#uh oh another ghost for my folder of ghosts | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kadeeesworld · 3 months ago

Text

War of hearts

Chapter 1: MIA

I just wanna say I don’t much like this maybe it’s because it the first chapter or whatever who cares it’s proofread but not really enjoy!

Also it’s my first time writing for COD and I know some people are much better at writing their accents but I’m so American it’s painful so stick with me here!

Okay and trigger warning I suppose: mentions of drugs, and abuse, mentions of a gun and kidnapping, child abuse and rape.

the task force was in the middle of a briefing Laswell breaking down the facts for them as everyone got a vanilla envelope.

“She’s a 16 year old girl highly trained and she’s escaped”

“Escaped? Escaped from where?”

John spoke up his brows furrowing as he took in the little bit of Information they had of the girl.

“A top secret facility buried deep in Russia, they kidnap young girls and boys train them into killing machines and send them out onto battlefields with our soldiers just to have them killed.”

Gaz looked around the table.

“How’s she only 16 though—“

“She was taken at 10 actually from the states right out of her front yard.”

Ghost flips the folder closed and tossed it to the middle of the table

“Bloody fucking ‘el as if we don’t have enough going on now little brats are being snatched?”

“She’s not a brat anymore, shes dangerous and she’s trained almost as well as you guys be careful.”

“She’s just a girl how hard could it be?”

The team suits up and gets ready to get on a flight to the states it was going to be a long 8 hours.

“Remember lads this isn’t a vacation this is a mission treat it as such, we get in we get this girl and we bring er’ home.”

“What if she doesn’t wanna go?”

“She doesn’t have a choice.”

A few days pass.

“Who’d ave thought that finding one bird would be this hard we haven’t heard or seen anything.”

“Speak for yourself mate I’ve heard about this underground club where the company is exceptionally young, think our girl could be there?”

“Wouldn’t doubt it Kate did say she was only 16 and we haven’t found her yet it might be worth a shot.”

After a 45 minute drive to a part of town that seems all to sketchy they walk down into an alleyway and bang on the door the eye hole slides open and a man with a nasty scar over his face peeks through and then open the door and the file in.

Once inside it looks just like a normal club expect for the fact that only girls younger than 19 are the ones on poles and serving drinks it’s disgusting and quite frankly sad.

“This is beyond fucked up.”

“I know lad but it’s part of the job, let’s look around for our girl yeah?”

They break off and find places to sit they make conversation and eavesdrop on discussions all for it to amount to the owner has some of his specialty girls in the back they cost pretty penny though.

With a nod to the others price heads off to the shiny leather door and the back and knocks on it another eye hole opens

“The fuck do you want?”

“We’re er’ about uh your specialty girls.”

The man smiles it’s sick makes your skin crawl.

“Of course gentlemen,” he opens the door wide for them, “right this way.”

They all file in and sit down on a plush leather couch the girls scattered about the room and each of them takes them in

“Aren’t they beauties? I paid good money for them these are the youngest ones I have…”

John speaks up

“Have you got anybody new…maybe someone you’ve got recently I’d prefer…well we’d prefer someone fresh if you don’t mind.”

The man’s face lights up

“Oh of course of course only the finest! For my new guests and you can call me jimmy by the way.”

He holds out his hand to John and John shakes it with a faux smile.

“Price.”

“Right, I’ll be right back.”

Jimmy steps away and walks further into the back room coming back with a girl her hair was matted and he body covered in dark bruises some lighter and in different stages of healing and on her arms multiple needle marks her veins are definitely shot, the icing on the cake though was the way she seemed completely out of it her eyes glazed over looking off into space the looked so hollow…so empty.

“This is the latest that we have, picked her up a while ago I just saw her walking the streets it’s was late one night and I just knew I had to have her. I had to know what she smelled like, what she tasted like and let me say she didn’t disappoint.”

He pulled her down onto the couch by her arm and into his chest petting the back of her head and cooing at her.

The boys looking at her could tell this is the girl they’d been looking for but she certainly wasn’t the trained girl Laswell had spoken of…

Jimmy got up and walked around the large glass table and sat her down on prices Lap.

“She’s good right? You like her, all of you?”

Price looked into her face and a just for a moment sympathy and pain was etched into his face and his eyes told everything he couldn’t say in that moment ‘I’m sorry this is happening to you’

Price turned his head back to Jimmy

“She’s perfect…”

“Great! Now it’s 10 an hour!”

Soap looked almost surprised.

“Dollars?”

Jimmy spoke up with a joker like grin.

“No mohawk man, grand!”

John spoke up again before anybody could make a fool out of themselves.

“That’s fine we’ll take er…”

“Yes, she’s new hasn’t been with anybody but me yet she’s still fresh now if you’d like I could bring you another girl that would drop you down to about 5 grand an hour.”

Jimmy spoke as if they were conducting to most regular business transaction in the world he spoke as if he didn’t just bring out a 17 year old girl to four grown men knowing that if these weren’t good men she’d probably be getting fucked and all other manner of things.

“I don’t think so mate.”

“Mate? Well aren’t you funny sounding, where’d you say you’re from again you don’t sound American…”

“We didn’t say…”

“Right of course…”

Jimmy looked as if he’d just seen a ghost and deep down it’s almost as if he knew he was caught and it was only a matter of time—-

Jimmy hopped up flipping the table towards them and making a run for the leather door they had just come in soap being the closest hopped up after him tackling him to the ground they got what they came for na snow it was time to call it in and get authorities and ambulance here to help the girls.

While gaz and Simon did crowd control of the rest of the club ensuring nobody got away so they would be able the face what they’re down the way they deserve John sat with the girl in his lap he’d wrapped her up in a blanket and he held her.

“You know lovie we don’t even know your name…you didn’t have one on file it was almost as if you’d been completely erased from existence…even when we looked back to when you were taken and reported missing, nothing. It’s almost as if someone wanted to hide you away from the world forever.”

Simon tapped on the door

“Ey’ cap the coppers and medics are here, let’s get her situated yeah?”

Price looked back down at her and sighed

“Yeah.”

About a week passed and finally she’d woken up came out her drugged state and she was clear now the boys didn’t know what that would mean for them but for now all anyone else was worried about was the fact that she wouldn’t eat or drink anything she’s just lay there…

“I really am worried about her gentlemen, she hasn’t spoken a word or eaten a thing she’s losing what little weight she had and she keeps muttering something I can’t understand. I don’t know what’s going on or what was happening to all those girls in there but if this keeps up we’ll have to sedate her and push a tube down her throat to make sure she doesn’t die.”

Well that wasn’t fucking good.

“We’ll see about er’ ma’am thanks for the report.”

“Sure thing.”

The nurse walks back behind her station and the boys face her hospital room and walk in there’s one of the standing table trays over her legs a plate of food on top completely untouched and she eyed them when they walked In like predator does prey once they’ve decided you’re who they want for dinner.

“Hey there…heard you weren’t eating a thing lovie…why’s that?”

Silence.

John just smiled at her and tried again.

“I know it’s shit bird but you’ve got to eat somethin it’s not healthy for you to starve like this, we need you healthy so we can take you back—“

Before he could even finish she up holding her fork to his eye trying To push in further down she’s is pretty strong but without eating for days price easily overpowered her pinning her down to the bed and she lost it. Screaming. Yelling. Kicking and scratching. The nurses rushed in and sedated her and slowly she calmed down her hands gripping onto John shirt before she fell unconscious.

It was hours later when she had woken up and her room was empty she sat up and threw the covers off of her sitting for a moment to gather herself before pushing off the bed and walking over to her window there was a single nurse behind the station and the men seem to have gone.

She quickly slipped out of her room and down a hall but before she could turn a corner soap and gas were standing in front of the vending machine staring at her and she right back at them. Nothing was said she just bolted and had and soap were hot on her tail yelling after her, she cut corners and pushed people down and out of the way to put distance between them and finally she caught a break and slipped under a sheet what was on a gurney after a moment or two she heard them run past but she kept still after a moment or two the gurney started to move and when it finally stopped she was in the basement morgue the room was empty safe for a few black body bags.

She got up off the gurney and started looking around for anything she could use to help her get out of there after a bit of searching she found a clear bag with a name on it something she couldn’t quite understand and inside was a gray hoodie and back jeans and a dirty pair of sneakers a wallet, a bus card and a photo of people she didn’t know must be the family of the deceased.

The hoodie had blood splatters and the so did the sneakers but clothes were clothes and this isn’t fashion week. She found a rag and wet it scrubbing the blood off best she could as to not stand out she didn’t need anyone stopping her asking if she was okay she just needed to get away from the hospital but first she needed a weapon.

She used the stairs to get back on the patient floor looking for anything when she was passing a room she overheard a doctor talking about a patient needing sedation in a nearby room and telling a nurse to get everything ready she watched the nurse ready the tray and take it into room setting it down before she left again to go get gloves with quick precision she slipped into the room grabbing the syringe and getting out after roaming the halls for a bit longer she found exactly what she was looking for. Security and because this is America of course he had a gun.

She backed into a room finding a medical waste bin and sticking her hand in to cover it in blood making sure to not wet her sleeve before pulling it back down and walking out she started up the the harsh hospital lights until her eyes started to burn and water then she walked over to the guard.

“Sir could you help me please my friend she’s a patient here and she passed out in the bathroom I think she hit her head she’s bleeding!”

She pulled him into the nearby women’s bathroom and once he rushed down to the other end with his back turned she stabbed the syringe into his neck pushing all the milky liquid into him before snatching it back out and watching him fall helplessly to the ground once his eyes shut she reached his body grabbing his gun and slipping it into the back of her pants before grabbing his wallet and taking out over $50 bucks shoving it into her pocket before heading back down to the basement it would be the easiest way to get onto the street without walking back through the entire hospital and risk being caught.

Once she got out, an open exit though the ambulance bay she stepped onto the just New York street finally breathing some fresh air but that didn’t last long before she knew it she heard a familiar British accent her eyes snapped open and there they were running after her, she ran right through the oncoming traffic dodging cars and running the sidewalk till she came across a lone man about to get out of his car she pulled the gun from her pants and pointed it at him.

“Woah! Lady what the fuck!”

“Give me your fucking keys and your wallet right now!”

The man tossed his keys and his wallet her feet and move she picked them up she hit him with the butt of her gun and sped off. Once price and the others finally caught up all they saw was her burning rubber hitting a corner and a man with his forehead split open.

“Clever girl she is…”

“Bloody fucking fast too, I don’t even run like that in PT!”

Gas grunted before hunching over his hands on his knees trying to clam his breathing.

“I guess Laswell was tellin nae lies bout’ the bonnie lass she’s quick.”

“Lots of stamina still for someone who wasn’t eaten in days she must be starving by now.”

“She is, that’s where she’ll head next.”

After some terrible driving and almost killing two civilians she finally parks the stolen car in an alleyway two blocks away from a Waffle House and she gets out she finds another parked car by the side of the road and steals the tag off it and switching them out before heading to eat she was in fact starving so much so it hurt.

Once she got in she seated herself and a waitress brought her a menu. She smiled so sweetly down at her.

“Do you have any idea what you might want?”

“What can fifty bucks buy me?”

“Oh! Well…”

A pile of plates later, and the cook and waitress watching her eat like an animal with her hands she had finished wiping off her face with her sleeve and wiping her hands on her pants and left the bill on the table and walked out, she walked the two blocks back to her stolen car and slid into the back laying down on the seat.

The rain came down hard hitting the roof of the car like pellets it kept her up she couldn’t sleep she just looked out of the window watching the raindrops race and how the city lights shined through as of giver her, her own private show of color.

The solitude though was short lived and she was napped out of her trance by a knock at the window it’s them.

“Alright now lovie that’s enough running for now right? You come with us you won’t have to sleep in a cold car tonight.”

Soap pushed past pulling the door open.

“Ye know for someone whose name we don even know you’ve given us hell since we’ve gotten ye!”

#task force 141 #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod modern warfare #ghost cod #cod x reader #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #john price #cod #soap cod #cod mw3 #simon riley x reader #john mactavish #kyle garrick #platonic

34 notes · View notes

itsohh · 1 year ago

Text

To Let Go

A/N: Female reader, I take the canon and I fix it (make it worse). This had been stuck in my mind since I finished the campaign. Well after it soaked in. This does focus on your relationship with Soap / Ghost but also your friendship with Gaz. (He's just a great friend ngl)

Summary: A series of small snippets in the throuple life between you, Ghost and Soap. From when you first met through your mutual contact and friend Gaz until the end events of MW3.

Word count: 5005

Warnings: angst, major canon character death, sucidal thoughts, MW3 spoilers.

AO3 Masterlist

The Meeting

2020

The group of them stared at the table before them, Laswell on call. "This is far from home. We're going to need to get help." Price paused and looked towards Kate on the screen. "Got any friends that know Australia."

"A few." Her eyes cast towards Gaz. "You’re in luck, one just happens to live on your back door. Garrick knows them rather well."

Kyle's lips parted and he shook his head before he smiled and folded his arms.

"I'll track her down." Kate nodded.

"No need, I reckon I know where she probably is tomorrow night."

"And she'll help us?" Soap asked.

"She will if I ask."

The pub was a complete roar. It was uncomfortably packed. All the screens had been changed and the thick smell of alcohol filled the air. Everyone's focus was on their drinks and the screens above.

"This is where we find your contact?" Ghost hated the close proximity of everyone in the building.

"Yeah she should be right around the corner in a booth-" His voice was cut off as everyone in the pub let out a roar. Drinks clinked and splashed everywhere while people hugged each other. A different scene was set when he slipped into the corner booth. It had been almost completely empty, strange for such a packed pub.

"Gaz. Long time no see." You didn't look away from the television that was in perfect view.

"What game is it?" He asked as the rest of the task force slipped in next to him.

"Bledisloe Cup, in Brisbane."

"Who's winning?"

"Who's your friends?" You countered.

"This is Captain Price, that's Soap and this is Ghost."

For the first time, you took your eyes off the television and sized up the men. "Captain? Suppose this isn't a pleasure meeting then."

"'Friad not." Price spoke up.

"Hmm. Sorry, I can't help you. I'm suspended." You immediately shut them down. Gaz's lips parted and his body tensed up.

"You're suspended?"

"Uh-huh. We might be allies and all but can't help you if I'm not supposed to be working. Gonna have to find another girl for your situation."

"Why you suspended?" Soap asked.

You leaned on the table and your head turned towards him. "Officially or unofficially?"

"Give us both." Ghost answered.

