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goatgoesmbe · 22 days ago

Note

Y/N: Torturing König for information

König: Oh... that's quite nice

Y/N: Why can't anyone take me seriously. Fuck this, Ghost can deal with this

König: NO please- I can be normal about this!

Y/N: Can you.

König: ...no

Y/N: GHOST! COME HERE!

👀👀👀👀

Alright now, hear me out anon- i hope you don't mind me turning this to 3k words porn.

big thamks to my mommy-auntie (montie?) @ahobaka-trash for beta-reading

KonigxReader + GhostxReader

tw : edging, implied torture, hostage interrogation, blueballing, dead dove, free use interrogation, open ending

AO3

rated : E

word count : 3092

Ghost wasn't dumb. He knew exactly what was going on in that giant's head, ever since he saw you innocently beaming at them, gesturing at your catch, a hostage.

Konig was his name, a fucking colonel. No offense to you luv, but from how everyone glanced at each other, no one believed you could take down that hunk of a mountain.

But a hostage is a hostage.

"GHOST! COME HERE!" he heard you yell. After a nod from Price, he then stepped inside the interrogation room.

You were not assigned to interrogate him at first. But Konig is tight-lipped, barely flinching at any pain, and made no sound except when he demanded your presence.

Dark brown iris lazily trailed to their hostage, who was now shirtless- well except for the shirt on his head which they couldn't get off him. It was like the colonel simply let them do what they wanted, but put his foot down when they overstepped his boundaries. Like he was in charge instead of them.

Ghost took in the cuts and bruises. They definitely looked painful, unpleasant. But from what he heard when he stood behind the one-way mirror, the soft moans and heavy breathing, it seemed like it was doing the opposite.

bastard's fucked in the 'ead, the lieutenant thought.

The usual method of torture wouldn't work on him. Ghost needed to improvise.

He said nothing and simply stood behind you before leaning down to whisper in your ear "Do you trust me, luv?".

You looked back, big doe eyes blinked at him in confusion. That innocent look on your face always made him question how the fuck did you survive working alongside them all this time.

"Um.. yes-?" a gasp slipped out your lips before you could say more, gloved hand fisting your hair and tugging back towards him. You went rigid like a kitten held by the scruff.

"Yeah?" He asked again in a low purr, the other hand trailing up your torso to squeeze your tit.

You gasped again, staying still as your eyes immediately looked at the large mirror where you knew the others were watching. Expecting anyone to say something.

Silence

Like they were waiting for your greenlight. No interruption from your captain, nor the hostage. It was all up to you what's gonna happen next.

Silence, except for faint panting from the colonel tied up in front of you.

You nodded.

And instantly, your top was ripped off of you.

You didn't get enough time to react to it, your pants got yanked down, now pooling around your knees before slowly falling to your ankles.

"Y'gonna talk now?" Ghost asked, slipping into that persona he always used in this situation. Straight to the business and no-nonsense, nonchalant about his colleague who was now half naked in his grip.

You could see Konig's eyes darkened as his pupils dilated, his breathing was heavier than before. Then, his blown pupils glanced up at Ghost while he tilted his head as if he was taunting him.

The grip on your hair tightened and you were pushed forward just enough for Konig to lean in and tug your bra down with his teeth.

Your lips parted and you feel that clench. Mind and body against each other. You shouldn't be enjoying this, a voice in your head said, scolding you for getting your panties wet.

With your tits now exposed to the cold air of the interrogation room, your nipples perked invitingly. You held your breath when your hostage opened his mouth to have a taste, only for it to be denied when you got yanked back.

"Well?" Said a voice beside your ear, though it was directed at the man in front of you who stared unblinking at your lieutenant before trailing down to your breasts which were now being fondled by two gloved hands.

"..What do you want to know?" The colonel said, sounding serious for the first time since you've met him.

"You work for Makarov?" The question was growled at him, yet your body reacted with a shiver and you couldn't help but whimper. Red flushed your cheeks, your eyes once again darting to the mirror.

Konig simply hummed in response, and you couldn't really tell if that was a yes or a no. Ghost seemed to have the same thought since he pinched your nipples hard and pulled.

"Please-!" You yelped out a plea, not really knowing who it was directed to.

The cloth on the hostage's head shifted, he was licking his lips under the hood. "He is a client" he finally said. You let out a sigh of relief when Ghost loosened his hold but didn't let you go, massaging your breasts more softly as his fingers rubbed your nipples as an apology.

That was a big intel, Makarov is working together with Kortac. The colonel himself confirmed it, an enemy, not some unlucky passersby.

You tried your best to take all the information, you really did. But it was really hard with how your lieutenant fingers danced on the sensitive nubs.

"You were with ‘im?" Ghost asked. His voice is gruff yet steady compared to the colonel in front of you, like it's normal to use his coworker as an interrogation tool. To be honest, you are quite scared of what Ghost can do to you to make Konig talk.

And you're ashamed of yourself for how that fear brought heat to your core.

Konig didn't respond once again, a silent command for Ghost to do something. And you wondered who was really in charge here, definitely not you though.

Your train of thought was interrupted when a pair of strong arms hoisted you up, one leg raised until your knee was pressing against your chest while your other leg was left dangling. Despite the cotton panties covering your cunt, you still felt very exposed, being spread out in front of one of your enemies of all people.

A pathetic whine slipped out of your lips, which were swollen from you biting down on them previously. A thick finger rubbing between your folds through your panties. Slow yet firm, soaking the cotton even more.

"Were you with Makarov?" Ghost asked again, voice lowering an octave. Whether to intimidate or maybe he was just as affected by all this too.

"No" Konig responded shortly. His body shook slightly and you noticed how he tried to pull his hand out of the handcuffs behind the chair. Like he wanted to touch you, or maybe himself, from the obvious bulge in his pants.

You swallowed at the sight.

"D’you know where 'e is?" Your lieutenant asked as his finger kept rubbing you, trailing up to circle your clit through your panties which made you whine.

Konig stayed silent again. Like he didn’t want to interrupt the lewd voices you made as you slowly unraveled in your superior's hands.

Ghost clicked his tongue, feeling impatient but still played along with the game. His fingers trailed up to the waistband, trailing across the fabric slowly like he was taking his time appreciating the delicate panties before ripping it off and tossing it with your other torn garments.

Before you could have a chance to mourn the loss of your panties, two thick fingers rammed deep into your pussy. You could only squeal, throwing your head back against his shoulder. "Ah, ah, ah-" A gasping moan with each thrust aiming at your gspot.

"Where. is. Makarov?" Ghost growled, each word emphasized with a hard thrust that got you keening.

"Si- Ghost, please.." It took you a second to realize that was your own voice.

"Not up to me, sweet'eart" The lieutenant replied without taking his eyes off the hostage.

You panted, following his gaze to the colonel in front of you. His half-lidded eyes, pupils so wide with light blue outlining them, and if you focus past the wet squelching noises you can hear him breathing heavily.

"..Konig"

His whole body jerked at your plead. "Scheiße" You heard him hiss under his breath.

"I don't know, we only interacted through a third person or a call" He continued. With your mind all jumbled, you questioned for a second about who he was talking about, oh right Makarov, we're gathering intel on Makarov.

"Don’t even try lyin’" Ghost tutted and curled his fingers, pressing against that sweet spot that made you whine pathetically.

You heard Konig chuckle breathlessly. "Oh, i won't lie to this hübsche kleine schlampe. Don't want to break her heart" he shrugged.

Ghost held back from rolling his eyes and scoffed. "What’d 'e pay ya for, then?".

Expecting another silence, Ghost didn't wait for a response. Pushing you down on your knees before shoving your face onto the colonel's crotch. "Open" He whispered lowly in your ear, tilting your head just so, your lips pressing against the zipper on the hostage’s pants.

With your teeth, you tugged the zipper down. And your eyes widened when you saw his throbbing cock. You took in the veiny shaft, the pinkish tip glistening with precum under the dim lighting of the interrogation room. filthy git went full-on commando on his job.

"What’d 'e pay you to do?" Ghost asked once again as he pried your mouth open, a silent command for you to make good use it. Then you felt the colonel go rigid when you wrapped your lips around the tip.

"..Retrieving a package" The colonel answered as he tried to buck his hips, hoping to shove more of his dick into your mouth. You started to panic, you didn't know if you could take more. He was really big, too big. And that's something, since you've taken Ghost before.

"What's the package?" The lieutenant asked as he slowly pushed you down, forcing you to take more, not caring about your muffled noise.

You felt the tip nudging the back of your throat, your eyes tearing up and you whined around the girthy cock as Ghost kept urging you to keep going. This is how you're gonna die, choking on some enemy's dick.

"Verdammt- i don't know" You heard Konig say through gritted teeth when you felt your nose buried in a bush of hair, somehow managing to take all of him. Looking so pliant and pathetic, batting your wet eyelashes up at him, as you focused on remembering how to breathe.

Ghost jerked your head back, and forward, again and again. Fucking your throat with the colonel's dick, hard without mercy.

"Don't give me that bullshit" Growled the lieutenant. Though, he didn't expect a response, letting the hostage lose himself in the wetness of your mouth.

Before you were pulled back by your hair, letting go of the cock with a wet pop. And you heard Konig whimper, his cock twitched violently, robbed from his release.

It took a while for Konig to respond, trying to regain his control back from the pleasure, steadying his breathing before speaking. "I really don't know, they told me nothing, I asked nothing. We only care about finishing the job" He said. Though, you can see his eyes glint mischievously. He was keeping something from them and felt in control because of it. Taunting your lieutenant to give him more of you in exchange for that.

It seemed that Ghost thought of the same thing since he yanked you back up and forward. You thought he wanted you to sit on the colonel's lap and you were going to, but then he held your hip in one hand while the other still had a fistful of your hair.

Then he shifted you above Konig’s lap, until your pussy lips are rubbing against the tip of the colonel's cock. Taunting back.

"Try again" The lieutenant's voice rumbled. You didn't know if you imagined it but you could hear him smirk.

The colonel was holding back from bucking his hips. Not wanting to give in just yet so he could get more. Just a bit more. "As I said, I have no clue" He shrugged, the smugness in his voice is more obvious now.

Even though you had expected it, you still gasped. It was just the tip, but the stretch made you exhale shakily. Your legs trembled slightly, and you were sure without Ghost holding you up you would definitely fall onto the colonel's lap.

Konig sighed, whether it was in exasperation or pleasure you didn't know. Probably both.

"Missiles.. possibly nukes," The colonel said without being asked. "Overheard them talking about it, though my Russian is rusty so take it with a grain of salt" he continued.

Ghost hummed into your ear, gloved hand reaching down to toy with your sensitive clit. It was as if he was rewarding you for making the hostage give them such valuable intel.

Though, he didn't reward the man who gave the intel. Making him suffer by making you clench around his tip, not letting him sink even another millimeter of his dick inside you.

"Where are they stored?" The lieutenant asked, lips against your ear, hot breath making you squirm. There's an itch in your core, this was torture for you too.

"Stop movin’, princess, unless ya want me to stop 'ere" He whispered lowly so only you could hear it, stopping the circling motion on your clit to pinch so hard it almost hurt. It's too much, but also not enough. And now you're dripping down an enemy's dick like a slut.

