I know you haven't eaten for a while, so I'm sure you're hungry. You will be required to eat this meal though. That is a rule here."
Whumpee felt a wave of relief when they heard a rule. Something to follow.... finally.
Whumpee stared at the table wondering where Caretaker would sit. They finally knelt beside a chair. They glanced at their arms for a moment before tucking them behind their back. The stuffed bear sat next to them on the floor.
Caretaker glanced out at them.
"Oh Whumpee, may I ask what you are up to?", Caretaker stepped out to them.
"This is how my master had me sit for their meals", Whumpee looked at themself nervously, "is this okay?"
"Well, I had you sitting in one of the chairs at the table in mind, my dear", Caretaker smiled comfortingly, "could you tell me how you ate."
"My Master would have me beg beside their lap while they ate. They would give me a bite or two while they ate their meal. When they finished they would set the plate on the floor for me to finish the leftovers", Whumpee frowned.
"Oh", Caretaker tried to hide their saddened shock, "and, uh, you had your arms tied behind your back often. How would you eat?"
"Just bend over and eat with my mouth. It was hard at first. You just had to be careful about getting food on the carpet", Whumpee smiled at themself, "I was very good for my Master. I just sometimes wished he had left me a few extra bites. I was often hungry, but I never asked for more."
"I'm sure you were very good for them, and thankyou for sharing that with me", Caretaker smiled, "let's try eating at the table tonight", Caretaker reached for the bear, then helped Whumpee up, "I can assure you, you will not walk away from my table hungry. I made your favorites."
Whumpee sat at the table shyly. This was a new experience, they had never been allowed on Master's furniture.
"Ar-are you sure you want me at the table?", they asked when Caretaker came in.
"Of course I'm sure", Caretaker set a plate and a bowl down in front of Whumpee, "that way you can eat comfortably.
"Wow", Whumpee stared at the food. They hadn't seen this much food set in front of them since one of their Master's friends snuck them a plate at a dinner party.
"You have a delicious salad, spaghetti, garlic bread. Then we have a slice of chocolate cake for dessert", Caretaker smiled as Whumpee stared at the food with wide eyes, "of course we have milk, juice, and water to drink as well."
"I get all of this?", Whumpee looked at them in shock.
"Yes, I'll be right back with my plates. Now you do have to eat, but you do not have to eat it all. I know there is a lot here. Eat until you're satisfied", Caretaker smiled as they turned, "no need to make yourself sick by overindulgence."
Whumpee waited until Caretaker came back out.
"You can eat", Caretaker sat down, "I hope you enjoy. Let me know if you need anything."
"If feels weird", Whumpee looked at the plate again, "I've never been offered so much food. I also don't have my Master's permission to eat. But... for the first time... I-I don't care."
Caretaker smiled comfortingly, "that's why I always make my patient's favorite for their first meal with me. It's easier to break a rule if it's something they like. Then, after that, they realize that nothing bad happened. Then a while down the road they realize nothing bad is going to happen. You are very well behaved, I can imagine what your Master has done to you by your behavior alone. You are very much safe here, I promise. I have Don on speed dial if anything bad does happen."
Whumpee stared sadly at the cake.
"You can have it later if you like. You definitely enjoyed your meal", Caretaker smiled at the almost empty plates.
"It all tasted so good. I haven't had food like this in so long", Whumpee looked at their plates, "I'll go start washing dishes for you. Maybe after that I'll be able to eat the cake."
Caretaker stood, "you don't have to worry about doing chores while you're here. You can help me though if you like. Maybe after that we can come out here and see about the cake."
"N-no chores.... but how will I earn my keep?", Whumpee stood quickly to try to help.
"You don't have to earn anything here", Caretaker smiled, "I know it is hard to understand that, so I will allow you to help me if you want to. You don't have to though. You are here to heal and recuperate. It is my job to make sure you do that."
Whumpee frowned, "I don't really understand", they gave a worried look, "I'm sorry."
"It's okay, in time you will be more comfortable", Caretaker led them to the kitchen, "so, do you want to help me. I actually have a dishwasher, so this task is quite easy."
"Dishwasher, I've never been allowed to use one", Whumpee whispered, "Master says the dishes get washed better by hand. It was the only time my hands would be untied. I would have to do my chores in the evening when he was home to untie me. The day was spent walking up and down the hall, so I didn't become lazy. If master logged into the camera and saw me sitting or not pacing...", Whumpee shuddered as they remembered.
"Yes, some dishes do wash better by hand. I don't use those dishes", Caretaker smirked, "a note on those rules... if you need to use the bathroom, please go. You do not need permission to use the bathroom."
Whumpee nodded, "thankyou", they sighed in relief.
Whumpee rinsed the dishes as Caretaker had showed them. Caretaker then took the dish and placed it in the dishwasher.
"Alright, all done", Caretaker pressed a button, "have you worked up a hunger for cake yet?"
"I-I don't know. That was faster than I thought it would be", Whumpee felt their stomach, "its still full."
"Mine is too", Caretaker nodded
That night, Whumpee stood very close to something they hadn't had access to in years.
Caretaker walked by and peaked in.
"How are you feeling right now?"
"Overwhelmed", Whumpee turned and looked at Caretaker, "you really want me to sleep in one of your beds?"
"Yes, of course. I wouldn't have made it for you otherwise", Caretaker came into the room, "you are allowed to use any of my furniture. You are allowed to sleep in that bed. That is your bed for the time being."
"M-my bed" Whumpee looked at it again.
They reached a shaky hand to the blankets and felt how soft it all was.
"Your bed", Caretaker nodded, "are you ready to climb in. I'm sure this will feel so good. You just showered. I find fresh clean bedding to feel so good after a shower."