"Well officially…" You swirled the liquid in your glass. "It's a paid suspension until I am reassigned."

"And unofficially?"

"I taught my Captain the importance of making the right call."

"You punched another one of your COs" Gaz sounded annoyed.

"This happen a lot?" Ghost asked.

"Only since they stuck me here."

"For someone whose job it is to play nice with others, you don't do a very good job of it," Gaz said. A smile curled up on your lips as you took a sip from your drink. “Do I even want to know?”

“No.”

“Would you tell me if I asked?”

“...Maybe another time.” Your eyes went up to the television and you pressed your lips together as your glass made contact with the table. “Hypothetically, what did yah need me for?”

The men exchanged looks and Gaz gave Price a small nod. Price produced a folder from inside his jacket and slid it on the table towards you. Your eyes found it and you flicked it open like a book. “This is… oh fuck this is Australian territory- this is…” Your eyes darted between the men. “Why the fuck do you want in here- actually don’t tell me. You guys won’t be able to legally get in here. The Australian government will never allow it. No Australian will help you.”

“Which is why our mutual friend recommended you.” Ghost spoke up.

“Gaz?” Your eyes landed on him and narrowed.

“Laswell.” Price corrected.

“Laswell’s in on this? Hmm, look yeah I know the area pretty well, not like any native but well enough. If you can get Laswell to pull some strings about my suspension I’ll help you out. Even if this is off the record I’m grounded and would be in a lot of trouble if I leave the country at the moment.” You drained the rest of your drink and spun the glass around on the table. Their eyes were drawn to the sight a second before you stood up. “Gaz has my number. Do call it sometime.”

“What about your game?” He gestured to the television above you.

“We already won the series. The outcome of this doesn’t matter. Besides, the mention of work has stained my night.”

Kiss Me

2021

You laughed as Soap sang out on the stage. His voice was horribly off-key but that didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was the pure joy on his face. You had been transfixed on him, just as Ghost was next to you. How could you not? Forget a ray of sunshine, he was the entire sun. Warm and full of light, he was breathtaking in a way that had your cheeks heat up.

It was so easy to pretend, the way he serenaded you. Truly a performance. Soap reached out for you to come join him and you furiously shook your head.

"No way MacTavish."

"Come on. You have been on the couch the entire night and it's not very often we get a karaoke machine."

"Thank god for that." Ghost mumbled next to you.

"I'm with Ghost on this one. If I had known that you would be trying to get me to do this, I would have shot you lot down at the pub."

"Awww come on, besides you had fun at the prison."

"It was in fucking Tasmania. I hate Tasmania. Get your boyfriend here to come and sing with you instead."

The pair of them froze the second and exchanged a look.

"Oh? Husbands then?"

"How did you know we were toge-"

"Soap we are almost always working. My room’s next to Ghosts. I hear you guys all the time."

"Fuckin hell." Ghost grumbled under his breath but Soap seemed almost excited by the information. There was a glint in his eyes as his lips curled up. It seemed like they had been trying to keep it a secret. Yet, the way he looked at you, the way both of them looked at you, there was something else to the matter.

"Heard all that but never bothered to come join us?"

You let out a cough of shock which turned into a fit. His gaze burned into your skin red hot and you turned to see a similar one from Ghost.

"You’re joking." You managed to cough out.

"Negative." Ghost's voice had your hair stand up on your skin with anticipation.

"You’re serious." You swallowed as you managed to compose yourself. You looked down for a moment.

"Less you don't want to. An't gonna force you."

"I don't do casual."

"Fine by me. What about you Ghost?"

"No complaints here."

"I- I've known you for like four months. Why? Have you been looking for a third is this-?"

"Nah, nothing like that. We like you." Soap sat on the sofa next to you and you could practically feel the way the boys were toying with you.

"Nothing more to it than that. Don't overthink this." Ghost's voice now came from behind you as you faced Soap.

"Do the pair of you normally fraternise with teammates?" You mean the words to come out humourous but your voice died a little and it came out as a breath.

"Only the pretty ones." Soap was quick to reply and you could practically feel Ghost roll his eyes behind you.

"Ask Johnny."

"Canni kiss you?"

"Yeah."

Soap leaned in, his lips slowly on yours and you were aware of Ghost the entire time. His eyes watching you but somehow that didn't turn you off in any way. You pushed into Soap and snaked a hand into his hair. It gave you a good place to grip as you deepened the kiss. He moaned into your lips, clearly delighted in the turn of events as your tongue sealed entrance into his mouth.

It was a request that wasn't granted right away as his tongue met yours and messily tangled with your own. Soap's hand landed on your thigh and gave it a decent squeeze but was promptly interrupted by the sound of the front door opening. Price and Gaz were back.

You separated from him, lips slightly swollen and Soap gave you a knowing smile. "We can continue this later yeah?"

"Yeah."

I Love you

2021

It had been a close call. Too close for anyone's liking. One of those 'life flashing before your life moments'. But it wasn't a bunch of memories of everything that ever happened to you. No, the only thing you could focus on was the voices of your friends, your lovers.

Price, Gaz, Soap and Ghost. While you couldn't understand what they were saying you could still hear them. You had been so horribly pinned down. If Ghost hadn't been there for overwatch you knew you would have been a goner.

It seemed like everyone had brushed it off. After all, close calls were part of the job, but it still played over and over like a broken record.

The warm bed with both of your lovers had been a sanctuary that you left. The night your mistress as you stared up to the sky. Death had stared you in the eyes and was killed.

"Can't sleep?" Ghost came up and joined you. He leaned on the barrier but you didn't turn to face him. It didn't surprise you, he was a light sleeper.

"Cut it a bit close today." You breathed.

"Saw that."

"Thanks for having my back."

"Someone has to keep you alive." A silence settled between the pair of you for a couple of minutes. It was a comfortable silence that danced well with the refreshing coldness of the night's air.

"One day this job will take me."

"Takes all of us. Good soldiers don't last long."

"Your still kicking."

"'M not a good soldier."

"Right bastard you are LT." Soap's voice joined the pair of you and he settled his way to your left.

"Sorry if I woke you Soap."

"Beds too cold with our the pair of you." He mumbled.

"Surprised you can tell with your furnace of a body." Ghost said.

"Oi-"

"I love you. Both of you." Your voice interrupted them and they went silent. "So much it hurts." You look down over the railing. "I could have died today without telling you. That doesn't sit right with me."

Soap whispered out your name and then you suddenly felt his arms around you. He pulled you into his chest and Ghost pressed his chest against your back. Sandwiched in between them you were engulfed in their bodies and warmth.

"We love you too, lass. Always."

Reunited

2022

Your legs burned. Most of your energy has already been spent on the mission. Now every Shadow in Las Almas was out to get you and you really just wanted a warm bed. Separated from the rest of your squad and alone in the dark, you could only hope that Soap and Ghost made it out.

Any hope to reunite with them had been thrown out the window when your radio broke. It didn't matter if you survived, only if they did. A trail of bodies marked where at least one of them had been. In all honesty, you couldn't tell the difference between Soaps or Ghosts kills. All were expertly done.

At the moment you could feel it. The difference between you and them. They were the best of the best. You? You certainly weren't bad but your spot in the team was one due to convenience and the information that they needed at the time. They would survive and you would not. Somehow the fact didn't make you was.

So long as they continued on. That's what mattered. That was the realisation you made as you slid down against a wall. A line of blood painted the wall behind you until you met the ground. The bullet wound that had gone clean through you had been attended to by the best of your ability but it was almost impossible to deal with the hole in your back.

You wondered if a Shadow would find you first or if you would just bleed out. A fate so many civilians of Las Alma's were given. A blinding light in the darkness had you squeeze your eyes shut. It was like the sun on steroids. It didn't matter much because the second you closed your eyes they became far too heavy to reopen.

"Fuck it's her. She bleeding bad."

"Get her in back, we need to go now."

Those voices, angels of their own kind. A weak smile curled on your face and you managed to grasp out while you were moved about. "Johnny." You weakly whispered and put your bloody hand on his face.

"I got you, we got you."

Care

2021

The lights were far too bright but nothing like you had experienced before. A groan left your lips and you attempted to move only to be stopped. A hand kept you still but you pushed away.

"Stop that else I'll let you bleed out."

"Simon?"

"Scared the shit outta us you know that?"

"’M sorry."

"Should be." You cracked your eyes open to meet his.

"Where are we?"

"A safe house Alejandro told me about. I patched up your wounds. You've been out for a while. Lucky too."

"That I didn't bleed out?"

"That nothing happened to you while we were gone."

"You left?"

"Had to, the three of us got Alejandro out of prison. The old man showed up with Gaz as well."

"Thank fuck they're okay."

Ghost continued to repatch your wound and your eyes cast across the room.

"What's going on?"

"Plans to take back the base." His eyes met yours as your mouth opened. "No your not coming."

You bit your tongue for a second and nodded. Silence ran between the pair of you, only the sound of the Vaqueros around you chattering away prevented true silence.

"Thought you were dead."

"Felt like it."

"You didn't radio in."

"It got busted."

"You took a bullet for Johnny."

"Rather I take it than him."

"He wanted to stay, to look for you."

"And you were the voice of reason I presume.

"Don't do that again."

"Ghost…"

His back straightened up and his eyes narrowed. "Wanted to search the entire city for you."

"That's Johnny for you-"

"-We both did."

"I…You made the right move in the end. Leaving."

"Couldn't lose Johnny as well. Wasn't easy convincing him to leave the city. Pure luck we found you."

"I don't know why you're mad at me. What did you want me to do?"

"You were ready to die there. You gave gave up. Don't ever stop fighting because we won't stop fighting to get you back. Ever. We're a team. Don't you forget that."

Roadtrip

2022

It had been hours that the group of you had been in the car. Save for the few put-stops made along the way. Ghost sat in the driver's seat to the right while Soap was on the left. The sun above was oh-so bright while the roads were relatively clear.

With your seatbelt stretched far, you leaned on Ghost's seat in front of you. There was only sometimes chatter among the pair of you. A comfortable silence settled in and was only disrupted when one of you saw something of interest outside the window.

The current silence was when your ears perked up. "Oh my god, I love this song. Turn it." You patted Soap's shoulder. Ghost was the one to turn it up but didn't say a word.

"Fan of Elton John huh?" Soap smiled over his shoulder.

His question was answered by your singing that picked up in the car. A wide grin spread across his face as he continued the duet with you.

Honey if I get restless

Baby, you’re not the type

That grin on his face was reflected on yours as you bobbed your head side to side with the music. Soap turned it up a little bit more.

When I was down

I was your clown

"An't that the truth." Ghost muttered and you slapped him on the shoulder but you couldn't help but laugh into the song.

Don't go breaking my heart

I won't go breaking your heart

Dance

2023

Soap and Ghost finally made it into the pub where Price and Laswell waited for them. There was a calm relaxed vibe in the room as the two men settled down with drinks in hand.

"Laswell. Captain." Ghost greeted and Ghost followed.

"Boys."

"Where's the other two?" Soap asked and Price lifted his glass to point towards the jukebox. There in front of it, you danced with Gaz. Poorly at that. Music blared seemingly louder when the pair of them looked.

Your head tilted back as you laughed only to duck down under Gaz's arm as the pair of you danced. Ever so faintly they could hear the pair of you sing along.

Ghost pulled out his seat and sat down, not taking his eyes off you for a moment. Soap did the same and while a piece of him wished that was him there with you- it brought him joy to see you having so much fun with Gaz.

Ghost's hand settled on Soap's knee under the table. The need for touch, any touch. "Been at it for a while those two have." Price lifted his drink to his lips.

"Make quite the dance couple." It was rare for them to see Laswell with her hair down, even if it was metaphorically.

"Mentioned something about not dancing since she moved out."

"They lived together?" Ghost asked.

"Briefly when she first moved to England from what I heard. Seems the dancing queens have finished up, you can ask yourself."

Love

2023

The smell of sex filled the air as you cuddled up to Simon's side. Completely bare, not even his mask protected his face. He looked directly at the ceiling as your head rested on his chest. Johnny mirrored you on the other side.

"I love you both." You hummed seemingly out of nowhere. Soap cocked a brow and Simon looked down at you.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

His End.

2023

There was something about going as fast as you possibly could and still being late. There was something about trying your damn hardest and still losing. There was something about giving your all and it all being taken.

There was something about arriving only to find your heart on the ground. Already dead. Just the last to know.

The sound of the trains ran in your ear. Gaz and Price's voices were so distant even though they were only a few metres away. The talk of a red wire met your ears but didn't enter. You were the first to crumble.

Your knees hit the ground in shock as your hand shakily reached for his face. Still warm. Still so so warm. You had just missed him. Two minutes early- two minutes and he would have been there. There, safe in your arms, not cooling on the ground.

"Simon." It was your other lover's name you called. In that moment the small whisper could only be heard by him as crouched next to you. It was all you could say. A beg for him to do something as if he could resurrect the man before you.

Broken and unsure, he was always the one with answers. The one that knew how to make things right. Not this time though. Tears didn't swell in your eyes. They couldn't. All you felt was cold. Shock cursing through you. No longer were you a hardened soldier but a young woman. A woman who had just lost her love.

When you finally looked up you found you weren't alone. Anger coursed through Price, a silent anger that oh had never seen before. A violent one that was only controlled by the tightness of his first.

Gaz had a sadness to his. He leaned down to close Johnny's eyes and you couldn't help the choke gasp that left your lips as he did so. When you finally dared to look at Simon's eyes, his met yours and you saw the glassy layer of tears that threatened but wouldn't fall.

He was gone.

Home

2023

It wasn't often you left without Ghost. Yet when the group of you silently got back to base, you didn't bother to go to the debriefing. You couldn't. Your body was on complete autopilot as the sight of Soap dead on the floor played your kind

That autopilot got you home. Not to the apartment that you shared with Soap and Ghost but your own apartment. The one you hadn't been to in what felt like years. Only the odd check-up for the sake of your insurance.

The door was pushed open and your feet took you inside. Your fingers found the record player and you turned it on. Just like you used to do many years ago when you first settled in there.

She packed my bags last night, pre-flight

Then you broke. Snapped. You were brought back and you let out a howl. A deathly scream and the damn burst. Johnny was gone and he was never coming back. Every moment had been the last. Only alive in memory, that promising future or his had been sniffled out.

It's lonely out in space

You swore out and grabbed the first thing you saw- a lamp- and smashed it down on the ground. "Johnny!" You screamed. A horse scream, one from the very pit of your core. The side table was pushed over as you saw red. Tears streamed down your face as you smashed the glass coffee table in front of your sofa. You didn't care that the glass cut into your first when it collided. It didn't matter in the grand scheme of things.