"I can pinpoint the location on your map" Their hostage hissed, his voice was a bit shaky and those bright blue iris locked in at the spot you and him were connected. "Untie me" He added, his eyes now locked onto your lieutenant's.

Ghost scoffed condescendingly. "Ain’t 'appenin'" he said.

You heard the colonel let out a dry chuckle. "Worth a shot" he murmured to himself.

"Just shoot it" Ghost demanded whilst moving his fingers on your clit. Flicking with his thumb, sliding two fingers up and down whilst squeezing the sensitive nub between them, massaging the top agonizingly slow, making tiny circles.

"Go on, tell 'im, luv" Deep voice purred sultry into your ear and you cried out when he lifted the hood of your clit and roughly rubbed the exposed underside. You started shaking, your back painfully arching with the overwhelming pleasure. Too much.

"Konig.. Konig-" You pleaded pathetically, squeezing the head of his cock inside of you. More of your slick dripping down his shaft.

Konig groaned, both at the sinful sight and the way your sweet voice sang his name. "Why should I? I don’t need you slitting my throat once youget all the information" He sneered.

A gloved hand slapped your clit and you squealed. "Please, please-" You whined. Doe eyes all teary as you locked eyes with the hostage.

You could feel Konig jerk beneath you as your channel clenched uncontrollably around his tip.

"We won't" Ghost responded. "Be daft of us to get rid of a bloody colonel just for this shite, and you know it" He added.

Konig snorted in response but said nothing.

"So?" Your lieutenant asked once again, pushing for an answer.

"I assume you would keep me here to exchange for something with Kortac, it's rude to keep your guest tied, no?" Konig said mockingly, making Ghost narrow his eyes.

"You ain't no bloody guest" Ghost growled and pinched your clit again, tugging it painfully while his other hand pulled at your nipple in a similar way, making you go crossed-eyed. "Now, spit it out" The lieutenant added, his voice was booming compared to your little pleas "pleasepleaseplease".

The colonel sighed, like he took pity on you. "Abandoned hospital at the north" He finally said. And you could just kiss him for making Ghost let go of your sensitive nubs and rub them in a much gentler manner.

"Thought that was Al Qatala's base now" Ghost mumbled to himself, a bit too casually like he didn't just try to ruin you.

"Yeah, the Russian made a transaction with them," Konig said. Blue eyes trailing back to you, observing the state you were in.

"Now, I told you everything you need.." The colonel purred, eyes crinkling which made you think that he was smiling at you underneath the hood.

And with that, all hell let loose.

The lieutenant's hands on you started rubbing with the intention of making you come. He let go of your nipple and went south, tracing the rim of your entrance where you still have the head of the colonel's cock inside.

Your eyes widened when you felt his fingers slipping inside you again. Not caring that you were still stretched open.

Eyes crossed, toes curled. Panting and whining like a little puppy when you felt those fingers go deeper, rubbing your gspot at the same pace as his other hand on your clit.

Your thighs were trembling, your moans getting higher and higher as your climax threatened to wash over you. And then, Ghost didn't stop Konig from thrusting up this time and you lost it.

Wave after wave of pleasure, your cunt clenched uncontrollably around Konig, moaning like a whore.

Just when you wanted to grind down for more stimulation, Ghost lifted you by the back of your knees. Konig let out a string of curses in German, watching the way your pussy clenched desperately around nothing.

"..Simon" You whimpered, teary eyes looking up at him with a pout. You didn't have the capacity to care about saying his real name in front of an enemy after such orgasm. Looks like your usage for interrogations is finally over – and you are not sure whether you were useful or just looked pretty enough.

"Don't worry princess" He murmured, shifting his hold to lift you in a bridal carry. "You've been good, we'll reward you" And with that, he kissed your forehead. You didn't see the way his eyes shifted to the one-way mirror where the rest of the team had been watching from behind it.

You could only let him carry you out of the interrogation room, heavy steps from his boots filling the silence.

And Konig?

"Verdammte Hurensöhne!" Raspy voice boomed behind you before it was muffled as Ghost closed the door behind him. Not caring that the hostage still had his hard and throbbing cock out, wet from your slick and his own precum.

But of course, if you took pity on him and if you asked everyone nicely, maybe they would let him watch- or since the interrogation had been more than successful, he could join. Letting him enjoy their leftover, to fuck everyone’s cum deeper inside your cunt.

Just say the word.

...

taglist : @partiallysame, @niazrzl, @midwesternwitchery, @cupcake4440, @cupcake4440

#call of duty x reader #call of duty #simon ghost x reader #konig call of duty #konig x reader #konig cod #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #cod x reader #cod #mbe write

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fangdokja · 28 days ago

Text

How do you escape a yandere harem? Asking for a very distressed friend (me).

♡ Book. Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows.

♡ Word Count. 958

You fucking hate romance.

Not in a casual, indifferent way. No, your hatred for romance is the kind that borders on seething disgust. The kind that makes you want to puke when two characters start making heart eyes at each other. The kind that makes you physically cringe when someone dares utter the words ‘soulmate’ or ‘true love’ in your general direction. Romance is a shit genre. A putrid, festering landfill of emotional drivel. You’d rather watch a slow-burn psychological horror where the protagonist’s sanity unravels, or a thriller where the final girl barely survives a slasher massacre, than sit through a single damn love confession.

So naturally, because fate fucking hates you, you get isekai’d into an otome game.

Not just any otome game. A reverse harem, noble court intrigue, “will you find true love?” kind of otome game. You wake up inside the body of some unfortunate, aristocratic protagonist, and your first instinct is to smash your head against the nearest marble pillar in the desperate hope that blunt force trauma will eject you from this nightmare. It doesn’t work.

Worse, you are surrounded by them.

♡ Yandere! Crown Prince who is everything you loathe—tall, broad-shouldered, charismatic. A born leader, they say. His bloodline has ruled for centuries. A tyrant in the making. His voice is deep, his smile a calculated weapon. A future emperor whose touch alone makes noblewomen swoon and fall at his feet like wilting flowers. He looks at you like you’re already his consort. You look at him like you’re about to stab him in the eye.

“Dearest,” he says, rolling the word across his tongue with insufferable arrogance, “what an honor it must be for you, to be chosen by the future ruler of this land.”

You stare at him. “I’d rather be executed for treason.”

His smile doesn’t waver. It only deepens. “How rebellious.”

You realize, with mounting horror, that he finds this amusing. Worse, attractive.

♡ Yandere! Archduke is the kind of man who has never once heard the word ‘no’ and taken it seriously. A bastard-born noble who climbed his way into power with sheer audacity and an overwhelming lack of self-preservation. The type to talk you in circles until you don’t even remember what you were arguing about in the first place. He’s always smirking, always one step ahead, and always so damn annoying.

“You wound me, darling,” he drawls, lounging against the silk cushions of your carriage like he owns it (because he does own it; he bought it specifically for your ‘dates’). “I’m a man of reason. I can be persuaded to let you go.”

You narrow your eyes. “Really?”

His smirk widens. “Of course. All you have to do is admit that you want me.”

Your expression darkens like storm clouds rolling in before a disaster. You exhale slowly. “I hope you contract the plague.”

He laughs. The bastard laughs. “Oh, sweetheart. That sharp tongue of yours only makes me want you more.”

You contemplate drowning yourself in the nearest fountain.

♡ Yandere! Supreme Mage doesn’t need to chase you. You’re already trapped. A cold-blooded intellectual, a prodigy whose intelligence surpasses entire generations of scholars. He is the advisor to the throne, the master of arcane arts, the genius whose apathy is only rivaled by his obsession. And for some unholy reason, he has chosen to dedicate that obsession to you.

“There is no logic in your resistance,” he states, his sharp calculated eyes watching your every move like a scientist dissecting a particularly fascinating specimen. “The probability of you escaping me is exactly zero.”

You glare at him from inside the magic barrier he’s sealed you in. “Fuck you.”

His lips twitch. “Inevitable.”

You scream internally.

♡ Yandere! Demon King is the worst of them all. The nightmare incarnate. The shadow that stretches across the battlefield, that turns the bravest warriors into weeping corpses. Seemingly peaceful, but whatever shred of righteousness he once had is buried beneath millennia of bloodshed. He watches you with an intensity that makes your skin crawl. You feel like prey. You are prey.

“I do not comprehend your reluctance,” he murmurs, tilting his head as though studying a curious, fragile thing. His fingers brush your cheek, and you physically recoil, like his touch might dissolve you from the inside out.

He does not retract his hand.

“You are mine,” he says simply.

“No, I am not,” you snap back, the venom in your voice laced with pure, unfiltered rage.

A pause. He exhales softly. Then he smiles.

“Ah,” he whispers. “A challenge.”

Your entire body locks up with dread. You suddenly understand, with absolute clarity, that you are fucked.

────────────

Your days are spent avoiding unwanted confessions, sidestepping ambushes disguised as ‘chance encounters,’ and resisting the overwhelming urge to commit arson. Your nights are spent planning elaborate escape routes that never come to fruition because one of the four nightmares always finds you first.

You try everything.

Poisoning the Crown Prince’s wine? He drinks it, licks his lips, and says, “Sweet. Did you make this yourself?”

Framing the Archduke for treason? He fakes his own death and then shows up in your chambers that same night, grinning like a lunatic. “Miss me?”

Teleporting away from the Supreme Mage? He rewinds time. You wake up in the same bed, with his arms around your waist.

Selling your soul to escape the Demon King? He is the one who answers.

You are doomed.

And worst of all?

It’s still a romance game.

You watch, helpless, as the ‘Affection Points’ rise every time you breathe in their general direction.

You don’t want a ‘Happy Ending.’

You want a cease and desist order.

And yet, the game continues.

Your suffering is eternal.

�� A/N. Basically me before I got married. lol. Yes. I hated anything romance both fiction and reality. So I like this concept haha. Also, I'm seriously debating on making this an actual novella. Maybe. I still have to finish my requests, but maybe.

If you want to be added or removed from the tag list, just comment on the MASTERLIST of Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows. Thank you.

General TAG LIST of “Whispers In The Dark”: @keisocool , @elvabeth , @elloredef , @mjsjshhd , @lem-hhn , @yuki-istired

❤︎ Fang Dokja's Books.

♡ For Reader-Inserts. I only write Male Yandere x Female (Fem.) Reader (heterosexual couple). No LGBTQ+:

♡ Book 1. A Heart Devoured (AHD): A Dark Yandere Anthology

♡ Book 2. Forbidden Fruits (FF): Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires.

♡ Book 3. World Ablaze (WA) : For You, I'd Burn the World.

♡ Book 4 [you are here]. Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows.

♡ Book 5. Ink & Insight (I&I): From Dead Dove to Daydreams.

♡ Library MASTERPOST 1. The Librarian’s Ledger: A Map to The Library of Forbidden Texts.

♡ Notice #1. Not all stories are included in the masterpost due to Tumblr’s link limitations. However, most long-form stories can be found here. If you're searching for a specific yandere or theme, this guide will help you navigate The Library of Forbidden Texts. Proceed with caution

♡ Book 6. The Red Ledger (TRL): Stained in Lust, Written in Blood.