"I've slept on the floor for so long. It's a lot to just be allowed in a bed now", Whumpee whispered.
"I'm sure it is, and I'm sorry you're overwhelmed by it all", Caretaker started to untuck the blankets, "I promise you, you deserve to sleep in your bed. You have done everything required of a good slave. Now take your reward. Think of your recovery as your reward. All of this is so well deserved."
Whumpee smiled weakly.
Chills ran up their spine as they climbed into the bed. The sheets tingled against their skin.
Caretaker smiled as they pulled the blankets up for Whumpee. They tucked in Whumpee's bear from the hospital.
"You look quite cozy", Caretaker moved some of Whumpee's hair out of their face.
"It-it feels different... a good different", Whumpee answered.
"You remember where my room is right?", Caretaker smiled, "you can come get me any time tonight... for any reason."
"Yes Caretaker", Whumpee nodded.
"Very good", Caretaker smiled, "well, I guess I'm going to leave you to it. I hope you have a goodnight sleep. You deserve it. Unless otherwise, I will see you in the morning."
"Goodnight Caretaker. Thankyou for everything, I appreciate how patient and merciful you are to me", Whumpee smiled.
"You're welcome", Caretaker winked, "it's not hard to be patient with you. I hope you know that. Goodnight Whumpee."
Caretaker was up a little later.
They texted Don to update them on how the rest of the day had gone.
Caretaker stepped into Whumpee's room to check on them before they went off to bed.
Whumpee had gotten into a comfortable position and was quietly snoring.
"You have a long road of recovery. Whatever that person has done to you has hurt you greatly. I'm going to help you. You'll be alright" Caretaker whispered as they watched Whumpee, "I'm sorry for what you've been through, but it's over now. All that's left is the rest of your life."
Whumpee moved slightly in their sleep, and quickly began snoring again.
Caretaker adjusted the blanket.
"Goodnight Whumpee", Caretaker smiled as they left the room and hurried to bed, "they had another day tomorrow."
Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all.
@villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived
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@notpeppermint @cyborg0109
@idontreallyexistyet @painfulplots
@whumpbump @everythingsscary
@skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr
@theforeverdyingperson @legendarydelusiongoatee
@candleshopmenace @whumpanthems
@lavndvrr @ivymyers
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@valravnthefrenchie @glennemerald
@jasperthecapser @does-directions
@deafeninglittlecrown @jumpywhumpywriter
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@kawaii-cakes @phoenixpromptsandstuff
@alyscat
#whump community#whump stuff#whump writing#whump ideas#whump scenario#recovery whump#whump#whumper#slave whumpee#slave whump#caretaker#caretaker and whumpee#whumpee#caretaking#oc
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Reign Down on Me - Part 11
Pairing: Ghost x Hybrid!reader (eventual poly!141)
No use of y/n or mention of gender/race
Summary: Reader is a wolf hybrid in a world that treats them like second class citizens, given a horrible start in life after being thrown into the military with no preparation. After years of struggle, they're finally taken away from their base by Ghost, now a permanent member of taskforce 141 reader struggles to come to terms with the fact that perhaps there's a life there for them - if only they reach out and accept it.
Warnings: hurt/comfort, Angst, abuse mentions, self doubt, violent scenes
A/N: Thanks everyone for sticking with me 💕
-🐺-
“So, Pup, now that we’re acquainted I want to start the session by doing a quick check in to see how you’re feeling. For the first few visits with my clients, I usually like to provide a sheet just to help you express yourself properly. So I’m gonna give you this and then once you’ve made your selections we can talk about them and I can answer any questions you have. Don’t be afraid to pick as many as you need to!”
You stared dead eyed at Dr. Beale, already plotting a bloody murder attempt on Price; one befitting of the betrayal that you felt by being subjected to a therapist with all her gentle tones and well meaning smiles. She appeared nice enough, dark coils of hair twisted into a bun, a bright watercolour patterned dress, a small pair of black rimmed glasses; she could’ve passed for a school teacher honestly.
You decided you wouldn’t be fooled by her outward appearance though, plenty of people could put on a good front afterall. She was probably going to play mind tricks on you. That’s what everyone said about therapists, right? She was going to find out about the things you resolved to tell no one about…
Besides, It wasn’t fair! Surely everyone in the team had their shit to deal with. Why were they allowed to romp around and continue with normal training while you’d been dumped into the quacks office? An office beckoning secrets to march out in the dreary reality of it all.
The room itself was painted a now worn yellow with a bobbly carpet across the expanse of it that looked like it was about to match the walls with just a little more foot traffic. Despite that, Dr.Beale had clearly tried to make her best effort to cheer the place up. A string of fairy lights glowed behind her across the wall, illuminating the colourful art that was pinned up all over the place. She’d stuffed a few pot plants by the one window that did its best to shine a little light into the room, and from your puffy old armchair, you could just see a ‘plant mother’ mug sat at her desk to the left of her.
Plants and fairy lights or not, you still felt like you were in hell. Waiting to be condescended to, waiting to be told what your feelings are and how to deal with them as if you hadn’t been managing yourself your whole life. Not to mention be shaken down for that one thing you said you purposefully wouldn’t discuss with her.
“Here you go! Circle the ones you think fit best right now.”
Dr. Beale finished shuffling through the papers in her hands and reached over to give you the floppy laminated sheet she selected. After that you were handed a whiteboard marker and given an expectant smile.
You sighed and looked down at the assignment, almost groaning out loud when you saw what was on it. A few rows of cartoon faces greeted you and underneath each was an emotion. At the top of the sheet was a big thick fonted title that read ‘today I feel…’
Today I feel like I’m gonna puke up breakfast, you thought.