The television was the next to go. The DVD player was the perfect object to be filled out and sent into the middle of it.

Rocket man, burning out his fuse up here alone

Your CD collection, partially empty now thrown to the ground. What caught your eye though, was the pistol that had been strapped to the bottom of your side table. It had fallen from the holster and in a moment of grief, you picked it up.

The buzz of Gaz's phone had him pick up. It wasn't often that Ghost called him.

"Do you know where she is?"

"Went home didn't she?" Gaz's voice was quiet, tired.

"Not here. She's not picking up her phone either." Ghost didn't need to say that he was worried, Gaz already knew.

"Well, she could have meant her home. She has an apartment not too far from the base. I can text you the address. I have a key."

"I'll meet you there.”

The apartment building was rather dark when he arrived. In all honesty, the place you picked wasn’t the greatest. A shithole of an apartment complex really. But it was discrete and the neighbours never complained. Or at least they had never complained when he would share late nights with you with the music up loud.

Gaz knocked on the door a couple of times but didn’t receive an answer. Doubt crept up on him, perhaps you didn’t go back there. Regardless, he had to check. The key slid into the slot with ease and he pushed the door open. He silently swore as he saw the scene before him. Your entire apartment had been completely trashed, everything destroyed without mercy.

A light buzz from your record player hummed in the air but besides that, there was little sound. Or so he originally thought. As he took a step inside he heard the faintest of sobs coming from the kitchen. Gaz was on high alert and his hand went to the pistol at his hip. But when he reached the kitchen his shoulders dropped and his brows softened.

“Hey, hey, hey.” He rushed to your side. You sat on the floor with your back leaning against a kitchen cabinet. Blood ran down one of your hands. “What happened? W-”

“He's gone.” For a moment he thought you meant an intruder, someone trying to hurt you but realisation was quick to cross his face. Alarm bells went off in his head as his eye went to the gun that shook slightly in your trembling hand.

“I can’t… I can’t do it anymore Kyle. He's gone and I can’t… I can’t bear to be away from him.”

His head tilted in empathy as tears rolled down your face.

“I just want to be with him again. I wish we never went down there.”

“We had to, thousands would have died.”

A bitter laugh left your lips and you choked on your tears. “I know it's selfish of me to say but I would have preferred that. Anything to have him back.”

“You know that and I know you don’t mean that.”

“Fuck, I do. I really do Gaz. I love him so much.”

“He loved you too but he wouldn’t have wanted that.”

“Well, it doesn’t fucking matter anymore because he's gone.” You shouted out and waved the gun. “I’m so tired. So so tired. He didn’t deserve that. He's too good of a man. I would have given anything to trade places.”

“Your right, he was a good man.” Kyle moved so he was sitting next to you against the kitchen counter. “The best. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone so head over heels for someone. For you and Ghost. I know for certain if something happened to either of you, any of us really, he woulda tore the world apart.” Gaz put his hand on your knee.

“I wish I could held him, have told him I loved him one more time.”

“He knew and I think it does matter what he wanted because you care about him. He would want you here with Ghost. If you…” Gaz paused, he couldn’t bring himself to say those words killed yourself. “Hung it in early, he’d be alone. He just lost Johnny, just like you did. I don’t think there would be anything left to him if something happened to you.”

“I…”

“Simon loves you. He’d be completely shattered. Just like the rest of us would.”

Your tears came down harder but he watched as your grip loosened on the gun and made the slightest twitch towards him. Slowly and gently, he took it from you and placed it on the countertop behind you. Gaz turned towards you and offered you a hug, one you took without hesitation and cried into his shoulder. Messy and wet but he didn’t care. His hand went to soothe your back as he held you tight.

As he looked over your shoulder his eyes made contact with Ghost’s. His eyes were glassy but hardened as he stood there frozen. “You’re not alone in this. I promise, we all hurting just as much. But we’re a team yeah? We got each other's back.”

You pulled back from Gaz and nodded. His hand came up your your cheek and wiped away the tears. “Ghost and I are gonna patch you up okay.”

“Ghost?” Your voice was small and vulnerable.

“Right here.” His voice came from behind you and you turned your head around. Guilt consumed your face and your eyes dropped. Ghost crouched down next to you and slowly took your bloodied hand.

“Promise me that you will stay.” Tears rolled down his face and were swallowed by the lower part of his mask. Neither of you had ever seen the man cry before. “Please.”

“I’m sorry.” You nodded your head and he pulled you into his arms.

“I can’t lose you.” He kissed the top of your head, his hands were shaking.

Call

2023

“-Yeah, I’m with them now. At her apartment with Ghost. It’s been a long night.”

“That Price?” Ghost’s voice was quiet as he looked over the sofa to see Gaz in the kitchen on the phone. Gaz nodded towards him before he walked over.

“Here's Ghost now.”

“You holding up?” Price’s gruff voice came through the phone and Ghost looked down to his lap where you lay there asleep. You were curled up to him, your hand now bandaged up.

“I’ll manage.”

“How is she?”

“Better not, almost lost her.”

“Yeah, Gaz mentioned. How bad is she?”

“She's strong, she’ll heal. It will always hurt but she can handle it.”

“Good. When you can tell her to take some time, the both of you.”

“Makarov’s still out there.”

“He is but we have allies and I won’t let something happen to hurt on my watch. She’ll need you.” Ghost gently stroked your head. “What about Johnny?”

“I’ve got the flights sorted, it’s what I originally called Gaz for. We leave in the afternoon.”

“Understood.”

“And Ghost? Take care.” Ghost's eyes looked over your calm face, still there. Still his. Still alive.

“Will do.”

Let go

The cool breeze soothed your body as you watched as Ghost opened the urn and let the wind catch.

Johnny's ashes spread out in a swirl, destined for the water below. Despite all the pain and all the grief you could help but smile. Just ever so slightly. Gaz had been right. It did matter what Johnny wanted. He would have liked this, to be returned home. He would have liked all four of you there with him.

Kyle gently squeezed your hand and you wiped away the silent tears on your face. It would be easy dealing with the pain and grief but in that moment, you knew things would get better.

#mw3 spoilers #ghost x reader #soap x reader #ghost x reader x soap #gaz & reader #simon riley #johnny mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #cod x reader #mw2 x reader #mw3 x reader

122 notes · View notes

hellsfirekeepsyouwarm · 1 year ago

Note

hi! I just saw your requests are open and I love your writing and was wondering if you can do something with either ghost or gaz where reader is going to school for their masters in communications while working with the 141 and asks them to read their thesis but instead ghost/gaz makes them take a break/go to bed or something? I've been reworking my thesis from this last semester and I'm losing my mind lol....keep up the amazing writing and thank you so much love!

Here To Serve

Hello love! Thanks for coming my way with this ask because i just needed an excuse to write for Gaz. :D Be prepared to be fall in love with this man, i did. I tried to keep it simple, i hope you'll like it.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x Reader

Summary: Gaz finds you glued to you computer, tired an worn out and he takes the matter in his hands.

Uh-oh. It slips out of Kyle's mouth when he stops in front of his flat. He hears the last notes of Rihanna's Umbrella song before some classical takes over, even louder. He can't hear his own keys jingle opening the door, he can hear every instrument from the blasting music, ears already ringing. He can't prepare himself for the sight hat he's about to see.

You are just a small figure on the sofa, completely buried in papers, books and sharpies. And he can't help but chuckle at how lost you look, a manic expression on your troubled face, furiously typing on the keyboard. He's sure if you see him standing there, a smile on his face while you are on the edge of going crazy, you'll bite his head of for being so insensitive. He would watch you longer if the damn music wouldn't rip his brain out.

The room is a mess, and he finds the speaker under another pile of scratched out paper. He just lowers the volume, your head snaps up immediately at the loss of the stimulating background noise.

You look honestly horrifying.

"Oh no. You are home early." You smile, sheepish, almost embarrassed. Your eyes are glossy, makeup smudged over your cheek, messy hair peeking out of his grey hoodie that you are wearing.

You sudden surprise to see him sooner than you thought is quick to dissolve, you start rambling when Gaz sends you that scolding gaze. "Okay, so i had an idea. But that turned out worse than the previous one. So i had to rewrite half of it. But then i realized i may or ma no the original one better, so i..."

"Love.." Gaz puts down the Mexican food he got on his way home, finding his way to you over books and random stuff he wouldn't think about using while preparing for a thesis. Crouching next to you, a soft look easing the tension in your shoulders. "We talked about this."

"But i done it. Seriously." You turn your laptop towards him, to show a folder that was there weeks ago, perfect and ready. "I just need you to read it and tell me what's wrong with it."

Gaz shakes his head with a faint smile. "Oh no, no more of that nonsense. Give it to me."

With that, the computer is out of your reach, his skillful hands stealing it from your iron grip you had on it for hours now. You just now feel your sweaty palms, and an aching back and neck. "No, Kyle, please. I gotta double check if it's okay now."

"You will not do such thing tonight, and if it's up to me, ever." He take the laptop to the other end of the room, saving the folder beforeshutting it down. You want to protest more, but honestly your body is like stone, rooted on the same spot where you sat down in the early afternoon.

He's wearing casual clothes, one of your favorite jacket, that dark brown leather one, his skin is glowing from the wetness of the rain, cologne leaving a scent trail behind. You missed him so much.

You sigh, defeated, you know he won't let you touch anything that is related to your studies.

He walks back to you, your tired eyes searching for comfort in his gaze that he's more than happy to offer with a quick peck on your lips when gets back to you. He brushes the hair out of your face, soft fingertips caressing your skin. He doesn't linger too long, turning to the bag he placed on table, probably finding the only free space on it.

"Hey, where are you going?" You pout, unhappy about his absence in your personal space. He has that calming effect on you, and the loss of it makes your brain tick, circling back to your thesis.

"Uh-uh, do not think about it! I brought food, just gon' grab soda from the fridge and we can dug in, copy?" You nod, starting to arrange the books on the table, pushing everything in a big unstable pile in the middle.

He returns quickly, flashing a wide smile, eyes sparkling with love. You watch him fish out the food from the takeaway bag, the smell of Mexican food hitting your nose. He places mystery food bags in front of, making you wonder what deliciousness is inside them. "There you go, love."

You dive in together, eating in silence, a soft piano and violin duo making some background noise, occasionally letting out some huffs and satisfied hums.

You both watch the other in secret, laughing like teenagers when catching a glimpse of the other staring. Times like this you remember how young you both are, despite the lifes you live. On the field, his youthfulness presents itself as strength in body and mind, in quick reflexes and sharp ideas. At home, he is just a guy, feeding his significant other, making sure they are well rested and cared for. He's an idiot in love.

You inhaled you food while he eats comfortably, no rush in it. So you just memorize this moment, him eating in complete piece, enjoying the flavors, shutting his eyes for a seconds longer, maybe the taste is better that way. You are in awe of how full of life he is, and you would be the happiest person on this earth to keep watching him.

He opens his eyes, the last bite gone too. "Wha?" He's bushing, his accent popping off with the question.

"Nothing." You hold up both your hands, or rather the arms of the hoodie that swallowed your limbs.

Breath caught in his throat every time he sees you in his clothes. Yeah, you wore it ten minutes ago too, when he arrived home, but as your face beams like the rays of sunshine, a stupid smile plastered on your perfect lips, your body hiding under his own clothing, he feels like he's in heaven. His scent hugging your skin, the thought that you are so cozy in his clothes is just intoxicating. Makes his heart skip a beat.

"Come 'ere." That voice, raspy like in the mornings, when hes turned on, or when his emotions strike him at once. He pulls you close to his side, arm hugging you close, securing your body next to his. You snake your limbs over his body, leg hooked in his, arm grabbing his shirt for support.

When you settle, he sighs into your hair, planting small kisses on the crown of your head.

"Thanks for the dinner." You smile, turning our face upwards to meet with his gaze. "And for the distraction."

"Anytime, love. Here to serve." His cheeky smile makes you giggle, oh how madly in love you are with him.

"Hmmm... Well in that case, where the hell is the dessert soldier?" You ask, not able to hide your smile.

"Your dessert is right here, darling." He point at himself, utterly proud of his answer.

You laugh into his mouth, closing that already small distance between your lips, sharing a longing kiss. A kiss you yearn all day.

You break the kiss, trying to be as serious as you can. "But you brought dessert, right?"

He laughs, head thrown back, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. "Yeah, i brought dessert."

He kisses you with fiery eyes, tenderly, lovingly, the softest way a man is capable of. That dessert might have to wait a little more.

#kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick imagine #gaz x reader #gaz garrick x reeader #kyle garrick x reader #kyle garrick imagine #cod x reader

73 notes · View notes

unknownjpegs · 10 months ago

Text

could be

Another late shift. This time, no tell-tale shake of the handle or tinkling metal in the lock. It makes her suspicious. Makes her scared — usually, he announces himself. But this isn't usual: the whole shift passes. Without company.

Her stomach sours a bit about that. Melodramatic, of course. She's being silly, maybe the tiniest bit borderline.

Oh, you don’t like me anymore? You just disappear without warning, don’t let me know what’s going on? Because we’re done, or something? Because it was just…

Matilda does not think about his fluffy hair beneath her fingers or pressing her mouth to the dimple in his cheek or anything else, for that matter, as she packs up her belongings at the end of the shift. Tucks the headphone splitter into a pocket that she rarely uses. Hopes she forgets about it, loses it within her bag's mess. Next time he decides to show up and wants to listen to some music together, she’ll only offer a pout. Say oh no, sorry, she lost it.

That’ll show him. Disappearing. Fucking ghosting. Her eyes sting. She begins to toss everything into her bag faster, a bit more haphazard, more than a touch angry. Working herself up for —

There’s a cough from the hallway, and her head snaps up.

It’s not him. It’s the tall blond that acts as his shadow, though, so her wash of panic is lessened somewhat when they’re face to face. That's confusing. The fear ebbs away like the tide; recedes back into the dark depths of itself, leaves her confused and strangely secure on the edge of the water.

He knows Lark. Lark knows you work this shift. Now he knows you work this shift. Lark told him. Lark talked about you?

“Hi.”

She watches him shift from foot to foot, scrub a hand through his hair, pluck at a cigarette behind his ear. His hair curls at the ends a little, but the

“Hi.” She says slowly. “I scream really loud, by the way.”