♡ Notice #2. This masterlist is strictly for non-con smut and serves as an exercise in refining erotic horror writing. Comments that reduce my work to mere sexual gratification, thirst, or casual simping will not be tolerated. If your response is primarily thirst-driven, keep it to yourself—repeated violations may result in blocking. Read the RULES before engaging. The tag list is reserved for followers I trust to respect my boundaries; being included is a privilege, not a right. You may request to be added, but I will decide based on trust and adherence to my guidelines. I also reserve the right to remove anyone at any time if their engagement becomes inappropriate.

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somnoir · 3 months ago

Text

Gotham's newest Crime Lord - Part 1

Prompt: Dan kills the joker and unintentionally becomes a crime lord

Dan didn't mean to become a Crime Lord. It wasn't his fault that the Joker was fragile and easily killable with one punch to the head. He didn't know that the seemingly immortal clown was easily killed once the impact practically snapped his neck. So yes, Dan didn't mean for this shit to happen. Not when all he wanted to do was go to college, make sure Danny and Elle weren't attracting trouble back in Gotham academy.

It wasn't his fault that the crazy bastard thought it was a good idea to nab his siblings and try to use them for ransom. It's not his fault that his first instinct was to introduce his first to that pennywise knock-off. It'd not his fault that this city was haunted by vengeful ghosts that wanted to tear that motherfucker to shreds.

They were supposed to lay low after the mess with their parents and their name changes.

But nooooo!

They had to have an absolute hatred for clowns and now he's somehow made himself a crime lord. Why the fuck were the Joker's goons so fucking stupid?! They either tried to kill Dan for killing their boss or they tried to fall under him and make him their new leader. It was like a fucking cult in his eyes. Seriously, what the absolute fuck was going on with this shitty city?

It's not like he could call Jazz and say "Hi sis! I killed a crazy clown and I'm now the boss of his weird goons. I also might end up on the local vigilante's hitlist."

Yeah, no. He's not doing that.

But this might not be so bad... Not really. Being their boss could be treated as a source of income if he utilized the Joker's shit properly. I mean, he couldn't always rely on the fruitloops money, not when Vlad could turn traitor and use the money against them. He needed to find a way to support his siblings, one way or another.

And Clockwork did say to get a hobby. If not mass genocide then he could resort to carefully planned crime. Yes. This could work. He'll make it fucking work for the sake of his siblings.

Besides, if he was a crime lord—in motherfucking Gotham—he doubts that the GIW will even try to fuck around in a city where a ghost controlled some part of the criminal underworld.

Oh... Oh, he was gonna fucking do this.

(Clockwork watched as his most troublesome child shifts from world ender to crime lord. At least it was an upgrade from mass genocide.)

Nightwing didn't particularly know what to make of this mess. There were rumors of a new crime lord, of a new rogue.

One day, Joker's body was dropped into the harbor and found by the workers, all confused and scared as to why the Clown Prince of crime was dead in the water. It was humiliating in the Joker's standards, to be discarded like trash into the sea rather than have his body displayed for everyone to gawk at. The clown would have adored being glorified but whoever the hell killed him knew this and fucked the guy up bad.

His head snapped and his corpse tossed out like leftovers.

Jason had laughed, outright celebrated and Crime Alley was as festive as it ever was with the Red Hood blasting music through the streets and partying like there was no tomorrow. All of Gotham was celebrating, parading through the streets with pinatas that looked like the Joker. Harley would drop down from whatever roof she was on and swing her bat at the pinata, spilling red candy as everyone cheered and laughed. It was morbidly glorious.

But the festivities didn't erase the fact that someone had killed the Joker and knew what to do to disrespect him in the worst ways possible. It wasn't long until Joker's old lackeys were rallying to someone—a new boss. It wasn't odd for goons without bosses to move on to find different jobs, but for all of Joker's old minions to work for the same person? This was definitely the guy who killed the Joker.

No name, no appearance, nothing. Just quiet activity with organising his new goons to do strange errands. Stuff that didn't point them in the direction of criminal activity.

"You got anything?" Dick murmurs as Tim slouches over the batcomputer, watching as his younger brother sneered at the screen.

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing." He snaps, "All footage of this new rogue is immediately corrupted."

Babs hums, "And it's not like it's altered after it's been taken. The distortion happens live. They either have some tech on them or they're a meta who can avoid cameras." She adds, taking a leisure sip of the tea Alfred kindly offered them. "Whoever this is doesn't leave a trace aside from this shitty footage."

Tim groans, "I officially hate this guy!" He almost tosses his mug out of anger, shaking his head.

"Does Jason have any info on this one?"

And like the fucking menace he was, Jason pops up without another word. "He goes by Wraith." No one was startled, just sparing him a glance before nodding.

"That's it?"

"The goonions adore him." Jason shrugs, "Guy's been quick. Dealing with shit like Black Mask and other trafficking operations. Some of the kids he's saved wear clothes that have this specific symbol on them. It's a good tactic mind you. Tells people to fuck off and don't come anywhere near the kid or else he'll sic whatever bullshit he has in someone."

Dick narrowed his eyes, "Is it effective?"

"Hell yeah! One of the kids got kidnapped just last week. I went to save the poor thing but he walked out of that warehouse while the kidnappers were bleeding and sobbing." Jason once again grins, "Little Tommy threatened me if I try to arrest Wraith."

"So more anti-heri than villain. Good enough, at least." Dick sighed, shaking his head as he narrowed his eyes on the screen. More distorted footage.

"Thanks for the info, little wing."

"Just updatin' you guys. Heard some rumors that Harley's on the hunt for Wraith to thank him."

Great...

It's been a solid two months since the death of the Joker. Batman and the rest of his birds were increasingly wary of the Wraith and his two new associates that went by Phantom and Specter. No footage on the three could ever be recovered, making them all assume this was the work of a meta.

Most of them weren't sure if this guy was a threat or not. Red Hood, on the other hand, had a fairly positive opinion on the guy who's been hanging traffickers by their legs and immediately staking their claim on the kid to keep them safe.

The new crime lord was slowly dismantling the criminal underworld and building it back up to their design.

"FUCKING HELL!" Dick glared at the screen again, "That's Wraith's doing, isn't it? No way did the Riddler blow up that building."

"Wraith's only been dealing with traffickers so far. Why would he do this?" Steph murmurs, staring at the recording of a building that had suddenly went off. Numerous were dead, some barely survived.

"That's the motherfucker's symbol." Dick pointed to the glowing green symbol that looked liked a fire with some obscure letter they couldn't really make out. (Was it a D or a P?)

"Okay... Why would Wraith blow up a building and kill everyone?" Jason immediately asked, seeming to be defensive of the man. "He doesn't just kill people, Dick."

"Even so..." Bruce grunts, clearly displeased with the bloodshed. All that death...

"We're going after him." Bruce announced, "I'm not putting of the Wraith investigation anymore."

Dan stared at the pictures of the bodies, pudding out smoke without a cigarette in sight. His new minions—they preferred the term goons—were clearly apprehensive and continued to observe their new boss's expressions. This explosion had been his first act of pure and utter violence, a massacre of sorts.

He glances at Danny who melted out of the shadows, startling his goons.

"Can't say I'm not upset but I get why you did that shit." He begrudgingly admits, sitting across Dan. Phantom was a reluctant associate to his new organization of crime—ish.

"They weren't just trafficking kids, squirt. Pimping them, killing them and selling their organs, hosting matches and making meta kids fight to the fucking death." Dan clicked his tongue, "No redemption in that, Phantom."

"I get it, alright!" Danny snapped, "But the you've gotten the direct attention of the Bats now. They're gonna come for us, Wraith."

"Boss?" One of the goons—Dan remembers him as Jeremy Nelson. One guy just trying to support himself and his kid, trying to keep his sweet little daughter in school with as much money as he could get. Dan remembers giving the man a raise and a jacket with their family's symbol stitched into it—one for little Marigold.

"I'll deal with it. For now, you guys spread the word on that shit. I don't want anyone thinking I killed a bunch of kids." Dan growled, "My reputation can burn for all care, but like hell am I letting people think I hurt kids."

With Jeremy leading the other goons, he nodded and hurried out of the office to spread a word. The former Joker goons had taken a liking to their new boss, preferring his ways rather than their dead one.

"Jazz won't like this, y'know." Danny sighs, "I'm not gonna tell her. Never. But she'll find out, one way or another."

Dan frowns, "You think I don't know? It's Jazz, Danny."

"Yeah, yeah. I just didn't expect you to be like this. Crime Lord and everything."

Dan snorts, "I was the world ender, brat. This is mild compared to what I've done."

"Yeah, sure."

He shook his head, "You've got your own problems, brat. The Observants are still fussin' about you being king, your majesty."

An identical scowl looks back at Dan, and he's reminded that this kid is him. An alternate version of himself and yet they were brothers now. "I know. You killing the Joker fucked some stuff up. Apparently, the motherfucker was cursed to hell."

"Meaning?"

"He's got a lifetime of people in his shadow. Vengefu souls that want him dead." Danny huffs, "Had to deal with the paperwork cause everyone's wantin' a taste of him. I'm workin' on letting Walker release him so his victims can execute his soul."

"Cruel, little king."

"I'll give you his file. Bastard deserves to have his soul destroyed." Danny viciously grins. And once again, best reminded that this twerp is him. They were one and the same, different as well.

"Alright, alright. Fuck off now. We've still got some bats and birds to deal with." Dan immediately showed him away, noting Danny's eye roll.

"Better prepare a birdcage then."

Part 2 | Masterlist

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on-a-lucky-tide · 2 months ago

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cw: hair pulling, 141 sexcapade discussion.

"You know, I've never understood it," Gaz said, folding another hand as the cards Nik turned over on the table ruined his chance of a Full House. They'd had a few, so Gaz's brain was wading slowly towards its point when Soap folded too.

"Ye dinnae ken much, Garrick. Ye gonnae have tae narrow it doon."

Ghost raked in his winnings and then stood with a grunted, "need a slash."

Gaz scowled and flipped over one of the cards they'd been playing with before Nik could tidy it away. The set was raunchy, with depictions of busty girls in various states of undress and intimacy. The Ace of Spades had a brunette facing out of the card, her lover behind her with one hand in her hair. "Why do girls ask for this?"

"Why ask for doggy?" Soap asked, smirking around the top of his beer bottle.

"Nah, mate. The hair pulling. I've had at least two birds ask me for it. It can't be fuckin' good, can it?"

"Aye, well, I dunnae tend tae pull the freaky ones, so..."

"Alright, alright. Shut it. Nik, help me out here." Gaz looked over at their dealer, who was busy expertly shuffling the cards for the next round.

"There is a right way and a wrong way to pull hair, sergeant," Nik said.

Gaz raised an eyebrow. "Seriously?"

"Da, observe." Nik placed the deck down carefully and turned towards Soap. "The wrong way is to grab a random tuft," he lifted a large palm and snagged a handful of Soap's mohawk, shaking him from side to side, "and just start pulling them about. It is wrong. Hurts, no?"

"Ah, Jesus fuck, Nik," Soap squawked, batting at Nik's forearm. "Aye. Feels like ye scalpin' me."

