#the man is a sniper we all know this

[foxesdontscareme]

the improv duo of all time, if you even care

[camels-pen]

(i haven't read Whole Cake in a while, and i never really watched it, so bear with me)

I'd love to write a fic with Usopp on Whole Cake. it'd be sooo fucking long and i'd need to refresh myself on the entire arc, but god i'd probably be so satisfied when it's done. specifically for having brought a single moment in my head to life, but we'll get to that.

On Zou, he insists to be taken along on the Sanji rescue team and has worked himself up with a whole bunch of very good reasons as to why he should go there instead of helping in Wano, but of course Luffy just immediately accepts with a "yeah sure"

With Whole Cake, I think he'd be flipping between having fun as part of the idiot trio/quartet (Luffy, Chopper, Carrot), and being terrified with Nami. There wouldn't be that many differences in the arc as a whole, though; some things would be easier/better and some things would be worse- I don't necessarily think Usopp's presence would be overall an advantage or disadvantage, just different. Like, major events would stay mostly the same, but little details would change and maybe those little details would build to a far more drastic change-

for example, maybe one of Big Mom's kids considers themself a great sniper and wants a match with Usopp, or is motivated to work harder because Usopp is around and they want to take him out and boast about it. Maybe it means Sunny takes more damage than canon, or maybe Usopp's help means less damage to Sunny. (idk if i'd really do smth like this, but it's just an example)

skjdhf fuck i'm really not equipped to try and figure this out when i don't remember shit from Whole Cake aaaa

I do know that, despite his penchant for talking and rambling, I'd probably have Usopp be dead silent after his initial shock when Sanji fights Luffy. Everything about that is the same, except Usopp is just watching Sanji the whole time- not panicking, not moving, and not speaking. He doesn't say a word the entire time, doesn't even make a sound, and that, along with Luffy's words and Nami's begging, stick with Sanji.

(Usopp is thinking of his own fight with Luffy in Water 7, he's partially wondering if this was what it was like- if it was this painful to watch from the sidelines- and partially knowing he doesn't have to say a word, because he knew, like he knew back then, that it didn't matter what was said. It wasn't quite the same, but he could tell in the way Sanji moved, in the way he spoke and held himself, that he was putting on a front, trying to be brave in all the wrong ways. Usopp didn't say a word to Sanji because there was nothing he could say that Sanji himself didn't already know. Should've known. And his quiet, direct stare, was more than enough.)

the singular moment i really wanna write, is a scene where Sanji is apologizing for dragging them into his mess- either during the big meeting in Bege's castle or some other time- and Usopp's like "I'll do what you can't, you do what I can't, right?" and Sanji pauses, a little confused, until he remembers Enies Lobby and a stupid mask and cape and-

and tears are gathering in his eyes now, fuck, but he laughs a little. It sounds wet and his face is itchy and they're surrounded by tentative allies, but he- he laughs again and he says, "Fuck, you remembered that?"

Usopp shrugs, a little smile on his face. "They were some wise words from a wise man."

Sanji laughs a third time. "You think I'm wise?"

And they banter a little more before Bege tells them to quit it since they're on a time constraint or something. Quietly, Usopp will ask, "It-it helps. On bad days. And I figured, 'what's a worse day than this?' Ah, not that you getting married would ever be bad per se-"

"Usopp," Sanji says, looking more relaxed and settled. He smiles fondly and grabs his friend in a one armed hug, crushing him to his side. "Thanks."

And yeah, don't remember much beyond that, except the whole "hiding and then busting out of the cake" bit, which would mean Usopp in a cute little tuxedo or smth- maybe with a fedora aaaaaa <- loves fedoras- helping out with the fighting and eventually sailing with everyone to Wano.

He would be so distressed about fixing up Sunny now that the whole thing with Whole Cake is over. Maybe there'd be a gag about him promising Franky to take good care of Sunny while they were gone and being confident, after being Franky's tinkering partner and learning from him over time, that he could handle minor repair work much better than he did the first time around with Merry. And so when he finally takes in all the very-not-minor repairs he has to do, he's certain Franky is gonna strangle him for not keeping his promise. Probably also try to write in some nostalgic 'repairman Usopp' vibes from pre-Water 7.

Also something something, Sanji, wanting to do more for the crew bc he still feels guilty about Whole Cake, decides to take it upon himself to help Usopp not fall into a whole anxiety spiral about the ship. In turn, Usopp ends up helping Sanji not feel so guilty- usually by handing his own words back to him on a silver platter. And, yknow, having the two of them bonding and being buddies again like they so rarely get to be in canon nowadays qwq

[imperiuswrecked]

I'm never forgetting the Palestinian babies that were left to starve to death then rot in their beds by the IOF.

I'm never forgetting the Palestinian doctors surrounded by bodies of dead children begging the world to stop the slaughter.

I'm never forgetting the Palestinian children who held a press conference in English to beg the world to stop murdering them because they want to live.

I'm never forgetting the Palestinian Priest who said "We will not accept your apology after the genocide" to the world.

I'm never forgetting the Palestinian Imam who used the speakers of the Mosque, not to call people to prayer but to call out to God while the world around them was burning from American supplied Israeli bombs.

I'm never forgetting the grandfather who held his dead grandchild in his arms. Or the father carrying the remains of his two children in plastic shopping bags. Or the mother holding her dead child in a shroud. Or the father sitting among the rubble after he lost his whole family. Or the girl trapped under a broken building begging for people to save her family first. Or the boy who cried when he saw his brother alive. Or the girl who asked if she was still alive after being pulled from the rubble. Or the boy who carried the remains of his brother in his backpack. Or the old man the IOF used for a photoshoot before they shot him dead after getting pictures. Or the little boy wearing plastic gloves to pick up the remains of his family. Or the graves desecrated. Or the body of that small baby girl left alone in a tent because no one knew who she was or if her family was alive, small and alone and not one person who knew her name to bury her. Or the young boy who was shot in the street while his sister watched from the window. Or the men and boys who were stripped naked in winter. Or those tortured. Or those made to stand in open graves. Or the people who were raped by IOF soldiers. Or Palestinian workers kidnapped by the IOF and then labeled with wristbands, each one reduced to a number, then made to walk back to Gaza to be killed in the world's largest open air concentration camp. Or the people of Gaza starving because Israeli Zionists are blocking aid trucks. Or the Israelis dancing and celebrating the death of Palestinians. Or the lies spread by Zionists and their supporters. Or the people profiting off the oppression and deaths of Palestinians. Or the people of the West Bank being killed or kidnapped by the IOF. Or old woman who was older than the creation of the terror state of "Israel" who was shot by snipers for saying that. Or the Israelis dressed up as Palestinians to enter a hospital and kill three Palestinians in their beds. Or every single Palestinian currently kept in an Israeli prison. Or the journalists, doctors, poets, men, women, children, and the unborn all massacred. Or the fact that WCNSF exists now. Or the woman who refused to wash the blood from her hands. Or the dead, unburied and unmourned.

I'm never forgetting those who chose silence in the face of a genocide.

I may not know all their names but I will not forget the over 30,000 Palestinians dead. Or the over 60, 000 people hurt. Or the unknown number of people missing, still lost under the rubble. Or the 12,000 children slaughtered. An entire generation crippled or murdered.

I will never forget these things when Palestine is free.

[lunatic-pudge]

To be fair, Sniper canonically goes on "vision quests," and from my many experiences with people who use drugs, they do tend to be very into conspiracy theories, aliens, etc.

There's a whole untapped market here that we're missing out on, people! This man will smoke a blunt with you and tell you about the alien encounters he's had when he did acid.

An often overlooked detail about TF2's Sniper:

"Half rugged outdoorsman, half alien observer, this taciturn strip of beef jerky has spent the better part of his life alone in the bush, slow baking under the Australian sun." - Sniper's Official Bio

Almost no-one depicts Sniper's UFO-chasing paranoid conspiracy side, and I think that's tragic. This is a man who likely quietly believes Bigfoot was an escaped government experiment.

[mumblesplash]

alright here's the rundown. more detailed version coming soon probably. the things i do for you guys

(transcript of prologue below the cut)

It's a lavender sky this time, this world. A lavender sky deepening to aubergine over a city of neon and brass. It's beautiful in it's way, just like any other city on any other world.

I-prime hasn't bothered to learn its name.

He stands in the hotel window, watching the burnished streets below gleam with fading light. The rhythmic thrum beneath his feet signals the rousing of the club below. They're playing a song that I has never heard in his life, yet part of him remembers it all the same.

The blank-faced watch on his wrist chimes a single long tone. I-piece taps its face without taking his eyes off the path into the nightclub.

"Hello, T."

"You're not in position," T says through the speaker. Their voice betrays none of the frustration that I knows he must feel.

"I'm where I need to be," I-prime says.

"We talked about this—"

"Yes, you talked, that's what you do. I make decisions."

T-piece's response is cut off by further chimes from the watch. Short, long, short, short—then the voice of L comes through.

"There's no time," she says. "The Boss just Held onto J. It's on, it's now."

"As expected," says I.

With a snap of his fingers the air before him splits. I-prime reaches into the crack between two universes and retrieves his sniper rifle. He looks down its sights, out the window, down the gleaming street.

Someone approaches the door to the club. A tall, svelt man with a face that I-prime is so sick of seeing other people wear.

I wonder what this one's named, I-prime muses as he lines up the shot.

Izaak? Ignacius? Indigo?

As he pulls the trigger on himself from another life, I-prime knows it doesn't matter what this alternate is called.

He lost track of their names a long time ago.

[rememberwren]

Threshold

Simon asks you to take his virginity, just not in so many words. Or any words at all, really. 5.7 k

cw: virgin!Simon, PIV, oral sex f and m receiving, stop and start sex, lack of communication (typical Simon), poor writing, soft!Simon, hints at past trauma, contraception.

-

A Ghost shaped shadow falls over the table. Your eyes lift to find him standing there, the neck of his beer bottle held loosely in his hand. His mask is drawn down below his chin, revealing to you one of your favorite parts of him: his mouth. Simon has a pretty mouth, scarred though it is. Maybe you have such an affinity for it because it is so often hidden away from your sight, or maybe it’s what that mouth is capable of, being just as likely to crack a poor dad joke as it is to cut a grown man to the bone with just a few words. 

He takes the seat across from you, the screeching of the chair on the floor lost to the ambient sounds of the pub. The others are playing pool (Gaz is taking all of them to task), and the place is packed with bodies, a cacophony of voices and laughter. Feeling overstimulated, you had sequestered yourself away to this little corner hoping to catch your breath and tether yourself back to the earth instead of spending the rest of the night in a dissociated haze. 

The sight of Ghost is like a light slap to the cheek, rousing you from your stupor. Lights burn brighter. Sounds are sharper. If you wrack your brain you can count on one hand the number of times you’ve ever been singled out by Ghost, so you know whatever is about to happen is out of the ordinary. Leaning in, you lace your fingers together on the table top and nearly have to shout to be heard as you say: “What can I do for you, Ghost?” 

“We should hook up,” he says. Then he takes a long drink from his bottle, eyes sharp and dark where they are narrowed in on you over the top. A sniper’s eyes. 

“What?” you shout back, positive that you have misheard him. 

He shrugs. He won’t repeat himself. 

“Me—and you?”

He raises his brows, looking around the empty table as if to ask, Who else?

“Why?”

He takes another drink, and you see him mulling over his potential answers this time, sucking on his teeth as he thinks. What you wouldn’t give to be a fly on the wall in his head. He’s got you on tenterhooks, leaning forward onto your elbows, fingers absently (anxiously) playing with a condensation ring left by someone else’s drink earlier in the night. 

Finally, he says, “Why not?”

-

His hand rests low on your back as the two of you say goodbye to the others. You see the downright thunderstruck looks Gaz and Soap throw at each other at your announcement that Ghost is driving you home, but the deeper meaning hardly registers. Who cares if everyone knows that you’re taking Ghost home to fuck him? You’re both adults; you need no one’s permission. Still, as soon as you are outside, you press your palms to your heated cheeks, wondering how you will be able to face any of them in the future. 

“You driving?” you ask him. 

He lifts his hand, showing you the keys in his palm. He doesn’t open the car door for you—not that you had really expected him to. It isn’t as if this is a date. It’s just two adults hooking up.

Inside, he shifts the vents towards you and turns on the heat, soothing the goosebumps that had begun to bloom on your arms. He waits until you’ve buckled your seatbelt before backing out and onto the street. It’s only then that you remember what Soap says about Ghost’s driving. You wish you had a second seatbelt. 

“So what brought all this on?” you ask, feeling remarkably shy in the passenger seat. You’re beginning to sober up from your drinks at the pub, not that you had ever been that drunk to begin with. Maybe this was a mistake. You’re already suffering from nerves, and you haven’t even gotten back to your apartment yet. How were you supposed to fuck Ghost without looking like a fawn, your knees knocking together coltishly, nauseous from anxiety? 

“I’ve been thinking about it for a while,” he admits. 

Alright. Downright digestible news. Before tonight, you wouldn’t have even considered you and Ghost friends, necessarily. More like friend-adjacent, thanks to your mutual friendship with Johnny. It’s good to know that apparently you had caught his eye somehow, even if it was by being the only woman among a male-dominated group of friends. 

You can’t leave it alone. “But why?” 

“That’s what people do, isn’t it?” he asks, like he’s not a person, like he’s only ever heard about what it’s like to be one from a friend of a friend. “They think about fucking each other. Don’t you think about fucking me?” 

Your mouth goes dry. You do. You think about fucking Ghost a lot than one might expect for how few minimal interactions you’ve had. Being perfectly honest, tonight is sort of becoming a dream come true. You’d had an attraction for Ghost ever since you’d met him, even before he’d taken the mask off and you’d seen that he has such a pretty face underneath. 

You’d be willing to examine under a microscope your affection for aloof, seemingly unaffected men on a different day.

Ghost looks at you, trying to interpret your silence, the car swerving slowly into the other lane. You make a sound remarkably close to a screech and reach out to adjust the wheel, but he adjusts it before you do, batting your hand away softly. 

“We don’t have to do this,” he says, eyes firmly on the road now. “I’ll just drop you off.” 

“No, I want to,” you say. “It’s just—it’s been a while for me. I want to, though.” 

Ghost casts you a doubtful glance. He pulls into your apartment complex’s parking lot and the two of you head up together. True to form, you feel his eyes taking in all the new sights: the man behind the desk who doesn’t even look up as you both enter, the elevator that was last inspected two years ago, the proximity to the neighboring apartments.

After you unlock the door but before he crosses the threshold, he reaches up and runs his hand along the top of the doorframe—and easily pulls away your spare key. For a moment he holds it between you both, staring. He seems nearly as surprised as you are by his own actions. Reaching out, he sets it down on the end table just beyond the entry and says: “You couldn’t find a better hiding place for that?” 

“Goddamnit, Ghost,” you whine, slipping off your shoes. “You’re not here to assess my, my security measures. You’re here to fuck me. Will you get in?”

He comes in and makes a circle of the living space, his steps silent in a way you’ve never been able to replicate, not even here in your own living space. You cross your arms, wondering what he’s thinking. Does he think you a slob? A terrible interior designer? You told yourself that you didn’t care. The space was yours, and yours alone, and you liked it well enough. He could survive being in it for one night.

“What’s the verdict?” you ask after the silence stretches too thin. 

“It’s nice,” he says. Then he amends, or perhaps adds: “It’s you.” 

“I’m choosing to take that as a compliment. Do you…want a drink?”’ 

“No,” he says, taking off his jacket and resting it on the arm of the couch. “Want you to c’mere.” 

Your feet obey before your mind even thinks to question it, padding across the living room in your socks until you stand in front of where he has seated himself on your frayed, careworn loveseat. He looks up at you, eyes dark and all-seeing. His hands find your hips, testing the width of them, and he makes you feel like something small, something precious, something to be cradled in the palm of his hand like a gem or jewel.

“Sit down,” he says. So you sit beside him, close enough to breathe in his clean scent. 

“I’m going to kiss you,” he says, taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “As soon as you say you’ll let me.” 

“I’ll let you.” 

His lips are soft as they look, mouth warm and insistent as he coaxes you to part your lips and taste him—as if you need the incentive. He tastes like Price’s whiskey that he had sipped at the bar, like he would settle warm in your belly and everywhere else. His hand relaxes his hold on your chin, choosing instead to cup your jaw, suffusing warmth throughout your cheek. 

It turns into the longest makeout session you’ve had since you were a teenager. You kiss until your jaw aches, until your lips are raw, until you’re throbbing between your legs. Each time you try to move things along, Ghost gently deflects your advances, seeming content to kiss you for ages. If this is how he fucks, it will be an all night affair. 

“Ghost please,” you mutter against his mouth when you feel liable to burst, when he won’t even let you slip a hand beneath his t-shirt. 

“Here,” he mutters, hauling you onto his lap. That’s headed in the right direction. Your thighs spread obscenely wide to accommodate him, lowering yourself until you feel that hard line beneath his jeans. Instinct has you lining yourself up until you can rub off against him, a choked sound rising up in the back of your throat at the blissful friction. 

He sighs into your mouth, a trembling little exhale of air, his hands finding your hips and pinning you in place. Pulling back, he mutters: “None of that.” 

“Why not?” you pant. “Feels good.” 

“I’m trying not to embarrass myself. Work with me.”

The two of you move to the bedroom. You stand on legs that are already shaking, stripping clothes off along as you go: socks here, leggings there. The typical anxious thoughts have just started spiraling in your head—what underwear are you wearing? Have you shaved recently enough? Is the light flattering? When did you last change the sheets?—when Ghost catches you, looping his forearm around your waist and pulling you back against his firm chest. 

“I wanted to undress you,” he says against the nape of your neck. 

“I can put the clothes back on if you like.” 

“Think I’ll just do the rest myself, if it’s all the same to you.” 

His hands are remarkably gentle for his line of work as he helps you out of your shirt, your arms lifting obligingly to help him. The light from the lamp in the corner is actually quite flattering, casting shadows across you both in a way that is artful. His fingertips, calloused but careful, trace up the lengths of your arms and around to your back. 

He fumbles a little with the clasp of your bra. 

“I hate those things,” you breathe once he finally gets it figured out, coaxing the straps off your shoulders. 

“Me too,” he says in that dry, bland way that you’ve come to associate with his humor.

All that’s left are your panties. He presses you back onto the bedspread and hooks his fingers into the waistband of your underwear, peeling them off your thighs. Your legs try to close on instinct, but he is quick to wedge himself between them, thumbs finding the creases where your thighs meet your pelvis and stroking the sensitive skin until you don’t know whether to laugh from being tickled or cry from being teased. 

“Fuckin’ pretty, aren’t you?” he murmurs, eyes on your pussy. Maybe he’s talking to it and not to you. “Want to get my mouth on you. Can I?” 