His nose wrinkles, eyes rolling up towards the ceiling and then away. “God. L-Last time I do a fucking favor.” Long fingered hands shake from his black jacket’s pockets, wiggle in front of her like he’s about to do a magic trick. “No need. That w-would be so much paperwork. Cannot be fucked to do paperwork.”

There’s a flash of a memory, of bobbing golden curls. It pings around in the back of her skull so quick and brutally it aches.

“You remind me of my brother,” Matilda offers. The confession startles her but she tries not to let that show, tucking the folder and her laptop closer to her chest. He doesn’t have a whole lot of height on her, but she still has to tilt her chin slightly to look him in the eye.

She…looks him in the eye. Hm.

He doesn’t though. At least, not for too long. In fact, it seems like it’s making him nervous. He’s a nervous sort of guy to begin with; she’s seen him around. With his slouch like Wolffe’s, with a similarly unhinged smirk, with a disconcerting laugh... Matilda’s heard the stories. Heard them from Lark, so they’re all horribly firsthand. Wild stories that she’s not sure if he realizes are as incredibly frightening as they are.

She wonders if he’s heard any of her. If Lark talks about her — and then she cuts that line of thinking off with a quickness. It’s a few fucks. It’s not talking to your friends. Except she’s told Nomi the basics, so…

“Uh,” he says, casting glances over each shoulder. Like he’s looking for backup? “Uh. Okay.”

Matilda allows the door close behind her. It knocks into the heel of her boot. Borrowed, bartered for, from another girl. Another tech. Made her a little taller, a little more do not fuck with me and a little less please do not fuck with me oh God.

He stares at her. Spooky eyes, really light, the sort of blue that some people find charming.

“He killed himself when I was ten.” Matilda offers, tucking the bag over her shoulder tighter. She stares back at him, watches the way those eyes widen slightly. “She tells everyone it was an accident when it wasn't. My mom thinks I don’t know that, but I do. I know a lot of things people don’t expect me to know.”

“Okay.” Benny says again, but now there’s no hesitation in it, no awkwardness of a fresh connection. It’s just understanding. Okay, heard.

“Where’s Lark?” Matilda pushes away from her lean against the door and begins moving down the hallway.

“Job,” Benny says from their distance. When she turns to look, he’s still standing there. Has shoved his hands back in his pockets. “He’ll be gone a week.”

Matilda pauses too. They’re maybe twenty feet from each other in this empty hallway, at two in the morning, at the end of her shift in her locked room because she’s terrified of the people on this base. The soldiers. Soldiers like him.

“Aren’t you in that unit?”

“Yeah.” He holds up a wrist, bandage peeking from beneath his sleeve. “M-Medical.”

Hm. The seconds drag on as the two of them assess one another. It’s silent except for when the base’s air kicks on. She’s stood under a vent, so Matilda takes several steps back. Then she jerks her chin over her shoulder.

“Walk me to residential.”

He doesn’t respond, but he does move. Gives her a jerky, strange bob of his head that she thinks means to be a nod. He has to jog to catch up; Matilda never slows her pace unless it’s Nomi beside her.

They walk in silence. It’s nice. It feels…not safe, but maybe like it wants to be. Like it could be.

#writing #ua #mmr #jlb #core au

0 notes

absolutepokemontrash · 3 years ago

Text

The Brothers and Side Characters Play the Sims

I don’t know what possessed me to make this but WHATEVER. I’ve been playing the Sims since I was a wee little girl, and I’ve seen my fair share of weird Sims stuff that I feel would fit these bozos perfectly.

My Sims have a Functional Family Life Because I Don’t (Lucifer)

God dammit Levi’s obsessed with another game... ugh.

Spends 5 minutes in Create-a-Sim and hops into a starter home.

Lucifer’s the type to start with all the average stuff and then build their stuff up as his sim gets promotions.

It’s just... so peaceful...

...he’s adopting a dog.

Look at his new little virtual family... his sim-kids are self sufficient and getting A’s in school, his Sim spouse MC or Diavolo take your pick loves his Sim-self, his sim-dog-

WAIT NO- THE DOG’S AN ELDER?!

AAAAAAAAAAAAA-

...

He’s fine. It was just a virtual dog. *sniffle*

He’s now spending his free time drinking Demonus and playing the Sims.

What’s a mod? Levi why does your sim have gun?

Behold, My Gorgeous Home... It’s a Box (Mammon)

Mammon, like the rest of the HOL, is mooching off of Levi’s Origin account.

“AW SHIT! This house looks awesome! I’m gonna build it for Sim-me to live in!”

Mammon proceeds to build a box with rooms. Yay...

He just picks the funnest sounding job if he picks any job at all for his Sim. That’s how he ended up making 9 dollars an hour in the criminal career.

Didn’t stop Mammon from buying that solid gold bathroom set from Get Famous... a box with solid gold bathrooms.

His Sim is broke send help-

“Leviiiiiii my sim needs money... the people my sim kidnapped and is forcing to paint aren’t making enough money...” “Ugh... press control shift C and type ‘motherlode’.”

...Levi made a mistake.

“FUCK YEAH! MOTHERLODE!”

His sim’s life is so chaotic, he has a piranha pool that his sim has almost died in twice, the sim is carrying on several torrid love affairs, his sim got struck by lightning, his sim has nearly died in a grilled cheese making accident twice... in the same day.

At least once Sim-Mammon and Sim-MC get married things calm down a little.

Mammon finds out what custom content is and proceeds to download EVERYTHING HE CAN FIND.

And now he’s asking Levi why his computer is running so slow.

Expansion Pack King (Leviathan)

He got into it back when the Sims 2 was new, he’s a veteran fan.

“Bro remember when Agnes Crumplebottom would show up and whack the shit out of your sims if they were flirting?”

“Remember when that witch would show up randomly on the lot you were on if you had Makin’ Magic?”

“Remember when Bella Goth was abducted by aliens and we just... didn’t question it?”

He whines about the Sims4 and how crappy it is but still buys every expansion pack, game pack, and stuff pack.

This boy watches like 40 hours of built tutorials and ends up sobbing over his weird roofs.

“WHY DOESN’T IT LOOK AS NICE AS THE ONE I’M LOOKING AT?! THIS ISN’T FAIR!”

The mod folder is so full istg-

Levi gets custom content for the sole purpose of making his favourite fictional characters.

This is why Henry and the Lord of Shadows are married and Ruri-chan and Sim-Levi are roommates.

Oh my god they were roommates-

Levi also added his brothers to the world and uh... Sim-Mammon died in a tragic pool accident F.

Levi then proceeded to befriend the Grim Reaper.

He’s anxiously awaiting the release of Paralives.

Wait Gameplay? In This Build Simulator? (Satan)

Satan’s here to build and leave. Gameplay who?

Our favourite bundle of rage is a master architect and the amount of followers on the Gallery he has shows it.

He takes up those build shell challenges and always ends up making them look positively perfect.

Asmo’s always using his houses, and Satan often takes requests when he gets bored.

No Mammon, he reserves the right to refuse to build a golden castle for you- YOUR SIM HAS 40 SIMOLEONS-

No mods, no CC, he’s building with what EA gave him.

...and EA gave him debug objects, and he’s not going to explain how to get them.

The one time he did actually play with a family... it was one sim and seven cats.

He tries to play without cheats... and ends up getting frustrated and turns on cheats.

All hail the Pets Expansion Pack.

Custom Content Soap Opera (Asmodeus)

Asmo spends 5 hours in Create a Sim then just... clicks out of the game.

That’s how it goes most of the time, buuuuuut when he gets super invested in a family he’s made, boy howdy is he INVESTED.

Sim A is carrying on an affair with Sim C who’s in love with Sim B who’s married to Sim A but Sim D wants to kill Sim A and C even though they’re the illegitimate child of Sim C-

When Asmo realizes that in the Sims 4 he needs to manufacture all the drama himself and he can’t just sit back with a glass of wine and watch the fireworks, he switches to the Sims 2 and 3.

“...why is this old lady beating up my Sim..?”

He immediately recoils in horror upon seeing how ugly the Sims are pre Sims4.

HE NEEDS TO FIX THIS-

Ah, there we go, perfect. Custom Content to the rescue!

He ends up remaking the entire world just so he doesn’t have to look at weird looking Sims.

Asmo is the only one to have finished a proper Legacy Challenge, but it gets crazy chaotic after gen 3.

“My sim just got abducted by aliens and now he’s pregnant- WHAT?!”

He has about 40 saves and only two he actually plays.

Just a Big Ol’ Happy Family (Beelzebub)

Beel found the game, proceeded to make everyone in create-a-sim to the best of his abilities, and made everyone get along.

That’s why Sim-Lucifer and Sim-Belphie are on a swing set together, they’re friends :D

“Hey Luke do you think you can make this?” “I-is that a cake shaped like a hamburger?” “Yes. Please make.”

He took one look at the cooking options and decided to max out his Sim’s cooking skill to unlock all the options.

Beel proceeded to drool all over his keyboard. Gross...

Boy howdy did he have some crazy dinner suggestions!

Overall, very wholesome Sim-life, except for the time Sim-Levi died because the toilet caught fire, don’t worry, Sim-Beel knows how to make ambrosia.

All is good in the Sim save...

...until Sim-Beel ate pufferfish nigiri and fuckin died-

Wait Did I Not Pause- (Belphie)

Huh, this game looks fine... I’ll play for a little- *SNORE*

Belphie makes some sims, plops them into a starter home, plays for an hour, then falls asleep.

He wakes up five hours later to absolute carnage.

Three sims have died because someone decided to make Mac and Cheese and the oven caught fire, the kids were taken away by social services, and the dog ran away.

“...heheh, holy shit everyone look.”

He doesn’t play often, but when he does, death occurs. He has found out every death method for every game from Sims 2 to 4.

And that INCLUDES the Sims Medieval! You guys remember that game?

Sometimes it’s not intentional, but Belphie got bored with the totally normal life his sims were living and decided to spice it up.

“Why are the ghosts breaking my showers..?”

Help There’s a Bug- (Diavolo)

The Crown Prince started playing when he noticed Lucifer was playing it.

He was immediately obsessed.

Dia mostly plays the Sims Medieval because he likes the feeling of achievement after completing a quest!

“Barbatos... why isn’t my Sim completing their task? The icon won’t show up.” “My lord it appears the game is bugged.” “:(“

No one thought to tell Diavolo that EA doesn’t plan on offering bug support to a game made in like... 2009

This doesn’t matter! Look at how great his kingdom is doing- oh no his hero has the plague-

He plays through the Pirates and Nobles expansion and manages to get the peaceful ending, he’s so proud of himself.

“MC! Look! My Monarch’s sword is permanently on fire and I’m fighting an evil wizard!”

When he does play the other Sims games he’s pretty basic, though, he does a great job at furnishing!

Dia gets crazy sad when his Sims die... he turns off aging.

Builder no. 2 (Barbatos)

Barbie doesn’t have time for this... but when he does, he builds.

No create a sim.

No playing the game as intended.

Just builds.

It’s relaxing, okay? A nice little suburban house he’s never going to play in, maybe a treehouse, maybe a big Hollywood Mansion...

The only time he actually plays the game outside of build mode is when someone needs his help to fix something in-game.

He does download custom content build items if he feels bored by the current selection.

Oh Crap What Am I Doing?! (Simeon)

Help him. Please.

He’s so confused.

“Luke, why is my sim upset?” “He’s hungry, Simeon.” “Oh, how do I fix that?” “...Simeon-”

There’s a toilet in the middle of the living room.

The fridge is facing the wall.

There’s no bathtub or shower.

The house is on fire- there is no god- AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-

Okay, once he gets the hang of it he’s sitting pretty. His sims have good jobs, the kids are getting good grades, everything’s fine.

...

But Simeon won’t forget the nightmares.

What Even is This Save? (Solomon)

Solomon’s save is the definition of chaos.

One sim’s a vampire, the other is a spellcaster that really wants to fight the Callientes for some reason, there’s one normal sim that’s always sick for some reason,

It gets weird, confusing, and horrible.

Just how Solomon likes it.

His house makes no sense, like, what even is architecture?

Money cheats are needed because Solomon‘a goal of chaos and confusion is proving to be kind of expensive.

Square up Mortimer Goth, Solomon’s sims are here to steal your weird knight statue that’s worth a shit ton of simoleons for NO REASON.

He joined the scientist career for the sole purpose of getting to the alien planet and kidnapping adding an alien to the household via cheats.

The vampire ended up dying on their wedding day because Solomon forgot that he gave them the sun weakness.

Oh well, the ghost got added to the household! VAMPIRE GHOST!

The Child (Luke)

Before you say Luke’s too young to play the Sims, you should know that I was nine when I first started playing, and I turned out fiiiiiiiiiine.

He’s just happy to be playing.

Look, his sims are gardening :D

Look, two of them are getting married :D

Look, they had a baby :D

Look, his sims are building a rocket ship :D

Look, his sims’s rocket just crashed-

The concept of death hit the little angel right in the face that day.

“*sniffle*... my sims...”

Don’t worry, with tears in his eyes, Luke quit without saving and everything was fine!

Speaking of My Sims, Luke played MySims Sky Heroes and that was when Luke had his first bout of gamer rage.

MC came over to hang out with Solomon and Simeon, and in the distance they could just hear:

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN MY TIME WASN’T FAST ENOUGH TO CONTINUE THE STORY!? I’LL SHOW YOU FAST ENOUGH TIME!”

Okay, maybe Simeon should take the game away... just for a bit... he should take heed not to be bitten by the incredibly angry chihuahua.

Bonus:

MC: Why are our Sims married?

*Insert Boy Here*: Uh... that’s weird... I have no clue why they’re doing that...

#Obey me #obey me headcanons #Obey me!#obey me! shall we date?#obey me! headcanons #obey me shall we date #Obey me Lucifer #Obey me Mammon #obey me leviathan #Obey me Satan #Obey me Asmodeus #Obey me Beelzebub #Obey me Belphegor #Obey me Diavolo #Obey me MC #obey me barbatos #Obey me Simeon #Obey me Luke #Obey me Solomon

557 notes · View notes

nobodysuspectsthebutterfly · 2 years ago

Text

WIP Folder Meme

I was tagged by @yavannie, thank you Yav!

Rules: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have WIPs. I have deemed that this isn’t just for writing either. Sketch titles? Comics? DnD campaigns? If you have an unfinished project, it counts!!

Let's see, what have I got...