Ghost returned, chuckling low in his throat at Soap's bleats of protest. He rolled his bally up over his nose and took a swig of bourbon, observing the little scene he'd stumbled back in on with interest. "Li'le scrote finally run his mouth too much, Nikolai?"

"Naw, Nik's showin' Garrick how t' pull a lady's hair in bed." Soap growled, head still tilted at an odd angle where Nik had scruffed the strip of ferret fur he called a hairstyle.

"Oh yeah?" Ghost's eyes slid over to Nik, lingering on the hand that released Soap's mohawk. "G'won then, show us the proper way."

"Regrettably, the sergeants both favour the short back and sides, but yours is longer." Nik rose to his feet, matching Ghost in height and bulk. Ghost's hackles should go up, but with Nik, they hadn't in years. It had something to do with how Price was around him, Ghost reckoned. When your damn leader relaxed, you were relaxed. Like a good dog. Nik spread his hands. "May I, lieutenant? Your mask will remain on."

"C'mon, L.T. Lessee."

"I'll buy you a drink at the pub when we get home, sir."

Ghost swallowed, levelling Nik with a heavy stare. "Ya pull my hairline as far as yours and we'll 'ave a problem," he murmured, emptying his glass before placing it down on the table. When Nik stepped into space, he got a hit of expensive cologne and engine oil that sat pleasantly on the back of his tongue. Damn handsome bastard too, all things considered. Ghost tried not to scrutinise what having him so close did to his heart.

Nik's hand settled on Ghost's shoulder first and then slid around the back of his neck, careful to keep his thumb tucked to avoid Ghost's throat.

"You slide your hand up their neck through the roots at the back," he said softly, his hand moving as he spoke, fingertips sliding beneath Simon's bally to the softness of his blond hair. "And you pull upwards, keeping your fingers close to their scalp."

What was left of Ghost's soul left his body momentarily as Nik pulled. His belly did a little flip, his knees suddenly weak, shoulders rising as he sucked in a shocked gasp. The sensation that bristled over his scalp settled behind his eyes, and they rolled closed as it continued down his spine. The world screeched to a halt as Ghost zeroed in on the man before him, his instincts firing off like sparkplugs in an engine struggling to turn over. Frozen.

Nik was watching him closely, his head tilted to the side. "It should not cause pain, but it is a... mammalian response, like a cat scruffing its kitten. It should inspire a feeling of pleasure in submission."

Ghost couldn't breathe. His eyes flickered open and he zoned in on Nik's dark eyes, the fullness of his lips and the unshaven scruff of stubble around his jawline. In that breathless moment, Ghost's entire body tingled with heat and want. He could feel Nik's warmth, so close and yet not touching him at all but for the hand in his hair; a sturdy bulwark waiting to catch him. What Ghost would give to press his face into the open collar of his shirt and rub through the dark hair he could see there, while--

"'Ear that, L.T.? Ye like a big fuckin' kitten."

Soap's jibe broke the spell and Nik released Ghost's hair, stepping out of his space to return to his seat. His gaze lingered on Ghost's eyes before he turned, and for a tense second Ghost was fockin' worried he'd be outed for whatever the hell that was. But Nik sat down with a nonchalant shrug.

"Shut it, Johnny," Ghost grunted. "Don' see what all the fuss is about."

"Aye, ye tell 'em, sir. Missionary with the lights off fully clothed is the only way, eh?"

Ghost flipped Soap his middle finger and grabbed his coat from the back of the chair. "Gonna hit the sack, long day tomorrow. Don' fuck around too late." He left the room at what he hoped was a reasonable pace, but his mind was already elsewhere, namely on the aching boner stretching down his right trouser leg. He was grateful no one could read minds; if he was thinking of Nik as he had a sad, furious and slightly drunk wank, then that was between him and god.

Nik watched Ghost's retreating back over the rim of his vodka glass, his head tilted to the side in thoughtful consideration. The embers he had watched flare to life in those somber brown eyes were unmistakable. He had seen similar in two twin baby blues only two mornings ago.

Khoroshego vam nastroyeniya i do vstrechi, Simon.

#cod nikolai #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #johnny soap mactavish #nikghost #cod #call of duty

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reignpage · 3 months ago

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Sweet Revenge

Summary: you get revenge on your cheating husband with Toji who isn't going to let the opportunity pass Word Count: quick read with 720 words Warnings: porn with little plot, unprotected sex, revenge sex, infidelity, cream pie, exhibitionism, single dad!toji, rough, manhandling, dirty talk, praise

Your husband is a cheating, lying bastard. He sucks. He’s ugly and fat and lazy and you hate him. For years, you had put up with the changes in him: he stopped showering frequently, no longer said please and thank you, didn’t ever bother taking you on a date. All of that you could take, even when you haven’t had an orgasm from him for years.

But the cheating on you…with your own sister!

That demands revenge.

That’s where Single dad!Toji comes in.

He’s your sister’s crush, the one she loves to see at the kindergarten when she picks up her son. She gushes over him all the time. Talking about how muscular he is, those damn biceps and that godforsaken smirk, the one that makes his scar stretch delectably.

You always shrugged her off.

But, well, she's right.

Single dad!Toji wastes no time in wrangling you against the wall, shoving his huge hand inside your leggings, straight into your panties as he rubs at your clit. Meanwhile, he’s swallowing every whine and moan with a sloppy kiss, gripping your throat with his other hand, making sure you’re pinned to the wall. God, his hands are calloused as fuck but it just makes your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“Finally thought I’m good enough to give a go?” He snarks. “Been eyeing you all year when you pick up your nephew, y’know?”

Single dad!Toji makes you cum on his fingers, curling three fingers inside to press incessantly at your g-spot whilst he thumbs at your little bud. He snorts when you claw at his chest, screaming about how you need more. So with a quick peck to your lips, he shoves your leggings and panties all the way down and spin you around. Your face is squished against the wall and a cool breeze is blowing all over your sloppy pussy.

“Toji! Fuck, I need you inside! Wanna cum on your cock, pleasepleaseplease,” you squeal when you feel him slide his cock between your legs, coating his long, thick length with your overflowing juices.

“Yeah, yeah. Relax ma, I’ll fuck ya so good you’ll forget all about your shitty husband.”

And God, does he?! He shoves his entire length at once, his heavy balls slapping your clit with every thrust, wringing moans and groans out of you. He’s kissing your cervix, branding bruises on your hips and biting your neck. Seriously, his dick game is fucking crazy, stretching you out like you never have been in your entire life. You forget all about your stupid husband and your stupid sister.

“Yes! Right there! Right there, oh god, Toji! Fuuuuckkk,” you scream. Your voice is growing hoarse and when he pulls your hair to shove his tongue down your throat, you lose your sanity. Everything about him is so big and hard and strong. And whilst he sucks on your bottom lip, he kneads your tits. “God, I fucking love you.”

Single dad!Toji laughs, punctuating his mocking words with deep thrusts. “Ha! Dick so good you fell in love? Marry me then, ma”

“WHAT?!” You screech when he starts pinching your clit, pummelling your pussy with his throbbing cock. “Marriage? Are you crazy?”

Single dad!Toji makes you cum. Your orgasm hits you like a truck. And his soon follows, powerful spurts painting your walls white with hot cum, and you know for a fact the fucking guy has strong swimmers.

“You’re gonna get me pregnant!”

He chortles, “Then you’ll have to marry me, fucking perfect.”

Single dad!Toji is still thrusting his softening cock inside of you, milking himself for everything he’s worth, really digging his cum inside to make sure it takes. And he’s still groping your tits. “Gonna love drinking from these when they’re all swollen up.”

“WHAT THE FUCK?!”

Both of you turn to look at the door. Your sister and your husband are gaping at you. She drops her groceries, oranges rolling on the floor.

Single dad!Toji smirks against your head before pressing a smooch there. Then he spins you around again, this time so he can bend you over to show them the cum leaking from your fluttering pussy.

“Welcome home, losers. You get to see your nephew’s conception, congrats. We’re expecting a sizeable gift at the baby shower, yeah?”

What the hell, sure.

#toji x reader #toji smut #toji drabble #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk fic #jjk drabble

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shotmrmiller · 10 months ago

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ps!ghost x of!f!reader au :)

It hadn't even been him who found you. It'd been Kyle.

Look at this lush little doll fuckin' herself on your cock.

Simon's chilled glass clinked on the marble tabletop of the bar as he placed it down, brows furrowed in response. He hadn't even gotten the chance to ask what the fuck Kyle was doing watching porn in public because he slid the phone over in a flash, and as soon as Simon's gaze shifted to the phone, his words instantly lodged into his throat.

You really were fucking yourself on his cock. Well, a replica of his cock. Simon found himself unable to look away. You were riding it, puffy lips spread wide as your cunt took every thick inch of the toy. The way you undulated your hips with every rise and fall had a familiar hunger gnawing at his insides, your fingers— so much smaller than his own— circling your bundle of nerves stoked the fire in his lower belly.

His tongue felt thick and heavy in his mouth when he noticed your soft thighs begin to tremble, the pace of your hand, glistening with your slick— oh, he'd pay for a little taste— quickening as you reached your climax. His teeth sunk into his bottom lip the same way he knows yours did too (it's a shame you're hiding that face of yours, he'd love to see if your eyes cross as you peak), and before the video got to his favorite part, Kyle quickly swiped his phone back.

Johnny's here. Wave 'im down.

Bastard. Good thing he took note of your name.

He'd signed up that same night and tugged his cock to that same video, this time with volume. You keened so prettily, a voice like honey and milk. Gasps when you lifted yourself until just the tip of it remained inside, mewls when you lowered yourself until your lips were flush against the silicone balls (those were inaccurate, he had a full, heavy set thank you very much). Simon stroked himself at your pace, a muted groan escaping him when you gave the toy a pointed thrust, cunt squelching as you did.

The sound you'd made as you climaxed was exactly like he'd thought it'd be, a hiccupped noise that came from the back of your throat, so real, genuine. It'd easily tossed him over his own edge, muscles taut and stomach tight as he spurts thick ropes of warm spend on himself, coating his dark trail of coarse hair under his navel and pubic area.

His cock had barely begun to soften, the loud ringing in his ears starting to fade when he came to a startling realization.

You'd whimpered his name— his stage name— as you hit your peak.

Simon quickly rewinds the video back a couple of seconds and watches intently as your hand stutters, frothy white desire at the base dribbling down in viscous drops (seriously, just a taste), your breath hitches, and—

There.

A warbled, slurred Ghost.

Well, well. Lucky him. He sends you a hefty tip, (for your service, pet) and turns on notifications for your profile. He'd hate to miss a live video of yours.

(His mind is already whirring with the thought of fucking you on his bed, just to see for himself if you really can take him the way you did the replica.)

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley smut #simon ghost riley x f reader

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ragingbookdragon · 1 year ago

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Whoever decided to ring her doorbell in the middle of a midnight thunderstorm was either a serial killer or a poor soul stuck out in the rain. Either way, she still felt sorry enough for whatever poor bastard was stuck outside and decided to open the door, but her expression dropped into annoyance when she saw the man leaning against the doorframe.