God, how long has it been since you’ve gotten head? You nod, near frantic. Even if he’s no good, some effort will be better than nothing. Besides, a part of you has high hopes for Ghost as a lover; so far he has been thorough and careful, both points in his favor. He leans up and kisses you again, your nipples brushing against his t-shirt, reminding you that you are naked while he is still entirely dressed. He seems content, and as desperate as you are to see him naked, you’re even more desperate not to break this blissful little soap bubble you both have somehow managed to find yourselves in. 

Nudging your head up and to the side with the tip of his nose, he trails his mouth down your neck, tasting your skin and searching for your most sensitive spots. When he finds them, he drags his teeth against them softly until your heels are digging into the bed beneath you, hips up and searching for any kind of friction, even if you have to rub yourself against his jeans to find it. 

Ghost continues down over the plains of your chest, teasing first one nipple and then the other with his mouth and his hands, testing the heft of your breasts in his huge palms. He explores your body with an admirable single-mindedness, not the perfunctory, half-hearted way some of your past lovers had. His eyes are never far from your own, categorizing your reactions; for what purpose, you aren’t sure. 

After kissing a line right over your navel, he grips your thighs in his hands and spreads you wide. That close to your cunt, he must be able to smell how desperate you are, must be able to see the way it drips from you. He ghosts a thumb along your slit, turns it towards himself until your slick catches on the light. That thumb disappears into his mouth, and it takes all your breath and all your thoughts with it. His hum of approval vibrates against your calves which are pressed to either side of his chest. 

“Okay?” he asks. 

You nod, unable to trust your voice. 

He leans down and kisses your folds, chaste and sweet as he might have kissed your mouth. He uses the fingers of one hand to spread you open, and there is a rush of warmth as he lets the saliva pool on his tongue and then flood against your sex, leaning down to chase it with his mouth. 

He is all merciful tongue and lips, no hint of teeth as he licks and sucks at that hidden knot of flesh at the top of your sex. He barely pays your entrance any attention—which is fine by you, honestly, his tongue is direly needed elsewhere—but shifts an arm free to sling it over your pelvis, palm resting over your mons, thumb pulling back that hood that seeks to keep your most sensitive parts hidden from him. 

Your hands grip fistfuls of your bedspread, unsure if he’s willing to let you touch his hair. The noises—gasps and whines and choked groans—coming out of your mouth would have your soul leaving your body if only you could hear them over the sound of blood rushing through your ears. 

He’s strong, fighting against your natural urges to clamp your thighs shut around his head. Instead he presses you open wider, leaving no where for you to run to or hide as the pleasure in your pelvis blossoms, swells into some sweet fruit that bursts all over his tongue, your back arching into a neat bow. 

You find out then that Ghost eats pussy the same way he kisses. He seems content to lap you clean and continue sucking at your swollen flesh, and even though you don’t think you could cum again, it still feels good. You melt into the mattress, boneless. Against your better judgement, your hand finds his hair, tucking back the longest strands that just begin to tickle the tops of his ears.  

His mouth stutters against you at the touch, losing its easy rhythm. He pulls back until he is out of your reach. 

“Sorry,” you whisper, throat raw. Your hand falls to rest on your soft belly, feeling exhausted.

“You can touch. Just don’t pull. I don’t—“ he stops, like he is searching for the right words. “—I don’t want it to hurt.” 

“Not at all?” 

“No.” 

“Me neither. Would you kiss me again?” 

His only answer is to shift upwards so that he can meet your mouth. You taste yourself on his tongue. His cock, still confined in his jeans, brushes against your thighs. One of your hands wanders down his firm chest, down his belly, til you can map the shape of his erection with your fingers. His biceps tense around you where he braces himself on the bed to keep from putting his weight on you, head dropping til his forehead rests against the juncture between your neck and shoulder. 

“You should get undressed,” you remind him. 

He lets out a breath through his nose that sounds suspiciously like a sigh, leaning back onto his haunches to tug his shirt off over his head. You stare, awed. He’s so thick, all over: muscles hidden beneath a nice layer of soft padding, chest hair broken up by the odd scar here or there. You reach out toward his belt but he stops you. 

“I can do it,” he says. He stands and strips himself naked in one fell swoop, like ripping off a bandaid. He’s thick here too, just as you had suspected: thighs and cock included. Already you can feel the phantom stretch of him between your legs and in your jaw. It burns away the last bits of sleepiness your orgasm had given you. 

Throughout your perusal, he stands still, at attention, mouth turned downward in its most comfortable frown, meeting your eyes with an almost obstinate persistence. You kneel up and crawl to the edge of the bed, letting your legs dangle off of it. 

“Can I touch you?” 

“Alright,” he says. 

You start at his shoulders, tracing over the broad width of them. Everything about him displays his strength. Even his scars, which some might consider signs of failure, only showed his persistence for survival. You ran your hands across his pecs, pausing to toy with one pale, pink nipple, so soft beneath your fingers. With each breath he takes, his abs are thrown into sharp relief. 

“God, Ghost,” you mutter, tracing a line down to his cock. 

“I know,” he says dully, though what he knows, you’re unsure of. “Condom’s in my pants.”

“We don’t need one.”

“I don’t want any surprises.”

“You won’t get any. Here.” You take his hand and guide it to your upper arm where your implant sits just beneath the surface of your skin. He flinches, unsure what he is touching. “It’s my contraception.”

“That’s horrifying,” he mutters. 

“Do what I do—don’t think of it.” 

“Right.”

You shift backwards up into the bed, thighs falling open invitingly. Instead of filling the space between them, he lays next to you, rolling you til you both face each other. 

He runs his calloused palm up the length of your leg and grips your thigh, tugging it up and over his hip until you are spread open for him. There’s a question in his eyes, a slowness to his movement that gives you ample time to deny him this if you don’t want it—but you do. God you do. You ache for it—for him. 

He reaches down and slips two fingers into you, easy as anything in your wet, relaxed state. The fullness is divine, even more so when he decides you’re ready for that third finger, the one that stretches your entrance and makes you hiss a breath through your teeth. 

Ghost doesn’t even fuck you with them, just leaves you stuffed full of his fingers while he kisses you more. He waits until you’re the one shifting and thrusting against his touch before pulling out and wiping your wetness across your tender folds. 

He grips his cock, guides it to your entrance. Hesitates. 

“Please,” you mutter, face flushed with heat, hoping he doesn’t want you to beg. You’ll debase yourself, but it will be painful. 

Whether or not it was your word he was waiting for, he slips inside you, a near-unbearable fullness and pressure that has you burying your face in his chest. His own breaths are stuttered, shallow as he sinks as deep into you as your body will allow and no deeper. Once he’s inside you, he seems to relax, like some great race has been run, some threshold has been crossed and now he can rest. 

“Let me know when I can move,” he says, running his hand up and down the length of your back, down over the curve of your ass. 

“Not yet,” you beg. “Feels like you’re in my fucking throat. Jesus, Ghost.” 

His cock twitches. You both suck in a breath. 

“Don’t say that shit,” he mutters, breathless, fingers digging grooves into the soft flesh of your hips. “Lean back. I want to look at you.”

You uncurl yourself away from his chest, tilting your chin up towards him. The last twinges of pain in your cunt have receded until all that lasts is that ceaseless fullness. He moves at last, laying down his arm so you can rest your head on his bicep. Only then are you aware of how painfully intimate this position is. There is nowhere to turn away to, nowhere to hide. You’ve had sex with partners less intimate than this. 

“You can move,” you assure him, hoping for a distraction. 

He takes a breath so deep his chest brushes your own. The pace he sets is downright agonizingly slow, less thrusting and more of a solid grind against you that has you a shivering mess in his arms. There’s little chance you could cum at this pace, but it feels good, and all of it is strangely secondary to him. 

There’s a look in his eyes. You don’t understand it. Is it tenderness? Genuine affection? Gratitude? You’ve never had sex with this much eye contact before, never felt like breaking that gaze could take you out of the hazy headspace you’re in. Ghost finds your hand and grips it—doesn’t lace your fingers together but instead holds them like a tiny bundle of sticks in his giant hand.

He rests his forehead against your own. His eyes fall shut for just a moment, and it gives you the freedom to examine his features freely: the low brow, the curve of his nose, the pink scars tinged pale purple in the low light. You feel like you’re seeing him for the first time. You feel like you’re the first person to ever see him. 

That strange thought starts a domino effect in your mind, sets off a chain reaction, slides a dozen puzzle pieces into a Ghost shaped puzzle and all at once it hits you. 

“Ghost—stop.” 

He stills, eyes opening. Reverses, withdrawing from inside you. “What hurts?”

“Nothing,” you assure him. “But—I’m sorry. You’ve done this before, right?” 

He doesn’t respond. He’s meeting your eyes, but he has that obstinate, pained look again, like he’d rather be looking straight at the sun. 

Your voice pitches upward with a hint of panic. “Ghost??”

“Fucking hell,” he groans, rolling onto his back, cock slipping free and leaving you feeling bereft. The mattress dips, making you sway toward him. You shift away.  “What gave me away?”

“Oh my god. You’re kidding, right? Please tell me you’re joking.” 

“Bloody wish,” he mutters, arm thrown over his eyes. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“The fuck would I tell you for?” He sounds genuinely baffled. 

“So I could—I don’t know! So I could have known!” 

“Didn’t want you to fucking know,” he says, letting his arm down so that he can glare at you fiercely. At the sight of you huddled at the other side of the bed, naked, arms wrapped around yourself, the fury seems to melt out of him. His shoulders sag. He palms at his eyes briefly, like a headache is brewing.

“Fucked it,” he mutters to himself, going for his jeans and sitting on the edge of the bed to put them on. “Fucked it all.” 

“You didn’t,” you offer hastily, though it does feel a little fucked. Suddenly you realize that your chance to fuck Ghost is slipping through your fingers like so much sand. What had started as a dream come true was turning into a nightmare, and you couldn’t bear the thought of letting him leave. Not like this. 

At your words, he tosses you a look, and how a human can fit so much skepticism in a single expression is beyond your belief.

“Really. I just wish I’d known so I could have been better for you.” You don’t realize the truth of the statement until you say it. The last thing you wanted was for him to look back on this moment with disappointment. 

He shakes his head and mutters: “You’re mad.” 

“We could still—you know.” 

He stops, jeans halfway pulled up his thick thighs. “What, fuck?”

You find a loose thread on your bedspread and twist it around your finger, shrugging. Aiming for cool and missing by a mile. 

“You want to.” 

“Well, yeah.” You abandon the thread, feeling too exposed. Tucking your legs up toward your chest, you wrap your arms around yourself. “Like you said in the car. I’ve been thinking about it.”

“About fucking me.”

“Are these questions?” you ask, face warm. “Yes, I think about it. Thought about it. I have thoughts.” 

His lips twitch, a ghost of a smile, gone before you can imagine what a full-fledged grin would even begin to look like. “You’re serious.”

“Really serious,” you offer, sensing that he might be coming back around to the idea himself. Though you’re no vixen, you let your body unfold just to watch the way his eyes drop to look you over. You never knew eyes could be hungry. “Pants off? Please?”

He’s still and quiet for several long moments, but at length he shoves them back down his thighs, naked once more. He’s only half hard, but no less intimidating in this state. You eagerly shift to the edge of the bed and off, back down onto your knees in front of him, palms against his thighs. 

“Is this okay?” you ask, looking up at him from beneath your lashes, aware that this is one of your most flattering angles. 

“Go on,” he says. He sounds doubtful. You are too, unsure if you can find the same rhythm you both had going before. Unsure if you want to, now that you know him better. 

You take one of his hands and coax it into cupping your cheek, then slide it back and up into your hair. “Don’t pull. No pain, right?” 

Something hard in his expression softens marginally. His fingertips scratch gently at your scalp, a silent praise as he agrees: “No pain.”

Leaning forward, you nuzzle at his cock. It is velvety soft against your cheek. His scent here is more concentrated, masculine and warm. Above you, he sucks in a breath through his teeth. 

How much you enjoy giving head usually directly depends on your partner, and Ghost is brilliant to suck off. Some might find him stoic or unaffected, but his expressions are just understated. When you place an open mouthed kiss against his shaft, his fingers twitch in your hair. When you take the tip past your lips to rest heavily against your tongue, he lets out a shaky exhale. By the time he’s nudging the back of your throat while you work the excess inches of his cock in your fist, he is grunting in between in sharp breaths. You find yourself becoming hyper attuned to his reactions until each minuscule motion feels exaggerated to your brain. A twitch becomes a caress. A sigh a moan.  

“I’ll cum in your mouth if you don’t stop,” he grits out. 

You pull off, jaw aching, lips slick. “I’d rather you came inside me.” 

He pulls you to your feet and kisses you. All the kisses tonight, and this one has been the most honest, the most needful, the most raw. Had he never even kissed anyone before tonight? you wonder. It’s hard to believe that the answer might be yes. The way he kisses melts your brain, fizzles your thoughts. 

“Ghost,” you breathe when he gives you a moment to come up for air, his mouth dipping low to your collarbone where he sucks softly. 

“You know my name,” he says, mouth against your skin. “Use it.”

Simon. You have to say it in your mind first to get used to it. Simon. Simon. Then he finds one of those sensitive spots in the crook of your neck and you are whispering it, voice trembling more than you’d like: “Simon.” 

“I like the way you say it,” he admits. “You’ve got a pretty mouth.”

“So do you.” 

He snorts softly, shaking his head, like you have said something very silly. 

“Up.” He grips your waist and helps you up onto the bed. You scoot back, making room for him between your thighs, and he fills the space so fucking snugly. His cock nudges at your sex and reminds you of how you ache all anew. 

This time when he slips inside you, it punches a sound out of you that is remarkably close to a whine, your toes curling. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuck,” you gasp, hands scrabbling for purchase against his broad shoulders, careful not to scratch him. 

His head drops, forehead resting against your own, eyes shut. “Fuck’s right. Not a chance I’ll last after being in your mouth.”

“Wait for me,” you choke out, working one hand between you both until your fingers can find your clit. The angle isn’t the best, not with him so close, but it’s made up for by how blissfully full you are, by how Simon’s arms are trembling where he holds himself up above you. Briefly you let your fingers take a side trip, teasing his cock where he stretches you open, and Simon groans. Fuck, it goes right to your head. It makes you feel like you could walk on water. 

You find his mouth and kiss him, kiss him til your head is light with lack of air, kiss him til your thighs are shaking with how close you are from your own expert touch. 

“Fuck me, now, fuck me please,” you beg into his mouth.

He draws back until just the thick head sits inside you, giving your fingers room to work for a moment before he thrusts back in slow and smooth, pinning your fingers against your clit and that simple pressure—it’s enough. Your body bows against him, choked sounds lost against his mouth as he swallows them whole, fucking you so softly through the peak of your pleasure. 

Simon stiffens not a handful of moments later, cock twitching inside you. The burst of warmth is pleasant, making you shiver. He drops down til his chest presses against your own, careful not to crush you with his weight. 

“Don’t pull out yet.” 

His softening cock twitches inside you. All he says is: “Alright.” 

You hum, warm and sated. Sleepy. “You sleeping over?”

“Didn’t plan on it,” he murmurs, lips against your shoulder. 

“But the walk of shame is a valuable part of the experience.”

“‘M not ashamed of fucking you,” he says. 

You’re strangely touched. “Me neither.”

“Did you fake it?” he wonders.

“I’m no good at faking,” you admit. He leans up so his eyes can scan your face, looking for any hint of deception. Whatever he finds must satisfy his curiosity because he lowers his head back to rest against your shoulder. 

He rolls you both onto your sides, and his soft cock slips free with a rush of seed. You make an unhappy sound in the back of your throat. Afterward is always your least favorite part, when you feel so empty.

Simon hushes you as he slips from the bed. “Bathroom,” he tells you. 

“Through there.”

“Not for me, for you.”

“Why?” you whine, tired and petulant. 

“Because pissing afterward is a valuable part of the experience for you. Can you walk, or did I break you?” 

When you don’t answer, he grips one of your ankles and pulls you toward the end of the bed. You shriek, rolling onto your belly, but it’s no use. Looping his arm around your waist, he tosses you over his shoulder and carries you to the bathroom like you weigh nothing more than a sack of potatoes, which is patently untrue. 

“Are you going to watch me go, too?” you ask. 

“Kinky,” he says, already disappearing into the other room. 

By the time you clean yourself up and take care of any “valuable post-sex experiences”, Simon has dressed himself. His clothes are gone from the floor in your bedroom. You can’t help but feel disappointed; a part of you really had been hoping he’d stay.  Slipping on your panties and a clean shirt, you chase after him hoping he hasn’t left only to find him toying with your spare key at your door. 

The way he reaches for your hand and draws you to him soothes some of the ache of seeing out. He thumbs your pulse and says: “I have to be ready to leave for work at a moment’s notice or I’d stay.” 

“It’s fine.” 

“You’re lying,” he says, pressing his thumb more firmly against your wrist. “Don’t lie to me, or I’ll know. Do you want tonight to happen again?” 

“Are you seriously copping a feel of my pulse to see if I’m being truthful?”

“Evading the question,” he says, clicking his tongue in disapproval. “Thanks anyway, for tonight. I’ll see myself out.”

“Yes! Alright, yes. Of course I do.” 

His mouth quirks upwards, his grin a little crooked thanks to the scar, but no less precious. His thumb strokes softly. “I don’t need your pulse to tell when you’re lying. I just like to feel it racing when you look at me.”

You groan, burying your face in his chest. How embarrassing is that? 

“Next time, I’ll stay,” he promises. “Alright? Repeat it back to me.” 

“Next time you’ll stay.” 

“Next time,” he murmurs softly, turning away. He takes the stairs.  

[racew1nn3rs]

─ 𝘚𝘌𝘊𝘙𝘌𝘛𝘚, 𝘚𝘌𝘊𝘙𝘌𝘛𝘚 🫀

max verstappen x singer!fem reader // smau

⤷ summary: when max verstappen starts commenting on the posts of the beloved singer y/n l/n, fans are confused and less than enthusiastic at the new friendship. what they could never expect is just how long they've been 'friends'...

based on this request <3

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liked by sabrinacarpenter, maxverstappen1, and 46,908 others

tagged sabrinacarpenter

ynusername my new album is now officially out on all platforms! thank you so so much for all of the love and support, and special thanks to sab for her feature on the song <33 love u bb girl 🫦🫦 now that the album's out, tour next!!! see you all soon!