Fic:

Angels & Ghosts

For Us, The Living (this is a temp title maybe)

And all the lives we ever lived (another temp title)

In Love and War (sigh)

Rhaena & Corwyn thing oh god why am I doing this

Art/Edits:

Corwyn artbreeder temp

House Zemo graphic

Ravenna shield uniform

Samantha Lyonel Countess

Sam Citadel plot for solstice or something

Nymeria map fix

Essays etc:

Bad boys of ASOIAF presentation

Demon roads, take me home

Aerea Valyria worms meta

I'm not opening my ask box at the moment, but please feel free to reply to this post with what you're interested in, or send an IM if you prefer.

Tagging, uh I'm not doing 13, @jimintomystery, @mariedemedicis, @mrsjadecurtiss, @bidonica, @draganchitsa, @weshallflyaway, and anyone else who feels like sharing!

#tag memes #wip folder meme #wips

13 notes · View notes

writerpeach · 4 years ago

Text

Hot & Cold

LOOΠΔ Kim Lip x Male Reader

9836 words

---

Read on AFF

Read on AO3

masterlist

The stars shined bright as you wandered through the downtown streets aimlessly, taking in the cool crisp air of the nighttime sky. Music filled the streets and your ears as you passed through a variety of stores, each one with its best wares on display to tempt you.

You were searching for a gift for Choi Yerim’s upcoming birthday, clueless on where to even start looking for ideas. It had been several weeks since you had been introduced to her, and while you knew a little about what her likes and dislikes were, buying the perfect gift that would make her special day seemed a daunting challenge.

The three of you were inseparable lately, spending most of your time outside of work at your favorite lunar themed cafe and the cutest barista that worked there who always threw in free drinks. Lately though, Hyejoo had spent more time than usual preoccupied with her new job until the late hours of the night, leaving you without her help and on your own for your quest.

There were the obvious choices of flowers and candy, and while you had to start somewhere those were boring choices. You wanted your gift to be special and worthy of the girl who you had spent so much time with lately, a girl who brought nothing but happiness and positivity into your life.

Walking past dozens of places, you waited for a store to catch your attention as most failed to offer anything substantial. One in particular caught your eye. Maybe it was the mannequins in the window wearing cute dresses that you easily pictured Yerim wearing, but this place spoke to you.

There wasn’t anything special or out of the ordinary as you walked in, a small looking boutique with high ceilings and bright lights, shelves filled with meticulously folded shirts and pants in diverse sets of colors, while plentiful dresses and accessories lined the walls.

You carefully looked around, not wanting to knock anything out of place as you browsed, unsure where to even begin. There didn’t seem to be anyone else in the store, which wasn’t surprising given it was rather late in the evening, approaching nearer to closing time than you expected.

“Oh, hello, sir! Welcome to Lippington’s Exquisite Clothing,” you heard a soft husky voice call out in the distance, breaking the silence as you craned your head to see a slim blonde heading in your direction.

The clack of high heels on the wooden floor grew louder with each step as she approached, her hips swaying as she sauntered through the clothing store to close the distance, forming a small smile on her lips.

When the blonde woman stepped into frame you were met with her beauty at point-blank range. It was fairly unmistakable that her golden locks weren’t natural, not that it made her any less beautiful, not a hair out of place and there must have been a lot of effort put into maintaining such a wondrous shade. You didn’t know a thing about fashion, but the black sequin dress she had on sparkled in the light, doing her small body wonders and fitting perfectly.

It seemed a little risque for a place of employment, showing off bare shoulders and barely covering up her upper chest, but you weren’t one to judge, especially when she pulled it off flawlessly. It wasn’t too tight nor was it or too short, leaving part of her body to the imagination and above else it looked expensive. You’re pretty sure it wasn’t something that could have been picked up off one of the many racks.

Her fingernails were painted dark black, something you always loved on a woman as the color matched her dress, topping it all off with a light shade of red lipstick that made her small lips pop out.

You had to snap out of your haze as you caught yourself staring, frantically darting your eyes around the store in an attempt to not appear rude.

“My name is Jungeun, can I help you find anything?”

“Ah, actually, yes. I’m looking for a present for a woman. She’s young, about your age.”

“Of course, I’d be happy to help. Is she your girlfriend?”

“Uh, not exactly. She’s a good friend of mine,” you said, stumbling over your words as true as they were. You still hadn’t formed any type of relationship with Yerim, and hearing those words out loud brought out several feelings.

The beautiful woman sensed your hesitation in answering her simple question but was eagerly happy to help anyways.

“We have several sections for women to choose from. Is there a style that you think she would be interested in?”

You found yourself caught unprepared by all her questions, even though they were just to help out. Now, whereas Hyejoo was often a sweatpants and t-shirt type of girl, Yerim loved to put in effort into her outfits, even if it was a simple trip to a convenience store.

“She wears dresses a lot. Mostly cute ones.”

“I see. Let me show you some dresses that I can help you pick out that you think she would like.”

The woman led the way as you followed, trying not to focus your attention on her backside as much as you would have liked, stopping at the front of the store in a section with several racks of dresses surrounding a giant mirror.

“Do you know what size your...friend is?” she asked, and you’re pretty sure she was teasing you. You definitely didn’t know Yerim’s size. Hell, you didn’t even know how dress sizes worked.

“No, I don’t,” you said, having a brief moment of panic. You could have asked Hyejoo, but calling her at work was an option if you could have gotten ahold of her.

“I could show you a picture of her, would that help?”

“It’s a start,” she coldly said. You grabbed your phone and looked through several pictures trying to find a suitable one that showed her body off the best, making sure to not accidentally click on the folder of private pictures Yerim had sent for your eyes only.

You came across one of your favorite pictures of Yerim, wearing a cute white flowery dress standing in front of the mirror, looking adorable as usual. You handed Jungeun your phone who stared at it intently for several moments as if she had just seen a ghost.

“Yerim…” she muttered under her breath.

“Oh, do you know her?”

“Yes,” she simply stated, handing you back her phone. “We met at Girl Front Academy and studied together for three years until we went our separate ways. I haven’t talked to her since then, but it seems she’s still sickeningly cute,” Jungeun said, and you couldn’t tell if her reaction was of annoyance or not.

“Her body isn’t too far from mine, but she’s much curvier than I am. She always had better thighs than me,” she said, and this time you could definitely tell she was annoyed as if she were lacking in the body department.

“I’ll show you a few things that should fit her.”

The smile faded from her lips as she went through several clothing racks, picking out a dress from each one that stood out in a completely different look.

“Some of these may not be her style. This one is a little frilly, and this one is maybe a little too revealing,” Jungeun said, letting you see them all. They all had their appeal, and while you could have just gone overboard and bought them all, you didn’t want to seem desperate. You needed to find the perfect dress and had confidence that this woman would help you do just that.

“I like these two,” you said, choosing one that was casual and one that was formal. Jungeun was right, one was too skimpy, too gaudy, and one was too...you couldn’t find the words but there were much better choices. They all looked nice, but the dresses left behind didn't really didn’t match Yerim’s style.

“Both excellent choices,” Jungeun said, holding them up side by side. To her left was a simple purple cocktail dress with a wide neckline and thin straps, which seemed to be about knee-length, ruffled and slightly see-thru at the base. You selfishly wanted it to be much shorter, knowing her luscious thighs being covered up was a crime but remembered this was a gift for her and not you.

The other dress Jungeun held was colorful to say the least. Lace with black at the top, dark red at the end and woven colorful fabric in the middle, equipped with a multitude of gemstones. The dress was much longer than the previous one, given Yerim’s height it would practically be touching the floor, but also had a more elegant touch to it.

To say you had trouble deciding between the two would be an understatement. Given your ignorance, you would have picked the dress on your left based on color alone.

It was a good thing you had someone who seemed to be rather informed on the subject of clothing given that it was her job as she sensed your indecisiveness as your eyes wandered back and forth.

“This one would be good for any occasion, it's thin and comfortable without being too skimpy,” Jungeun said as she held it up higher than the other.

“Now, this one is better suited to dinner parties, weddings, ceremonies, that type of thing. It’ll flatter her body more but she’ll look out of place at a cafe obviously.”

“You have a knack for this, Jungeun.”

“Ah, well, thank you,” she shyly said. “You don’t own your own store for several years without knowing a little something about fashion.”

“You own this place?”

“I do. This’ll be the third year running this place. It’s been a little dead lately, but it’ll kick back up when spring comes.”

Jungeun let out another small smile, and you’re pretty sure her arms were getting tired from holding both dresses up.

“They’re both really nice dresses, but if you still can’t decide I could help out and try them on. I may not have the body that Yerim does, but it’ll look better on me than on a mannequin.”

“You’d do that? That seems like a lot of trouble, you really don’t have to, I’m sure you have plenty of other things to do.”

“It’s not that much trouble, there’s not much else to do as you can see. Might just close up early tonight if nobody else shows up.”

“Thank you, that would be appreciated.”

“It’s no problem. I’ll be back in a bit,” she said, heading towards the fitting room in the corner, taking both dresses with her. You waited just outside the door, taking a seat on the bench not unlike the same way you had for both Hyejoo and Yerim the dozens of times you were dragged away shopping with them.

She didn’t take that long to change into the first dress, walking out of the dressing room looking ready to take the runaway.

“What do you think?” she asked, as she spun around, letting you see every aspect of her in the casual dress.

“It’ll hug her body better, but it fits me nicely. It’ll look nicer with heels of course,” she said, taking note of the fact that she was barefoot. She did look rather nice in it, the dark color offset the brightness of her blonde hair, giving a glimpse at her luscious long legs as she modeled it for you.

“I like it.”

“Don’t choose until you see the other one. I’ll be right back.”

You gave a gentle nod as she disappeared back into the dressing room, and you eagerly waited for her return wanting to see a more close up look of the other dress. You had all but chosen this dress already, the formal dress had its work cut out for it and had some stiff competition.

More time passed than was expected while you waited for her to try on the other dress, not that you felt the need to complain. Maybe she was doing something different with the second dress that required more time as you sat there patiently, wasting time on your phone.

“Hey, uh. I could use some help,” you heard her call through the dressing room stall. You got out of your seat and headed over to her direction to check it out.

“What do you need?” you asked through the other side of the door.

The woman took a second of hesitation to respond. “I think the zipper’s stuck. It won’t budge. It’s unlocked, you can come in. I won’t bite.”

You’re not sure why she added that last part, but you opened the door and stepped inside to see her back to you, the zipper caught at the top of the dress. You grabbed it carefully and inspected it, pulling it down several times to no avail as it refused to work with you, unable to move like when you woke up in the mornings. Nothing worked, and you didn’t want to be too forceful with it.

“It’s not moving.”

Jungeun sighed loudly. “I should have designed this one better.”

“You designed this dress?”

“Yes, most of the clothing in this store is my own design. Anything that’s not is from other designers I know or collaborations.”

“That’s impressive.”

“It’s nothing really, I’ve been doing this my whole life,” she said nonchalantly. “Now, if it’s not going to unstuck itself you’re just going to rip it open.”

“You want me to rip it? There has to be something here we can fix it with.”

“It’ll take too long. Just be suck it up and rip it, I can fix it later.”

“If you insist,” you said, holding on to both sides of the dress you tugged hard on it, tearing the zipper down the middle as the sounds of fabric being torn filled the room as the dress became collateral damage.

“Impressive,” Jungeun said as your attention was on the now ruined dress, the zipper all the way down and dangling off to expose her back.

“Thanks, now let’s hope this other dress doesn’t give us the same type of trouble.”

“I’ll step out,” you said, heading towards the door when Jungeun’s eyes stopped you.

”What, have you’ve never seen a woman undress before?”

“Of course I have, but-”

“But what? It’s not a big deal, but if you’d prefer to wait outside, be my guest. I won’t be long.”

Well, you couldn’t let this opportunity pass you by now.

“I’ll stay then.”

“Good. Enjoy the show.”

With your back flat against the wall Jungeun began undressing, pulling the purple thin straps down her shoulders and hesitating, teasing you for a moment as your eyes met. Taking her time, she slipped her arms out of the purple cocktail dress and slowly peeling it down her body just past her waist, exposing her tight toned midriff.

Jungeun never kept her eyes off you, inching the rest of the dress off her body and wiggling her hips until gravity did the rest. The discarded garment draped around her ankles, leaving her in an alluring pair of simple white underwear, sheer in enough places that still let your imagination run wild. It was quite an unexpected sight.

“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, trying your best to keep your mouth closed as you let out an audible deep exhale at such a gorgeous woman. Her complexion was beautiful, her skin fair and immaculate and you desperately wanted to reach out and touch her body.

“Judging by the way you can’t stop drooling over me, I’m going to guess you like what you see?”

If seeing her tight body on display wasn’t enough, she had positioned herself (perhaps even strategically so), in front of the mirror, giving you the perfect view of the white thong nestled in between her firm buttcheeks.

“Your turn,” Jungeun said, snapping you out of your trance as she placed her hands on her hips.

“What?”

“It’s not very fair for me to be the only one who’s undressed is it? Come on, I wanna see what you’re packing,” she said, her lips curling into a smirk as she crossed her arms.

Things had certainly escalated. When you walked into this store you hadn’t expected to be seeing the owner in her bra and panties, and you certainly didn’t expect you were about to match her level of nudity.

If you needed any further encouragement, her round dark eyes let you know that she wasn’t joking, and when a woman in her underwear tells you to do something you didn’t dare disappoint.

Taking a deep breath you began unbuttoning your shirt, removing each button until you had stripped it off and tossed it on the ground. Jungeun eyed your bare chest like you were a piece of meat, not unlike the way you had gawked over her earlier.

“Keep going,” she urged, and bit her lip deeply, showing her approval as you unbuckled your belt and unzipped your pants, not wasting time in yanking them off and kicked them away. It was difficult to process. There you were, standing across from a beautiful woman that owned the clothing store you had spontaneously picked, obviously ogling your mostly naked body while you were doing the same in return.

The whole series of events had gotten you so aroused that you hadn’t realized that your shaft had become full mast, sporting an unavoidable bulge through your boxers.

“Do you usually get this hard just by seeing a woman in her underwear?” she teased, as you looked down in embarrassment as your package dying to poke through, your cheeks instantly reddening.

“There’s no need to be embarrassed, it’s perfectly natural,” Jungeun said as she approached your side of the small changing room, closing the distance and cupped your crotch, causing your body to tense up.

“I’d be a little disappointed if you weren’t getting excited,” she said, continuing to squeeze your crotch through your boxers.

"How would you like it if I took everything off?" Jungeun asked, using her free hand to run her hands through her golden locks, ruffling her perfectly styled hair seductively.

“I’m not that easy, you’ll have to at least buy me a drink to get my panties off. But I’ll give you a little something to hold you over,” she said as she slowly dropped to her knees on the stack of clothes that had piled up in the middle of the floor.