For a moment you considered walking out and begging Price to give you one more chance, to drop the whole therapy thing. However once you remembered back to Ghost dropping you off, you let your ears sag against your head and dismissed the idea. The last thing you needed was Ghost marching into the room and getting in the middle of it all.
Besides everyone had their work cut out for them. That’s what you told yourself. Soap and Gaz had to train, Ghost was at a meeting about the parade and Price was busy fuming over dead end leads and uncooperative guests.
With that in mind you circled the orange grumpy face that said annoyed, the grey neutral face and at the last minute, also circled the light blue embarrassed face. After your selections were made you handed the sheet back to Dr.Beale and watched as she studied it. Of course when she looked back up at you she greeted you with that same neutral little smile.
“Ok, thank you so much for sharing that with me. Now why don’t we talk about this a little. Would you like to tell me why you’re annoyed?”
You bit your lip, undecided if you’d be honest or if you’d try to brush her off. Once you looked into her steely eyes though, you knew she didn’t look like a woman that was going to be easily fooled. Besides, over the time you’d been with him, Ghost had hammered the need to be honest into you till you felt sore at the idea of deflecting anymore. Well, deflecting about most things anyway.
“I don’t think I need therapy,” you shrugged. “I could be doing something worthwhile right now, training with my team, or helping Ghost, even the gym seems more productive. No one’s ever stopped to talk about my emotions before and I don’t get what use that’s gonna be now. It’s not like any of the others have to take time out to talk about their feelings, why should I be any different?”
“I see,” she nodded. “And is that why you’re embarrassed? You think that being away from your team and talking with me is something to feel ashamed of?”
You nodded.
“Well, I can see why you feel that way, it’s valid from your perspective, but i think it’s worthwhile remembering that your team have different needs than you.”
“What, you think all hybrids need therapy?” You frowned.
She laughed a little at that and shook her head. The silence of her pause rang out, prompting you to look away from her and focus on a leaf on one of the plants. You watched it bounce and sway with the slight draft that swept in through the window.
“I meant that as an individual we have different needs, is all,” she finally said. “We all struggle with different issues, need a little help with things now and then. Can you think of a reason why your captain signed you up for your sessions with me? Is there something you need to work through that you need help with?”
“I uh…” you paused this time, recognising that her tone conveyed that she knew exactly what you were supposed to say, Price had already told her of course. “I…black out sometimes when I’m put to work. I give into my instincts and I stop- stop being myself.”
She nodded, giving you space to add anything else with a gentle smile. It unnerved you. Never in your long career had you ever been given the space to sit and tell someone all your problems before, and only in that moment did you realise how much you could actually talk about if you let the dam break.
Everything rushed through your head at once, the pressure bursting through your skull and reverberating across your clenched teeth. Your parents leaving you, Maddox torturing you, moments where you had no one to talk to, no one to comfort you, getting practically thrown out of helicopters and Jeeps and sent into the line of fire, sweating for hours in hot climates and assisting aid workers till you passed out, shivering and breathing out fading pillars of steam in the Norwegian mountains because your clothing was in such poor condition, starving in the kennels, begging for medical attention-
“Are you alright? Would you like a cup of tea or some water or something?”
You blinked over at Dr. Beale. Suddenly you were back in your body and you realised you’d been clenching the arms of your chair so hard that your claws had stuck themselves into the puffy lining.
You apologised and asked for some tea in as even a tone as you could muster.
“When Price reached out, he told me about the instinct driven black outs- said Ghost had been managing you mostly, but that in a recent mission you wouldn’t listen and you almost died,” Dr. Beale said, standing by the kettle you hadn’t spotted before as it rumbled to life. “He also said, despite the blackouts, you’d been enjoying your time with your new team, said your relationship with Ghost was solid. Is that how you feel?”
“Yeah.”
“Care to share more on any of that?”
You had to take a second to process what you were going to tell her. Words weren't flooding to you in those moments. Your mind was still busy turning different possibilities over, sifting through possible outcomes of telling her or not telling her certain things. Was Beale to be trusted, would she actually help you? Why would Price make you speak to someone who wasn’t being genuine in their intention to help? But then how well did he know this doctor?
“I dunno, the 141 have been nice to me. They all look after me and I like that I get to feel…like a part of something.”
“That’s great! It’s important to have bonds like that in your line of work. It’s hard when you’re a hybrid though, huh?”
“Mmhm, I didn’t think I’d ever have a handler,” you shrugged. “I’m lucky to have gotten Ghost though. He’s been…really nice to me.”
She stirred the tea bag around in the mug a second, the tinkling sound of the metal against ceramic causing your ears to flick. After quickly asking if you wanted milk and sugar, you were soon handed the warm mug, giving your hands something to clench onto. The steam gave you a sense of clarity, reminded you to breathe more.
“What kinds of nice things does Ghost do then?”
-🐺-
“Get your coat on, we’re heading out.”
You looked up from the colourful pages of your graphic novel and huffed out a sigh as Ghost passed by your room. The day after getting back from Mexico you had been looking forward to catching up on your reading and doing nothing for most of the day. Apparently Ghost had other plans though.
He was already at the door getting his boots on when you emerged, your ears drawn back and mouth set in a firm line. Your fingers curled into the warmth of your jacket sleeves, waiting on Ghost moving out the way so that you could get your own shoes on. The hall was cold since the heating hadn’t been on and the smell of the recent rain fall had managed to permeate around the door all the while. You liked that smell, didn’t mind that Ghost took a few extra seconds.
“Where we going?” You asked, only speaking once you started to do up your laces.
“Out.”
“Why?” You tried again, smiling when you saw his own barely concealed grin in the crinkles of his eyes.
“Because I found somethin’ you’d like.”
“And what is it I like?” You pressed, ears standing fully to attention now.
“Asking too many bloody questions apparently, fuck me,” he chuckled.