23,560 comments

user1 THE ALBUM OUT. THIS IS NOT A DRILL PEOPLE THIS IS NOT A DRILL.

user2 i cannot be normal about this i fear

user3 ik her back hurts from CARRYING the music industry on her back 😩

user4 hey so WHO TF IS SO AMERICAN ABOUT?? A LOVE SONG

user5 y/n writing a love song in god's year of 2024... wow

user6 y/n in the top 10 charts, fork found in kitchen

user7 sabrina and y/n are never beating the gf allegations

ynusername damn right we're not 😏

user7 HOLY SHIR HOKY SHIT HOKST SHUT

user8 y/n's in love and it's not with me, hanging myself as we speak

user9 the comment is gonna get reported but so real op

user8 can't a woman hang herself in peace 😣

user10 album's such a banger i had this shit bumpin at my grandmas funeral 🙏🏼 rest in piece nancy 🕊️💪🏻

user11 OH MY GOD???

user12 rest in piece nancy you would've loved make you mine 😔

ynusername oh my god please tell me your joking

user10 sorry queen the grind never stops

ynusername NO SHOT

maxverstappen1 great album! 👍🏼

user13 why does he text like my father 🧍🏻‍♀️

user14 brother eughh

user15 what da hell is a polar bear doin in arlington texas

ynusername thank you max!!!

user16 y/n l/n to redbull in 2025

user17 hellurrrrr who is this man in ur likes y/n

user18 f1 driver!!

user17 Y/N NO ATHELETES PLEAEJEWK 🫵

user18 tour content soon??? i'm sat

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user19 bro looks like he snuck onto earth, get his ass outta here

user20 grammy-award winner, vogue cover model, new york university graduate and Some Fucking Guy

user21 not y'all coming to her defense like the mighty morphin power rangers ���💀 he's literally a world class athete and she writes pop music

user20 17.172.224.47

user21 IS THAT MY IP ADDRESS??

user20 melinda charleton

user22 IS THAT HIS MOTHER'S NAME!!?1?1!

user20 you want me to do you too???

user22 no we good 😃

user23 ruth bader ginsberg did not die for this

user24 now wtf does this have to do with babe ruth 🤨

user25 WHOOOOO 😧

user24 ... that wasn't right was it

user26 now let's be fr he does NAWT have a chance

user27 have u seen the marble-carved  goddesses these men pull, i fear he does 😔

user28 please no i feel ill

user29 TWO???? OH HELL NAW

user30 two might be pushing it, only one was confirmed

user31 jesus christ

user32 first taylor, now this

user33 yall, all he commented was great album 💀💀 yall are LEAPING to conclusions

user34 what can i say it's an art

user35 i do not see 👁️👄👁️

user36 no like 💀💀 im in your walls

user37 haha max verstappen!! right!!! (theres a sniper at ur location)

user38 omg ur so right 🤩 it is about him (i have a bomb strapped to my chest)

user39 i dont mean to sound stupid, idk who that man is, if i saw him on the streets i wouldnt know a thing 🥱

user40 this is so random too like what 😭

user41 the power of kindness won't work here, i have to throw him off a building

user42 i used to be a max verslsjjwwo lover 🤩 now im just a max verslsjjwwo hater 😔

user43 NURSE 🫵 SHE'S OUT AGAIN

user44 why would u put that into the universe 😧

user45 alright, lets get you to bed grandma

user46 mari stop being delusion and go touch grass 🧍🏻‍♀️

user47 ENOUGHHHH

user48 ain't no way in hell 😭

user49 ik ur feet hurt from all this jumping to conclusions babe

user50 lets leave the parkour to the athletes 😃

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liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris, and 54,789 others

ynusername italy thanks for letting me be inside you (; it was such a lovely show, expect me back asap!!!!

15,267 comments

user51 IT WAS SO GOOD I THNK I BLACKED OUT THE WHOLE TIME THO

user52 oh!

user51 oh so now this isn't a safe space

user53 LANDO AND MAX IN TGE LIKES??? NO NO NO NO

user54 ABORT ABORT ABORT

user55 y'all are doing too much 🙄 she's one of the top artists in the world, i think it's safe to say they might like her music

user56 the second picture 🧎🏻‍♀️do you need a stool cause i can kneel and be really quiet

user57 y/n fans be normal challenge (impossible!!!) (never done before)

user56 WOMP WOMP

maxverstappen1 wonderful show! 🙏🏼 you are so talented

ynusername ty max (: im glad you could come see me

user57 ain't NO WAYYYYYY

user59 THIS IS SIXKENJNG IM GONNA PUKE

sabrinacarpenter my gf looking sexy 🫦🫦🫦

ynusername only for u bbg 🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️

user60 BOOOO 🗣️ GET A ROOM

user61 do y'all need a third!!!!

user62 mamma mia pizza pasta mozzerella moment

user63 i just put u on a watchlist

user62 🧍🏻‍♀️

landonorris RAHHHHHH 🦅🫵🗣️‼️

ynusername RAHHH RAHHH RAHHH RISE POWER POWER 💪🏻‼️

user63 what the fuck

user64 OH GOD WHAT IF SHES DATING HIM????

ynusername brother eughhhh

landonorris WHAT THE FUCK????

user65 SINCE WHEN IS SHE FRIENDS WITH F1 DRIVERS HOW MANY CHAPTWRS DID I MISS

user66 apparently we all went into a universal coma while she was out galavanting cause idk how else this could've happened

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maxverstappen1 posted to his story!

(caption: beautiful show)

22,456 replies

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user67 someone save my girl bro, she don't know any better 😭

user68 it's like a little kid trying to touch the hot stove, LIKE STOP THAT!! DON'T DO THAT

user69 am i the only one who thinks they'd be cute together....

user70 YES!?!?

user71 there is literally no fucking way he bagged her

user72 losing y/n to european f1 driver would be the biggest american tragedy since 2001

user73 i had to read this shit twice, op what r u waffling abt 🫵😧

user74 can't even be nonchalant about this one bro, i'm chalanting hard asf

user75 we do not care

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liked by redbullracing, f1, and 78,567 others

tagged maxverstappen1

ynusername first time in monaco, safe to say i enjoyed myself! so happy to see you shine this time my love<3

25,788 comments

user76 oh. my. fucking. god

user77 THEYRE FUCKING DATING OH MYFODNSJ

user78 THAT SHOULD BE MEEEE HOLDING YOUR HAND THAT SHOULD BE MEEE MAKING YOU LAUGHHH 🎤

user79 i'm in mourning

sabrinacarpenter CHEATER 🫵

ynusername BABY IT'S NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE, IT WAS JUST ONE TIME 😣😣😣 IT WAS A MISTAKE

maxverstappen1 we've been dating for 2 years??

sabrinacarpenter SHUT UP FAST & FURIOUS NO ONE ASKED YOU

user80 i'm sorry 😃 two Y EARS

user81 i feel like i just got dumped. y/n don't do this, the kids need you 😔

maxverstappen1 i got p1 for you, i love you 🫶🏼

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hope you all enjoyed! please let me know your thoughts and feel free to leave a request for me to write something for your fav <3

[as-is-above-so-below]

The Captain - Simon Riley x Sniper!Reader, Wife!Reader

summary: Ghost’s sniper wife (reader) joins Task Force 141 on an op, against his wishes call sign: Freyja warning: mentions of violence and death (ofc), blood Next >>

John Price stood at a round table, leading the mission brief for the team’s upcoming operation. Ghost, Soap, and Gaz sat around the table in various positions. Soap with his boots kicked up onto the table, chair tilted back; Gaz leaned forward onto the table, his forearms on the surface; Ghost leaned back against his chair, arms crossed over his chest. Soap and Gaz wore their regulation tan t-shirts and camo pants, while Ghost was clad in a black long-sleeve and his standard skull balaclava.

“So if we’re stormin’ the building, we’re all accounted for,” Soap pointed out, clicking the pen between his fingers. “We need a sniper.”

“Called in a favor with a good friend, who should have been here–”

“Ten minutes ago,” a strong but mellow voice cut in as a figure turned through the doorway. “I know, sorry John. Got a bit caught up with my room assignment. Tried to put me on the other side of base.”

A woman came into view, offering her hand out to John. They firmly grasped each other’s forearms in a quick shake. Soap and Gaz both had only slightly surprised expressions. Not at the fact that their sniper was female; they’d worked with plenty of fierce women during their time in Task Force 141.

The fact that she did not look the part.

She wore a massively oversized black sweatshirt that brushed her thighs and dark blue skinny jeans, her hair loose down her back. Must’ve just got off a plane, Soap thought to himself, looking her up and down. Her stance showed her confidence, feet shoulder-width apart as she faced the team with a bright smile (one not often found in their field of work) and glowing skin. She wasn’t necessarily small, more average height, but her attire dwarfed her frame. 

“Thank you for joining us, Captain,” Price nodded at her. “This is Freyja. American Special Forces, sniper, undercover ops. She’s been briefed and will be joining us temporarily for the op. She comes highly recommended and outranks all of you, so I’d suggest you be on your best behavior.”

The woman jabbed Price with her elbow, rolling her eyes, much to Soap’s surprise. He barely suppressed the laugh that bubbled in his chest, unable to help the small choking laugh that escaped. Ghost glared at him and he quickly piped down.

“Thanks, John, but I think I’ll be fine. Glad to be of use.”

“Happy to have you. Let me know if you need anything while you’re here. I’ll leave you to it, get acquainted. We leave at 0400 hours. We’ll be infiltrating in daylight; prepare accordingly.”

“Aye, Captain,” Soap nodded once and saluted him, setting his chair back down as he rose. He watched John pat her shoulder on his way out, sharing what seemed like a knowing look, before finally departing to his quarters. Interesting.

Soap was the first to cross the room, taking her hand in a firm grip. “Pleasure to meet you, Captain. Sergeant John Mactavish,” he introduced, shaking her hand. He noted her equally firm grip and the cool metal of a wedding band pressing into his palm. Her skin was calloused yet soft, not as rough as his own. 

“Soap, right? Heard a lot about you.”

“Aye. Good things I hope?"

“Mostly.”

A boisterous laugh left him, so loud you’d think the room shook. Soap heard Gaz gag on his water before breaking into a choked wheeze. The other man approached, shaking her hand as well. “Kyle Garrick, call me Gaz.”

Her hands found their way into the pockets of her sweatshirt.

“So, Freyja… like the–?”

A gentle, airy giggle floated into his ears. What a lovely sound. “Yes, like the goddess. I know, my husband’s idea.”

Soap groaned, his head lolling back in faux agony as he pressed a hand to his chest. “You’re breakin’ my heart, lass. Was hopin’ ya didn’t have one’a those. He in the service?”

“He is, but you wouldn’t know him. Keeps a pretty low profile,” she shrugged, keeping her eyes on the two men in front of her.

”D’ya think I could take him?”

”Probably not.”

Neither Soap nor Gaz noticed the way Ghost’s mask twitched slightly, evidence of the smirk that pulled at his lips. But she knew his microexpressions like the back of her hand, even out of the corner of her eye. The Scot remembered Ghost’s presence suddenly and waved his hand in his direction. He hadn’t made any move to greet the newcomer and hadn’t spoken during the entire brief.

“Steamin’ Jesus, Ghost, you heard the man. Be nice to the lady!”

Ghost grunted, keeping his arms folded on his chest. “Captain.”

“Lieutenant.”

The two stared at each other, her brow quirked. As the seconds passed, the interaction became increasingly awkward for everyone else in the room. Even the thickest person on the planet could have sensed the tension. Unable to take the silence any longer, Gaz stepped in to attempt to relieve some tension. “You two worked together before?”

“You could say that,” Ghost stated as he rose from his chair. “A word, Freyja?”

Her tongue poked at the inside of her cheek and she squinted at him. It was almost comical, the height difference between the two. Typically, Soap would have made a snarky quip, if not for the vicious look in her eyes. He wouldn’t say it out loud to him, but the scowl rivaled his lieutenant‘s. Finally, she spoke, “Excuse us, gentlemen. I’ll see you in the morning. You know where to find me in the meantime.”

“G’night, Cap,” Soap nodded and moved to the side, allowing her to pass to the door. Ghost didn’t spare them another glance as he followed behind her. The two men stood silently until they heard a door slam shut up the hall. Soap snapped his gaze to Gaz and found him already looking with wide eyes.

“What was that about?”

Soap shrugged noncommittally. “Not a clue. Bad history? Ghost’s no’ exactly skilled in manners.” He went to head to his room when he noticed a military-issue duffel where Freyja had been standing, an American flag patch on the side. He bent down and slung it over his shoulder. “Left her stuff. I’m gonna drop it by ‘for hittin’ the hay. See ya in the mornin’.”

They went their separate ways, Gaz disappearing to the armory to stock up for the mission. Soap approached the only spare room in their wing and rapped his knuckles against the door. He waited for a few beats to no response and repeated the motion.

Nothing.

Soap’s brows furrowed when he heard what sounded like a muffled argument from the next door up, labeled “Lt. Riley”. Soap should have just left her duffel in front of her door and continued on his way to his bedroom, and gone to bed.

But no, he just had to snoop.

He crept toward the door, still holding the bag as he pressed his ear to the hollow wood. They clearly knew each other, but Ghost hadn’t seemed happy to see her. He felt a bit guilty spying on his lieutenant, but his curiosity was getting the better of him. He heard Ghost’s deep voice first.

“We had a deal. You’re supposed to be on leave, and Price knows that. I have half a mind to wring his fucking neck–”

“John didn’t ask me to be here, I volunteered–”

“Cut the shit, Y/N. I’m not daft. He has no place calling you in without asking me first.”

“I don’t take orders from you, Simon!”

Simon? Just how familiar were they with each other?

“Oh, I’m well aware. I just figured that when your husband asks you to stay home, you'd listen! How silly of me!”

So he knows her husband. Interesting. 

“That’s not fair, and you know it.”

“You want to talk about fair? You went around my back to my Captain. I’d say anything’s fair play at this point.” Heavy boots crossed the floor. “This isn’t just about you anymore. You’re not my superior, you’re–”

Soap shuffled his feet, he realized too late how loud the noise was in the empty hallway, and the voices suddenly stopped. He knocked in an attempt to recover, quickly stepping back from the door before it opened. The woman appeared, now in a too-big band tee, her dog tags resting on her chest. “Hi, Johnny,” she greeted, her tone significantly warmer than it had been a moment ago. 

He didn’t remember mentioning his preference for the name, but he couldn’t find a reason to comment on it then. “You, uh, left ya bag. Wanted to drop it off, figured you’d be here.”

“Oh, my bad. Thanks, I appreciate it.” He transferred her possessions to her. The bag that appeared standard when he carried it looked huge compared to her frame. The added weight did not phase her. “We have an early morning. I’m heading to bed.”

Ghost moved from his spot near the bed on the other side of the room. “Frey–”

She held a hand up, sending another chilling glare in his direction. Soap was impressed when Ghost didn’t even blink at the look. “Enough, Lieutenant. That’s an order.” He didn’t miss the eyes behind the skeleton glowering or how the fabric near his mouth shifted. 

“Yes, ma’am,” he growled through clenched teeth. 

She brushed by Soap, readjusting the bag on her shoulder as she stormed to her room, somehow gracefully maintaining her posture. Before he could turn back to question Ghost, the door swung shut in his face.

Real polite.

~*~

“Alpha-One, in position.”

“Copy that, one. Alpha-Two, in position.”

“Bravo?” Soap’s partner looked over his shoulder at the white light flashing at them in the distance. There was a muffled choking sound and a swallow, followed by a sniffle. “Freyja?”

“Sorry. Multiple armed guards. Two snipers at the east and west sides of the targets.” Her voice, while calm, sounded tired and a bit drained. As if she could sense the unspoken question, she came through their headsets again. “Little sick this morning. I’m fine.”

Ghost's jaw set and he rolled his shoulders, blinking a few times to focus. Soap noticed the motion and covered the mic on his headset. “You a’right, Lt.?” he asked, his voice concerned with his brows furrowed. 

Ghost ignored him. “Can you get a visual inside?”

“Negative. Windows are blocked in both buildings. You’re going blind.”

“What’s the call, ma’am?” Gaz’s voice.

“This is Price’s op. I’m just here for support.”

“Ghost?” Price this time. 

Ghost audibly sighed, his irritation at the situation clear. Soap wondered how bad their last encounter could have been for the usually collected man in front of him to be so disheveled. Soap looked over at the lieutenant, who had turned his attention back to the opening in the wall between them. “Bravo, hold your position. Understood?”

“Affirmative.”

“Alpha-One, move in on your target on my command.” Ghost clicked off his mic and slid the chamber back on his pistol, doing one final check.

Soap took the opportunity to follow up on his unanswered concern. “Ghost, you good? Seem tense. Something going on with the lass?”

“Shut up, Sergeant.” He reached up to click his headset back on. “Freyja cleared hot to engage.”

“Standby.” A beat passed, then another, until the suppressed shot of a sniper rifle rang through their headsets, followed by the bolt being pulled back and pushed forward. Another shot. “Clean hit. Snipers down.”

“Copy. Alpha-One, move in. Keep it quiet,” Ghost commanded, signaling Soap forward with a tilt of his head.

She watched Ghost and Soap move swiftly around structures and cars forward to their target. Her gaze periodically adjusted between them and Alpha-One, Gaz and Price. Soap’s accent was low in her ear. “Approaching target. Engaging two hostiles.”

The pair dispatched the guards with ease, the same as the other team up the road.

“Be advised, I have no eyes inside,” she reminded the group, surveying the surrounding area as both teams entered the building.

“Roger. Breaching.”

On their frequency, angry shouts and gunfire had her writing uncomfortably in her spot. She didn’t like not having a solid visual of her team; it made her feel helpless. The audio of the scene inside wasn’t helping her nerves (or nausea) much, either. The sniper was almost lost in her thoughts when she caught movement at the edge of her scope up the street.

Reinforcements.

“Ghost, engaging incoming hostiles. You might want to bug out,” she suggested, taking several shots at the armed men back-to-back. “Alpha-One, sound off.”

“Heard. Intel acquired,” Price acknowledged. “Clearing out.”

“Alpha-Two, how copy?”

The radio crackled once before Soap came through. “Copy, I’ve lost visual on Ghost. Got separated in the firefight,” he grunted, still firing shots inside the building. “‘M gonna have to squirt.”

Something wasn’t right. “Ghost, how copy?”

Silence.

“Lieutenant, what’s your status?”

Her skin crawled at the repeated silence. “Fuck.” She took a deep breath and pulled her knees underneath her body, her stomach suddenly stilling, nausea disappearing. “Abandoning post.” Her voice pierced through their radios with urgency. She abandoned her rifle and made her way down from her perch.

“Absolutely not. We’re converging at the meeting point now.” Price cursed under his breath as she brandished her sidearm and sprinted towards Ghost’s last location. “Stand down, Bravo, that’s an order!” The captain commanded, rough and authoritative.

“All due respect, Price, get bent.”