Jungeun wanted one thing as she grabbed your boxers and swiftly yanked them down to your ankles, your hard cock throbbing as it was released from its frustrating restraints. Her eyes lit up in excitement as she grabbed your cock and squeezed it with a gentle pressure, delivering slow pleasurable strokes as her thumb rubbed your sensitive swollen tip, making you leak over her slim fingers.

“It’s been so long since I’ve had some good cock. Too long,” Jungeun said as she flattened her tongue against the base of your shaft, slowly drawing upward and taking her time. You let out a soft moan as her pink tongue reached your swollen cockhead, swirling around and planting a wet kiss on your tip that made you shiver in delight.

“You’re so fucking hard,” she said as her wet tongue explored every inch, lapping up every drop that escaped from your leaking slit. Her lips pressed deeply against your throbbing shaft, moving from base to tip and not letting a spot go without a wet kiss that sent tingles up your spine.

“You did this to me,” you replied, and Jungeun answered not with words but with actions as her pouty lips parted with your shaft as it entered her warm mouth, her soft lips squeezing tight around your throbbing flesh as her cheeks hollowed.

“F-fuck, that’s good,” you moaned, leaning back into the dressing room’s wooden wall, as you watched Jungeun work your cock, bobbing her head up and down as her tongue followed, playing with your sensitive underside.

Jungeun’s mouth felt heavenly, her soft cherry lips wrapped tightly around your cock as she pleasured you, focusing on the first few inches of your flesh as she enveloped it with warm and wet sensations that overwhelmed you.

“That feels amazing, d-don’t stop,” you said, as the blonde woman who was practically still a stranger never ceased her oral assault on your cock. Her warm lips left a trail of warm saliva as you felt more of her throat, watching the deep lust in her eyes as she slowly sucked you off.

Shortly after you felt Jungeun’s mouth pushing deeper, her full lips sliding down your wet shaft with ease, distracting you and making you forget everything else. Jungeun wasn’t kidding as she seemed to be deprived of the taste of cock as she hungrily slurped on your shaft, voicing her satisfaction in giving you such a wonderful blowjob.

You couldn’t just stand there and watch the action unfold as you ran your fingers through Jungeun’s pretty blonde hair, guiding her movements as you placed a hand on the back of her head. She took the hint in stride, taking more of you down her throat as she gave your shaft deep satisfying strokes from base to tip, sticking her tongue out to please every inch of you she could.

“Jungeun…fuck,” you moaned, unable to control yourself any longer and grabbed a handful of hair, forming a tight fist around a makeshift ponytail as you used it to assist her into a faster rhythm that she didn’t seem to mind.

You kept Jungeun’s mouth busy, using her ponytail as your personal set of reins to force her mouth to the very end of your base repeatedly, using her mouth without mercy. She gave no sounds of discomfort, if anything she voiced the opposite as she slobbered all over your needy shaft, covering it with her messy drool as her throat was kept filled.

You kept this up for as long as you could, savoring Jungeun’s wet and hot mouth and occasionally gave glances towards the mirror to distract you with her delicious backside as the sounds of her slurping on your cock filled the room that caused you to moan even louder.

“F-fuck, Jungeun, I’m about to cum,” you said, releasing the tight grip you held on her hair as it fell back onto her beautiful shoulders.

“I wonder what you’ll taste like,” Jungeun said as she withdrew your cock from her wet mouth with a loud pop, using her tongue to frantically trace around your swollen tip, pushing you even more over the edge.

Jungeun could sense your climax wasn’t backing down as she took control of your cock, furiously stroking it as she opened her mouth and stuck her pink tongue out as she prepared to finish what she started.

You were almost there as your breathing shallowed, every long stroke from base to tip Jungeun gave your shaft made your balls tighten even more, her tongue flicking against your dripping slit to expedite your impending orgasm.

“J-Jungeun, I’m cumming!” you cried out as her grip tightened, her eyes laser-focused onto you as your throbbing cock shot cum directly onto her wet tongue and into the back of her mouth as she emptied you.

Multiple thick spurts of cum fired from your tip that caused you to moan with need, each feeling better than the last as a milky white pool collected on Jungeun's wet tongue as she worked your shaft, making sure to drain your balls thoroughly.

Jungeun made sure she squeezed out every drop as she kept her mouth open, making a show of swirling your fresh load, sloshing it around before she closed her mouth. You watched the beautiful sight of Jungeun's throat gulping as she swallowed it all.

“Not bad, I guess,” she said, displaying her now empty pink tongue and licked her lips, sucking the sensitive tip of your depleted shaft to make sure there were no more remnants left, forcing a reaction that made your entire body shake.

Jungeun stood back up and gave your cock a few final strokes, making sure she kept a tight grip with every twist that drove you crazy.

"Okay, get out,” she abruptly said, as you leaned back against the wall in exhaustion.

“W-what?” you replied, trying to catch your breath as you picked out which clothes were yours from the discarded pile.

“I have to close this place up, it’s late and there are a lot of things that have to get done. You can leave after you get dressed.”

“What about the dress? I still need to buy Yerim something.”

“You can pick it up tomorrow, I'll hold it for you. You wanted this one didn’t you?”

“Y-yes, it’ll look good on her.”

“No, it’ll look great on her. We close at ten, show up anytime before that.”

“Can I at least get your number?”

“Ugh, fine I guess,” she said as you dug your phone out of your pants that you hadn’t bothered to put back on.

“Hope you enjoyed that. I don’t do that often, I just felt bad,” she said as she keyed in her number into your phone.

“You felt bad? That must be why I can see that wet spot on the front of your panties, Jungeun,” you said, and she quickly broke eye contact, embarrassed by her obvious enjoyment.

“You can let yourself out.”

Jungeun grabbed her clothes and left without another word, giving you one last glance at her perfect rear as she left the dressing room. You got dressed in a rush, not wanting to stay any longer and excited the clothing store, still feeling the fatigue setting in.

✦✦

Work kept you at the office longer than you had planned to be, which always seemed to always be the case, something that couldn’t be helped. After finishing tedious paperwork and last minute preparations for the next day you didn’t step out of the building until roughly after nine p.m and headed straight towards Jungeun’s clothing store, not bothering to change your clothes.

You made your entrance as quiet as possible, which wasn’t that difficult given she was finishing ringing up a customer as patiently waited for their transaction to finish up, casually browsing the clothing selection in the meantime.

“Didn’t think you were going to show up,” you heard, the unmistakable husky voice of Jungeun as she approached your area of the store. Her outfit was a little less flashy today, wearing a tight white top that showed off the outline of her breasts and very short jean shorts that showed off her amazingly long legs.

“Had a lot of work to finish before I could come here.”

“I know that feeling,” she said as she grabbed the purple dress you had decided on from behind the register.

“Don’t worry, this isn’t the same dress from yesterday, that one has been repurposed. This size should fit her, but if it doesn’t feel free to return it.”

“I’m sure it’ll fit her just fine. You know what you’re doing,” you said.

“I’d like to think so. You can go ahead and swipe your card now.”

“It’s cheaper than the price tag was yesterday,” you said as you inserted your card back into your wallet, putting in your pin number and completing the transaction.

“I threw in a discount. Think of it as a present from me to Yerim,” she said, batting her eyelashes as her lips formed a sweet smile.

“Thank you, Jungeun. That was very generous of you.”

“It’s not what you think. I’m just doing this as a favor, I don’t like you or anything,” Jungeun said as she bagged your gift for Yerim and handed it to you.

“I’m sure she’ll love it. Have a good night, Jungeun.”

You took your next step but before you could even finish placing your foot down Jungeun grabbed your wrist, keeping you in place.

“Aren’t you going to buy me that drink?” she asked, gently squeezing your arm with her small hand as you looked down at her pretty fingernails.

You didn’t typically drink on a Thursday night, but you also didn’t typically get a blowjob in a dressing room from a beautiful woman. It’s not like you couldn’t use it either, work continued to pile up and you hadn’t even had a chance to depressurize from it all.

“Okay, I’d like to buy you a drink, Jungeun.”

“Good, because I could certainly use one. Maybe even two.”

“I know the perfect place.”

“I’ll need to finish up here, looks like nobody else is showing up so I can get started on closing. Send me the address, I’ll meet you there in an hour.”

✦✦

Just a little over an hour later you pulled up a chair in a familiar place, taking a seat at the counter in your favorite dive bar you had been to dozens of times - both yourself and with the company of Yerim and Hyejoo. Taking a look around there was both familiarity and a lack thereof to the place.

New paintings had been hung, the walls painted with a fresh coat paint that made the place pop, and the rickety wooden stools had been replaced with fancier black ones, adding a hint of sophistication to the joint. It still needed tons of work but it was a start.

“Hey stranger. Haven’t seen you in a while,” you heard a distinctive deep voice speak out, one that could only belong to your favorite bartender Heejin. Your eyes met as she flashed a beautiful smile as she wiped down the counter.

“Work has kept me away from this place,” you said, as Heejin’s lips formed a deep out on her features. It was difficult to see in the dim lights, but her hair had been dyed a lighter shade of brown, making her more beautiful than the last time you came here.

“You here alone? I’m used to seeing you with those two cute girls,” she said, putting up bottles of alcohol and restocking clear straws on the counter.

“I’m waiting for someone. Met her yesterday.”

“Ooh, how exciting. Tell me all about her,” Heejin said as she leaned forward, capturing your attention.

“I don’t know that much about her yet other than she’s a fashion designer. She owns her own clothing store downtown by the pier.”

“Wow, that’s impressive. I’m sure she’s lovely. Can I get you started on anything while you wait?”

“I’ll just take a beer for now.”

“Coming right up!”

No more than a few seconds later Heejin placed down an ice cold mug directly in front of you filled to the brim with just a touch of foam. You slipped a few dollars in her stuffed tip jar, earning an ear to ear grin as she excused herself.

Moments later the seat next to you became occupied, the familiar perfume wafting through your nostrils that could be one person, Jungeun.

“Sorry I’m late, I had some last minute customers I had to deal with,” she said, placing her large purse on the bar counter in front of her.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. I’m glad you could make it,” you said, taking your first sip of beer and wiping the foam from your lips.

“This place is a bit of a dump, isn’t it?” Jungeun bluntly said, not mincing her words.

“I don’t come here for the atmosphere.”

“Why do you come here then?” she asked, as Heejin came back and bent over to grab something off of the lower shelf, her tight pants doing her body justice as she flashed a smile as she rose up.

“Oh I see why,” she said, letting out a loud chuckle as she covered her mouth with her hand.

“That’s not it,” you insisted. “I like the drinks here. It’s not as bad as it used to be.”

“Well, I’d hate to see how bad it looked before,” she said, rolling her eyes as she signaled Heejin over.

“Hi there! What can I get you?”

“A glass of red wine please.”

Heejin was nothing but diligent and before you could blink Jungeun was inspecting her half-filled glass of dark red wine, determined to find something wrong with it before indulging. For some reason she didn’t seem like a wine girl to you, but to be fair you didn’t know much about her other than she gave a spectacular blowjob.

“You’ve slept with her, haven’t you?” Jungeun said out of the blue, swirling her glass around before taking her first taste.

“What?” you said, nearly choking on your malty beverage.

“The cute girl with the brown hair. The way she looks at you makes me think she’s done more than serve you a drink,” Jungeun teased, crossing her legs.

You sighed loudly. “What are you a mind reader? Yes, I may have seen her naked on an occasion...or three.”

“No, it just seemed rather obvious. Who you sleep with isn’t my business though,” Jungeun said, and you swore there was a hint of jealousy in her tone as she swirled her drink in the dim light and watched the red liquid sloshing around.

Jungeun looked around, unsatisfied at what she saw. Clearly she was used to a higher stand of establishment. Her wine glass was already half-finished, she quickly threw her head back and poured the rest down her mouth, and you can’t say you ever saw someone drink wine like that.

“I’m tired of this place. Let’s get out of here.”

“We just got here-”

“And I know a better place we can go that doesn’t have bad music. ”

“Where exactly would that be?”

“My apartment,” Jungeun replied, flashing seductive bedroom eyes.

“If you were that eager we could have just skipped this part.”

“What, and miss out on a free drink? That’s the only reason I showed up.”

“Oh, and here I was thinking it was because you enjoyed my company.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself. I-It’s not like I wanted you to fuck me,” Jungeun said, making a show out of fixing her hair as she left her chair and grabbed her purse.

“I’ll meet you outside, thanks for the drink.”

Jungeun became harder to read with every minute you knew her. One minute she was batting her eyes and flirting with you and touching your shoulder, the next she barely seemed interested in you. It didn’t matter too much as you just had a personal invitation to her place and that was your golden ticket. You had barely touched your drink but that didn’t seem as important anymore as you paid your tab and left Heejin a generous tip as always.

“Guess someones getting lucky tonight,” Heejin teased as she waved goodbye, and you weren’t quick sure what you were getting yourself into.

A short ten minute taxi ride and you were following Jungeun up a set of stairs and waiting for her to unlock her apartment door.

“It’s not much, but it’s cozy,” she said as she bent down to remove her heels as you slipped your own shoes off and gently placed them carefully on the ground.

“I’ll give you a quick tour,” she said, gesturing for you to follow her as you took a quick look around. The living room was small but decorated with various paintings and a white leather couch big enough for multiple people, with small black throw pillows on either end. Underneath the glass coffee table was a huge blue rug and a pink makeup pouch left behind.

“Here’s the kitchen. I don’t cook much,” she said as her bare feet walked through black marble tile floors that looked spotless. It wasn’t the fanciest kitchen, but you would have loved to make a meal here sometime. In the center was a small kitchen island and a few stools, the counter wiped clean and a bowl of delicious looking fruit that you couldn’t tell was fake or not.

Jungeun led you past the kitchen as you looked at the various appliances she had gathered, a high-end blender caught your eye that rivaled those you had seen at cafes.

“Here's the bathroom,” she said, a huge assortment of various types of makeup lined the counter, once again perfectly clean as if she was expecting a visitor. Her shower was quite spacious, it was definitely the first time you’d seen one large enough to have two showerheads. The wall was patterned with black tile that contrasted nicely with the rest of the white bathroom.

“Last stop,” Jungeun said as she took several steps ahead of you, giving you the chance to take in her body as her hips swayed and you watched her long legs.

“And this is where you’ll be fucking me,” Jungeun bluntly said as she stopped at her bedroom.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Miss Jungeun.”