He ruffled your hair and was rewarded with a growl for his effort. He didn’t back down though. You playfully went to chomp on the edge of his palm, trying to discourage him from messing up your appearance right before going, but he drew his hand back in time before your teeth could connect. Your fangs biting into air.
“Naughty.”
“You started it,” you said with a smirk.
“And I’ll put an end to it too. Anymore tryin’ to bite me and I’ll bite ya back.”
You folded your ears back in fake alarm, but of course Ghost knew exactly what you were doing and laughed you off. After ordering you to get your boots on it didn’t take long before you were out the door and following him into the car. The destination was still a mystery and Ghost remained stalwart in refusing any clues. It was to be an off base trip, that much was obvious, but to where?
Once Ghost got driving the scenery flashed by like a rolling screen, the barracks houses soon fading to country lanes and then springing back up to houses, then blocks of flats, the familiar route to the city splashing out ahead of you. All the way through the roads, classical music played softly in the background, the dramatic violins willing the road to pass under the wheels faster and faster while the road roared above it all. You liked car rides with Ghost, appreciated that you got to sit in his quiet company while he concentrated on the drive.
After about a half hour, once day had quickly faded into night like a blinking eye, the car rolled up and up until eventually coming to a stop in a tall parking structure. When you got out of the car, the chill of the air bit your cheeks and beckoned you to come closer into its winds. You peeked over the edge of the barrier, staring down over the solid fencing at the city below with a cautious head tilt. You thought of the many vantage points you’d waited at throughout your life and couldn’t help but wait to be told to track a target.
“C’mon, Pup. This way.”
Ghost pulled up his neck gaiter, newly ordered for the parade, and marched off toward the doorway. He knew you’d follow. Both of you milling past cars and toward the doors of the shopping centre beyond. Through the frosted glass you could already see the beginning glow of the lights beyond, smell the scattered scents of different shops teas and perfumes and chocolates among the mingling aromas.
“Gonna take me on another shopping spree?” You enquired.
“Oh yeah, gonna make sure we get you kitted out. Get you all the clothes you’ve been begging me for,” he deadpanned. “Little fashionista.”
His flat voice gave nothing away. Only the crinkle of his eyes indicated to you that he wasn’t serious. It was hard to resist playing along with the bit however.
“You think I’ll finally get that cowboy hat I always wanted?”
“Mm,” he grunted thoughtfully. “Get you the boots to match too.”
“And a whip?”
“Now that’ll do, I’ve only got so much budget.”
Finally you both entered through the double doors, Ghost holding the door open for you and letting you walk into the warmth first. The twinkling lights were easy to see now, all brightly sparkling amongst the banners that rolled down from the ceiling, all advertising great deals to be had and fun places to go to. A couple of the banners even seemed to show a few hybrids. You stood for a second to to take them in, still surprised that hybrids were shown on advertisements now, blinking up for a few moments before you followed Ghost again.
“So where are we actually going?” You huffed, finally falling in line with his huge steps.
“You’ll see soon,” he laughed.
He waved you off with his hand when you tried to whine at him. It didn’t matter what you threw his way, he was quite content to swat you off like a fly. At one point he started digging his hand into your neck just to make you laugh and distract you from asking any more questions.
After some amount of shoving from each of you, you soon ended up in front of a bookstore. It was one of the chains you were used to going to, the fuzzy purple carpet the same as all the others, the tall stacks of colourful shelves gleaming with promise of adventure, romance and cartoon ass kickings.
“You were being all secretive about going to the bookshop, why exactly?” You asked, cocking an ear back in confusion.
Not that you weren’t grateful. However you’d gone to the book shop before with him, it was hardly worthy of being a secret. Ghost was cryptic as ever though. He merely shrugged his shoulders and lead the way inside, already beelining for the graphic novels without any input from you. You followed after him with a shake of your head after.
With the next three books in your favourite series secured, plus another novel ‘without bloody pictures in it’ at Ghost’s insistence, he took you out of the shop and lead you up to the food court afterwards. The ‘adventure’ wasn’t at an end yet. You stood on the escalator and looked out at the people walking around - all to absorbed with themselves to worry about you, you’d now learned. It wasn’t a very busy night either, as stairs flattened at the top, it was revealed the food court was much the same as the rest of the place.
“What do you want then?” He asked, stopping at a pillar and letting you survey the floor while he leaned his back against it.
All the usual offerings filled the place, random Chinese, Italian, and sandwich shops, chains dotted in between them, and of course some random desert stalls. The smells invaded your senses, most tempting you to choose them, until one particular one won out. Pizza.
“I’ll not bother asking what you want on it,” Ghost snorted.
You’d protest if you didn’t know your own predictability. Besides there were more important things at stake than a wrong order. Once you were situated behind a young couple, you couldn’t help diving into your bag of books and pulling out your new book. It’d been a while since you’d read something with full sentences, the graphic novels were too addictive and easy to read after a long day, but this story seemed interesting at least.
“You’re a nonsense, you are.”
“What? You’re the one that was encouraging me to get the thing and now I can’t read it?”
“Didn’t say you couldn’t read it. Most people just wait till they’re sat down to read.”
“I’m not most people,” you shrugged, shooting him a sly smile and a flick of the ears.
He didn’t protest that. In true Ghost fashion, he nodded and made some gruff comment about you being a ‘harmless weirdo’ at least. Which, of course, you wouldn’t let stand. Harmless? It would be an insult to let him call you harmless when he knew exactly what you could do. You gave him a flash of your teeth, but were quickly disarmed when he squeezed the funny spot between your neck and shoulder again.
“Stop doing that!” you whined, slapping his arm.
“But it’s funny,” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “And you like it when I tease ya.”
“Do not.”