Price and Gaz watched helplessly as she disappeared into the structure, Soap approaching them from their flank. “The absolute balls on that one, aye?” he snickered, eyeballing Price. He didn’t even flinch, expression hard as steel as he rubbed his face. He hadn’t seen his captain that stressed in quite a while. Maybe not the time for jokes…

The blood-curdling screams Soap heard would scare any man straight. It sounded like a horror movie slaughterhouse over their comms, whether it was caused by Ghost or Freyja he didn’t know. He did know it was her voice that said Ghost’s name and assumed the distant, heated mumbling was Ghost. He must have lost his headset if they couldn’t hear him clearly, and what they were hearing was whatever her comms picked up. “Shut the fuck up and move. If you were fine, I wouldn’t be here, Lieutenant. You can thank me later,” she snapped, sounding eerily similar to a stereotypical angry wife. There’s no way she cleared out that entire convoy on her own…

Right?

Moments later, without any other gunfire, the pair emerged. Ghost was indeed missing his headset, while Freyja trudged in front of him, taking long steps to cross the street. Her helmet was gone, and her hair had come loose. Gun in one hand, a familiar black combat knife in the other, dripping blood. Strands of hair clung to her face, coated in dark red, along with her hands, bare arms, and vest. Soap’s eyes blew wide. “Steamin’ bloody Jesus, did she–?”

Price hummed and nodded beside him. In the same breath, she stumbled over to a car and gripped the door handle, dumping her stomach on the dusty road. Soap and Gaz moved to help, but Price stopped them with a single grunt. Ghost was immediately on her, expertly sweeping her hair into one hand as he pulled her earpiece out, cutting off their audio. One of her hands grabbed his vest for support while his other hand rested on her back.

“Well, that’s unusual,” Soap chimed, his head cocked to the side as he watched the display.

“Quit starin’ and load up. I doubt that’s the last of those reinforcements.” Price waved at them, catching Ghost’s attention and pointing to an approaching Heli, waving his hand in a “roll out” motion.

~*~

The ride back to base in the heli was one of the most awkward experiences of Soap’s life; not a word was spoken during the short trip. Ghost pulled a rag out of his vest and silently handed it to Freyja to wipe some blood from her face; she passed him the blade she had carried, and he finally placed its familiarity when Ghost tucked it into the empty holster at his hip. She looked utterly drained now that they were in close quarters. In another shocking moment, she rested her head on Ghost’s shoulder, and he didn’t move to shove her off.

What the fuck?

At the base, Ghost dropped her off at the medical bay before storming into the meeting room where the team had gathered to debrief. “You’re a dead man, Price,” he barked, finger jabbed at him as his skull plate skittered across the table when he threw it. “You fuckin’ knew–”

“Simon, I’m sorry–”

“Don’t “Simon” me. Sorry’s not gonna cut it, Captain! If she’s hurt–”

“I didn’t think she would compromise herself that easily.”

Ghost barked a dry, humorless laugh as he pointed in the general direction of the infirmary. “Of course, she’s bloody compromised! She’s my fuckin’ wife, you git!” he snarled, teeth viciously bared as he ripped off his mask.

“Hell’s fuckin’ bells…”

“Bloody hell…”

He was too angry (and, frankly, scared for his wife’s health) to acknowledge their audience. “This is exactly why I told you not to call her. I can’t focus if I’m worried about her safety right now. She’s supposed to be safe at home, resting, not running into a bloody warzone, for God’s sake!” 

“She was told not to leave her post–”

“When has she ever obeyed a direct order?”

Silence fell over the group, Price effectively losing the argument. Neither Sergeant wanted to find themselves on the other end of Ghost’s rage. They had no envy for Price and dared not get between them. No envy at all. On the other hand, Soap had so many questions. Since where was Ghost married? When did he have the time for a wife? And an American at that? How long had he been keeping her a secret?

“Simon.”

Four heads whipped to the soft voice across the room, finding the woman of the hour standing in the doorway. A superficial cut on her forehead had been taped up, her face clear of blood. Soap and Gaz stared at her in disbelief, jaws dropped as they looked from her to Ghost and back again. She chuckled at their expressions but didn’t move to approach them. “Captain Riley. Lovely to meet you both, officially,” she reintroduced herself, a slight smirk on her lips. She finally met her husband’s gaze, her expression softened at his bare face, save for the black paint.

He curled two fingers at her, one arm crossed over his chest. “C’mere. Now,” he ordered her, though his tone had little bite to it.

Even only knowing the sniper for such little time, Soap was outright shocked at the display. Flabbergasted by her obedience when she immediately strode to the spot next to him, barely leaving any space between their chests. It didn’t seem like her. He was obviously wrong, considering what he’d just witnessed. 

Ghost took a deep breath as he peered down at her, examining her visible skin for injuries. “I’m right pissed at you, love,” he muttered, allowing her to loop a finger in his belt loop.

She smiled up at him, her admiration clear now that the sergeants had been let in on the secret. “I know.”

“Don’t give me that look.” The man sighed exasperatedly and rolled his eyes. He knew he couldn’t hold his ground with that smile of hers. He dropped a gloved hand to rest on her lower belly, rubbing the spot with his thumb. “You alright?”

She placed her hand on top of his and bobbed her head. Her familiar glow from the night before had returned.

“I’d like an apology.”

“And I’d like a parade in my honor. Oh, and a good ol’ fashioned fu–”

“Oi, better watch that fuckin’ mouth of yours.”

“You love my mouth.”

“Tha’ I do. Just not right now, sweetheart.”

Soap couldn’t take it anymore. “Steamin’ blood Jesus L.t., are you…flirting?”

“Shamelessly,” she giggled, never once tearing her eyes away from the man towering over her.

Ghost rolled his eyes again, his other hand slipping into its home on the side of her neck. “You’re done. I mean it. And if you call her again, I walk,” he threatened, turning his head to address Price directly. “Don’t think I won’t.”

“Ghost, she held her own just fine,” Soap interjected from his chair. “Hen took out an entire squad practically single-handedly, plus the convoy before she went in after ya. I don’t see the problem.”

Realization dawned on Gaz suddenly, forcing him to his feet again. “You’re pregnant,” he exclaimed, both in shock and awe. “That’s why you were feeling sick. And the big clothes. You’re on maternity leave."

The lack of response from John and Freyja and how Ghost studied Gaz said everything they needed to know.

“No wonder you’ve been downright crabbit with her! Can’t say I blame ye, ‘s too dangerous out there to be mucking about with a little one in there.” Soap rose to his feet too, smiling like a cheeseball, ready to ruthlessly tease him. “How’d you manage that, Ghost? A bangin’ wife and a baby?”

“I know it’s been a while for you, Sarge–”

“Aw, away n’ bile yer heid!” the Scot barked, dismissing his lieutenant with a wave.

“English, MacTavish.”

“Sorry, sir, let me translate…Go fuck yourself.”

“Much better.”

He moved on from Ghost, addressing Freyja now. “I’ve so many questions! How long ‘ave you been together?” Soap leaned against the round table in front of them, his hands dragging across the shaved portion of his head.

“How old am I?” Ghost asked in a low, teasing timber.

Her upper lip tugged upwards as her hand wavered, indicating an estimate. “Five years, give or take.”

“Five years?! Son of the god-damn-devil, Lt! You’ve had a secret wife for five years–” He cut himself off with a gasp, his volume dropping to a brash whisper. “Does he take the mask off when you—”

“Tha’ll do, Johnny.”

Her bubbly laugh filled the room, and she swatted his tactical vest with her palm. “Si, don’t be an ass,” she warned, raising a brow at him. “Oh, John! I have pictures for you!” The woman let go of her husband and dug out folded ultrasound photos from her zipped pocket. She, Price, and Gaz moved to another corner of the room, gushing over the snapshots of her latest appointment before flying out, leaving Soap and Ghost alone by the meeting table.

A mischievous grin overtook Soap’s face. “An American, eh, Lt.? And she outranks you?”

“Not another word, Sergeant.”

A long pause stretched between them, although not long enough for Ghost’s liking.

“So… Goddess of love, beauty, and war,” he inquired, raising an eyebrow at the Brit, who threw him a questioning side-eye. Soap hummed. “Fitting.”

Soap almost gawked at the smirk (borderline smile) that Ghost bore as he watched his wife animatedly pour over her photos. “I’m well aware.” Another moment passed between them before Ghost fully turned to the other man. “Johnny?”

“Yeah, Ghost?"

“Flirt with my wife again, I’ll knock your teeth in."

"Noted, sir."

Copyright �� 2023 as-is-above-so-below. All rights reserved.

[wrenwinchester]

It was the writers strike of 2008, they had to cut the season short, so we didn’t get the arc Kripke wanted. (I love all of it. I just also recognize the dissonance between the first few seasons and later.) Kripke was never gonna include angels in the show, and then he had to find a way to save Dean from hell because he didn’t have time to keep him from going in the first place.

honestly only the first 3 seasons of supernatural are valid to me. and s3 is pushing it already. like holy crap ur telling me there's 12 other seasons of this and some gay angel? um gross.

if you read this and you think 'man you sound like you dont even like the show' well you would be right. i love the production of it (which loses itself past s3), i love its american backwater road trip of it (which loses itself past s3), i love the idea of spn and its bones of creation and kripke's developing vision (which loses itself past s3)

anyway eric kripke what happened. (stroking spn s1 in my lap) who did this to you baby. (a tear rolls down my cheek)

[asuyaka]

"How do the monster trio act around (and eventually get with) their crush?"

☆ - Monkey D. Luffy, Vinsmoke Sanji, Roronoa Zoro x M! reader.

♡ - guys m'sososososo insane ab these three m'literally gunna explode | also !! jus cus reqs ar gunna be closed, doesn't mean m'won't be uploadin !! jus not takin reqs f'the time bein (❁´◡`❁)

— MONKEY D. LUFFY.

He's so clingy around you, more than he is with anyone else.

Always, always, shares his food with you. Especially if you were busy training before dinner.

He's always around you no matter what. Oh? You're trying to help Sanji cook? He's on the floor watching you. Want to go buy supplies for Nami? He's clung onto your back like a Koala. Want to sleep due to a long day? He's right there in your bed with you.

He's so dorky about it too! Wants to spend every waking moment with you but doesn't know that he has a crush on you, just always wants ta be around you!

He's so jealous without even knowing it. What are you doing hanging out with Usopp when he's right here??

"[Name]..." Luffy groaned, clinging to your back with a sad expression on his face. He had his limbs wrapped around your torso and his head between your neck. "You aren't going to talk with Usopp again, are you?"

You stop walking, staring at him through the corner of your eyes. "Yes? I thought you and Usopp were best buddies, what happened?"

Luffy groans louder, causing Nami to yell at him to shut up from her room. "Nooooo, stay here and talk with meeeeeeee!" He wraps his arms around you three times (thanks to his devil fruit) and starts to shake your body around.

"Luffy— I can't even move if you don't let go of me!"

Luffy looks at you with puppy dog eyes. "Why hang out with Usopp when I'm right here?! I should be the only one you have eyes for..." He pouts as he presses his cheek against yours.

Your body flushes. Did... did he realize what he just said?

"Luffy, you can't say things like that if you don't know what they mean..." You huff, trying not to look too deep into what he could've meant by that. Luffy says things he doesn't mean, so you don't want to get your hopes up.

That only seems to coerce Luffy into whining. "I do know what it means! I said it, dummy! Stupid!! You should be mine, not Usopp's! I'm cooler and better and bigger and amazinger and uhm, you're mine because I say so!!"

Amazinger...?

You can't help the giggle that comes out of you, trying to force yourself to calm down while Luffy shakes you repeatedly. "[Name] c'mon, you'll be mine, right? Not Usopp! Cause, he can't cook and he's a sniper!"

"What does him being a sniper have to do with anything? And besides, you can't cook either Luffy."

Luffy blanks for a split second before going back to what he was doing. "I dunno. Doesn't matter! C'monnnnn, [Name], you're bullying meeeeeeeee!"

You hold onto Luffy's arm with a laugh, pressing your cheeks together as a form of affection. "Yes, Luffy, I'll be yours."

Luffy stares at you with surprise before turning back to his usual happy-go-lucky self. "Yippie!! Now, we can do all the things boyfriends do! Like go on dates, and eat together, and sleep together, and—"

As he continues to list off all the things he thinks boyfriends do, you can't help but chuckle.

Not like you two weren't doing that before his confession.

— VINSMOKE SANJI.

(inspired by @/sanjisboyfie 's oneshot ab this tragic little adorable man !! :3)

It took so long for Sanji to realize he liked you because he's not used to being attracted to men.

Thought that every time you complimented his cooking and his heart swelled up, it was just the flu. Nothing interesting or important.

Then, he started noticing how pretty your features were when you were eating, or how embarrassed he gets whenever it's just you and him in the kitchen.

When he realizes he does like you, his mind utterly falters, because... why would you like him back?

Even though there are lingering fears in his heart, he always tries his best to please you. Even if it means blushing like a moron whenever you address him directly.

"[Name]! I uhm, made this for you since you were... hurt, during our last fight." Sanji muttered nervously, averting his eyes as he held out a plate of food. Something small and easy to digest, but a food you like.

You smile warmly as you take the plate from his hands, your fingers brushing slightly as Sanji's face flusters even more. "This looks amazing! Thanks, Sanji. Do you want to sit with me? The seas are calm tonight."

Sanji pauses as he looks at you. His cigarette is inches away from falling out of his mouth and his face dazes.

"Sanij? You okay? You can say no, I won't be mad. It's not even your shift yet and everyone needs sleep." You say with an airy smile as you turn your attention to the food.

Sanji was right (like he was most of the time when it came to you and food), after the 'Big Mom incident' you were quite injured (and hungry). Seeing all the... talking food, didn't do much to raise your appetite.

There's a soft thud right beside you, long black legs resting a safe distance away from yours. A comfortable silence falls between the two of you, even if Sanji's cheeks are flushed and he's nervously playing with his thumbs.

"Wowww, this is really good Sanji!" You say happily, flashing Sanji a warm smile as you return to eating the food so gracefully given to you. Oblivious to the man beside you whose face looks so red it rivals Luffy's signature vest.

Sanji looks at you with nothing sort of affection. It's not the same as when Nami or Robin compliment him, you just saying his name is enough to make him flustered, but being this close to you alone might send him into cardiac arrest.

"[Name]...?" His voice is quiet, staring at you with expectant eyes.

You pause eating, covering your mouth, and cocking your head in confusion.

"This uhm... might be a weird question, but do you um,, l-like anybody?" He becomes more flushed with every word that comes out of his mouth.

The second you take too long to answer he starts to curse himself out for even sitting down. Everything was going so well until he opened his mouth—

"Yes, I do. What, trying to feel out if I'm single?" You tease with a light chuckle, picking up the last bit of food and holding it out expectantly. "You want some?"

Sanji can't say no to you. Even if he tries his hardest, his body will not let him say no, not to an indirect kiss; especially when you're offering. Even if you might not see it in the same light he does.

He opens his mouth and lets you place the spoon in his mouth as your eyes turn into crescents. "See? Does it taste good?"

God— Sanji feels like he's going to explode.

He nods, begging himself to calm down before his mind starts to run.

"Oh," You say suddenly, "—that was an indirect kiss, wasn't it?" You lin hum thoughtfully and place the plate beside you, letting out a soft yawn as you stretch. "You sure you don't need to—"

"I am so in love with you."

"...pardon?"

Sanji stands up immediately, his face red. "Nothing!! I'm sorry, I'm really sleepy now so I'll—"

"Sanji, what did you say?" You ask carefully, holding onto his hand to try and stop him from running away.

"It's nothing, [Name], please just let me—"

"Sanji." Your voice comes off soft, relaxing your body so you come off as gentle and not hostile. "Just say it, one more time for me, okay?"

Sanji could feel his entire body burning up just from holding hands, more so from him getting caught blurting out his feelings again. He stares at the floor of the Sunny, too ashamed to look you in the eyes. "I... I'm in love with you? I'm sorry if you don't like me back, I didn't mean it I swear!"

"Sanji, what makes you think I don't like you back? Better question, what makes you think I didn't know?" You cock your head playfully, pulling him gently so he's sitting again.

"...what?"

You chuckle. "I've heard all the other embarrassing times you've confessed your feelings, it's just that the crew was around and I didn't want to put you on the spot. I've liked you since we met on the Baratie, silly."

Sanji's eyes widen as his mouth falls agape. You've liked him... for two years?!

"Sanji...?" You move up to straddle him, your hands resting on his cheeks. "Can I... kiss you?"

Sanji nods so fast he thinks his head might fall off.

You smile, leaning forward to press your lips together. Sanji's body physically relaxes as he practically melts into you, his face redder than blood.

It takes all his willpower and the need to breathe for him to finally pull away from you. His face is flushed and his breathing is heavy, staring at you like you're the only man in the world— like you're the prettiest thing in the world.

You giggle, pressing your heart onto his chest. "I love you so much."

Zoning back into reality, he carefully places his arms around your waist. "I love you too, so so much [Name],"

— RORONOA ZORO.

Zoro isn't good at expressing his emotions, everyone knows that.

So, when he figures out he might have a romantic attraction to you, he's confused about what to do. Considers asking Nami about it, but goes with Robin since Nami is... an interesting woman!

Robin tells him to be upfront with his feelings, or subtly tell the person.

He's a naturally mature person, having a crush on his crewmate doesn't change that by any means.

Even if he is cold to everyone, if you two are alone on the deck of the Sunny, he lets you sleep with him or touch his swords.

Just having you around is enough to calm him down. Seeing as his biggest love language is quality time and you enjoy talking about the randomest things around him, it makes his heart flutter whenever you act like he's the only person in the world who you care about.

"Mhm! And did you know that otters hold hands when they're asleep?" You point to an otter in the marine life book Zoro got you during your last pit stop.

Zoro shakes his head, his arms crossed with a small, barely noticeable amused smile on his face.

"Yeah! It's so they don't drift off when they're asleep. Not sure anyone knows why, but I like to think it's because they don't want to lose each other. After all, they're social animals! Oh! They also like to cuddle a lot—"

"Kind of like me and you, no?" Zoro interrupts with a playful aura, causing your train of thought to stop, face flushing as you stare at his smug expression.

"Um, y-yes! Like... like me, and you..." Your voice progressively gets smaller under Zoro's gaze. He moves closer, causing you to move your arms back, resting on your palms. "Zoro?"

"Keep telling me about the otters, don't worry," He replies coyly, grabbing you by the waist and bringing you into his lap.

Your face flushes, stuttering over your words as you nod. Shakily grabbing the book to bring it closer. Carefully picking your words, you begin speaking again. "They might also, uhm, hold hands because they don't have very thick fur. It could be to share body heat and keep warm, since they get cold easily."

"What if I said we were otters?" Zoro asks from behind you, resting his chin on your head.