“And why’s that?” Jungeun asked as she took a step towards you, closing the distance as she placed her hands on your shoulder.

“Who says I’m going to fuck you here? You’ve got a nice kitchen, a living room…”

Jungeun leaned in and planted a deep kiss on your lips, the taste of her lingering as she pulled back and you could see the lust in her eyes.

“You’re convincing me.”

“Then let me convince you a little more,” she said as she spun around on her heels and walked away from you, disappearing into the bathroom and shutting the door, leaving her out of sight. She didn’t spend much time inside, dramatically opening the door and came out in a luxurious white bathrobe as she appeared back in view.

“You should have a seat for this,” Jungeun said with a mischievous smile on her features as you did as instructed, taking a seat on her bed and feeling her silk sheets as you leaned back.

Jungeun made sure she had your full attention as she slowly began to untie the cotton belt around her waist, opening up as she draped it off her broad shoulders as it fell to the carpet underneath her.

The sight displayed in front of you was nothing but breathtaking, causing your jaw to drop as Jungeun’s perfect tight body was dressed in the sexiest pair of lacy red lingerie that left very little to the imagination.

“Red looks amazing on you.”

“It happens to be my favorite color,” Jungeun said, as your eyes feasted on her stunning body, unable, nothing could lose your focus. The dark red color contrasted perfectly with her milky skin. Her breasts were pushed up nicely, showing off her wide hips and delicious legs that never seemed to end.

“Are you just going to sit there and stare, or are you going to come touch me?”

That was the only invitation as you lifted your body off the mattress as your hands were practically magnetized to her body. You started at her thighs, feeling how soft they felt against your palms as you moved to her deadly hips, nothing but satisfied at how good they felt to grip.

You couldn’t help yourself one bit as you snaked around her waist and squeezed her ass with both hands, pulling her towards you and grabbing as much as you could, thankful for the fact that Jungeun loved to wear skimpy thongs. Your palms were full of her soft flesh as you kneaded them, giving her beautiful backside a loud slap that echoed and made her gasp.

“F-fuck,” Jungeun said, her words light and airy as you moved to the front of her body, up her toned midriff and up to her chest, squeezing her perky breasts through the annoying piece of fabric keeping you from them.

“Jungeun,” you said with a lowered voice as you tempted her with the idea of kiss, tilting your head as you licked her neck and whispered in her ear.

“I’m dying to fuck you.”

“P-please. You’re making me so wet,” she whimpered desperately as you buried yourself in the crook of her neck, sucking on the soft skin there with no intention to stop. Jungeun was giving herself to you in no time, letting out soft erotic moans as you nibbled on her beautiful neck.

“God, you’re so gorgeous.”

“T-thank you,” Jungeun replied as her cheeks blushed a shade of faded red as she anticipated what was next.

“Can I take this off?” you asked as you slipped a finger underneath one of her bra straps, as it practically screamed to be let loose.

“Y-yes, please take everything off me. I want you to see every inch of me.”

Her voice was just the ticket you needed as you found the clasp of her bra and unhooked it, keeping eye contact with Jungeun as you slipped the thin straps off her shoulders and tossed it out of view.

Your pants tightened as you saw Jungeun’s exposed breasts for the first time, small yet powerfully perky, not unlike Yerim. You gave several teasing licks on her nipples, causing a series of whiny moans to leave her lips as you focused on one breast, pinching the other as your lips slurped and nibbled freely.

“G-god, just fuck me already,” Jungeun begged, and it seemed she didn’t share your patience in wanting to take your time with her.

“You need it that bad?”

“Y-yes. I want you to ruin me,” she said as she looked at you doe-eyed, lips quivering as she wanted to give herself to you fully.

“I’ll be happy to then,” you said as you tilted her chin up and gave her lips one deep tender embrace, rubbing your hand across her soft cheek.

“Hold on, one more thing,” Jungeun said as scurred into her huge walk-in closet and disappeared inside it. She emerged after a few moments with something unseen in her hands as she came back into view.

Jungeun grabbed your wrist and flipped it around, dropping a bundle of red braided rope onto your palm as she shyly smiled.

“What do you expect me to do with this?” you asked, playing dumb as you felt the soft fabric of the rope.

“I want to be tied up and fucked. What else would you do with it?” she asked, biting her lip in anticipation.

“Only if you want to of course,” she added.

“I want to,” you said. You definitely wanted to. You had Heejin to mostly blame for unlocking this side out of you.

You stared into her eyes intently for one intense moment before abruptly grabbing her hips and spinning her around, admiring her naked back and her barely covered asscheeks. Jungeun’s breath hitched as you grabbed her delicate wrists and pulled them behind her back, wrapping them both in beautiful red rope as you bound them together tightly,

“Too tight?” you asked, resting a hand against her toned back and caressing her skin.

“Not at all,” she replied as you spun her back around as your eyes met, and you couldn’t help but smile that Jungeun was now at your mercy. You took advantage of this right away and roamed her body with your hands, squeezing her breasts and moving downward as you brought two fingers against her clothed heat, confirming the wetness of her cunt that was soaking through her panties.

“Safe word?” you asked as pressed two fingers against her clothed core as her legs twitched.

“Eclipse.”

“Good, then let’s get started,” you said as you helped her lower to her knees as she pressed into the carpet as you began undressing, scattering clothes around Jungeun’s body until you were left in your boxers. Your bulge poked through the material desperate to be freed, a stark reminder of the previous day

“Look what you did, Jungeun,” you said with a smirk on your lips, admiring her half-naked body as she was at your whims. Her skin grew warmer as she knelt patiently as you removed your underwear, slick dripping down her thighs and making the only piece of clothing left on even wetter.

Jungeun admired your cock with a hunger like no other as you grabbed it and slapped her pretty face with it, letting her suck your swollen tip for several seconds before removing it, causing a cute pout to form on her features.

“Don’t be greedy,” you said, caressing the side of her cheek and watching the need in her eyes.

You couldn’t help admire how pretty Jungeun was as you rubbed her soft lips with one finger, and without asking she instinctively sucked on your fingers sensually. She had a wanton need for anything inside her mouth as her lips and tongue wrapped around your fingers with the same amount of desire she had given to your cock.

Jungeun slurped hungrily on your fingers as you pushed them in deeper, moving past both knuckles and creating a slow rhythm as she gagged but her eyes begged for more as you felt her warm messy saliva seeping everywhere, making a mess everywhere.

You waited just a little longer, letting Jungeun continuously suckle on your fingers until you felt she had enough, wiping her leftover saliva down her neck and chest as you gave her stiffened rosy nipples one more pinch.

“That’s all you get for now,” you said as you helped her stand upright and lifted her frame onto the bed. Jungeun did what she could to assist as you positioned her on her knees with her ass raised as her face plopped down on the sheets, resting her chin on the mattress.

You took your position behind Jungeun’s bent over body, the thin piece of fabric nestled between her ass being the only barrier between you and nirvana. The flimsy piece of underwear was almost as dark as blood but did little to hide the wet spot soaking through, and it was hard to focus your eyes on a single part of her tight body, or the way her hands were tied behind her back.

Your hands explored Jungeun’s backside, her skimpy thong was a poor excuse to cover up any skin as you fondled her cheeks. You almost didn’t want to remove such a daring garment from her body, it looked too good on her. The thought occurred to push it to the side, giving you the best of both worlds but your animalistic urges took over instead as you grabbed the thin piece of fabric and tore it right off her body.

Jungeun gasped loudly as you tossed the ruined pair of underwear away, every inch of her body now exposed for you and all it took was one look down at her beautiful pink pussy to make your erection even stronger than you thought was possible.

Taking one more look down, Jungeun had already spread her legs for you as you grabbed your shaft and lined it with her entrance, rubbing her pink pussy lips with your swollen tip as you felt her wetness collecting on it.

“P-please, just fuck me, already. Use me!” Jungeun begged, which only motivated you to keep up the teasing, slipping yourself dangerously close to entering her and withdrawing at the last moment just to hear her whimpering moans.

“F-fuck, please!” Jungeun continued to plead, and you felt a hint of pity for her desperation and nudged yourself against her pussy, the heat radiating off her body begging you to enter her.

Just a few more seconds of teasing was all you could take - you needed her just as bad, and in one perfectly smooth movement you popped your hips and entered her, both of you overwhelmed by a hundred different sensations.

“Oh god,” Jungeun said as you moaned simultaneously, watching your tip being swallowed up by her suffocatingly tight pussy. You took a moment to let it all sink in before moving, the initial warmth and wetness surrounding your cock taking your breath away.

You didn’t remember how long you took, it could have been just a few seconds or several minutes to get used to the intense sensations as you started thrusting inside Jungeun, her silky warm flesh clinging tight as you grabbed her hips and found a rhythm, picking up speed gradually.

“F-fuck, your cock feels so good, stretch my pussy out, p-please ruin me!” Jungeun begged, her naked body at your mercy. There wasn’t much point in taking your time when both of you wanted the opposite, Jungeun’s intoxicating warmth enticing you to not keep your sluggish pace for long.

With a bruising grip on her satisfying hips, you no longer felt the need to be gentle with her and intensified your pace with every stroke, bottoming her out every time as her delicious cunt squeezed your throbbing shaft, keeping her pussy plenty filled.

The rhythm grew and grew as did the lust and desire in the room as your hips hurled against Jungeun’s ass, leaving the harsh sounds of flesh smacking against flesh that was music to your ears.

“P-pound me, f-fucking pound my pussy,” Jungeun said, her words now muffled into her pillows as your pistoning hips gave powerful thrusts as deep as you could fit your cock.

“I need to hear you, Jungeun. You’re so wet, you like being fucked like this?” you asked, grabbing a rough handful of golden hair and tangling it around your fingers, tugging back on it harshly to free her head from the comfort of her pillows.

“F-fuck yes, please keep using me!”

Her lustful words washed away any worries you were being too rough with her as you gripped a fistful of hair tighter, keeping her head upright as her pussy clenched in approval. Jungeun moaned even louder as your vigorous thrusts continued, her juices spilling out of her cunt so freely as the arousal was heavy in the air.

Jungeun’s moans turned into loud husky screams as you kept a handful of pretty hair clenched, pounding into her hole carelessly as you glanced down at her bound wrists and releasing one of your hands from her hips and without warning slapped her tight ass.

Her flesh rippled hypnotically, encouraging another slap to her behind on the other side as her walls pulsated in response.

“Harder, make it hurt,” Jungeun said, a mixture of demanding and begging and you weren’t going to back down as you winded back your arm and swung hard against her cheeks, the delicious echo of your palm striking her cheeks until the color began to match the restraints around her tied wrist.

Jungeun let out deep satisfied moans after each smack against her now tender flesh, the clench of her cunt matching the rhythm of your forceful strikes of her backside. The color of her cheeks grew darker and tears formed in her eyes from such pleasurable pain. WIth every few slaps you gave her sensitive red flesh a squeeze, rubbing out the sting until you upped the impact of flesh on flesh.

Your only regret was you were unable to see the satisfaction in Jungeun’s gorgeous eyes, but if the way her pussy was dripping all over your cock you knew she was loving every second of it.

Giving Jungeun’s bright red cheeks a break, you used your hands to explore what skin you had access to, running your hands up and down her back, feeling the sweat dripping off it as you fucked her mercilessly, the hard smack of the headboard slamming into the wall with every thrust.

“Does that feel good, Jungeun? Do you like being fucked like a little slut?”

“Y-yes, I love when you fuck me like a toy, please don’t stop,” Jungeun said with strangled words, too lost in the pleasure to think of anything else.

You released the grip on her hair, letting strands fall to her shoulders that stuck to her sweaty back as you prepared for your next step, grabbing her hips and pushing her down until she was flat on her stomach and her knees pressed into the sheets.

Your thrusts came fast and loose as your legs were spread onto either side of Jungeun's body as you fucked her senseless in this position, able to achieve a deeper sense of penetration that drove you crazy.

It didn't take long to become unhinged, your pace wild and reckless as you held on to the sides of her ass for leverage, slamming repeatedly without any concern as the room filled up with her needy moans.

"Oh my god, you're so deep! Fuck me just like this, please fuck me just this, oh fuck, oh fuck!"

Jungeun's cries threw gasoline on the flames of passion as you used more power in your hips, and you were content to make sure she couldn't walk for a week as you railed her into the mattress.

You swore the bed was about to give out, and you didn't give a damn and only focused on the hot dripping flesh you were spearing yourself into.

"You fuck me so well, holy shit! I'm so close!"

“Good, cum for me you greedy slut. Cum all over this fucking cock,” you said, as sweat drenched your forehead, the air in the room growing harder to take in. Jungeun could barely remember where she was, her mouth constantly agape as drool spilled out of her lips, moaning breathlessly as the fire in her abdomen grew and grew.

“Ah! I-I’m cumming!” Jungeun said, barely able to form words at this point, powerless to do anything else. Her pussy pulsated uncontrollably around your shaft as you kept the same relentless pace as she creamed all over you, the warm flood of juices spilling onto your crotch as she came hard, toes curling behind you and her thighs visibly shaking.

Jungeun let out a slew of profanities as her orgasm hit her like a train, and you didn’t let up one second and fucked her through every intense second, the loss of her limbs to grab hold of anything drove her insane as her labored breathing filled your eardrums, every moment of pleasure almost causing her to black out.

“H-holy shit,” Jungeun managed to say as her high gradually faded, the aftershocks in her body firing off every so often that she could hardly catch a breath, her thighs flushed and stained with slick, overflowing on her silk sheets underneath your sweaty bodies.

Jungeun’s wonderful orgasm came to a close, and now it was your turn as you grabbed her bound wrists and held them tight, steering yourself towards your much needed bliss as you gave it your all. Her pussy was so deliciously wet after her climax, lubricating your harsh movements inside her thoroughly fucked cunt and sending spikes of pleasure everywhere throughout your body.

You gave her the final pounding she deserved, her pussy stuffed with every inch of hard flesh as you moved furiously inside her, wringing out all the pleasure out of her body that you could take until you felt that familiar and welcome tightness in your core that signaled the end.

“Jungeun, I’m about to fucking cum,” you growled, endlessly fucking into her warm hole to coerce your orgasm on a path to pleasure with no brakes.

“Cum wherever, on me or in me, please just cum for me,” Jungeun said, and you took no time to figure out just where you wanted to do that.

Savoring the final moments, you gave a few more hammering thrusts into Jungeun’s body before you withdrew from her warmth, pulling her up and helping her off to the side of the bed as she took position on her knees, her arms still tied behind her as she anxiously awaited the finale.