“Yeah you do. Your tail’s wagging.”
“That’s an annoyed wag actually. There’s a big difference,” you said, ensuring you weren’t looking anywhere near his eyes.
If you had made eye contact you would’ve been afraid that Ghost would figure out you just liked it any time he touched you - no matter if it was teasing or not. After so long a time spent isolated and shoved away in kennels or bunks, every casual gesture felt like another drop in the cup that had been empty for so long. Now it felt like that cup was filling up more and more by the day, and you weren’t sure that there was an end, but knew that the bottom was just a bad memory now.
The people ahead of you in the line stood off to the side a moment after, and soon you were snapped out of your thoughts and watching the Lieutenant. Ghost parted from you to get the pizzas and pay, quickly reeling off the order and tapping his card on the machine. He motioned his head for you to follow him to the next nearest pillar. His back once again easing against the solid surface.
“You’re getting better at making shit up. Must be all that reading you’re doing,” Ghost noted, forcing you to remember what you’d just been talking about. “Or too much time with Gaz, cheeky bastard.”
He pulled you into him and mussed your hair, paying special attention to your ears. You whined but it didn’t matter. His knuckles relentlessly went on and built static between his skin and your hair and fur. Even without a mirror you knew that you were going to look a mess. You grabbed onto his hand and tried to separate yourself from the big lump holding you down, but it was no use.
“You’re not funny,” you huffed.
“Now that’s a lie,” Ghost laughed, finally letting you go. “Tails still waggin’ an’ all.”
“What my tail does isn’t any of your business,” you said petulantly.
“Everything you do is my business, Pup.”
“Oh yeah? Why that?”
“Cause you’re mine,” he said, a smile in his eyes while he smoothed the back of his hand across your jaw.
In that moment, you couldn’t be more glad that he was called to go pick up the pizza, otherwise he might’ve caught the way your pupils expanded like a playful cat’s and the obnoxious speed of your tail. With a gulp and ‘get yourself together’, you walked toward a nearby table and waited for him to bring the food. There was no way you could muster looking toward him without crumbling into an overexcited bundle of nerves.
“Excuse me,” called a small voice, capturing your attention.
You tilted your head and turned, soon finding the source of the sound. A small boy that had somehow materialised next to you on the bench that you’d chosen, his ears folded back and tail in his hand. At first you wondered where his parents were, worrying about what could happen to a hybrid child that found themselves missing, but then you remembered he’d tried to get your attention.
“Are you ok? Do you need help?” You asked, still glancing around for a parent or some other family member who he might belong to.
“No, no I’m fine,” he said, releasing his tail and sitting up tall on his knees. “I wanted to ask you something.”
You tilted your head again and looked him up and down. He was maybe seven or eight, quite tall even while on his knees on the bench, but he was all lanky and fluffy with his small age still. You weren’t much older than him when you’d been sent off to Branhaven. Had you looked so fragile and sweet once?
“What is it?” you finally asked, trying to forget about your own thoughts for the moment.
“Are you a soldier?” he asked, pointing to the collar at your neck.
“I am,” you confirmed, a smile forming. “Why do you wanna know?”
“My daddy’s a soldier,” the boy shrugged, “he has a collar like that, but he only wears it when he has to work. Are you working?”
Now you could only frown. His father was a hybrid? And a soldier? It raised a few different questions for you, namely how could he have had a child with the lifestyle he led, and furthermore how could he be present when he’d be bound to a handler. Had you felt it appropriate, you would’ve thrown a thousand questions at the boy, but instead you answered him.
“I’m not working,” you said. “I just don’t like taking it off.”
“Why?”
“I feel like I’m naked without it,” you shrugged.
The boy giggled at your answer, his bushy black tail wagging with delight. He was thoroughly impressed until Ghost walked over, sticking your pizza down and giving you a questioning look. Then the boy cocked his head, unsure of what to do.
“Did you multiply while I wasn’t looking?” he asked, eyes crinkling.
The boy smiled again and wagged his tail, clearly sensing that Ghost must be safe. When you’d first met him it had taken a while to convince you of that, but then you supposed in his civvy clothes there was more of a softness about him.
“Uh, kinda,” you said sheepishly, again wondering about where the kid’s parents were. “He was asking about my collar. Saying his dad is a hybrid soldier like me.”
“That right?” Ghost asked, taking the chair out across from you both. “What’s your name then?”
“I’m Ben Killroy,” the boy said proudly, puffing his chest up. “And I’m gonna be a soldier just like my dad and your hybrid.”
That made your stomach drop. A weight settling somewhere deep in your bones at the very idea of being driven down and delivered off into the same life you were. How long until that little smile washed off his face? A whole day or maybe just a few hours?
“That so? And your dad wants that for you does he?” Ghost asked.
“Well no,” he huffed, his ears folding back in annoyance. “Him and mum told me I’m not allowed to go, they keep saying I have to keep going to stupid school and get an education. Except they can’t tell me what to do once I’m eighteen, so then I can join!”
“School isn’t stupid, you’ll have a lot more fun there than the army,” you said sternly, firmly agreeing with his parents.
“Ugh, you’re just like my parents,” he groaned, throwing his hands up. “School is crap! You have to sit in a room and pay attention to a stupid blackboard and you only get like… forty minutes outside. Plus there’s bullies that pull your tail and call you big ears in my school. If I went to a hybrid training program then no one would bully me for my tail or ears because everyone would have them! Except my dad says that’s not true and you do get bullied, but then when i ask him to prove it, he doesn’t tell me how its not true! That means he must be lying.”
At that you couldn’t help but snort, wishing you could pat his dad on the back. How right he was. Before you could tell him just how ludicrous the idea of not getting bullied in the army was, Ghost got in before you. Leaving you simmering to yourself.