“Hey,” he murmurs, gazing at her. “Long time no see.” She starts to close the door and he sticks his foot in it. “Wait, please, don’t close me out.”

“Like you did to me,” she retorts, opening the door. “What do you want, Simon?”

He glances back towards the rainy street and hefts his rucksack higher on his shoulder. “To stay the night.”

“Seriously?”

“Please?” He begs and she pauses—Simon Riley wasn’t a man who begged often.

She gazes at him a moment longer before sighing and opening the door. “Clothes and shoes off at the door. Mask too. You’re soaking wet.”

“What gave you that ‘int? The rainstorm?”

Turning, she shoots him a glare. “I’m letting you stay the night despite you breaking my heart. I’d be a little less sarcastic.”

“Sorry,” he mutters, starting to strip his clothes as he shuts the door behind him. He hands her his clothes, standing in his boxers, then cups the front of himself and asks. “You wouldn’t happen to have any of my clothes shoved in the back of your closet…would you?”

“Bottom drawer in the chest of drawers.”

“You kept my clothes? Aw, you still car—” he falls silent when she glares at him. “Going now.”

As she disappears into the laundry room, she calls out, “What did you do, walk here from the base? You know Birmingham has cabbies, right?”

“I’m not wasting money to drive twenty minutes when I can walk within an hour.”

“You know you’ll get sick from this.”

“Wive’s tale. Can’t get sick from the rain.”

“Smart-ass,” she retorts, shoving his clothes in the dryer.

He comes around the corner, leaning against the doorway with a hand towel thrown over his shoulder, short blonde hair sticking up in all directions, evident he’d dried off with it.

“That is a decorative towel, not for use.” She glares at him. “You know that too.”

“You moved the other towels.”

“Oh, for god’s sake,” she mutters, then looks at him, eyes trailing down to where the sweatpants hung low on his hips. “Put a fucking shirt on, floozy.”

“I couldn’t find one,” he replies with a small smirk. “You must’ve used ‘em for fuel for the fireplace.”

She stands up straight and walks up to him. “Why are you here, Simon?” Her voice is quiet, calm, waiting.

He looks down at his feet, shifts his weight and murmurs, “Missed you.”

“You left me.”

“I know.”

“You start going to therapy yet?” She asks and he purses his lips.

“SAS doesn’t exactly offer therapy, y’know that, right? Not exactly ‘ow we operate.”

She crosses her arms over her chest. “You know I asked that friend of yours, what was his name? Soap? He said that the SAS offers routine psychiatric care and therapy. He also happened to mention you conveniently manage to get out of it every single time.”

Simon lets out a grunt and pinches his brow. “Soap can’t mind ‘is own fuckin’ business.”

“He’s your friend. And he was also drunk.” She waves a hand. “Regardless, you haven’t done the one thing I told you that you would have to do if you wanted to come back—no, when you came crawling back.”

“I don’t need therapy. I just want a second chance.” He shifts to his full height, looks at her with a pleading look. “Things were good between us, love. You know they were.”

“Sure, when you weren’t shutting down when you were hurting emotionally or running off to God knows where when you had a mission and didn’t leave me a notice.”

Simon sighs. “I was protectin’ you. I didn’t wanna drag you into all the shit I ‘ave to deal with on a daily. I didn’t want you to have to put up with��all of…”

She gives him a hard look. “Simon Riley, what part of me gave you the notion that I ever need to be protected or sheltered from what you do?”

He swallows thickly and gazes into her eyes. “Love…you’re too pure for me. What I do…you don’t need to know the horrors I’ve committed. You’re…you’re too beautiful for such things.”

“You mean how you kill people with no emotion? How you’ve taken lives with your bare hands? How you shove so much of yourself down into the black hole until there’s no humanity left but ‘Ghost’, the hollow killer?”

Simon stares at her, throat bobbing as he replies, “I can’t drag you to hell with me, it would kill me, love. What if—”

“Do you know the moment I knew I was in love with you?” She interrupts and he falls silent. “I was sick that one day a year ago, bad sick. And you told me not to go into work, but I didn’t listen and when I came home early, I could barely walk straight.” She places a hand on her hip. “And you helped me into the bathroom. Ran a bath in the dark, lit a few candles and you bathed me. Washed my hair. Took care of me. You were so gentle and so loving. Like a priest tasked with cleaning his alter, you cleansed me and made me feel safe.”

He shifts uncomfortably but his body language is anything but repulsed; it’s soft. “You started cryin’ when I was washin’ your hair. Thought I got soap in your eyes. But you said you just felt so loved.” He smiles then. “You were like a kitten really. Could barely lift your head. So tired and weak.”

“Mhm. And then you tucked me into bed and crawled beneath the covers with me. Laid up beside me, never once acted sexual. Just…caring.” She looks at him. “Do you remember what I said to you before I went to sleep?”

“No,” he mutters but he looks up at the ceiling and she knows he’s lying, it’s his tell-tale sign.

She gives him the benefit of the doubt and closes the distance between them, lays her hands on his chest, and says, “I said, ‘This is the real man beneath all that coldness. The real Simon. The one I knew I loved more than anything. No matter what.’”

Simon shudders beneath her touch, feels weak in his knees like he might drop to his and worship at her feet, beg for forgiveness like a sinner in confession. His chest aches, tightening as the words tear violently at his chest, a reminder that he left one of the only good things to ever come into his life, all because he was too afraid to let the walls come down, too afraid to be vulnerable, too afraid to risk being hurt—because if she hurt him, he’d never come back from it. In the end, he’d felt like a fool trying to protect a damsel who never needed saving in the first place; and he was left with the realization that she’d been protecting him the entire time.

“I know what you do, Simon. I know it’s hard, even if you don’t think it is. I know that no matter how you push your humanity down into that hole that it’s still there. I know killing someone takes something from you every time but, Simon, I’m not your enemy. I love you.” Her eyes are calm, but her voice is firm. “And I will not stand on the outside of the lines under some guise of protection. You either be upfront and honest with me about everything or you leave, and you don’t come back.”

Simon knows she’s asking him to choose now, and he feels that creeping anxiety rise in his throat like bile until he manages, “Can…can we talk about everything in the morning?”

She sighs and pulls her hands away. “Yeah, I guess so. Sheets and blankets are in the hall closet. You know where the couch is.”

“You’re not going to let me sleep in the bed?” He sounds incredibly offended.

“Couch, Riley.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbles, but he can’t help but smile when she sets the bedding out on the couch for him. “Goodnight, love,” he murmurs as she passes, and her shoulders tense and she waves a hand.

“Goodnight, Simon.”

He sits on the couch for a few moments, watches the rain splatter against the window, the clock ticking on the wall, before he pulls out his phone and simply types, “I love you,” and sends it.

It’s quiet for a solid ten seconds before he hears, “You absolute bastard!” From the bedroom followed by, “Get in here!”

Simon gives a victory dance as he clears his throat and attempts to look innocent as he steps into her bedroom; she glowers and points to the other side. “You’re on that side.”

“You can make me,” he retorts and crawls into the middle of the bed, groaning when all the bones in his body snap and pop.

She rolls her eyes and goes back to her book, but after a moment, she shifts against the headboard, getting comfortable again. Simon lifts his head, watches her, then he moves and lays his head in her lap, his arms wrapped around her hips under the pillows behind her. Her eyes rise to the wall in front of her and she stares unamusedly at it before she switches the book into her other hand and rests her right hand at the back of his neck, gently thumbing the juncture of his spine and skull. He groans beneath her touch, shifts himself so that she has control over moving him, body going slack when she scratches her nails into his scalp.

“You’re like a cat,” she mutters, feeling his lips turn up against her thigh.

“Meow,” he mimics, and she snorts, feeling him move until his head is pressed into her stomach, face turned so she can see the right profile.

He watches until she puts the book down on her nightstand and turns into him; they gaze at each other, and his eyes gently shut when she cups his face, thumbs brushing over his features.

“You know I’m giving you another chance, don’t you?”

Simon swallows the lump in his throat and nods. “…yeah.”

“But we’ve gotta change. Or else we’ll end up back where we were before we broke up.”

“I know.” He opens his eyes and looks at her. “I’ve missed you, love.”

“I’ve missed you too,” she murmurs, bending down to press her lips to his forehead. “Doesn’t feel the same without you haunting my apartment.”

His lips turn up in a smile as she pulls back and lays on the pillows; Simon rises and crawls up her body, his nose brushing hers as he whispers, “I’ll do better for you. I’ll change. I swear it.”

“Yeah?”

His gaze turns solemn in a way she’s never seen before as he replies, “On their grave, I will.”

She smiles softly at him, pulls him down so his face is tucked in her neck, and replies, “Get some sleep.”

“I love you,” he mutters against her warm skin, arms tucked safely around her, body weight comfortably on her. “I love you more than the world.”

“I love you,” she says back, reaching up to turn off the lamp on the nightstand.

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dreamerimpossible · 2 months ago

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Slasher Jealousy Scale

Warnings: Unhealthy relationships, in certain cases yandere tendencies, +18 content.

Michael Myers 3/10

Not too jealous. He usually doesn't understand the reason for those feelings. Furthermore, no one would be able to touch what he marked for him, his superhuman strength and imposing figure would be on top of anyone who dared to look in your direction. So, he would never get jealous. There's just no need.

Chucky 8/10

Completely canonical that he's a jealous bastard. Just tell him he's not man enough for you and he'll get on top of you without thinking twice forcing you to back off. The person who set his sights on you doesn't have a good destiny, obviously. In reality, it's not good to play with him, his pride as a man is too strong.

Billy Loomis 9/10

Abandonment issues become too present. He doesn't like you getting close to too many guys. If his partner knows his true nature, he will be overly controlling and possessive, he would not like his partner to get too close to friends who could be a threat to their relationship. He is quite manipulative and will use such tactics to get you to stay away from those he doesn't like.

Stu Macher 6/10

Medium level of jealousy. He doesn't like being replaced by someone else, but he won't show much of a reaction if you talk to friends who like you. Anyway, he is also popular and will interact with all types of people. However, if he sees something very noticeable, he will pull the strings underneath and that person who made him jealous will magically disappear. For the sake of the relationship, don't talk about it.

Patrick Bateman 10/10

All your attention should be directed at him. The more genuine your interest and compliments, the more he will seek your attention, so making him jealous and paying attention to someone else would be the end of it. He needs complete devotion. He won't tolerate distractions and could take care of them. Making him feel insecure indirectly is not the best option you could take. It is better to dedicate everything to him.

Jason Vorhees 10/10

He literally keeps you locked up, that is the most representative indication of the matter. He does not like those people standing over you looking at you with lust. He is the only one you need. Yes, he will take care of you and protect you. You should be calm.

Leatherface 10/10

Too insecure with himself, so he expects you to have impeccable behavior. Although luckily for you, you will not have too many moments in which he will get jealous because your only environment is his family. So you must treat them with respect and with certain limits and distance. If not, he will get frustrated. And we know his way of dealing with that.

Art The Clown 2/10

He is not jealous, everything for him is a violent game. If someone flirts with you, he will laugh and do his thing with the same energy as always. Although he won't tolerate you ridiculing him, if you flirt with someone, you will pay, but not because he gets jealous, but because he is the one who makes the rules, not you.