"Ah, then we'd have to hold hands when we sleep!" Quickly realizing what you said, you try to reel it back in. "O-of course, only if you want to! I wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable or anything, I know how much you like your personal space so—"

"You're in my personal space and it doesn't look like I mind very much, does it, [Name]?"

Twiddling your thumbs meekly, you shake your head no. Zoro laughs and takes one of your hands, putting it above his. The size difference is obvious, your fingers stop just below his second knuckle. Something about that causes a riot in your brain, especially when Zoro squeezes them together.

"Okay, another question," Zoro starts, moving the intertwined hands to your lap. "What if I asked you to be my boyfriend?"

You turn around immediately, staring at him with wide eyes. He isn't... joking, is he? Zoro doesn't normally joke about things (unless he's with Sanji), so it wouldn't make sense for him to joke about this. Especially when it's something so serious.

"Hm? What's your answer, pretty boy?"

You've liked Zoro ever since he sat down and listened to you talk about the different kinds of fishmen after the ordeal with Arlong. Zoro has never expressed romantic attraction to anybody, not even to the bountiful amounts of women who've expressed attraction to him.

Your mind blanks, and you must've been staring at him for too long because the smallest bit of worry falls on his face. "You okay? I'm not forcing you, you know? Saying no is okay."

Saying... no? To a man that looks like he was crafted by Zeus himself? Hell no! "No! I-I mean, yes, I mean—"

"Take your time pretty boy, I'm not going anywhere."

He's adjusted your position to where you're facing each other, hands still intertwined as he looks at you with a soft (?) expression. Taking a deep breath, you force yourself to make eye contact with him.

You've never looked at his this close before. Sure, you two have cuddled to sleep on countless nights, but then you were always faced away from each other.

He has long eyelashes. Not extremely long, but longer than you thought they were. Even if his eyes are black, you've noticed they soften whenever he looks at you, it makes him pretty.

Meekly, you nod. Holding your head down to try and hide your embarrassment. Before you can, though, Zoro stops you by lifting your chin up with his finger. "You can use words, can't you?"

It should sound condescending, the way he's talking to you, but it sounds more encouraging than anything. Even if there might be light teases mixed with his words.

"Yes, I, I would want to be your uhm... your boyfriend."

Zoro grins at that, pressing a quick kiss on your lips and twisting you around, pulling you closer so the back of your head is between his boobs pecs. "Love you, pretty boy."

"I-I love you too, Zoro," You force out, even if it feels like you're overheating due to the blood rushing to your cheek and... other places, as well as Zoro's added body heat.

You two truly were like otters.

[sgt-tombstone]

au where Johnny never joined the military (his knee got fucked up before he could and they wouldn’t let him enlist) but it’s okay because that means he got to go to college and study engineering, which is the closest he could get to being a civilian demolitions expert

Anyway, the city his college is in has an army base nearby, which means that every dating app he opens is flooded with army boys looking to marry the first person who so much as looks at them the right way. Johnny’s never been relationship-oriented; he likes hookups too much to settle down like that, but he loves scrolling through to drool over all of the gym pictures

And then one catches his eye. Simon. He doesn’t show his face on his profile, but his muscles more than make up for it. His appearance, though, isn’t what Johnny is most interested in, because his bio says…

Anyone interested in committing marriage fraud?

And that’s… something.

So of course Johnny swipes. He doesn’t expect to match, because Simon looks like a Greek God, and he almost throws his phone across the room when the little heart appears, telling him that he and Simon have both swiped on each other. Which means that Simon swiped on him first. It’s a heady feeling, but he’s not really sure why.

John: marriage fraud?

It’s not his strongest first message, but sue him, he’s curious.

Simon: I’m not interested in a relationship or even sex, but I have a very vested interest in being able to move off base

John: so, what? we get married and then…?

Simon: we don’t have to live together or even like each other. You can finish your studies, get the tax benefits, and live your life as you choose while I get to move off base and maintain my privacy

Honestly, it sounds like a win/win to Johnny. He’s not struggling financially per se, but being able to live exactly as he is while also gleaning tax benefits is… an attractive choice.

John: and if I meet someone else that I’m serious about?

Simon: I have no qualms about an uncontested divorce

John: let’s meet up for lunch and discuss the details

———

Lunch is a simple affair, just a local restaurant, frequented by students and soldiers alike, so they both fit in well. Simon is unfairly attractive, even if he only reveals the bottom half of his face to eat or drink. He’s massive and blond and his eyes do something to Johnny’s insides that he can’t bring himself to dissect further. They chat over their food, sharing details about themselves. Johnny shares more than Simon, and he has a hunch that that’s on purpose, but he doesn’t mind. They click instantly, and Johnny can tell that Simon is taken aback by that. It’s sweet, almost, the way that such a large military man is floundering in the face of genuine human connection. After they’ve finished, they turn to business.

With a quiet, deep voice, Simon lays out his entire plan, and Johnny is fully on board. He’s ready to sign the papers today, but they legally have to wait a month.

It’s the longest month of Johnny’s life.

They text constantly, or as constantly as they can. Sometimes Johnny feels inordinately young and sometimes very inferior; while he’s talking Simon’s ear off about some explosive compound used in building demolitions, Simon is off… doing god knows what, god knows where, serving the country. But Simon always listens, always sounds engaged over the phone when they call, always has follow-up questions that show he’s actually interested. And while Simon can’t talk much about his work, he can talk about details. Small stuff; the awful food, the hot dust where he’s stationed, the day-to-day activities that don’t give away too much. Johnny learns that he’s a lieutenant, a sniper (though that’s more through context clues than anything else), that he wears a mask all the time to protect himself, that he doesn’t like scrambled eggs (or at least, not military scrambled eggs), that he has a very complex skincare routine, that he respects the hell out of his captain. That he’s a good man, or tries to be. That he’s a sweetheart, deep down, despite trying to hide it.

They eventually get married, down at the courthouse, with Simon’s captain, Price, and Johnny’s best mate, Kyle, as witnesses.

And then life goes on. Johnny continues his studies, continues going to parties and hooking up with people every weekend, continues living his life. He assumes that Simon does the same. They keep in contact, for the most part, except when Simon’s in the field and he can’t have his phone, but he always brings back little inconsequential stories when he returns. It’s nice, in a way. They’d never exchanged rings, but sometimes Johnny wishes they had, just so he had something tangible to tie him to his husband.

I’m not sure how it would end, though…

Maybe it would be Sweet Home Alabama style, where Johnny finds someone that he thinks he loves and has to get Simon to sign the divorce papers, only to realize at the last minute that he really doesn’t want to, that he’s been in love with Simon all along

Maybe Simon gets medically discharged and ends up moving in with Johnny, where they both dance around their feelings for each other, despite already being married

Maybe they just… realize one day, that they’ve slowly but surely fallen in love with each other over the years and suddenly, nothing else matters because they’ve got a lot of lost time to make up for

[charliemwrites]

Sooooo I learned a valuable lesson last night. Which is not to draft things in tumblr. Because I wrote almost all of this in drafts, was like 15 minutes from posting. And then the app glitched when I changed the song I was listening to and lost everything.

I’m not entirely sure I wrote this version half as well as the original, which is maddening. But please enjoy this next part to the Mister(s) Steal Your Girl (poly 141) series.

Content:Safe/Sane/Consensual Intimacy

You honestly didn’t expect to speak to Kyle again after the bookshop encounter. Sure, you exchanged numbers and he seemed so sincere, but your faith in reading people has been a bit shaken as of late.

That said, you wouldn’t have held it against him if you didn’t. You’d had a wonderful time meeting someone new, even if just for a moment. He seemed like a busy man in a high-stress job, it wouldn’t be a surprise if he looked at your open-relationship-with-a-fiance situation and decided it was too much drama.

But the very next day after meeting him, he sends you a text. Repeating that he had a great time and asking if you’ve already started any of the books you bought.

You try (and probably fail) not to giggle like a schoolgirl every time he texts you. He’s as sweet through the phone as he was in person. Throughout the week, he checks on you (more messages than you’ve gotten from your fiance in a month) asking after your days and nights and generally chatting.

On Thursday at lunch, you ask if he’d like to meet up again, heart clenching anxiously. Nearly throw your phone across the break room when his name pops up as an incoming call.

When you answer, he doesn’t even waste time on a greeting.

“I’d like to take you on a date, luv,” he specifies, voice silky and amused in your ear.

Date one is a nice dinner. He shows up at the door with flowers. You have to take a second to blink away the mist in your eyes.

“Sorry, sorry,” you hurry to say, summoning a smile. “Just no one’s ever bought me flowers. Thank you, they’re wonderful.”

And then you realize that probably sounds pathetic and quickly turn away to deposit them in a vase. (Miss the baffled and almost offended frown on Kyle’s face as that processes.)

At dinner, the two of you toast by tapping your appetizers together. He feeds you bites of his meal from his own fork, and you let him try your wine, giggling at the faces he makes.

The night ends (after dessert, a walk in the park, and a nightcap at a quiet bar) at your front door. Kyle fits a big, warm hand on your waist, pulls you in… and drops a chaste kiss to your cheek.

You try not to let your disappointment show, but he must catch it because he chuckles and gently nudges your face back into position. Graces you with another kiss at the corner of your mouth.

“I want to, darling,” he admits, so close you’re sharing air. “Trust me, I want to. But I need you to know I’m doing this for the right reasons too.”

Touched and a little choked up, you hug him tight, cheek pressed to his chest. His breath stutters. And then his strong arms are curling around you, tucking you in, his whole body becoming a warm haven.

“Can we… can we do this again?” you ask hopefully.

“Darling, I’d take you out tomorrow if you’d let me.”

Date two is bowling, which you find Kyle is actually terrible at, despite being a sniper. You laugh and joke through three games, trouncing him each time. He doesn’t seem to mind losing in the slightest, and even takes you out for a victory ice cream afterwards. You hold hands while you lick at the cone.

Date three, you invite him to a wine and paint night. He seems willing, though unsure. By the end, though, the two of you are giggling and tipsy, paint on your hands and faces. He kisses you against the passenger door of his car, lips soft and gentle. Moans when the tip of his tongue skims your bottom lip.

On date four, you sing to the radio in the car. Blush when you catch him sneaking glances at you, but also notice that he goes around the same block twice. Tease that you’re going to be late if he keeps stalling.

At the end of the night, he sweeps you in close on the dance floor.

“Come home with me?” he asks in your ear.

Your heart stumbles as you nod, cheeks hot.

He barely gets you in the door before pressing you back against it. Fingers in your hair, body one firm line pressed flush to yours. Kissing earnest but not rough, flicking at your bottom lip until you open for him with a soft sigh. He tastes like heaven, like the drinks you shared before this. Your fingers curl into his Henley, tugging him closer, arching your back.

The desire he’s been steadily building in your gut bursts into an inferno. You’re burning all over, can barely breathe. Dizzy with his cologne.

You break the kiss with a squeak when he scoops up beneath the thighs.

“I-I’m too heavy!” you gasp, clinging tight.

“Like hell you are,” he scoffs. “Come back here, I’m not done kissing you.”

You hesitate, taking stock. But he doesn’t feel like he’s straining; didn’t even make that mortifying grunt noise. Feel secure enough to lean back just a bit to check his expression.

There’s not an ounce of effort there. Just liquid dark eyes focused on your swollen lips, tilting his chin to coax you back. You go with a little thrill in your stomach, messier this time, teeth scraping.

He bumps you against the wall on his way to the bedroom. It doesn’t hurt but it makes you laugh against his cheek.

“Love your laugh,” he murmurs into your neck. “Could listen to it all day.”

Somehow that makes you flush more than the hard bulge pressing against your ass. So you shove your tongue in his mouth again to shut him up, breathless at his tongue curling against yours.

You squeal when he drops you on the bed with a little bounce, a brilliant, cheeky smile your reward. Then he tugs his shirt off and your mind goes utterly blank.

He’s a monument of strength and discipline, power in every plane of hard-earned muscle. There are glossy scars peppering his skin, and you’re fascinated as much as you are sad for his pain. He looks like a young god. You’ve seen marble statues half as beautiful as him.

“You’re bloody gorgeous,” you whisper, crawling to the edge of the bed.

He shivers and leans into your palms as they explore up his toned stomach, across the defined lines of his chest and shoulders, down his arms. Leave open-mouthed kisses against long-healed wounds and patches of smooth skin alike, appreciating every part of him.

He uses your interlocked fingers to draw you away, bending to meet you halfway. Speckles kisses over your cheeks and jaw, down to a tender spot beneath your ear that makes you hum. You could melt into him and just float.

He pauses there, breathes you in. “Can I take this off?” he asks, plucking at your shirt. You hesitate, just for a beat — but it’s enough to have Kyle pulling back a little.

“We can stop here,” he offers. “Or we can just keep doing this. Whatever you want, luv, I’m not fussed.”

You duck your head, but he doesn’t let you escape for long, gently guiding your gaze up by the chin.

“Talk to me?” he asks.

“I-I want to keep going,” you say, “I’m just… and you’re so…”

He shakes his head, kisses you quiet. “I’m not anything but a man that wants to make his girl happy. In whatever way she’s okay with, yeah?”

You have to blink away another sting of inopportune tears. Then reach for your shirt and pull it off yourself.

“Bloody hell,” he murmurs, eyes going big.

You flush as he nudges you back, spread out amongst the neat sheets and pillows. His eyes trace every inch of you over and over, hands quick to follow. The contrast of his rough palms on your skin makes you squirm and sigh. He touches you like you’re something special, like he wants to savor you.

He nibbles kisses into your collarbones, lavishes your breasts with tongue and gentle teeth. Works his way down your stomach and stops again.

“Can I take the rest off?” he asks.

You don’t hesitate this time, shifting to give him access to the zipper. His hands fumble a bit when he notices the embarrassing wet patch on your underwear, thumbing at your slit through the fabric.

“Please let me eat you out,” he breathes.

You press your thighs together, nervous. “Y-you don’t have to…”

“I want to, luv,” he answers, eyes barely flickering away. “Fuck do I want to.”

Words desert you, so all you can manage is a jerky nod. For the first time, his patience seems to fray as he tugs your underwear off. Barely gets them down to one ankle before diving between your legs.

He laces sweet kisses along your thighs and hips, slowing as he gets closer and closer to where you want him most. His tongue dips into your slit, just skims your throbbing and sensitive clit. You moan softly. The next swipe of his tongue is bolder, curling at your soaked entrance. He groans into you, deep and animal from his chest and makes you shudder.

“That’s it, baby,” he whispers. “Just enjoy.”

It’s impossible not to when he pampers your cunt so thoroughly. Never rough, never too fast. Like he could spend all night between your thighs. Sucking gently at your clit, thrusting his tongue inside, lapping in perfect, even strokes. You didn’t think you enjoyed oral from the few times you’ve experienced it — but Kyle makes it heavenly.

One of his hands, squeezing absently at your hip, travels down. He presses a finger at your entrance, playing in your slick but not going further. Waiting. You murmur a soft “please” that nearly has him growling.

Even just one finger feels like so much. His hands are bigger than yours. And so deliciously clever. It’s not long before you’re babbling for another, crying out softly when he provides. Two fingers curling and rubbing against your slick, sensitive walls and his tongue swirling around your needy clit — it’s so much. Overwhelming and perfect.

“K-Kyle, ‘m gonna…” you keen, shocked by how quickly it’s building.

Then he hums an encouragement and that little extra bit of stimulation sends you hurtling over the edge. You clench around his hand, hips twitching, grinding against his willing mouth through wave after wave. Not even aware of the noises you’re making until they fade off into soft whimpers of overstimulation.

Kyle eases his fingers from you, drops one last kiss to your hip. The lower half of his face is glistening. If you weren’t still somewhere in the stratosphere, you’d be embarrassed. But right now all you can manage is a quiet, needy noise, reaching for him.

He smiles and crawls over you, the warmth of his body soothing your shivery muscles, easing you through aftershocks. You wipe absently at his chin as you exchange lazy, sloppy kisses. Surprised to find that you don’t mind the taste of yourself; not much different than jizz.

“Give me… another second…” you mumble, head falling back as you catch your breath. “I’ll return the favor.”

Against your leg, you can feel him twitch through his jeans. He feels big. Your stomach clenches with want.

“That sounds bloody amazing, don’t get me wrong,” he answers, voice husky in your ear. “But if you’re up for it, I’d like to feel you cumming ‘round my cock.”

You gasp, not sure if you’re scandalized or even more turned on than before. Both?

“Wait, but I already…”

“I know, I was there,” he teases, kissing your temple. “But I wanna see it again. Feel it proper this time.”

You pause, blinking up at him as you trace your fingers along his ribs. “But isn’t that… I dunno, unfair?”

“Fuck no,” he answers. “I’d spend all night just making you cum if you let me.”

You huff and swat at him. “I think you’d kill me.”

“What a way to go, though, eh?” he chuckles, arching his eyebrows.

You groan, but there’s no hiding your grin. He brushes hair back from your face, cups your cheek.

“What do you say, baby? Let me fuck you good and proper.”

You snort, turn to nip his thumb in relation, but chirp, “yes, please!”

Previous | Next

Masterlist

[machveil]

How would our sweet shy Konig act when dealing with a reader who is openly down bad for him, and isn't shy about expressing it? I'm talking openly staring/making eyes at him even when they're caught, sighing when they see him bent over or squatting (I know he got a fatty, I just know it), saying "wish that were me" when sparring and seeing him put someone in a headlock, hears someone mutter "fuck the colonel" and goes "I'm fucking trying", etc. I just wanna (probably poorly) rizz this man up, I'm trying to climb this tree of a man like a coconut crab, ya feel me? -🐸

we are the same person I fear I wrote this in one go, pray for me

CW: inexperienced!König, give my boy a smooch, he deserves it!!

König doesn’t know what to do at first - his poor brain is dizzy and running in circles trying to figure out what’s happening! he’s never been popular amongst people, especially romantically. throughout his childhood and teen years no one had a crush on the social recluse, let alone approached him to be friends

so when you start publicly talking about how much you like him? König isn’t sure if it’s a mean joke or if you’re serious. he’s been on the receiving end of pranks in high school, peers asking him out as a dare or bet only to not show up. but you? he’s not really sure if it’s a joke with how persistent you are

König is beet red under his hood, eyes wide when he hears you make comments about him - he’s caught on to your smitten gaze, how you whisper to other soldiers about his physique, how you tell him face-to-face he’s cute despite never seeing… him, unmasked and vulnerable. it baffles him, genuinely. he’s not sure if this some weird game you started, maybe it’s just playful teasing?

König wasn’t sure until he heard someone curse him out in passing - a new recruit that had gotten on his nerves. König was about to have a word with them, but then he heard you. “God, who shoved a stick up that prick’s ass? Fuck the Colonel, he—“ “I’m trying to.”, a little quip that had König frozen. “I mean, sorry, but have you seen him? God, I mean really, have you seen his thighs?”