“You know in the army you have to stay inside all day sometimes, and you have to sit in meetings for hours where you’re not allowed to speak or move?” Ghost said, peering over at you. “Isn’t that right, Pup?”
You nodded at him, watching as Ben narrowed his eyes.
“Why would you have to be in meetings not speaking or moving for hours?”
“Sometimes your handler has to be in them and talk about the mission you were on. You have to be there too, just in case you have to answer questions as well, but most of the time you’re expected to sit quiet and in the same spot without fidgeting- otherwise you get punished,” Ghost explained, nodding toward you. “Pup knows all about that, don’t you?”
“One time I had sit in a ten hour long meeting, and the one time I let out a yawn I got written up for it,” you said, full to bursting with unsavoury experiences you could regale him with.
“But that’s not fair, ten hours is like…its like basically a whole day!”
“Uh huh, and after that I had to sleep outdoors all night,” you shrugged.
“You have to sleep outside? In the cold?” He asked, frowning deeper now and holding his tail again.
“Yup. That’s one of the punishments you get the most when you’re in training.”
The boy didn’t look pleased about that at all. Though before he could question it any more a tall woman in a rain coat came by and snatched him by his hand. Not a hybrid, but still she clutched at him protectively and wore a panicked look in her eyes.
“What has mummy told you about running off in public places, Ben! I went to the play area and got a shock when you weren’t there, that’s not very nice to mummy is it? ” She said sternly, ushering him to her side before addressing you and Ghost. “I’m really sorry about him. He always has to talk to every other hybrid he sees, even when he’s been told not to go wandering off.”
“Muuum,” he whined, ears glued to the side of his head. “You’re embarassing me in front of the soldiers.”
She raised her brows and looked properly at you both, eyes flickering to the collar around your neck and then over at Ghost. Knowing what you were, she seemed to tense a bit more.
“He hasn’t caused any trouble has he?” She asked, wrapping an arm around the huffing boy.
“He's fine,” Ghost said, dipping his head a little. “Was just telling us how he wanted to join up is all. We were saying that there’s no rush, school first.”
“Oh,” she said, relaxing again and smoothing a hand over her son’s head. “Yes, that’s very good advice. Do you hear that, Ben? School first!”
“But dad didn’t have to go to school,” Ben grumbled.
“Well that’s because he didn’t get a choice, did he? C’mon, we’ve been enough of a distraction to these nice people. Let’s get you home, you little rascal,” she said sternly, looking to you for the last time she went on to say, “thanks for looking after him. You're a good soul.”
With that she ushered the protesting boy away and left you and Ghost to your food. At first the silence lingered between you both like a chasm, both of you digging in to your pizza. You staring off into the distance after the woman, while Ghost looked on at you with a calculating gaze.
“You alright?” He finally asked.
“Mhmm,” you mumbled, rolling your eyes when he did nothing but raise his brows at you. “I just…I dunno. His mum was scared for him. She cares about him and wants him to go to school…”
Another moment of quiet passed. You chewed thoughtfully on a bit of pizza, barely tasting it, while figuring out what to say. Truthfully you didn’t really know how to put coherent words to what you were thinking beyond, ‘it’s not fair’. The beat of that particular drum almost outweighed all other thought.
“And his dad… is like me. How does a hybrid soldier have a kid he’s raising?”
“Things have gotten a bit better the last few years. If you met someone and had a kid with them, you’d be given time off and be allowed to stay with them outside your work hours,” Ghost shrugged. “Did you not know that?”
“No… I suppose that never really applied to me till now though. Nobody ever took me off base, so it’s not like I would’ve met anyone.”
Ghost reached across the table and settled his warm hand on top of yours, his roughened thumb tracing the outline of yours. Your ears perked up at that.
“Well it’s not like that anymore. You’ve got options, and people that care about you,” he murmured, his hand still caressing yours. “Just don’t go runnin’ off too quick. We’d miss ya.”
You smiled at that, a swish working its way back into your tail. The strange look Ghost wore on his face had a wave of giddiness washing over you. If you weren’t mistaken it was almost like…
“Are you jealous at the idea of me going off to live with someone else, Ghost?” You asked, tone light enough that it could pass for a joke.
He snorted at that and drew back, looking away for a second before returning his eyes to yours. His stare was just as piercing as always. Vats of molten honey.
“I told you in Mexico, I didn’t like it when you were gone. Feels wrong.”
“But you’d let me go if I asked?”
Ghost said yes. Tone clipped, shoulders hunched as he shovelled his way through another slice of pizza. He didn’t know it, but you smiled then and could hardly look at him as you thought about the possibilities that a lifetime with him could entail.
“I don’t think I could imagine living with someone else now,” you said thoughtfully. “Not even the others. Especially not Price.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Too scarred after Mexico, the snore levels that man is capable of. I think health and safety should do a decibel test on him,” you said with a grin, watching on with glee as Ghost’s smile returned.
“It’s funny you say that because Price had similar complaints about you,” he said slyly.
“No he didn’t!”
“Yes he did. Said you were squirmy and all, that you kept trying to shift yourself under his arms till he was cuddling you,” He laughed, pointing his pizza at you.
“No I didn’t, that’s a lie!” you protested, a full whine breaking out into your voice.
Ghost’s dirty laugh came into full affect then, a full body thing that had your cheeks warming with the sound. Despite feeling mortified at the idea of unconsciously making Price spoon you, the fact that you were back on track with Ghost again couldn’t help but derail your shock. It was another moment of feeling normal, feeling almost human. It had you shaking your head at him instead and finishing your pizza with a little sigh of ‘unbelievable’.
“He didn’t actually say that, but you always do that with me.”