Jason Dean 10/10

Dependent, possessive and obsessive. He's literally a warning in and of himself. Seriously, don't flirt or let yourself be flirted with. Don't break up with him, don't walk away from him, don't stop paying attention to him. Just don't leave him, he's very jealous and won't let you go for any reason. Oh, he's also manipulative, so he'll definitely get you to walk away from that harmless guy in your class.

Alex DeLarge 2/10

He doesn't formally qualify as a slasher, but I'm including him anyway. I don't really see him as jealous, he's more of a controlling guy. He doesn't like having his first choice role in other people's lives taken away from him, he is the leader and the one who commands, but he won't get jealous of anyone, because he thinks highly of himself and is charming when he wants to be. He probably has you wrapped around his finger, so…why get jealous?

Brahms 15/10

He won't let you leave the house for that reason. He doesn't want you to leave him, any outsider is a threat. You are only his, you must accept that. However, even if you accept it, he will still be jealous, because he can't help it. If you want to go out somewhere, he will wonder if it is because you want to see someone.

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sparklykaminarii · 7 months ago

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men who are just an absolute pain in the ass...

they're always stirring up some trouble. whether that be starting some drama between people or simply annoying people because they find it "funny"

or just straight up annoying YOU. their so-called "girlfriend". no matter what it seems like he'll never stop teasing you. he's always reminding you about the embarrassing time you tripped and fell in front of everybody at the grocery store, or the time you accidentally spat in him while talking super fast.

he's not only annoying. no. he's the most cocky and cunning bastard you've ever met in your whole life. seriously what guy whispers the most horny and lewd sentences into your ear, and then proceed to wear the most naive and innocent face ever. oh how you want to slap that stupid shit eating grin right off his face!

"remember last night when you were crying for my cock to fill you up? you looked so dumb begging f'me like that sweetheart... seriously"

"when we get home, I'm going to rip that skirt in half. you'd like that wouldn't you? you like it whenever I treat you like a worthless sexdoll, hm?"

and when you get home it's not a different story either. you're bent over the kitchen counter, the skirt being lifted up because you're boyfriend couldn't bother to at least take it off.

below you lay the new panties you just bought. not even a week ago. they're ripped in half all because your boyfriend couldn't spare another second to ease his angry erection. he doesn't care. why should he? he could always get you some new ones, he'll even help you pick them out

your hands are gripping the countertop tightly, holding on for dear life as the rapid feeling of skin slapping follows suit. your legs feel numb and your mind is gummylike, no thoughts. only the feeling of a pulsating cock being slammed in and out of you.

your boyfriend is behind you, groaning like a bitch in heat. he's so loud you wonder if the neighbors ever complain about him. hes whimpering out your name alongside many curses. you should really scold him for having such a potty mouth.

but why should you, he tugs on your hair just perfectly, making you look directly into his eyes. they're half lidded and look so pussy drunk and his mouth slightly agape. you'd hate to admit it but he looks so good all desperate and needy like this.

as your daydream slowly ends the reality of life hits you when you start to actually listen what your boyfriend's been rambling about. "fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck baby... shit im gonna fill ya up okay? shit keep looking at me like that pretty girl..." he cries.

"wait!- no don't!-" but it's too late. one last thrust and warm silky strings of cum shoot throughout your body, your boyfriends hips shaking as he fills you up.

"whoops!" he mutters from behind you.

that son of a bitch.

GOJO, geto, toji, SERO, bakugo, denki, dabi, HAWKS, DAZAI, eren, + any of ur favs!!

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cryingpariah · 3 months ago

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Every time some [INSERT FILLER INSULT HERE] bastard says Vivi can’t be the final Strawhat because she’s not strong or implies Luffy picks his crewmates based on how useful they are I want to legally change my name to Kyle so I can go around punching holes in drywall without consequences.

Powerscalers have their heads so shoved up Akainu's ass I’m seriously questioning if they really watch the show at all. Luffy has not and will not EVER pick a crewmate based solely on usefulness to him when this exact line of thinking pissed him off so bad during Arlong Park and his fight with Arlong.

Luffy picked Nami without ever seeing her actually navigate, he wanted Sanji without trying his cooking, he chose Chopper simply for being a fellow monster, he wasnt even aware little dude was even a doctor. He didn’t know what a Poneglyph was when he accepted Robin as one of their own. The same Luffy who considers one of the most important aspects of pirate life to be music and consistently saying how badly they need a musician??

I just know we aren’t talking about the guy that wanted to recruit a tree in Thriller Bark like this. “Oh but that was just a gag.” Maybe to us but not to Luffy, he really wanted that tree.

Luffy picked the people on his crew because he likes them, he’s an insanely good judge of character with a high level for emotional intelligence and people willfully choosing to ignore that undermines his character a lot.

The character you’re looking for? The one that picks his crew based solely on power and what they can do for him is Blackbeard. You know, THE ANTI-LUFFY.

DPMO and hop off my goat please and thank you.

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harunayuuka2060 · 1 month ago

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WHB Not A Descendant (Cont.)

Lucifer: How does this make you feel? *lightly touching the small horns that appeared on their head*

MC: Stupid.

Lucifer: ...

Lucifer: Please take this seriously.

MC: *lets out a tired sigh*

Leviathan: What is it? Have they turned into a devil?

Lucifer: It's hard to say. They don’t show the typical reactions of a devil when their horns are touched.

Beelzebub: A devil who doesn't feel pleasure? Keke. That's funny.

Lucifer: Let me conduct a few tests. *starts tickling their sides*

MC: *laughing* Stop! *delivers an uppercut to Lucifer*

Lucifer: !!!

Buer: Your Majesty Lucifer!

Lucifer: ...

Lucifer: I am fine.

Lucifer: They can still respond to external stimuli, though it's perplexing why the pleasure response is absent.

Satan: What were you doing back in your world?

MC: Minding my own business?

Satan: *frowns*

Mammon: *chuckles* Anyway, I think we should-

Asmodeus: Oh, is that the new devil I've heard about?

Satan, Leviathan, and Mammon: ...

Beelzebub: Haha, yes! Are you here to check?

Asmodeus: *smiles seductively* Of course. What do we have here, hm?

MC: *stares at Asmodeus in disbelief*

Sitri: MC! Don't look at him!

Asmodeus: *smirks*

MC: ...

MC: Nuh-uh. *stands up and quickly runs out of the room*

The kings: ...

Asmodeus: ...?

MC: *locks themselves in their box*

Sitri: MC? What's wrong?

Foras: Please tell us what's bothering you.

Satan: I understand that any devil would be scared of that bastard, but it was their first time seeing him.

Leviathan: Based on their reaction, it seemed like they didn’t want to engage with him again.

Mammon: Could it be they met him in the human world?

Beelzebub: That might be the case. *knocks on the box*

Beelzebub: MC, have you met Asmodeus before?

MC: ...

MC: *opens the lid* Asmodeus?

The kings: ...

Satan: You don't know him? Then why did you run?

Leviathan: Who did you think it was?

MC: *their face turned sour* William.

The devils: ...

The devils: Who's William?

Asmodeus: *chuckles* I understand now. William is one of my children.

Asmodeus: He's an Unholyc.

Beelzebub: I see- Wait. You're friends with his child?

MC: No. I was only friends with Mir.

Asmodeus: Oh! My cute daughter! *chuckles* It's rare for me to meet a friend of hers.

MC: ...

MC: It's nice to meet you... sir.

Asmodeus: Are you not going to shake my hand or kiss my cheek?

MC: ...

MC: *reluctantly shakes his hand*

MC: Your hand feels sticky.

Asmodeus: Ah, forgive me. I touched myself earlier.

MC: ...

MC: Yuck. *pulls back their hand and shakes it, as if flicking off the germs*

Asmodeus: *chuckles*

Sitri: *feeding MC because they refused to use their hands*

Satan: You just shook his hand.

MC: *shakes their head*

Sitri: *smiles* I'll have to feed you then, starting today.

MC: Thanks, Sitri-hyung. You're the best.

Sitri: *chuckles*

Satan: Tch. Look at you getting fooled. They're not even tryna be cute.

#what in hell is bad #whb mc #whb asmodeus #whb satan #whb lucifer #whb leviathan #whb mammon #whb beelzebub #whb sitri #whb foras #whb buer #whb not a descendant

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theealbatross · 4 months ago

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isn't it delicate? (s.s.)

Plot: Sebastian is your best friend ... right?

or, Sebastian is being bullied (false), you can't possibly be falling in love with him (false), and he might have already, possibly, maybe, fallen in love with you too (true).

Tags: fluff on crack, jealousy, seb is a shit senior/lowkey bully (not rlly), imelda and ominis deserves reparations for their service to wizardkind, yandere!seb if u squint, kinda ooc but who cares, mentions of death and murder (rip anne, rot in hell solomon)

[A/N: This is me trying to beat writer's block if you even care. The scene in his dorm was so fucking difficult to write it was beating my ass. Anyways stream Delicate by T.Swizzle. Also, none of the photos are mine don;t sue me im poor]

Autumn was your favorite season – especially since it makes your short walks to Hogsmeade especially scenic.

After accepting defeat and admitting that you were hopeless at Herbology, you have made it a point to visit the Magic Neep every weekend to buy whatever you haven’t gathered yourself. The walk was a good excuse to get out from the walls of Hogwarts every now and then.

It’s surprising how loose the villagers are with their gossip when they’re just talking to a teenager. Plus, you do enjoy spending the afternoon with Mr. Timothy as he helps you improve your rubbish-handling skills with plants.

A noise from above alerts you that Imelda had the rookies on her team running drills just outside the quidditch field. The new players fight through the wind resistance as they make sharp turns and loops while they scream at each other in encouragement.

However, you can’t help but notice when one of them pointed at you while the other flew towards the stadium in a haste as if his broom had been on fire.

Shrugging it off, you continued your pace, waving at familiar faces as you passed. You were just about to approach a couple of 2nd years you had been tutoring in Charms when there was a sharp breeze from above followed by a familiar silhouette dropping in front of you.

“Fun walk, pet?” he smirked when you jumped in surprise, roping you into a hug. From behind you, he casually shoo-ed off the 2nd years with a subtle flick of his head.

“Ew, Sebastian, no! You’re sweaty!”

Rather than acting like a gentleman, he drew you in close, leaning down to rub his cheeks against your neck despite your shrieks of protest as he lifted your feet off the ground.

Finally, you managed to push his stubborn form away, wiping away the skin that was now smeared in his sweat but he still managed to get ahold of your hand, pulling you close so you had to look up at him. Bastard.

Suddenly, it clicks, “Did you seriously have your rookies keep an eye on me?”

“It’s good practice,” He shrugged shamelessly, looking up at them in scrutiny, “Trains them to have sharp eyes, remain vigilant of their surroundings, and watch out for pretty witches on the ground that might be distracting while they’re in the skies.”

You slapped his chest, trying to ignore the burn on your face from his casually tossed compliments—and how solid he felt beneath his gear. “You and your brilliant ideas, Sallow.”

With the backbreaking, secret work (“You’ll see it soon enough, pet”) he does in Feldcroft to pass time along with the training he receives from Imelda along with a sprinkle of his glorious genetics, it was no wonder his social standing recovered as quickly as it did even when whispers of forbidden magic still followed him wherever he goes.