König isn’t sure if he’s breathing or not when you notice him, an innocent smile and a cute wave thrown in his direction, “Oh— König! Hey, I was just talking about you!”, god help him, all he can do is swallow and nod, giving you his own awkward wave

König who works up the nerve to talk to you about what’s been happening - is this a sick joke? is this a prank? he’s floored when you tell him you’re being genuine, that you do really, really like him. he’s heard you thirsting over him for weeks and you’ve meant it?

it takes a couple more conversations before he’s hand in hand with you, palm a little sweaty as he leads you to his room. for as big and intimidating as he is, he really is inexperienced. when he told you that he’d only had tipsy, bad sex after bar nights he didn’t expect you to say you’d treat him right - he didn’t expect you to want him to begin with though

maybe that’s why he’s a little quiet at the beginning, big hand shaky as they awkwardly sqeezes your hand. he’s not confident in what he’s doing, not sure what would feel good. all he knows is that he wants his sniper hood off. so he flicks the light off in his room, submerged in the dark where you won’t see his face - you won’t see the scars and freckles that dot his skin

but when you sit him down on the bed, kiss his face and cup his cheek, he melts when you pay attention to his roughed up skin. biting back little moans when you straddle his thigh and nip at his neck. he can’t help it when his hips buck involuntarily, squirming when you grind against his jean clad thigh. it’s all a blur of sweet words cooed at him, your clothes tugged off and slow, sweet prep. he’s drooling a little, jaw slack and broken moans leaving his mouth when you sink down onto him. it isn’t like those bad hookups after drinking, it makes him feel loved

his hands glued to your hips, he cracks a dopey, fucked out smile when you murmur about doing this again - a whine resonating in the back of his throat when you kiss him, “Ah— Liebling, please— please—“, hips clumsily bucking up to meet yours

[ssvnriseya]

NEED YOU (D.D)

summary - you and daryl were in a fight and he got jealous when he saw you with another man.

warnings - MDNI 18+ oral, (m! receiving) p in v, breeding kink, daddy kink, pet names, dom!daryl × sub!reader, virgin! reader, jealousy, age gap (reader! in her early 20's, daryl! in his mid 40's), loss of virginity, aftercare, intended lowercase.

note - okay! second time writing smut, hope you like it. lol, i'm really hoping it's the smut of your expectation, this is my longest, probably about six or five thousand words?!

masterlist

"we brought dinner." daryl spoke, holding the raccoon up when the gate opened.

"they're okay, they're okay." aaron assured the guy on guard duty when he and eric entered, your group all held their guns by their side.

you smiled warmly at the man when his gaze landed on you, ready to make a good impression and give this place a chance, for judith and all of you.

he then looked back at aaron and the rest of your group walked in, you almost felt embarrassed with the clothes you had on, dirty hospital scrubs.

it was rather dirty and older compared to their clean clothes, you have tried everything to find other clothes but your group's luck and hope ran out ever since beth and tyreese died, you all didn't even get lucky with the village you all checked out.

just as the gate was about to close there was a walker, groaning and trying to get to them. rick nodded at sasha and she raised her sniper, shooting the walker.

"you all should probably talk to deanna first." aaron said as they looked around them in awe, how could something like this place still stand?

"but before that, give up your guns. you stay, you give us your guns." the smug looking guy said, you looked at rick for his reaction.

"we don't even know if we want to stay." rick growled, the smug guy shrugged and aaron frowned at him. he assured rick and the group.

"it's just a precaution, if you want to stay though, you can get your guns back when you go outside the walls." he quickly said and explained.

rick nodded and the group lined up, placing their guns on the cart carefully, some sending a glare on the alexandrians.

"you'll talk to deanna first, then i can show you your houses." aaron said casually, your mouth was gaped open.

"as in plural? you're really giving us houses, for free?" you said at him in disbelief, a few of your group members chuckling at you.

"it isn't the same world anymore, where you have to pay for a piece of shit of a land, and pay more to construct a house." daryl frowned, remembering something.

how he worked his ass off on his work to pay rent and getting paid low, not even enough to save up for a piece of land.

"okay." you said, shrugging as you watched rick go into deanna's house.

"what do you think she'll ask? like do you have a husband, a daughter, or an affair or something?" you blabber to the ear next to you, not realizing it's daryl as you stared at the house, as if waiting for rick to come out crying.

when someone grunted, you turned to see daryl drowning, as usual.

"okay, fine. be that way." you pouted at him and turned away from him, when rick came out, abraham, glenn, noah, rosita and others went next.

all of you was done by the time the sun was almost going down but still blazing hot.

basically deanna just asked you about how you survived outside the walls, what you did to survive, and she bragged about being a political. you tuned her out for most of that.

"we're going to stay in the house together for tonight, rick said." you told daryl who was at the porch and staring into nothing.

"‘m coming in a few minutes." he spoke and you nodded entering the house, you saw rick come out of the hallway and you were shocked.

"oh my— is that you, rick?!" you teased him, he smiled at you warmly.

"shower's free. there's a few clothes for you on the counter by a folk here." rick said as he turned to michonne to watch her reaction.

you snickered at him, he was like a school boy all over again. like getting a haircut and seeing if your crush liked it.

you showered quickly and changed into a pair of pink pajamas. "shower and brushing is refreshing." you sighed as you stretched onto the mattress.

"oh my goodness, for the couples here tonight, please refrain yourselves from like you know..." you teased the couples, most likely rosita and abraham.

abraham smirked at you, "why don't you explore here, go and find someone to bump uglies with." he laughed followed by a few others.

you didn't notice the way daryl rolled his eyes from the corner, an angry expression on his face.

"maybe, i will. once we get settled in here nicely, when we don't have to worry about things anymore... i actually want to find someone to be with me for the rest of my life." you whispered to abraham as a few others engaged into a conversation themselves.

"i hope you find that, little one." he smiled at you like a big brother would, and patted your hair.

"deanna's hosting a party?" rosita asked where you, rosita, maggie, tara, sasha and michonne sat around in the living room.

"yeah, she said tonight." tara nodded, you six had nothing to do as the other went on to explore outside.

"they really don't know anything about what's outside these walls... if they still can think about hosting parties." you sighed.

"deanna said that this place was right from the start, they just built up those walls for protection." michonne shrugged, drinking her coffee.

"they're spoiled, never really knowing how to fight." maggie agreed, it was like a normal morning again... chatting with your friends with no worries about what might happen later.

"well, if she's hosting a party... let's find clothes to wear and might just enjoy the liquors there." sasha raised her brows up and down, suggestively.

you all chuckled and agreed with her, promising each other to go together in the garage where almost hundreds of free clothes were.

you parted from them and went to find daryl, if it wasn't that obvious, you like him, deeply.

you always went to find reasons to be near him but as far as you know, daryl didn't care about you. almost hating your presence whenever you volunteered to go with him on dry runs.

you have tried everything to get closer to him but he always seemed to find a way to push you away. he ignores you most of the time, says harsh words, avoid you completely.

but even though he's like that, you never gave up, always comforting him when you noticed he was down.

you still pursued your feelings for him after all these years, thinking that you might have a chance with someone like him.

how can you not like him? he was selfless, he was kind, he was caring, he cares for judith like he was her uncle, and most of all, he loves.

it might not be that obvious but you know that he loves, so that's why you hoped that he will love you too, not like a friend, but more than that.

but being here made you realize a few things, daryl is never the type of guy to settle down for relationships, even before the end of the world, as merle said.

daryl has priorities and being in a relationship like you wanted was never one of them, he was a guy who never believed in love.

daryl is an emotionally unavailable man, he was all about surviving, so you know he never will have time for shitty relationships, as he said when you asked him one day.

"d–do you ever want to be in a relationship? when we find a safe place?" you asked him as you stared into the fire, you and him were guarding camp and the rest were asleep.

"don't have time f' shitty relations'." he grunted, and you know that was the end of the conversation.

you both were the total opposite, and you know total opposites never work.

he was shy, you weren't, you were talkative, he wasn't, he doesn't love to express his emotions, you do. and there was so much more to it.

just thinking about all of it makes your heart break, maybe it was really time to move on from him, you never even had a chance in the first place.

now that you were in a safe place with the group you considered your family, you were happy.

the group was happy, mostly, rick and daryl still didn't trust this place for a bit.

but you know that someday they will when they had a chance to see the potentials of this neighborhood.

"you're going to move on from him, starting tonight, at the party." you whispered to yourself as you found yourself staring at him, sitting at the porch.

"hey, daryl!" you waved at him, you were shocked how you felt that your heart wasn't going to jump out of your chest anymore, unlike before.

maybe you really were starting to move on.

"deanna has a party, are you coming?" you asked him, squinting your eyes as the sun glared at you from above.

"the rest of the group is coming..." you quickly added as he wore his angry face.

"don't have time f' parties, all you ever do is party. what about waking up, huh? you're back in yer' own lil' world, caring all about drinking."

he spoke long, you can feel your heartstrings breaking. of course, he still remembers.

you, him, and beth escaped the prison together, when you were by the fire, eating snake... you missed everyone, you can't think about anything else so you want to forget.

so you suggested to go find liquors, but daryl didn't respond and beth seemed to realize something, you had a tantrum and left them there, beth following you after cursing daryl for making you upset.

beth was a curious young girl, only a two year or four year gap between you, so she asked why you still want to drink after all that's happened. so you happily explained how the drink makes you forget all the pain and memories, at least just for a while. you both spent days and nights being brats to daryl.

so you, beth, and daryl found a golf club where you and beth tried to find any alcohol, only finding peach schnapps. you immediately declined it.

and daryl had a rampage, throwing the bottle away and leading you and beth to a cabin, full of moonshine.

then it all went downhill there, you guys drank and after, you burned the house down and daryl taught beth how to hunt.

you all found a parlor home and went to stay there but it got attacked by a small herd and daryl told you and beth to wait for him by the road, where you got taken.

you both woke up in a hospital, then worked there. then the group came for you after a week or two. dawn never had the intention of letting you go so she grabbed beth and carol.

then that's where it happened, dawn died... along with beth. you went out of your room and instantly ran to the group.

"okay... but you don't have to be an asshole in everything, i miss her too and i regret that i wasn't even able to save her!you think it's just you? well sorry to disappoint you i was there too!" you said and walked away from the house, tears brimming your eyes when you remembered beth.

he didn't have to be a super asshole about it, he could've just declined you nicely and you wouldn't have to be remembered of beth.

the party only didn't mean alcohol... your group might meet new people, and neighbors, that's if rick decided to settle down here.

"hey, maggie. you're more beautiful tonight!" you complimented her as glenn has his arms around maggie's waist.

"hey, abe, watch rosita tonight, men are eyeing her." you warned him with a smile as you walked further into the party.

you were still upset at daryl but you didn't let it ruin your mood tonight, you greeted a few people from alexandria before walking towards the rest of your group.

"hi, you're all so handsome and beautiful tonight." you hugged them and kissed their cheeks.

"where's robin hood?" carol asked, her gaze around the party, trying to find the redneck.

"he didn't want to come..." you explained.

"well, you go enjoy the party, honey. me and rick just have something to discuss." she told you like a mother would, making you smile.

"okay, carol." you smiled and walked away from them, grabbing yourself a glass of juice when you walked by the table. you felt a presence beside you but ignored them.

"hi, i'm lance." a voice beside you spoke, you turned and smiled at the charming man.

"hi..." you greeted and said your name. he held out his hands for you to shake and you shook it.

there wasn't any spark or whatsoever that you felt with daryl when you held his hands when there were times you were scared, and he let you.

"you wanna get out of here? you know for fresh air, it's too stuffy here." he chuckled and you nodded quickly, you felt suffocated inside deanna's home.

he held your wrist softly as he guided you out of the house, you both arrived at the porch as fresh air quickly surrounded you.

"i hate parties, but at least it's a reminder of what the world used to be, right?" you asked him as you walked with him at the sidewalk, side by side.

"yeah, i arrived here three months ago. and they really don't know what they're doing out there." he agreed.

"a–are you like looking past friendship?" you whispered at him shyly, because you weren't. you were still moving on from daryl and you didn't want to use him.

he shakes his head and laughed. "god, no. i'm gay, but it's not obvious as i'm hiding it from deanna." he said.

"you don't have to hide it, no one will hate you for who you are. it's a new world." you assured him, placing a hand on his biceps.

"thankfully you don't want to, because i'm still hung up on a boy i liked." you chuckled bitterly.

"he's a dick if he doesn't see who you are, i've just been with you for like five minutes and i can see how sweet you are in an instant, it's his fault for not seeing it." he spoke.

"but seriously, you don't have to hide... look at eric and aaron for example." you told him, you leaned in to hug him.

someone cleared their throat and you quickly turned your head to the side in nervousness.

"d-daryl." you said and quickly dropped your hands to the side, he took long strides toward you and grabbed your wrists tightly and dragged you with him.

"w–wait! i'm sorry, lance!" you shouted at the man who chuckled and waved his hands.

he dragged you into rick's house and into his basement room.

"w–what's wrong with you?!" you shout at him in confusion, along with frustration.

"what's wrong with m'? what's wrong with ye'?!" he asked as he let go of you.

"why are you turning the question? i was having a conversation and you dragged me away!" you scolded him.

"you shouldn't be talking to some guy! you trust too easy!" he taught you, something you knew already.

"he's a nice guy." you spoke softer, mistaking his intentions of dragging you away, you thought that he was just worried about you.

"yer' mine, got it? don't care if he's nice." he suddenly mumbled lowly.

"w-what?" you asked, confused. how can he just claim you like that?! you can feel your heart beating so fast it might get out of its cage.

he didn't speak and kissed you roughly, you froze and felt sparks flew to you, you can feel the heat in you.

you gasped and opened your mouth to protest but he used that to enter his tongue in your mouth.

he pulled away, "dar—" you tried to speak but he kissed you again, shutting you up.

you can't help but moan when he squeezed your breast, arching your back, and your head back.

"ahm– da–daryl..." you groaned as he began attacking your neck, your one hand was placed on the bed to support your weight as the other was on his hair.

your grip tightened on his hair as he sucked on your sweet spot making him groan.

"need you, sweetheart." daryl said as he pulled away, you looked into his eyes and saw it full of desire and love.

you nodded and tried to pull off your shirt, when you can't do it, out of nervousness, daryl helped you.

he took in the sight of you in a pink lace bra as he bit his lips, making you squirm and feel even more hot, if that was possible.

he suddenly attacked the top of your breasts as his hands went around you, unclipping your bra and taking it off of you.

"fuck, baby. this just for m'?" he asked and you nodded as you bit your lip, he took one in his hands while he placed another in his mouth.

"daryl..." you moaned as he massaged the other and sucked on the other one.

your hands found their way in your jeans, but due to its rough fabric you can't get friction.

you unclipped your jeans and tugged on them, to pull them down, daryl's other hand helping you as he guided your back to the mattress.

he pulled away from your breasts making you whine, "needy, huh?" he asked as he slipped the jeans of your feet.

he almost wants to take a shot of your body, nearly naked and out of breath, hair out of place.

he started unbuttoning his shirt as she sat up and helped him, almost needy to take the shirt off of him.

he let you do the work and after it was all unbuttoned, you stood up to slip it off his torso.

he sat on the bed as you stayed standing, he tugged on his belt and gestured it to you.

you tilted your head in confusion, before he pointed to his noticeable large bulge, making you nod in embarrassment.

you kneeled in front of him, between his legs as you looked up at him, he nodded at you, encouraging you.

you slowly took off his belt and unbuttoned his jeans, pulling down the zipper as you tugged on it, he raised his hips as you pulled it down, along with his underwear.

your mouth parted in shock as you gulped, looking at him, he looked right back at you with lust.

"h-how's that gonna fit? i-it's so big..." you shyly said as you let your gaze drift down to his cock again.

it stood proudly, the tip touching his stomach, the veins in it noticeable, you also noted of his angry red tip.

"it will fit, you will figure it out, baby girl... daddy will take care of you later, okay?" he spoke in a gentle voice, making you nod.

you were determined to fit him on your mouth and cunt, even if it will squeeze him tightly.

you kitten licked his tip, almost looking like it was to taste the pre-cum dripping down.

you felt foreign to the salty flavor but licked him again making him groan in pleasure.

if he was making that reaction it might feel good for him, and you wanted to make him feel good tonight.

you entered the tip of his angry cock in your mouth, slowly. you took more of him until he reached the back of your throat, and it was hardly half of him.

you placed your hand on his thigh and the other on his stomach, pressing it down.

you raised him out of your mouth then took him again, you looked up at him through your eyelashes as he continued moaning in pleasure. it makes you wet as his voice and moans vibrate.

you moved your mouth up and down faster, each hitting the back of your throat each time making you gag and teary.

he held a good amount of your hair and helped your head in and out of his cock.

"that's it, sweetheart..." he moaned as he moved your head faster, through your hair.

"augh– augh." you gagged again as his tip hit the back of your throat hardly.

"fuck, baby girl... yer' mouth 's so fucking warm, daddy might fuck this mouth f' day to night..." he cursed as he moaned, nearing his release.

you were so turned on by his moans and the things he was saying to you that you pressed your hands harder where they are.

"fuck, baby... 'm near... jus' keep goin'..." he encouraged you, you removed your hands off him.

you placed your hands on the remainder of his cock that your mouth can't take and synchronized it to the rhythm of your mouth.

he was so long and thick that even though it was your mouth and two hands wrapped around him there was still a part uncovered.

how does he hide this monstrous cock in his jeans? it was so long and thick you know it might not even fit you.

he moaned non-stop and then you felt his cum rushing down your throat.

he came in your mouth as he tried to catch his breath, you waited for his cum to stop releasing then pulled him out of your mouth, swallowing his semen.

you wiped the liquid that went down your chin, he looked like he was so proud of you and that made you so happy.

his thumb found its way in your lips, "show m', baby. ye' took it all, hm?"

you nodded eagerly, you opened your mouth and held your tongue out as he examined your mouth.

he nodded proudly and kissed your forehead. "good girl, daddy's proud of you..." he praised you, you whimpered at his words, making him smile.

"i-i need you in me, daddy..." you pleaded with him as if your life depended on it.

"so eager fer m', huh?" he laughed, and you nodded desperately. you couldn't stand the aching heat in your core anymore.

"p–please..." you whispered as you reached out for his cock, he stepped back with a smile making you whine.

"don't be a brat, baby girl... daddy will give it to ya. just wait, 'lright?" he whispered in your ear, you nodded.

"okay..." you plastered on a smile at him as he grabbed you by the waist, grabbing you by the waist and pushing you to the bed, gently.

"you ready fer daddy, baby?" he asked you as he teasingly rubbed his tip at your aching core, covered in your cotton panties.