And thus the back and forth continued, the two of you fighting good naturedly while putting the pizza boxes in the bin, then still as you walked to the unknown next location and so finally stopping when you reached the cinema. The big dark lobby encased you, the dim lights making Ghost’s eyes sparkle all the more while he still refused to tell you what the big surprise was.
Even when you reached the screen and sat in your big comfy chairs, you still couldn’t get the answer out of him, no more than a ‘wait and see’ was given. Not that it mattered to you of course. It had been many many years since you’d gone to the cinema and truth be told you were happy to watch just about anything. The smell of your popcorn filled your senses, while the low lights and quiet conversations lulled you into a relaxed state, drawing you closer and closer to Ghost’s chair next to you until you were leaning your head against the bulk of his shoulder.
“I forgot how much I loved the cinema,” you sighed. “Thanks for bringing me.”
“S’alright.”
You were quiet a few moments more, watching with rapt attention even at the adverts, noting some of the trailers in your head for later so that you could see those movies later. A comedy that made you full on snort till Ghost was giving you a funny look, and a romance film that you would never confess to Ghost to wanting to see and would find a way to watch yourself, were among the few you’d catalogued away.
Soon the lights blackened almost completely and any hushed conversations then died down. Your ears perked up when the screen went black and you tilted your head, waiting to read the title of the movie. When the screen showed, you blinked a couple times and tilted your head again. It was… the same title as the graphic novels you read. You frowned and turned to Ghost, waiting to see if your assumption was surely wrong, but the smile that inched onto his face told you otherwise.
“No way!” you whispered ecstatically.
“Surprise,” he whispered back, bumping you with his shoulder.
At that point you were sat up straight in your chair, full attention directed onto the screen as the opening music blared on and vibrant colours and shapes that seemed to have been pulled right off the pages of your books were dancing into life on the screen. Characters that you had spent hours thinking about began to appear, lines that you could remember reading and rereading were spoken and it was like magic itself was woven into the world in that moment.
Ghost’s secrecy had paid off. Perhaps it had paid off a little too well - for hours after the film you were going on and on regaleing him about similarities and differences to the graphic novels, making sure he knew that one of the characters was different but so much better, that the ending of that film would lead to the next few comics in the series, that the lore of the world was worked into the film so well while covering the 3 books that it was based off. At times he would sprinkle in some questions here and there, but mostly you hit him with your full analysis until it probably felt like to him that you had seen the movie twice together.
Once you’d gotten home and into the bathroom, delving into your nightly routine, something in your chest simply wouldn’t let you settle into your own bed. Everything in you vibrated like a spring that needed to bounce, so much so that after trying to read the same line of your book five times, you admitted to yourself that you couldn’t get back into your routine after the day you’d had. And so you did the only thing you could think to do.
Creeping into the hallway, you padded downward until you reached Ghost’s room, perking an ear up and listening for any sounds of sleep. Even with your superior hearing you couldn’t really make out much, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t already knocked out.
“Ghost,” you said, hoping your voice would pierce through the door just enough to hear. “Are you asleep yet?”
A moment passed.
“Did you have another bloody thought about that movie?” came his bleary reply.
You grinned to yourself and opened the door, revealing Ghost propped against his pillows and sitting on his phone with the dull lamp on. His hair was fluffy with static, and his eyes betrayed his tiredness. Contrary to you, he looked like he could fall back and rest the second he could.
“It’s not about the movie,” you affirmed, closing the door behind you and settling onto the foot of his bed. “I just wanted a minute.”
He grunted over at you, continuing to finish up whatever he was doing on his phone. You clutched your knees in your hands, in the meantime, looking around at all the familiar cracks in the wall and bits and pieces on the floor. It was warm that night, but even so you curled up into something small.
“Come on up then,” Ghost finally said, chucking his phone to his bedside table before lifting up the sheet. “Might as well get comfy.”
Even worming your way into his sheets felt like a hug, his scent spilling from the cotton as if you were pressed in close to him. However, you remained across from him, propping yourself up on an elbow and looking up at him like a worshipper to a god. His pale chest was revealed now that the covers had shifted, and so while you stared at him your eyes lingered there while your mind whirred, not really sure what to say.
“I wanted to thank you again for today,” you finally said, looking him in the eyes. “And I wanted to say that I really appreciate everything you do for me. I don’t think I ever would’ve been able to come up with anything like this if you’d have asked me where I’d want to be months ago and I just wanted to say that you’re amazing. I’m not sure what I did to deserve all this, or you, but I’m really glad I got to.”
He blinked syrupy slow and kept looking at you with an easy smile on his face, now turning to meet you in your sideways position. Ghost’s heat now began seeping into you, your heart rate thumping as he pulled you into his orbit. His own pulse danced in your ears and soon you were hypnotised by it, just looking his eyes while he looked into yours.
“You’re too sweet,” he murmured, reaching out and stroking your cheek with his thumb. “I’m glad you had a nice night. Though I’m not someone that you need to worry about deserving, darlin’.”
“Yeah you are,” you said breathily, smile growing.
In a moment of impish fun, you turned your head and pretended to bite his thumb, fastening your two sets of teeth around it and letting the points of your canines graze against his skin. He raised his eyebrows and used his other hand to grab your cheeks, giving you a warning squeeze. You let him go, but his grip still remained on you.
“What’d I say about you biting me, you little shit?” he said, good humour still written on his face.
“You said you’d bite me back,” you shrugged.
“Wouldn’t want that now, would you?” he grunted.
“Maybe I do,” you smiled, raising your eyebrows at him again. “What then?”
He shook his head, his teeth on full show from his smile. His full face seemed to glow like white gold, the lamplight casting its rays onto him. Things moved slow then, he got closer to you, breaking the space between you until he was pushed right up against you, releasing your face finally, but still keeping you pinned with arm against your back. He watched you carefully, and you stared right back, breathing slow but expression alight.