Not that he cared, you noticed. As he was clearly more than satisfied in spending his time with the same circle of friends despite the many girls that were bidding their time to steal him.

“Soooo, is there a real reason you had them monitoring me or is it just your unique form of torture?”

��Oh right,” you didn’t notice before but he had been carrying one of his satchels, digging into it to pull a grey knitted scarf that had an owl at the end of it. Before you could say anything, he was already wrapping it around your neck, even pulling up your hair for a second and tutting under his breath how ‘you never dress warm enough’. “It’s your scarf for autumn.”

It was tradition – something that started the first time you visited Feldcroft and he had let you borrow a spare scarf from his closet because you had lost yours in your haste to get to him. It was silly but that was the first time (aside from the troll) the two of you got into a real battle with only each other to watch the other’s back.

The scarf had become a source of comfort, especially on the nights that you had to do it on your own.

However, to Sebastian’s horror, you had worn the piece of cloth ragged. Refusing to let go of it because it was the first gift he had given to you. From then on, a compromise was established, he would be in charge of buying (and confiscating) your scarfs and you would pay him for it.

Only one of you held your end of the deal.

“And wear this,” he pushed your head on the hole of a sweater, helping you find the arms despite your grumblings about his fussing. “It’s getting colder now and you never wear your coat. And since we're always together, If you get sick that means I get sick. So please,” he glares at your petulant pout. “Spare us both.”

“I’m sorry, mom,” you rolled your eyes. He pinched your cheeks painfully. “Hey!”

“No smart talk,” he chastises, chuckling. “And you better be back in the Great Hall once I’m finished here.”

You wave him off as you walk away. “Why? I like having you chase me around.”

“Don’t even think about it!” He screams, hands on his hips.

You laugh, poking your tongue out at him.

“Thanks for the scarf!”

“Do you have drills this weekend, ‘melda?”

Imelda stopped chewing her food to look at you with a raised, suspicious, brow. “No, why?”

You clapped your hands cheerfully, “I wanted to take Sebastian out on a day trip to Pitt-Upon-Ford before you guys start training for the upcoming game. One of the villagers told me a wild Dugbog was getting too aggressive and started killing their chickens.”

She nodded understandingly.

“Not the most romantic date but sure, just bring him back to the Quidditch Pitch in one piece by Monday.”

The nonchalant accusation plucked just the right string as your face morphed into a mixture of surprise, discomfort, and a hint of embarrassment. “It’s not a date! And how would you know what’s romantic?”

Imelda chuckled, raising her hands in mock surrender, “Alright, alright, don’t get your knickers in a twist.”

“Melda!” you shrieked, face heating up even more when you realized you had caught the attention of other students at the nearby tables. “I’m just worried about him.”

That made the Quidditch Captain frown, what is there to worry about? Is Sebastian having a tough time again? Imelda may be a bit dense regarding other people’s emotions but even she could tell losing his uncle and his twin sister in such quick succession had quite a toll on her friend.

It would take quite a toll on anyone.

But Imelda was sure he had been managing well, especially with his dearest witch by his side who, if the rumor mills were to be believed, basically spent all summer nursing him back to health. Not that she could blame her, from what Ominis told Imelda, Sebastian had damn near been catatonic and wouldn’t give anyone the time of the day unless it was you.

“Is he alright?”

You were quick to wave off her worries with a hand and a nervous smile, “No, he’s fine! Doing better than fine. It’s just … I’m worried he might be getting … bullied.”

In the confusion between laughing or swallowing or insisting that even a full-grown troll wouldn’t be able to bully Sebastian Sallow, Imelda instead choked on the pumpkin juice she was nursing.

“Imelda!”

She stops your fussing with a raised hand before speaking through the pain. “What *cough* What ever gave you such a ludicrous idea?”

You fiddle with your hands, clearly having kept this ceaseless worry for quite a bit of time. “Because Sebastian – ever since – he’s not particularly … very nice. Plus, there are all these ridiculous rumors of him being a dark wizard,” you roll your eyes but Imelda can still see the poorly concealed anxiety in them. “I’m scared he’s being ostracized. And I can’t be with him forever, you know.”

“Did you tell him that? Because I have a baaaad feeling the two of you aren’t on the same page.” Imelda is fairly certain Sebastian has already named their future children and dogs if you asked her. And if there was anyone that could have some sort of sway on that stubborn mule it would probably be you.

You shook your head, “He’s a man. He’ll just tell me not to worry about it.”

“Not worry about what?”

“Godric’s bloody heart! Sebastian, you scared me!”

“She thinks you’re being bullied.”

Without missing a beat Sebastian just bashfully smiled and pressed a kiss to the top of your head before straddling the bench to sit facing you amidst Imelda’s gagging. “Aw, you’re sweet, pet.”

Imelda watched in horror and disbelief as Sebastian just ignored her and cooed at you, teasingly trying to press kisses at your cheeks while you pushed away his face.

“Are you not even gonna deny that?”

“Should I?” Sebastian continued to stare as you stood up quickly, a flimsy excuse of getting some pastries on the other side of the table while huffing at Sebastian about misbehaving in public and creating misunderstandings. “I quite like it when I’m the only thing in her mind.”

“You’re seriously sick in the head, you know that?” she crosses her arms, studying him as his eyes stayed stuck while you got roped into a conversation with other students you were too polite to end quickly.

Sebastian just grinned, popping a grape into his mouth. “Of course, I know that.”

Suddenly, his gaze shifted to the side, spotting a sixth-year slyly stealing glances and eavesdropping on their conversation. He slammed his hands on the table, startling them. “Can I help you?”

“N-No – I’m sorry, Sebastian!”

Imelda shook her head, as the nosy students dispersed, prematurely ending their dinners. “Bullied, my arse.”

“Oh, if we have drills this weekend I won’t go, we’re going on a date.”

“I know that, Sallow.”

“Cheers, Reyes,” Sebastian tapped his fingers on the table twice and winked at his captain goodbye. Imelda watched as her prized beater decided he was done sharing you for the night. In a speed befitting a Seeker, he walked in your direction to grab you and your plate full of sweets towards the exit as you haphazardly screamed a goodbye to the witch.

Imelda stares at her cup before sighing, “Merlin, help her.”

Last night was the first time you had a dream about him.

Not a nightmare of losing him or a terrible recollection of the crimes you have buried together in the past – but a dream. A sweet, fuzzy dream that had you staring at your ceiling in a confusing blend of horror and butterflies as fuzzy memories of the touch of his lips on yours burned your cheeks.

You slap a pillow over your face.

“No, no, no.”

It would have been easier if it had been a nightmare. With one letter you and Sebastian would already be cocooned up the Room of Requirement and you would find sleep again under his careful watch.

But who do you call for this? When the one person you tell everything to is the one who can’t know.

This can’t be happening. You can’t do this to him.

You’ve been faintly aware of an attraction budding inside of you for your dear friend but you thought it was normal. Who wouldn’t be attracted to Sebastian?

He was tall, tanned, broad, and had that irresistible, mischievous grin that spells trouble—but somehow, it works. Because handsome features aside, he was protective, thoughtful, and was someone you could talk to for the rest of your days and never get bored with.

He’s your best friend.

And …

And you dreamt of kissing him.

You scream into your pillow.

Along with the life-shattering realization in the dark of the night is another horrible one in the morning: you’re probably not the only one who dreamt of kissing him.

You stare in horror at the small crowd of giggling girls that trailed after him, roping him into a conversation even when he politely excused himself once he saw you.

When has this happened?

The year you met, the two of you had been bombarded with problems bigger than each other that silly things like romance and crushes and jealousy were shoved and locked to the back of your minds. The year after that was spent recovering -- you had basically spent all of your days huddled together in whatever corner you both could find, too on guard to even think of socializing properly with other students.

Now, as you stand next to him, on the way to your next class, you finally see what you had been so obtusely blind to.

In a moment of grim clarity, you twigged that your good friend, one you had barely accepted as the boy that holds your adoration, was a handsome, talented gentleman in the race to become the most successful wizard to graduate in your year.

Of course, he would be bloody popular.

“Hey.”

You were so used to being at the center of all his attention (as depressing the context was) that you didn’t even comprehend otherwise – missed the flutter of their lashes, their shy giggles as he passed, or the coquettish whispers that followed him wherever he goes despite his aloof demeanor.

A couple of 5th-year Ravenclaws greet Sebastian sweetly as you pass by. You flinch at the tilt in their voice.

“Are you alright?” Sebastian notices the grimace in your face as you turn a corner, hands quickly soothing the back of your spine.

Well, you definitely see it now.

“I think I’m going to be sick.”

Avoiding him was definitely the wrong move – heedless, moronic, selfish –

But in your panic, it was the only move you had.

So, yes, it is horrendously short-term and stupid and back floating in the middle of the Black Lake in the morning of your weekend even more so.

Still, you and Sebastian had agreed months before the start of the term to pick mostly the same subjects as your last year, an idea that is now gloriously clashing with your ‘avoiding-him’ plans. Hence, you had no choice but to find solace in the big lake, submerging your ears under the water to tune out the noise of the rest of the world as you tried to think out of this predicament you have checkmated yourself in.

You are a brilliant student, a great strategist, and a powerful witch; you should be able to fix this.

He is suspicious, you know him well enough to know he’s slowly catching on to the fact that you would rather fight a graphorn wandless than be anywhere near him. He won’t be able to let it go. He’ll dig his claws in your brain and rip the reasons out of your mouth himself – which is something he definitely can’t find out.

You … like Sebastian – might even love him.

It’s the first time you admitted it to yourself, dunking yourself in the frigid waters to scream underwater (scaring the poor squid) before floating on your back again when you’ve sufficiently calmed down. You must positively look like an idiot but you have bigger fishes to fry than looking sane.

“I love Sebastian,” you whispered, trying and failing to get used to the idea, even if it was just on your tongue.

Should you tell him? That would be … difficult.

Everything is too delicate.

Your friendship was barely dangling on a thread a few months ago. If it wasn’t for your insistence to spend your summer together mending whatever was left of him and your bond outside the horrors in Feldcroft and in the small estate Professor Fig had left for you, you might’ve lost him altogether.

He tries hard to move on from it, to atone quietly, become a better man but you know he’s still struggling. On the worst nights you’ll find him staring at the empty walls of the Undercroft curled in on himself until you unwrap him out of his worst nightmares and into your arms.

Your feelings seemed infinitesimal compared to the demons he is fighting inside his head.

Does he even feel the same? Would he?

If you tell him, would you just become another one of his problems?

You slapped a hand on the water, trying to find the best outlet to let out your frustrations so you could piece together some form of answer or plan, cursing when a drop of water conveniently landed on your eye.

Realistically, he has his pick of the litter right now. Pretty girls tripping over themselves to be noticed by him. Beautiful, untraumatized, clean slates who would definitely be a sweeter companion than you.

The thought of seeing him with another makes your hands tremble – a strange combination of unjust anger, boiling jealousy, and a hint of heavy sadness flowing in your veins.