"s–so ready, daddy..." you moaned at the sensation of something making contact with your clit.

it was a sight to see, your cotton underwear soaked wet with your slick.

his fingers found their way on the hem of your underwear, he slowly took it off, groaning as he saw your wet cunt.

it was pinkish, and puffy and very visibly wet. you felt shy and tried to close your thighs but he held out his hands to stop them.

"nuh–uh, baby girl... daddy wants to see his baby's pussy, okay?" he talked to you, softly.

"yes, daddy." you moaned and tried to raise your hips to feel his tips, but his hands moved your waist down, stopping you.

"daddy's goin' in, baby..." he said.

you felt his tip making contact with your aching core, you hissed in pain as he slowly entered.

"ye okay, sweetheart?" he asked as he pushed another inch into you, he waited for you to respond.

"y-yes, dare... keep going, i–i'm fine." you closed your eyes in the hope of making the pain disappear.

"fuck, baby girl. you're so tight around me..." he also hissed but in pleasure.

he pushed an inch every other minute as he patiently waited for you to adjust to his length.

he furrowed his eyebrows in worry at you as he saw a tear slipped down your cheeks.

"we don't have to do this, sweetheart..." he assured you as he went to pull back but you held his wrist and shook your head as a no.

"i-it's okay..." you nodded at him, and he sighed before kissing you and asking you to take deep breaths.

"jus' focus on me, darling..." he told you and you nodded, you didn't know it would feel this painful.

he pushed the rest of him into you, making you gasp in pain. he did it at one swift move.

you can feel yourself stretched more than ever, you can feel yourself around him, you felt so full.

almost complete, like he was the only one who was supposed to be inside of you.

like his monstrous cock was made for you, and you only. you closed your eyes as you took deep breaths.

"w–why did you do that?!" you hissed at him as you hit his biceps.

he looked guilty and sorry, "sorry, baby... it's better this way, one instant pain, get it?" he kissed your tears and held your chins in his hand.

you nodded in understanding, and he waited for you to adjust to him completely.

you nodded at him as a signal to start moving, he grinned and kissed your forehead.

he pulled out slowly before going back in, then out then in again. you felt a slight pain but it disappeared as he thrusted in again.

the pure pain changed into a mixture of pure pleasure, you held onto his shoulders and biceps, burrying your face into his neck as you moaned.

"daryl... oh goodness!" you whimpered as he thrust into you faster when he noticed you felt pleasure instead of pain.

"fuck, baby... you feel s'good around m'cock... yer' cunt was made fer me." he groaned as if reading your mind just moments ago.

you wrapped your legs around his waist to bury his cock deeper into you.

every time he thrust his tip hit your g-spot making you moan again and again, you don't even know if you will still be able to speak tomorrow.

he kissed your neck as your hands tugged on his hair and gripped his biceps tightly.

"moan fer daddy, baby." he whispered against your neck making you shiver.

"d–daddy... faster!" you moaned and held onto him tightly, you begged him to go faster and he happily obliged.

"you want daddy to fuck a baby into ya? so you can't talk to any other guy? huh?" he roughly asked.

you nodded, "p–please daddy..." you begged him as he grinned.

"please what?" he teased as he slowed his pace making you whine.

"please, daddy. fill your babies in me..." you said out of pure pleasure and desire to come.

"i will, sweetheart... i will make you carry daddy's babies." he roughly talked to you.

"i-i'm nearing!" you moaned at his ear again and again as he felt you clench around him.

you closed your eyes in pleasure as it felt heavenly... you felt so good.

"not yet, baby, not until daddy says so. you don't want to upset daddy, right?" he asked you.

you shook your head with a whimper, "n–no, daddy... i'm sorry." you apologized.

"good girl." he praised you making you clench your walls around him tighter than ever.

all he felt was pure bliss, he can hardly move in your tightness against him, and it felt so good.

"please, daddy. let me come..." you moaned as you kissed him, he moved his lips into you roughly, his beard tickling you.

"wait for daddy, i'm almost near..." he threw back, you nodded and bit your lip, you can't wait anymore.

you need to come now, but you didn't want to upset him so you held yourself from cumming.

he thrusted faster, obviously nearing too. the sounds of skin slapping together along with moans and grunts was all the room was filled with.

his balls hit your ass every time he thrust and that's where you always knew he was deep into you, he always hit into your g-spot.

"cum with daddy, baby." he growled into your ear, his movements going fast.

you let out a loud pornographic moan as you came, panting as he thrust into you.

he slowed and you can feel the liquid inside you, his cum to be precise. he came inside you.

he pulled out slowly and dropped beside you, you both were breathless, trying to catch your breaths.

"t–that was my first time, thank you..." you shyly thanked him as it felt good, you'd rather it be him than anyone else.

"really, sweetheart? yer a virgin?" he teased making you shyly nod, he stood up from the bed and went to another room then came out with a white towel.

he pressed the towel into your cunt softly as he wiped your cum and his cum that was leaking out.

"you were so good fer daddy, baby. 'm proud." he admitted and patted your head as he placed the towel away, dressing you into another clean shirt of him and put you on your underwear, he also wore his underwear and got under the covers.

also covering you with it, you laid your head against his head.

you looked up at him and pressed a kiss on his jaw as you closed your eyes.

"sleep tight, baby." he ran his fingers through your wavy blonde hair as he pressed a kiss onto your head.

he never have felt so lucky before until now, he finally had you, and he was your first time.

he was for sure jealous earlier but the best thing ever came after it.

you and him, made love, fucked, had sex, or whatever you called it.

for him it was love, he had developed feelings for you back at the prison, the first time your group found the prison.

but as a dixon he always rejected it, pushing it deep down him and not acknowledging it.

but seeing you with that man and you angry at him, fueled something into him and it lead to this.

the only one great thing he could ask for besides safety, he was happy he found you through this world.

he loves you and adores you.

[h0rnyauth0r]

ghost wants to help teach you how to snipe! (but it turns into… something else)

i know i haven't posted in forever but i'm doing so much better so we'll see what happens <3

ALSO 1K??????? THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH AHHH

word count: 2.2k

tws: choking, unprotected sex, reader with vagina, pussy eating, cum eating, fingering, rough sex, cumming inside

you hate how cold it is on the rooftops, slow gusts of winds chilling your bones completely. you would normally complain, but with ghost being right next to you, you truly can’t. his large body blocks the majority of what should be hitting you, and you can’t help but feel giddy getting to spend time with him alone.

he gives off heat, thick layers of clothing doing nothing to stop the way his gloved fingers and muscular arms touch into you as you try adjusting the rifle appropriately. his eyes are looking you over to make sure your positioning is right; it’s not.

“you need to move some.” his voice is barely above a whisper, sending shivers down your spine as you turn your head slightly and only then realize just how close you are to him.

you gulp and nod your head, heat bubbling up in your tummy as you try to adjust yourself and the rifle once more. you can feel his eyes on your every part, silently judging how you just seemingly can’t do this right.

the darkness of the night is all that surrounds you, rifle aiming at some lit up targets prepared on base for you to use. you opt to fire with the newly adjusted position, but it’s no use.

the bullet whizzes into the very edge of the target, just scraping it. ghost sighs frustratedly, deciding to move closer to you so he can help (force) you into the right aiming position. you don’t expect his arms to wrap around you the way they do, causing you to jump a little as you’re moved around with ease.

once he stops, he’s speaking up. “try now.”

you nod, aiming down the sight and pulling the trigger. excitement courses through your veins when you notice the bullet hit the center of the target, a smile forming on your face.

“nice! did you see that?” you say, turning your head to him and immediately becoming hyper-aware of his face only inches away from your own. he nods, eyes staring down at you in a way that makes you feel a lot less cold than before.

it’s the sultry look that he always has that makes you break eye contact quickly, clearing your throat as you turn away from him and decide to take another shot.

following his prior movements of your body, you try once more to shoot and that’s when your confidence skyrockets. once again, a direct hit.

“yes!” you say happily, grinning and glancing over to the man. he nods at your work, opting to put a hand up for a high-five as opposed to using his words for the moment.

your eyebrows raise at such a random gesture, slapping his gloved hand gently and then move the gun over to the side of you. “did you want to practice at all?” you ask, swallowing harshly once you’re looking into his eyes again.

his eye contact remains so sharp in a way that sends spikes of heat in between your thighs, head shaking as he looks between your faltering smile and your bright eyes.

“i think we both know i don’t need it.”

you nod knowingly, almost feeling embarrassed. obviously he wouldn’t want to practice, he’s the best sniper on the base. you feel stupid for even asking, eyes wandering to the edge of the rooftop and looking around at the night sky.

the lights directly above the two of you make the view less visible, but it’s still beautiful nonetheless. you can’t help but wish you were able to stay out with ghost, that maybe this would be a date instead of him doing his job. 

you decide to move around some to prepare to get up. “well, i suppose i should get going. i don’t want to take up anymore of your time.” you mumble.

as you move to get up, his hand stops you with a strength that has you wondering just what other parts of you he could move around so easily. you gasp out, looking to your side at him.

“stay.”

his eyes look pleading, emotions held in them that have you nearly melting into his touch. you immediately falter, getting back into the same prone position you were in before.

you don’t know what to say, so you say nothing. it’s like that for a while, silence between the two of you and the weight of unspoken words creating tension. you choose to take a glance at him, almost forgetting to breathe when you see the way he’s staring at you.

“it’s nice out tonight.” you’re embarrassed saying this, knowing it’s completely random to even mention how the weather is given the current circumstances.

he nods along though, which comforts you in some way. “better than normal.”

you sigh, shutting your eyes tightly. “why did you want me to stay out here?” you don’t want to pry, but it’s needed now. with the tension in the air and the crickets chirping away, your mind is left wandering.

one of his hands gently touch you, eyes pulling open from the pressure of his hand guiding you toward him. your body leans against him, his other hand snaking around your waist. you wait patiently for his words, but nothing is said.

instead, he’s adjusting your bodies so that you’re on top of his body, thighs on either side of his hips as you look down at him. the movement happened so quickly that you can’t think properly for a moment, just staring at him blankly.

your insides feel like they’re on fire from pure lust, face growing hotter from the feeling of a bulge pressing against your clothed pussy. you want to kiss him so badly right now, eyes desperately looking between his eyes and where his lips would be underneath his mask.

“please…” you whisper breathlessly, eyes fixated on that one spot. you unconsciously grind your hips against him, feeling his hands shoot to your hips where they dig in and he pushes up into you.

“fuck it.” he mumbles, hand flying up and pushing the mask up just enough so his lips are showing. you immediately lean down and press into his lips roughly, kissing him with every bit of passion you can muster.

your lips move against each other heatedly, one of his hands grabbing onto your neck to push you in more. you let out a whine when he starts grinding up into you more, the pressure absolutely soaking your panties and probably your pants, too. 

the stimulation is just enough to have you gasping his name into his lips desperately, teeth clashing and wet sounds echoing in empty outside air. the hand on your hip is rubbing circles into it, making your body twitch as you push your hips down harder and harder.

he abruptly ends the kiss between the two of you, hands hurriedly pulling your jacket off before he hesitates to take off any more of your clothing. “will you get too cold?” he asks.

you nod, “it’d be best to leave my shirt on.” you mumble, trying your hardest to catch your breath. but he kisses you again, this time fumbling with your belt and then the button of your pants.

you stand up and quickly pull them off with your underwear in a rush, settling back down on him with your bare pussy resting against him. he reaches down and lightly presses his thumb against your clit, making you whimper out.

you kiss him again while he plays with your clit, eventually sliding down your slit and playing with your hole. his finger stretches you out and your teeth accidentally bite down on his lip as you gasp.

a second one pushes in as your lips leave his again, eyes looking down to where his fingers are thrusting into you and biting your bottom lip. your hips grind down and push him in deeper, eyes rolling back as you come closer and closer to your orgasm.

he slides his fingers back out though, looking you in the eyes as he slips them into his mouth and sucks gently. the sight has you moaning pathetically, a hand reaching down to palm his dick in his pants.

he grunts and pushes your hand away, quickly undoing his pants and pulling them down enough to free his cock. “are you sure you want this?” he asks.

you nod, hand reaching out and jerking his cock several times before lining it up and pushing just the tip in. you slowly sink down onto it, eyes clamping shut from the size and just how good he feels inside of you.

“fuck…” he groans softly when you clench around him, and you almost cum just from how sexy he looks. eyes glazed over, lips still revealed and puffy, and fists clenched roughly at his sides. 

you start to move against him, grinding up and down on his cock as you reach out and grab onto his hands. he uses this to his advantage, pulling your body forward just a little as his hips start thrusting up into you quickly.

your mouth falls open, a mix between a gasp and a whine coming out of your mouth. “more…” you cry out, eyes widening when he pulls out of you. his body is moving yours around, your ass in the air as he adjusts himself to be behind you.

he slowly pushes himself into you from behind, fingernails digging into your ass as he bottoms out. the angle is much better than before, his hips slapping into your ass as he begins thrusting feverishly. 

“so tight and pretty. and all mine.” he growls out, hand reaching around and gripping onto your throat as he fucks into you harder.

you can barely keep your eyes open, but you do when he leans your head back to look at your face while he thrusts. you can feel the pressure building up in you, a steady orgasm bubbling up from the pressure of his dick hitting every little spot that you know gets you going.

he squeezes your throat and you wheeze out, eyes rolling back and clit throbbing hard from the sensation. you can’t help but cry out loudly, even more so when his other hand moves from your ass to your clit to rub circles into it.

your whole body shakes as his movements quicken, his fingers pushing down on your little button as your orgasm hits you hard. you feel your thighs shake and you’re sputtering out incoherent words, a mix between his name and different curse words.

“that’s a good girl. so good for me.” he whispers in your ear, tears streaming down your face from the overstimulation and a content noise coming out from his praise.

he doesn’t stop after you come down from your high, hips never faltering but fingers leaving your clit after you try to squirm away from them. his hand remains tight around your throat, occasionally squeezing.

it’s not long after when you notice his hips sputtering and becoming more and more sloppy in movements, and eventually you can feel his cum fill you deeply. it’s leaking down your thighs, mixed with your own release and sweat as he finally pulls out.

you sigh out, exhausted but entirely satisfied. “that was amazing.”

he pushes your back into the ground, “i’m not finished with you yet.” his words are stern, and you let out a squeak when you feel his breath against your thighs.

he licks up your pussy, lips finding your clit and beginning to suck hard. you cry out, a hand slapping over your mouth to calm yourself as his tongue begins completely violating you.

his tongue runs along your clit in circles before moving back to your stretched entrance, sliding in and out of your hole before moving to your clit once more.

your orgasm approaches quicker since you’ve already cum once, a loud moan escaping your lips as you release against his tongue. he coaxes you through your orgasm, humming softly once he pulls back.

“you taste as good as you look.” he says shamelessly, and you don’t respond. your whole body is shaking beyond belief and you don’t think you can move anymore without falling over.

“i can’t move.” you say quietly, and he’s looking at you smugly as he pulls his mask back over the bottom half of his face. 

he decides to help you put your clothes back on, hands gently taking care of everything and wiping your wet thighs down with a towel. “i can carry you.” he says, shrugging.

you shake your head quickly, “no! we’re not going to do that. it’d be so obvious we just fucked out here.” you disagree, arms crossing as you sit down criss cross on the floor.

he leans down to your ear, “you think they don’t already know, love? you were screaming my name. everyone here knows.” his voice is low and makes you shiver, your face going hot as you realize just how right he is.

needless to say, ghost carries to your room with knowing eyes glaring at the two of you the whole way there. but you really can’t care, knowing that this won’t be the last time it happens anyways.

-

taglist: @wwwurmomdotcom @kovieky @chibijusstuff

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[otakubimbo]

I see your doing a prompt listttttt

can we get a (maybe fluffy, idk) smutty fic

with prompt 70.

a aizawa x reader fic

❤️❤️

lol hi, i know it's been ages but thank you for the ask! I hope you like it. The writers in my head have went on strike T-T

Jealousy, Jealousy

aizawa x f! reader

Aizawa never thought of himself as a jealous man, well that was until it came to you it seems.

Content: plot w/porn, fingering, unprotected sex, misunderstandings, aizawa bad at communication and feelings, drinking, voyeurism, Aizawa being jealous, big simping, avoiding feelings, pinning

for my 200 followers prompt list, i'm still taking them since i went on a lil hiatus, my bad, also if you like it please leave a comment it fuels me

Masterlist

“I don’t want you…. I need you”

The only thing Aizawa could focus on was the sound of your laughter. He was supposed to be focusing on whatever Principal Nezu was saying during this teacher's meeting. You’re giggling at something Sniper had said to you. You were trying to keep your voice down, but you couldn’t help yourself whatever Sniper had said had you in a fit of giggles, and that had Aizawas blood getting warm.

He didn’t think of himself as a jealous man, if anything his demeanor could be described as nonchalant, and yet, here he was, irritated at hearing your laugh with another man and not being the cause of that laughter. His tired eyes stared at the two of you from across the room as present Mic tried to get his attention.

“Earth to Shota!” Mic says almost screaming into his ear, “Stare any harder and your quirk will activate on its own”

“What?” an annoyed scowl crossed Aizawa’s face as he turned towards his friend.

“You’re glaring at her.” Mic points at the quietest frequency he can muster, not quiet at all. A few heads shoot over to the noise, but most ignore as it’s a usual occurrence from Mic. Aizawa huffs with a groan proceeding, turning away from your direction, unable to get the look on your face and the sound of your giggles out of his head.

The rest of the meeting goes through one ear and out the other, the only focus that Aizawa could keep was on your face. You started paying attention to the meeting, done with whatever you and sniper were speaking about. Once the meeting concluded, most of the teachers decided to go out for drinks and dinner. Aizawa wasn’t even considering going until he heard you speak up.

“Oh my gosh, yes. I need a drink after this long week” The excitement in your voice making his head turn and your eyes met his almost immediately as if you were looking for him, “you’re coming right?”

Aizawa tries his hardest not to give that you were making butterflies bloom in his stomach and just gives a curt nod. The feeling in his chest was blooming as the group walked towards the nearest restaurant, that was until he saw the way you looped your arm around Snipers and you were giggling again at whatever he was saying to you. Another scowl was making an appearance of Aizawas face as he watched the scene before him, Mic caught what was going on, throwing a supportive arm over Aizawas shoulder and he didn’t shrug it off surprisingly.

“Just talk to her, man” Mic does his best to whisper towards his friend. Aizawa just stays silent as they continue to walk forward, not even sparing his friend a sideways glance.