“Feels to me like you’re after something else now,” he said as fact, you both knew it.
Even if he didn’t need a response, you nodded slowly. Your heart was pounding like a train in your ears, body rattling with stray energy now that you were in a position you’d thought of only in daydreams. For a little second of panic you wondered if this was him about to admonish you of thinking such things. Though he didn’t let you worry long.
“You sure?” he asked, voice thick with something you couldn’t explain.
“Yes,” you whispered.
He bit his lip, the scar there tightening with the action.
“Ask me.”
“What?” you frowned, shifting back and feeling his hand press into your back.
“Ask me for what you want. Go on,” he said, an indescribable look crossing his eyes.
“You want me to ask you for…” you trailed, waiting for him to interrupt, but he didn’t. “I want- for… you to kiss me.”
He chuckled at you stumbling on your words.
“You what now?”
You growled out a frustrated sigh and turned your face into his pillow.
“I want you to kiss me, alright?” you snapped, words muffled in the fabric.
At that he ushered you out of the pillow and brought his lips to yours. His mouth hot and firm against yours as every little cell in your body seemed to dance. His hands gripped your waist, making sparking little fires dance across your nerves and his body pushed into yours once again. He allowed you to come back into your body, continuing to kiss you gently, until eventually your lips moved with his and soon enough opened so that your tongues could meet.
A few seconds later and you were parting. Finally catapulting out from a stupor you soon opened your eyes and met his searching ones. Ghost breathed heavily, but then so did you and for a few seconds neither of you said anything. You simply weren’t capable. Your lips felt like they were tingling still.
“You alright?”
-🐺-
“Pup are you alright?” Dr. Beale asked, her worried expression dragging you back into the room.
Only then did you realise your chest was pounding and you accidentally squeaked, feeling as though her gaze was seeking out forbidden information. You cleared your throat, pretending that was all you were doing the whole time, and took a sip of your tea, thinking back to the last thing you’d told her.
Of course you’d regaled her about your trip out, about meeting the boy in the food court and going to your movie, however when it came to going home. You figured you’d skip that part. Instead you looked off into the room and shook your head. Your body dispelling the last paranoid nerves that told you she was psychic and knew your every thought.
“Sorry… I just had a weird dream that night was all. Anyway, basically Ghost is really nice, yeah. What else did you want to know?”
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I saw your single mom recs, and I got intrigued and have a few ideas!! I've been thinking about single mom reader who prioritized her kids after the divorce above all else, her ex was someone who was flaky + problematic and she knew her kids' childhood would be more stable if he wasn't in their lives (not like he was there much to begin, and he'd always give them false hope. No more of that!!) But because of that, she's lost a bit of herself - her mind has been in mom mode for so long, she hasn't really been feeling herself like she used to. But maybe a special guy changes that tho 👀
I'm just imagining the kids being the catalyst to the meeting. (I imagine the reader having a daughter who's in pre-school and a baby boy who's a few months old.) Maybe your daughter sees Ghost at the super market and asks him questions about his mask and tattoos and you're frantically apologizing to him, and he sees how beautiful you are and compliments you on it. He also notices the amount of groceries you have, you probably need help carrying those, right? Or maybe you're at the park, and your daughter accidently hits a ball at Gaz, the beautiful man only smiling and brushing it off. He insists on playing with your daughter after he notices that she's playing alone and you're occupied with your baby boy, and you can't help but think that he's actually prince charming irl. Maybe you're on the bus and are struggling with your bags, a phone call, and soothing your baby, trying to keep your daughter from being too loud or getting up from her seat, and Price notices, helping you out, telling you that it's no trouble - he'll even help you to your home, it's awful late after all. Or you're at the store, buying clothes now the it's gotten chilly, and your daughter begs for a new toy but you gotta let her down easy, explaining you don't have enough money on you rn, when Soap comes in, buying the toy for her. You insist on repaying, and he says you don't need to, a bonnie hen like yourself shouldn't have to worry about that, not when the lil princess is happy, cus that's what matters, right?
I'm sorry I rambled, I love men who are good with kids!!
I love men who are good with kids too 😩 god, I’m just imagining Simon- this big, hulking man- bending down to listen fully and attentively to your daughter and answering all her curious little questions, and then is still giving her his focus and attention even while carrying your groceries. Ovaries? Desperate.
ALSO KYLEEE YES his heart just kinda of aches when he notices how lonely your daughter looks, playing by herself because the other kids are all boys and told her she can’t play with them. It’s a great bonus mama looks great and has no ring on her finger.
God, anon, I love your brain 😭 john(x2)’s ideas got me blushing and giggling i love you
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Quinn’s hot tub picture…can we have some quinn thigh riding thoughts 🤭
the question is, why do you want to get off on quinn's thighs all the time? why does quinn want you to get off on his thighs? the answer is: it's the humiliation.
"look at you," quinn breathes out, biting his lower lip and scanning your figure. what he means is, 'see how easy you are? see how i don't have to lift a finger to make you feel good?'
"that's it," quinn praises lowly. his fingertips brand your hips, searing his fingerprint on your skin. between the lines, he encourages you to keep going. 'hump my leg until you come, baby,' is what he wants to say.
quinn catalogues your every shudder. he likes the way your eyes get wild when you lose yourself in the feeling, putting aside all of your worries about how you look– how desperate you are to have him close, even if he's not doing anything.
he drags his finger through the patch of slick you leave on his thigh when you're done, then brings it to his own mouth. he licks his finger clean and revels in the way your pupils dilate, lips parting with want. he repeats the action but allows you to taste yourself this time, subtly tapping his foot to start the whole process over again. he won't be satisfied until you melt into him and beg for him to touch you more.
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