It feels strange to have your roles flipped. When you had arrived you were the new kid, a limelight at your every move and it was Sebastian who was always chasing after you, beating anyone else to hog your attention. As sick as it is to admit, you preferred it that way.

Being the jealous one wasn’t the kind of tune you were used to dancing in.

If you weren’t so caught up with saving the world maybe you would’ve been able to chain him to you.

Maybe it is too late now.

It feels unfair to add your confusion and emotions as yet another burden for Sebastian, who already carries so much. He’s happy now, finally finding some peace and stability. You refuse to be the one to break it all down.

You won't be another sin he'll have to take responsibility for, another person he stands to lose.

It's fine. This is fine.

“Accio.”

Your view went from the blue sky to a haze as you got rudely plucked out of the water and back into shore, face-to-face with the boy who had haunted your every waking (and sleeping) moment.

If you hadn’t been so dizzied you would’ve been offended.

“S-Sebastian?”

He does not look pleased. Fuck, fuck, fu –

“How many times must I tell you I don’t like chasing you around.” He quips but quickly removes his robes to wrap them around you. It was only when your feet were back on the ground did you realize all the eyes on you and the scene he had created.

Sebastian glared at the group of boys gawking and they scattered like ants. What a tyrannical senior he had turned out to be. You can’t believe you were worried about him getting harassed a few weeks ago. “We’re going back to the dorm to get you changed.”

Wait – what – “’s going on?”

One second you were having a heartbreaking crisis in the lake and in a blink, you were in his arms getting dragged barefooted back up the stairs.

He suddenly stopped waking, your face smashing into his back. You took quick steps backward when he gave you the most offended look on his face.

“I’m sorry,” Oh no, you’ve messed up somehow. “Did you have somewhere more important to be than on one of my games?”

Ohhhh shit.

“N-No! I – I didn’t forget I swear it just … slipped my mind for a moment –”

And you didn’t! You even prepared your ensemble for today last night; it was hanging on your closet before you left your room. However, as you focused on not being seen by Sebastian the day had escaped you.

Your excuses seemed to just infuriate him even further because he just firmly grabbed your hand again and tugged you into the nearest floo. When you have teleported to the familiar walls of your Common Room you stopped on your tracks at the risk of lighting his fuse.

“I’m sorry. I promise I didn’t forget. I have my outfit ready in my –”

He stared, looking over your (no doubt) pitiful dripping form before sighing, pulling you so he could wrap an arm around your shoulders. “Let’s go to my room. We need to talk.”

It shouldn’t make you feel like a sulking child, but the way you are trailing from beside him with your head down had you fitting just the part. However, two firm squeezes on your shoulders were Sebastian’s silent way of telling you he wasn’t bringing you to his abode for a fight.

With his door closed and a quick silencing charm (when has he gotten so good at Charms) he was quick to pull out a spare skirt from the bottom of his bunk, unhooking one of his jerseys before handing it to you.

“Is this my skirt?”

A less secure boy would’ve been flustered but he just shrugged, you hate how his confidence just made him more attractive. “You left it when we were studying late here and you borrowed one of my sleeping shorts. Figured I’d just keep it here in case of emergencies.”

Even his reasoning was perfectly endearing and thoughtful. Clearing your throat, you gave him a grateful smile before going behind the dressing screen.

It was a few minutes of reprieve before he started his interrogation.

“Care to explain why I’ve barely seen you today?”

“Oh, I was just bu –”

“Or this entire week at all?”

You silently winced, seriously considering just apparating from behind the flimsy wood separating you. Though you had a feeling he'd just hunt you down again and that would just be awkward.

Because as much as he claims to hate chasing you, he does a perfectly good job at it.

Peeking from behind the wooden cover you flinched when he was already staring.

With a quiet sigh, he unwrapped his scarf from his own neck and threw it on his bed, his hands enclosed around each other as he leaned on his legs.

“I’m all ears, darling.” His frustration was evident, yet he was clearly extending his patience for you—a surprise, given his reputation for having a short fuse.

You finish zipping up your clothes, steeling yourself from behind the wooden screen before finally gathering all the courage you could muster and finally going out of your hiding spot and meeting his eye.

It was silent for a couple of long seconds before he decides to cut the tension by reaching out a reassuring hand which you quickly and gratefully accepted, letting yourself be dragged in between his legs as he stares up at you.

“Did I do something?”

“No!” You quickly reach a hand to his messy, brown, locks to placate him. A small smile gracing your face when he nodded quietly, earnest eyes hanging on to your every word. “It’s just …”

You squeaked when the door suddenly opened.

“Sebastian, Imelda said to get on the fie –”

“Out!”

“I’m sorry! I didn’t know your girlfriend – the captain said – I’ll let her know! I’m sorry!”

The door slammed with an echo, and Sebastian slumped into your stomach, hands loosely on the back of your knees. Despite the relief at being cut off, you can’t help but share his frustration. However, it didn't escape your notice his failure to correct what you believe is a common assumption among his teammates.

“We should go before it’s Imelda who bursts in next time. I think she won’t be as kind to your door.”

He sighs, nods, and stands up. However, instead of guiding you back to the floo he pulled you closer into him until you had to stand on the tip of your toes. His hooded eyes run through every inch of your face as he cradles it firmly, his work-worn thumb caressing your cheek gently while his other hand pulls you until you have to rely on his solid body for balance.

“Don’t think we’re finished talking about this,” he warns, his grip on your cheeks going tighter for a split second as the intensity of his gaze sharpens and he returns to the sweet, charming boy that stole your heart.

This is exactly what you had feared. Secrets weren’t a concept familiar to the two of you. Now that he had sniffed it out, it is only a matter of time before he gets to the bottom of it.

He gives you a mischievous smile at the unmistakable horror and guilt on your face, then leans in to press a kiss to your hairline. "Stop trying to run away from me while I'm still being nice."

"This is you being nice?" you tease but he only chuckles. "Maybe I should be running faster."

"You can play chase all you want, pet. But your chances of getting away from me are --" He mouths 'zero'.

"Oh? Zero?"

"To none."

The two of you laugh, and all at once, the small argument, the days spent avoiding him, and the guilt you feel about your emotions are lifted from your chest as you reach a bittersweet conclusion.

This was for the best.

This is how it's supposed to be. You shouldn't ask for more, not right now.

As long as he can keep laughing like a boy his age should after being forced to grow up so fast, and you remain each other's safe haven you can always retreat to, and he continues to look at you just ... like ... that ...

And you see it. Clear as day, you almost want to laugh at how silly and blind you had been.

In fast progression, you run through your memories, and it feels like falling through the ice-cold waters of the lake surrounding Hogwarts, like the path to Hogsmeade after an autumn rain -- clear and refreshing.

He hooks a strand of hair behind your ear and you realize that he knows you've finally figured it out.

"Is that a promise?" you ask.

It should be terrifying, it should terrify you – what you realize is his need for control of everything regarding you, his barely hidden obsession you had missed all this time, his unwavering dedication that only now did you see the depth of.

Instead, you beam, heart fluttering and meeting his commitment with a kiss pressed on his thumb.

You’re in love with Sebastian Sallow.

And for the first time since the two of you met, you finally see it – Sebastian Sallow might also be a bit in love with you.

"I promise."

“I know it’s been a while since I’ve been here but has the house gotten bigger?”

Sebastian stops his search on one of the chests in the storage to look back on his friend by the door. He looks up at the ceiling as if just noticing himself. “Oh, yeah, I did work on it over the past summers.”

Ominis frowned, raising his wand in different directions to get a clearer visualization of the new space, “I thought you spent the summer at her place?”

“I spent the first month finishing everything then flew back to hers for the rest. I’ve been working on it since the end of 5th year so there wasn’t much left to be done. It's honestly a good way to practice Charms.”

The Gaunt scion could barely believe the nonchalance in his statement, “And you added a second floor to your house because …?”

“Aha!”

In Sebastian’s hand was a fancy, brown velvet box, the emblem of the nearly fallen Sallow line embossed on the lid. With a quick peek, he confirmed that his mother’s ring was still safely tucked inside.

“Merlin, Sebastian.”

Ominis could almost hear his grin as he patted the dust off his pants before walking back to his frozen friend. “Are you planning to wed her by the time we graduate? Have you even courted her yet?!”

Sebastian just shrugged, looking around the house, a sense of pride filling his chest when he saw how perfect everything had been. Every nook and cranny made with only the thought of you in mind. Even the reading room you had mentioned in passing was thoughtfully plopped close to the backyard where he had hoped to improve your Herbology skills in the future when he manages to drag you into it.

“We don’t have to be married if she doesn’t want to be but we’re definitely getting engaged, I’m not risking it.”

“And you’re sure she’ll say yes?”

Sebastian scoffs and Ominis unfortunately quietly agrees at the stupidity of his question.

Ominis should be scandalized. The quiet, conservative part of him wants to scream about the impropriety of it all. However, with how headstrong you are and how stubborn Sebastian is he knew it would be a waste of his breath to scream about decorum and the formality of proper courting.

“Does she know about your grand plans yet?”

Sebastian slipped the box into the pocket on the inside of his coat. “My darling’s a skittish one but she’s getting there,” he smirks, the memory of the look of dawning on your face in his dorm room making his chest flutter in excitement. “If I make any moves now, I fear she’ll fly away.”

“Well, if a man told me he’s been obsessed with me from the moment we met to the point of building an entire house for a hypothetical future he has built for us without any of my say I’d be bolting for the hills too.”

Sebastian pushed the other boy enough to make him stumble.

“You wouldn’t understand, Omi,” he grins, smug. “We’re kindred spirits,” he releases the word like it had always been written – a fate he, for the first time in his stubborn life, was willingly letting himself get swayed into. “It was always going to end this way.”

Ominis couldn’t help but agree, both because of his confidence for his dear friend and a healthy part of it is of the potential horror he fears Sebastian would unleash on any other man that might risk taking you away from him.

He'd fancy not hiding another murder from the Ministry.

“For all our sake, I hope so too.”

“Sebastian?”

“Yes, pet?”

Sebastian casually flicks into the next page of the book carefully placed on your lap as you sit comfortably astride him. The wrinkle in between his brows a manifestation of his frustration with the Advanced Potions he was studying.

You could feel the stares and hear the whispers. Two of the younger Headboys tried to pretend not to see you improperly sitting in his lap while a group of girls gave you sharp glares as they passed by. You burrow yourself deeper into his lap, not forgetting to stare back with a sweet smile.

“Do you think we should start dating?”

Sebastian freezes, the speed at which his iris moved from the ink on the pages to your eyes was almost too comical but you held back your laugh, not giving him any space to misunderstand your words.

He does nothing but stare for the next 5 seconds before nodding, pushing a hand to rummage in his pocket before placing and opening a pretty brown box with a simple but beautifully carved ring inside it.

“Since we're already graduating, girlfriend seems a bit juvenile,” he clears his throat casually but a shake in his voice betrays his nerves. “Isn't it?”

You forced yourself to close your mouth as you stared at what undoubtedly is the Sallow’s family ring. It was only when he had plucked out the precious jewelry and gently slipped it into your finger that you finally managed to break yourself out of your stupor.

You sniff, now finally looking back at him, “You and your brilliant ideas, Sallow.”

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