You hadn’t been at UA long but from the first interaction with Aizawa, he knew there was something different about you. The way you softly smiled at him as you introduced yourself had his words caught in his throat. It was the first time in a long time that the man actually felt self conscious about his appearance, thinking how disheveled he must look to you. But you didn’t seem to cast any judgment on him, it wasn’t like he was known for his style anyways. Your graze was soft yet curious as if you were picking him apart to see inside of him, it wasn’t judgmental it was calculated curiosity. Ever since then sometimes he would catch you just glancing at him as if you knew something he didn’t, and when he caught your eye, you would just smile that smile of yours and go back to whatever you were doing. You mesmerized him.

It didn’t help that you were absolutely gorgeous, his eyes always drawn to you, but you were also kind, kind in a way that seemed so effortless for you. It wasn’t even that you went out of your way to be kind, you just were. On the days that he was at his most exhausted, you always appeared out of no where with coffee for him. When the stress of his students was getting to him, you always had a funny story to tell him that got his mind from it even if it was for a moment. It was as if you always knew what he needed.

And here you were, sitting across from him giggling at something Sniper says as you take shots of sake together. Now Aizawa barely drank, but tonight as tight as his jaw was clenching, he was going to need to do anything to keep his cool. The alcohol taking his mind other places then you across the table. He was doing a decent job at keep the fire without him down, that was until your head landed on Sniper’s shoulder face flushed from the alcohol and the way you looked up at the other man set gasoline on that fire. How could you just do that so casually in front of him? Did you not feel the same way? Did you not feel his gaze always driving to you? Abruptly and uncharacteristically Aizawa quickly stood up and just walked outside, everyone looking at each other in the confusion at his quick departure.

Your brows furrowed in concern as you watched him leave, you could tell he was pissed but about what you had no clue but you were worried. Quickly, you excused yourself from the table following him. He was waking faster than you had ever seen him go, making you jog after him trying to call his name, but he was either ignoring you or couldn’t hear you. Eventually you caught up with him outside in the side alley of the restaurant, you could tell as you approached that he was fuming. But he looked like a frantic kitten, almost lost.

“Aizawa?” Your voice soft and careful as you approached him. “Are you okay?” Your question barely audible as you reach out to him. He turns to glare at you, gaze so sharp it makes you take a step back, but he says nothing. The alcohol making his eyes redder, deeper.

“What happened back there?”

The question hung in the air for a moment before Aizawa scoffed. There was no way you didn’t know what the problem was, but you didn’t know, your concerned look turned into one of confusion. Aizawa rakes his hands aggressively through his before his tired eyes fall back onto yours. He knew his behavior seemed strange, but he had no clue what to do at this point. He was a grown man for fucks state, the stoic, nonchalant pro hero Erasure Head, yet here he was acting like a jealous child over a woman who wasn’t even his. The drinks flowing through his system weren’t making his thoughts any more logical. As he looks at you, he lets out an exasperated sigh, he couldn’t imagine how stupid he probably looked.

“You can just tell me what’s bothering you, you know I won’t judge. You know that.”  You say while taking a cautious step forward, he looked like a frightening kitten.

Aizawa let out another sigh. There you and your kind heart go again, making him docile, making him fall for you. He couldn’t take it anymore, the liquid courage giving him the push to finally do what’s been on his mind since the first moment he met you. Without speaking, he starts walking towards you getting closer and closer forcing you back until your back presses against the alley wall.

“Aizawa” you breath out his name as his arms cage you as you look at him wide eyed. He was close, so close.

“I don’t think I can take it anymore” his voice barely above a whisper, strained biting his lip as if to hold himself back. His eyes were closed as he was gripping the wall beside your head. You can smell the sake on his breath, as he leans closer into you hovering right over your mouth.

“Can’t take what?” Your voice coming out just as quietly.

 Aizawa opens his eyes looking straight into yours, they were as beautiful as ever, a bit glossy from the previous drinks and as always curious as always seemingly looking through him. He doesn’t blink as he looks into your eyes searching for something, waiting for you, waiting on you to push him away, waiting for you to tell him no. But then nothing came, you were just looking back at him with that face of yours and now he couldn’t stop himself. f Slowly, still giving you the chance to push him away, he leans his face closer to yours capturing your lips with his own. Your body not even giving your mind time to process what’s happening as you automatically lean into him kissing him back. The kiss is slow, steady, strong but filled with so much passion, just like Aizawa.

You’re the first one to take it up a notch, grabbing onto his shirt to pull him closer, opening your mouth for him to explore. At this, he stopped holding himself back letting his built-up frustration get the best of him as he kisses you more sloppily grabbing the back of your head with one hand and your ass with the other.  You gasp at the action surprised at the sudden change from him, giving Aizawa the opportunity to bite on your lower lip which illicit a sharp hiss from you. Your hands move to wrap around his neck as he resumes kissing you fiercely. It was aggressive, it was sloppy, it was everything that he dreamed about, his lips molding into yours, the feeling of your tongue wrestling with his.

As everything started to get more passionate the hand, he was using to hold your hair goes down to your ass to lift you up for him, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist as he presses you into the wall. His lips trailing from your mouth to your chin and then down to your neck biting and sucking as you try to keep down your moans as whines from his ministrations on your neck as he hips grind into yours. There’s a hitch in your breath as he bites down hard, grinding even harder into you making you clench around nothing.

“Fuck Shota” you moan as you can feel one of his hands make its way towards your soaked panties. Oh, the sound of his given name on your lips. He wanted to hear it more.

“You’re already so wet for me” he says against your lips, a cocky smirk gracing his face as he makes his way to the other side of your neck. As his digits move your panties to the side, sliding up and down your slit just grazing your yearning clit while you thank whatever divine being told you to wear a skirt today. You moan his name again as you feel his thumb rub long circles around your clit, pressing your hips more into his hand as you grab his hair causing him to bite down on your neck with a soft groan.

“Shota please” you beg, needing more from him. His mouth finds yours again as he inserts two fingers inside you, giving you what you asked for. He curled his fingers inside you as his thumb rubbed tighter circles on your clit. At this point you were dripping down his hand, your feet digging into his back as he swallowed your moans.  He could feel you getting tighter around his fingers, his mouth left yours and went to your ear.

“Yes, just like that. You want to cum for me? Are you gonna cum for me?”  He speaks straight into your ear, his ministrations getting more aggressive as you nod senselessly feeling your peak quickly nearing.

“Yes Shota I’m gonna cum for you, I’m gonna cum for you” you pant as you lose yourself in the pleasure he’s giving you.

A grown escapes his mouth at the sound of your voice, “fuck I love the way you say my name.” He nibbles at your ear, “go ahead and cum for me”

And you do, you cum hard, gushing all over his hand eyes closed, head thrown back as your chest quickly rises and falls. To Aizawa, he doesn’t think he’s seen anything sexier.  As you’re coming down for your peak, Aizawas lips find yours again, kissing you slow and longingly his fingers sliding gently out of you to grip back on your ass, pressing himself into you. He can feel all your residual wetness seeping into his pants. Fuck he wanted you so badly.

You pull back from him, your eyes slowly opening as you look at him with heavy breaths. The look he was giving you was dangerous; he was no longer a kitten but a tiger that was starved. It overwhelmed you as you turn your head and gaze away from him which reminded you that he just finger fucked you in an alley way. Your hands go to push on his chest as his mouth latches on your neck again.

“Wait Aizawa, wait” you say pushing with the little strength you have after your orgasm, your breath coming out heavy and strained. He doesn’t pull away, but his lips still against your neck. “We can’t do this here, we’re gonna get caught, someone’s gonna see or hear us”

He chuckles smugly into your neck at your words, still not moving away placing gentle kisses up and down it as your breath hitched, “you weren’t saying that when I was knuckles deep into you, and..” he starts as he nips at your neck “what happened to calling me Shota? My name sounds so much prettier coming out of your mouth.”  Aizawa didn’t know if he was drunk off the sake he drank previously or if it was just you.

You take in his words as he grinds, his hard dick into your already sensitive core while his hands roam over your body.  A small whimper coming out of your mouth as he licks a long stripe against your neck.

“Plus I don’t care, I want you right here and right now.” He huffs as he presses his body into yours, taking one of his hands to turn your face back to him. The way you looked right now, flushed, breathing heavily, pupils blown out from him, for him. It ignited something even more depraved in him as he shakes his head aggressively, “No no no, I don’t want… I need you.”

The look in his eyes tells you he means every word, he needs you right there, right now, no matter who could walk past and something about that makes you even wetter. Another chuckle leaves his lips as he can feel you wetting him even more. Oh, you were a nasty little thing, you were going to drive him crazy.

“And you need me to, you need me to fuck you here in this back alley.” A cocky grin plastered on his face as he frees himself from his pants, taking his tip to rub on your clit. You breathe out shakily nodding your head as you try to push him in. He places himself right at your entrance, not yet pushing himself in as he feels you trying to sink down on him.

“Tell me you need me to” he says as he smears more of your juices on his dick. A moan escapes your mouth as your overstimulated core is stroked.

“Shota please”

“No, I want to hear you say it. Say you need me” he pulls back from you slightly, tip again right at your entrance, he can feel your cunt trying to suck him in. His mouth going back to your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. “Say it”

“I need you; Shota I need you right here and right now in this back alley” you whine and beg, causing him to smirk feeling the way his lips turn up on your ear.

“Good girl” Aizawa whispers before pushing himself in, slowly, agonizingly slowly. The stretch of him burned, making your nails dig into his back.

“Fuck” you both say in unison as he bottoms out, you’re already clenching around him. Tight, you were oh so tight. Your pussy clenching so tightly around him that for a moment he didn’t even think he could breathe. Oh and it felt so good, too good, you really were going to make him crazy.

“Relax, I got you” his voice strained holding himself back from cumming just from entering you. Your body relaxes at his command, grip less tight on him. Such a good girl you were, such a good girl for him. With the slight relief he starts moving into you, feeling the way your pussy tries to pull him back in every time he drags himself back. It was an intoxicating feeling, his eyes shut as he slowly moves in and out of you, quietly moan your name. Each drag on his hip making you feel more and more crazed as your pleasure climbs towards it peak again.  Your high feeling just out of reach with how slowly he was moving in and out of you. You needed to feel more of him, needed him harder, needed him faster.

“Please fuck me Shota,” you whine as you try to take him deeper into you, almost hitting the spot that would drive you wild “fuck me harder, fuck me faster”

He chuckled into your arm, stilling his movements gaining another whine out of you in frustration, “For someone who claimed they were so worried about getting caught, your actions surely prove different.”

You attempt to roll your hips into him, but he just presses his hips harder into you forcing your back against the wall, unable to move. “Please” you breath out, clenching and unclenching around his length.  “I told you I didn’t care; I told you I needed you. Please. I need you to fuck me Shota, please fuck me Shota”

Oh, how he loved hearing you beg. It made him even harder inside of you, groaning into your neck as he calms himself down from cuming just from your words alone. Your nails did into his back, and you breathe out another please, another beg. At that, something snaps in him he grabs the bottom of your thighs, pulling them up so that your legs are now on his shoulder pulling you off of the wall. You gasp at the sudden movement, the feat of strength should have been expected from him but it didn’t stop it from being any less hot involuntarily clenching around him, wetting him even more. His strong hands find a tight grip onto your waist lifting you up and slamming you back down on his did, his hips moving in tandem with his upper body movements to fuck into you deeper, harder, faster.

It was exactly what you wanted but all to much at the same time. He was moving you as you weighed nothing to him, while all you could do is moan out his name as he fucks you like a feral beast, the grip you had on his shoulders almost painful to him making him go even harder. The sound of your pussy was almost as loud as your moans.

“You have to be quiet, baby or we really are gonna get caught.” He says not stopping his assault that was causing your volume. Your pussy had a mind of its own, clenching  harder around him at the thought of someone seeing the way he was treating your body. Aizawa didn’t think he could be any more turned on but you keep doing it to him. He slams your back into the wall, using his hand as a cushion behind your head as he pulls it towards him in a searing kiss. As he pulls away he smirks at you, his hips not stopping their movements, “ Oh you want to get caught don’t you? You want everyone to see how much nasty you are, how you’re letting me fuck you like a slut in this dirty alley way?”

You shake your head, but your body betrays you as you clench again on his dick, getting closer and closer to your peak. Your juices were spilling out around his dick, soaking his pants. “But baby I can feel it, you’re drenched. I never thought you would be so nasty, someone who looked so innocent, someone so beautiful would have such a filthy pussy. Now be a good girl for me and have this filthy pussy cum on my dick.”

As filthy as your pussy was for him, his mouth was even dirtier for you. He started pounding you into in exactly the right spot, eliciting a loud moan from you, making your eyes roll back his mouth finding your neck and biting down to silence you. 

“You’re taking my dick so well. Fuck, I’m so deep in you. You feel me right? You feel how deep I am in you?” He asks and you just nod your head no words being able to form in your mouth. One of his hands went down to rub your clit, feeling you clench harder at his movements wetting the two of you more and more that it was dripping on the ground. Before you could tip over the edge, he pulls his hand back slowing  his movements down again. You try not to whine so loudly but you couldn’t help it, the burn and strain in your legs returning as you no longer feel the euphoria that he was giving you. A pout forms on your face as you watch Aizawa raising his hand covered in you as he slowly grinds his hips into you, straining your legs further.

“Let’s see how you taste.” He says before licking one of his fingers, closing his eyes as if he was savoring the flavor of you. “Delicious” was the last thing he says before he shoves his slick covered fingers into your mouth down your throat making you gag. You start sucking on his fingers the best that you could while he resumes the harsh pace that he was at.  You looked so sexy to him sucking and choking on his fingers, he could only imagine how you would look with his dick in your mouth but now is not the time for that, not here.

But it did drive him crazier, fucking his fingers into your mouth as his other hand presses onto your stomach as his thumb rubs fiercely on your click. It was all too much for you, as if you could feel him everywhere all at once, so overpowering that you didn’t even have time to register that you were cumming and hard, the grip of your cunt on his dick was so tight that he could barely move. His movements didn’t stop and now you were squirting on him, soaking his shirt and pants. The scene before Aizawa was so vulgar, so sexy, you just came on his dick in a dingy alley and squirted all over him. He couldn’t stop himself anymore from cuming in you, his seed hitting your cervix which made you clench around him again, even harder. He kept cumming and cumming , he didn’t even know he had that much in him to give. Your greedy pussy sucking everything out of him, he had even forgotten to breathe. He slowly puts your legs down back around his waist, panting as small spurts of cum still shoot into you. Your foreheads are pressed together as you both catch your breath.

You’re the first one to say something, “well that was….”

“Yeah” he finishes your sentence opening his eyes to look at you, “are you okay?”

And then there you go with that smile again, “never been better” you breathe out with a small giggle. “But I do think we should probably get ourselves together.”

He nods as he slowly pulls out of you, both of yall hissing from the movement, extremely overstimulated leaving a connected trail of both of your juices as he leaves you. You start straightening out your shirt and your skirt, thinking back to how you got yourself in this situation in the first place. Not knowing how the two of you even ended in this predicament, you couldn’t blame it on alcohol. Neither of you even drank that much, but it was still making you overthink. What did any of this mean?

You look over at Aizawa while he fixes his pants, clearing your throat nervously as you fiddled with your skirt, “so would you like to talk about what just happened?”  Your question making him halt his moments. He sighs as he fixes himself, running his fingers through his hair seeming just as nervous as you were as if he wasn’t just fucking the soul out of you. Everything is quiet for a moment and you think maybe you really fucked up, that none of it meant anything to him, and you were just a quick relief to some stress he was under.

“I didn’t like seeing you with Sniper” he confesses after the long silence avoiding looking at you.

You blink several times, trying to process what he just said to you. There was no reason to be upset at seeing you with Sniper. “What?” you say louder than expected making his gaze turn to yours, his jaw clenched. Your face was crunched in a way that didn’t really give away what you were thinking.

“I was….” He exhales “jealous. Seeing you laugh and talk with Sniper. The two of you were so close during the whole meeting and then seeing you lean your head on his shoulder just set me off. I was jealous.”

“Are you serious right now?”  Your question matching the confused disbelieve that your face now showed. It didn’t make sense to you why he would be jealous of Sniper, it had you looking at him in a way that made him feel even more exposed than him voicing his feelings had him.

“Well seeing the woman, I like flirting back and forth with another doesn’t really bring me joy. The way you laughed and whispered to him as if it was just the two of you in the room ticked me off. And then you went and laid your head on his shoulder. That was it, that’s what made me storm off.” he huffed in annoyance so unlike him, getting more irritated as he sees a wide grin spread across your face before your burst out into laughter. You were laughing so hard; you had to grip your stomach and tears streaming down your face. Eventually you calm, wiping the tears from your eyes to see an extremely irritated Aizawa.  How could you just laugh in his face after he confessed his feelings for you? He never thought that you were that kind of person.

“This is funny to you?”

You let out a few more giggles, before you sigh happily looking up at him like you always do, “you’re really cute you know that”

He just scowls at you as you walk towards him, but he doesn’t back away allowing you to grab his face in both of your hands. He tries to turn his head, avoiding your gaze but you turn his face back to you, placing a gentle kiss of his lips. It takes everything in him not to kiss you back. He glares down at you when you pull away, more embarrassment in his look than anger.

“You know he’s my cousin, right?” You say with that stupidly beautiful smile on your face. It took a few moments for Aizawa to register what you said, his scowl deepening as his face reddened at the realization.

“Your cousin” he says with an air of relief and embarrassment

“Yes, my cousin” you giggle kissing him again.

“The two of you look nothing alike” he huffs out, thinking of how he could have possibly known that.

“True but that doesn’t make him any less of my cousin.” You release his face taking a step back to quickly scroll through your phone, showing Aizawa what looks like a large family picture and there was you and yup there was Sniper. “I could of sworn I told you before, he was the one who conceived me to move here and apply for UA.”  You say as you tap your finger on your chin, thinking back to when you first became his assistant.

Aizawa takes a deep breath, he feels like an idiot. He was jealous of your cousin. JEALOUS of your cousin. Fucked you for the first time in a back-alley (yes it was really hot, and he thoroughly enjoyed it but still that wasn’t how he envisioned his first time fucking you). His face reddens even more just thinking about it, his stoic expression trying to settle back into his face.

“And I like you too by the way” you say as you bat those pretty little eyes at him

“So let me take you out on proper date then” he tells you more than asks you, regaining his previous confidence.

“I’d love that”

Later that night after you’re home and cleaned up from your activities, while you lie in bed looking at the texts between you and Aizawa about the future date you’re going to have with him you get a text from none other than your cousin.

BadShot🔫: I know you fucked Erasure Head in that back alley

You stare at the message in horror, thoroughly embarrassed wondering how the hell he knew as you see the typing bubbles appear

BadShot🔫: the two of you weren’t very quiet.

You quickly respond back “blocked for harassment”

BadShot🔫: that’s fine I’m telling your mom

You never called someone so fast in your life.  He was definitely no longer your favorite cousin.