You had Jungeun just where you wanted her as she had the biggest grin on her features as you stroked your cock from base to tip, and she knew just where your load was going and licked her lips.

“Are you going to paint my face?” she asked, already knowing the answer as you stroked furiously in response, planning on using her as your canvas.

“Give me your cum, please cum on my face, please. Cover me in your thick load, please please please, cum all over my face, I need it so fucking bad,” Jungeun desperately begged, her needy words being the one last thing that set you off.

It took less than a few strokes for you to erupt as you unloaded all over Jungeun’s gorgeous face. You let out loud satisfied groans and fired your first thick shot of cum that landed on her forehead, ending up in her disheveled hair.

You emptied your balls all over her cheeks, her full lips, her cute nose and chin as you squeezed out every last drop, not letting anything go to waste as her face was covered in pearly white, the look of satisfaction in her eyes as you were drained.

Jungeun licked what she could, frustrated with her hands still tied up and out of commission as the mess you had just deposited on her stunning face began to drip down slowly, spilling off her chin and onto her chest as you collected yourself and tried to regain your breath.

She had never looked more beautiful.

Jungeun leaned forward as you guided your cock one more time into her mouth as she cleaned you off, gently sucking your sensitive tip dry with your load staining her face. You took one more moment to admire your handiwork before untying her wrists.

“You okay?” you asked as she regained the use of her hands, the first thing she did with them was to stroke your softening cock, giving one more wet kiss.

“I’m great now,” she said, heavily breathing as you exchanged tired smiles.

“You really covered me. I don’t think I’ve ever felt such a huge load,” Jungeun giggled as you sat on the edge of the bed, nearly collapsing on it.

“I only have you to blame for that,” you said.

“I’ll go get cleaned up. You can join me if you want, or you can rest here. Either way you better be ready for another round,” she said, slow to stand upright as she turned into her now ever familiar pose, her hands on her hips with a stern look in her eyes.

“You’re insatiable, Jungeun,” you said, still struggling to find your breath again.

“N-no, I’m not. It’s not like I enjoyed your cock inside me,” she scoffed, spinning on her heels as she disappeared into her bathroom.

You still felt the tingles of your intense climax as you looked around the room, sinking into the sheets and wondered what else she Jungeun wanted, or rather what she wanted you to do to her.

You’d just have to be patient and find out.

#loona smut #kim lip smut #loona #kim lip #reader insert #kpop smut #male reader #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #kim jungeun #kimberly lippington

401 notes · View notes

peterrparrkerr · 3 years ago

Text

Gun kink - read on ao3

I wrote this for fifi. They helped me come up with this idea.

*-*

"Oh, hello Mr. Stark, I got your coffee!"

Tony glances up from his folder with lab results to see the gangly young man walking over excitedly.

He's wearing his usual outfit -a pair of brown tweed trousers and a cream button down long sleeve. His outfit is never complete without a sweater vest, and today's is tan with brown edges and stripes across his torso in blues, purples and oranges.

The poor thing has a stack of folders in his arms, balancing a four coffees on the top -which wobbles precariously as Peter makes his way through the busy lab.

"You know you can make multiple trips?" Tony asked, smirking pulling at his lips as he sets his own folder down to grab the coffees.

Peter blushes, glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose. "Yeah, but then the coffee would get cold, and I might forget which folders to get," he says.

Tony reaches forward without thought, pressing his forefinger into the frame of Peter's glasses, right over his nose, and pushing it up.

Peter's cheeks turn dusky pink and he mutters an embarrassed "thank you."

Tony takes a step back, clearing his throat before setting the coffees on the table before offering his hand for the folders.

"What do you have for me?"

Peter blinks, processing Tony's question before he jolts into movement. "Oh, yeah, this one here is for the Extremis test trials."

A folder is handed to Tony. The older barely has any time to flip through it before Peter's pulling out another folder -almost losing them all in the process- and slapping it over the one Tony has.

"This one is for the new arc reactor power station, tech said they found a bug in the coding and wants you to look into it before bringing it to the board."

A third folder is handed over. Tony can't help but chuckle lowly at how awkward and frantic Peter is as he flips through his stack, looking for which folder he needs.

"These need to be signed or Mrs. Pepper said she was going to shove her heel up your -ahem- uh, your butt."

His cheeks burn redder and Tony's smile widens. Damn the kjd sure was cute.

"And these ones are all internships, job applications and test subject forms," Peter concluded, adding the rest of the folders into Tony's arms.

"Thank you, Peter," Tony hummed, looking down at the folders. "I'll take a look at these when I get a moment-"

"Oh, yeah, I can take them to your office," Peter rushed.

"Thats alright- oh, okay, uh, thank you," Tony grunts as Peter grabs the stack of folders again, holding them to his sweater vest and using his shoulder to push his glasses up his nose again.

"You're welcome, Mr. Stark," Peter grinned before making his way to Tony's office.

Tony returns to his lab results, frowning down at the graphs.

"We're going to have to fix these numbers," Tony muttered to Bruce in passing, pointing to the red jagged line ascending up the front page.

"If we want to start human trials with this new vaccine we're going to need to figure out what's happening with-"

"Oh, yeah, I'll take a look at it and get back to you," Bruce hummed, tapping his finger on the page. "I didn't realize those numbers were so high."

"Me neither," Tony scowled, snapping the folder closed and dropping it on the desk.

He goes back to work with the other employees, checking over progress and fiddling with his own projects.

He's lost in his own world when the lab door opens, the doorknob slamming into the wall behind him.

"Tony Stark!"

Tony scowls and lifts his head, only to blink at the man standing in the door.

He's wearing a bomb jacket, rigged with what looks like enough explosives to take down this half of the building.

The lab employees are all out of their chairs, some on the floor, others pressed into the wall. Tony can't move. His throat closes -he can't breathe.

"You murdered my wife," the man growls. The hand holding the detonator wavers, his grip white knuckled.

"I-" he can't get his words out. He knows he's got to. He knows he needs to de-escalate the situation so security has time to grab him, but Tony can't.

He can't do anything but stand there with wide eyes.

"Drop the detonator."

Both Tony and the man turn to the voice, and Tony's eyes widen when he sees Peter.

His ever present grin is replaced with a scowl, eyebrows furrowed and there's a glint to his eyes that make Tony shiver.

"If you shoot me I'll blow this whole place up," the man snapped, crazed eyes turned towards Peter.

Peter -the goofy intern who tripped over his untied shoelaces and stuttered and blushed. Who was standing there, calm, cool and collected.

Tony hears one of his employees let out a whimper.

"You don't want to do this," Peter said, all playful lilt gone from his voice. "Its not worth it."

The man's thumb moves towards the red button and Tony feels his breath catch.

"My wife died because that man-" the man waves the detonator at Tony, making his heart drop with how careless he's being with it. "Refused to treat her."

Tony takes a small step back, heart in his throat.

"Put the detonator down," Peter ordered again.

"No," the man sneered.

It happened in slow motion. Tony watched as the man's thumb lifts, hovering over the red button.

He hears the shot ring out, hears his employees scream in fear. Tony watches as the man's head snaps back -he didnt even see the bullet.

Blood dots his forehead, and then his knees are buckling and he drops like a rock.

Peter's the first to move, gun still aimed at the bomber. The detonator is taken from his hand as carefully as Peter can.

Seconds later, security shows up. Employees rush out of the room using the service door to the staircase.

Tony's stuck in place, still trying to process it all. Peter's talking with the security team while they wait for someone to take care of the body.

He doesn't know how long he stands there, but he jolts when a hand presses to his arm. He turns his head to see Peter looking up at him with concern.

"You okay, Mr. Stark?" He asked, not removing his hand. Tony blinks and gives a nod, mouth dry. "Lets go to your office," Peter suggests.

Tony nods again, managing to unstick his feet from the floor and following Peter to his office across the floor.

"Who gave you a gun?" Tony manages once they're safely in the office.

Peter glances at his waist -where Tony can see the gun peaking out under his sweater vest- and then up to Tony.

"Oh, uh, no one, its mine."

"You just- carry a gun?" Tony asked, dropping into his office chair with a huff.

"Its my job," Peter shrugged. He leans against the desk, thighs brushing against Tony's knee. "I was hired to be your personal detail."

Tony blinks. "What?"

"Yeah," Peter shrugs again, pushing his glasses up his nose again. "Mrs. Pepper was worried someone might be after Extremis so she hired me to keep an eye on you when you weren't out and about with Happy."

"You're a bodyguard," Tony deadpanned.

Peter grimaced a little, ducking his head. "Yeah," he winces, running fingers through his hair. "I'm sorry I lied to you. Its just that Mrs. Pepper said it would be better if you didn't know, and she's kind of scary."

Tony huffs a laugh at that. Peter's been a little afraid of Pepper since he got hired on.

"I just-" he starts, taking a deep breath. "I can't see you as part of a detail."

Peter gives a rueful half smile, crossing his arms over his chest. "Is it because I wear glasses?"

Tony can't help the bark of laughter that shakes his shoulders. He shakes his head before waving his hand at Peter.

"No- its all of you," he said. "You're dorky and you trip on air and fumble everything. I don't exactly picture you as a gun weilding bodyguard. No offense."

Peter shrugs, pushing his glasses up his nose again. "What do you picture me as?" He asked, leaning further back against the desk.

"A dork, honestly," he huffs. Peter laughs this time, sharp and light all at once. "Is this all a cover? The clothes and the awkwardness?"

Peter's cheeks turn red and he ducks his chin in embarrassment.

"Would I be cooler if it were?"

Tony blinks, then huffs a laugh and grabs Peter by the front of his sweater vest.

"You've got a gun in your pants, I don't think you could be more cooler," he confessed, pulling Peter off the desk.

The boy goes easily, allowing Tony to tug him onto his lap, cheeks turning redder and redder.

"I could wear a leather jacket," Peter offered, voice breathy as he settles on Tony's thighs.

"No, I like the sweater vests," Tony hummed, brushing his nose against Peter's cheek. His hands grip Peter's sides, one brushing against the gun at his hip.

"Are you gonna kiss me?" Peter asked, voice a low murmur.

Tony shivers, squeezing Peter's hips as his lips ghost over the younger's.

"Are you going to use that gun on me if I do?" Tony questioned, cock hardening against his slacks. Peter whimpers, hands sliding under Tony's lab coat to grip his shoulders.

"I might," Peter breathed. Tony surged forward at that, kissing Peter filthy and feeling the gun digging into his side as Peter melted against him.

#marvel #tony stark #peter parker #ironman #starker #spiderman #my writing #ao3 #SFSummerBingo21

74 notes · View notes

theplanetprince · 3 years ago

Text

Amity Park Anomalies || CH.1

Fic: AO3 | FFN

Fandom: Danny Phantom

Characters/Relationships: Wesley Weston, Dash Baxter, Sidney Poindexter

Fic Summary: Local paranormal Skeptic Wesley Weston aka Atlasdunked and paranormal enthusiast Dash Baxter aka Hisdudefriday discuss and explore the issues plaguing their town. Amity Park is a hotbed for supernatural activity, and who’s to say that’s all there is? We follow two amateur investigators trying to uncover the monsters under your bed, and the things that go bump in the night. They answer the questions you’re too afraid to ask.

Chapter Summary: Wes and Dash start the first episode of their podcast with a bang with the mysterious circumstances involving Sidney Poindexter and his doomed class. Content warnings: Chemical poisoning, mentions of cancer, mentions of animal harm, mentions of mass murder. Mild Language. Ratbag Teens being Ratbags.

“You don’t know Amity Park unless you know tragedy. And for tonight’s unfortunate and unforgettable soul, he was well acquainted. Every Casper High Freshman knows about the haunted locker and its occupant Sidney Hershel Poindexter. Welcome to the first installment of… of…?” Dash covered his microphone, glancing over to his cohost. The skinny ginger was spinning a basketball on his middle finger, looking unimpressed.

The quarterback whispered-yelled, “What name did we decide on?”

The fellow jock gave a taciturn smirk. The basketball player mouthed, ‘Ghostbusters.’

Unamused, Dash Baxter pouted. He should have known that the ginger would be unhelpful. Too late to recast now; Kwan was already nice enough to demo the equipment. He didn’t want to bother him anymore. Apparently, it was Scrabble night. Wes wasn’t a bad candidate by any means, a little full of himself, sure. Wes needed a hobby. In Dash’s professional opinion— Wes was… dull. The only reason why Wes was available was that he literally had no life outside of the basketball court. From playing together, Dash knew Wes played the game somewhat selfishly, not passing and risking fouls to make impossible shots. They had gotten into spirited debates on away games if Amity Park really was cursed. Dash thought they were engaging conversations, sure. When the quarterback approached Wes about this project— he had surprised Dash by agreeing to it. Though quickly, he said he was mostly in it to prove definitively that ghosts were not real. So really, this was all just a big bet to see which one of them would cave first and admit who was right.

Hurriedly, Dash uncovered his mike, “Welcome to the first installment of Amity Park Anomalies!”

The readout peaked and blew out in sync with the quarterback’s voice crack.

The shooting-guard leaned into the microphone before cooly stating, “Tentative title.”

He then pressed a button on the sound effect board, prompting canned studio audience laughter to exit the speakers.

Shake it off, Baxter, shake it off.

He dragged a folder across the desk, introducing, “Uh, hi. My username is His-dude-Friday. For simplicity’s sake, you can just call me Friday, I guess.”

His cohost snorted, “Oh yeah, anonymity. Like all six people listening in aren’t gonna know who we are.”

Finally fed up with his attitude— Dash smacked the back of his cohost’s head. The sound of the basketball hitting the floor and rolling away also appeared on the audio readout.

“Alright! Jeez! Hey, my username is Atlas-dunked, but all you—” The ginger waggled his eyebrows suggestively, “Lovely, lovely, people out there in cyberspace can call me Wes.”

Wes poked another button on the soundboard, eliciting a sound effect of swooning girls.

“I apologize for him,” Dash mumbled. He opened one of his school folders containing some of the black and white low-toner print-outs of articles he grabbed from the library. Doing some last-minute organizing of his research material, the quarterback posed a question, “So Wes, what do you know about Casper High alumnus?”

“For those of you at home, I’m putting my hand on my chin.”

“Rather smugly, I might add,” The football player remarked.

After a pause of the basketball player looking towards the ceiling with a mock-pensive expression, Wes chuckled, “You got me; I don’t know my Casper High lore as well as someone on the student council. Enlighten me.”

Wes took off his headphones, and they clattered against Dash’s desk. He tracked down the dusty ball that wedged itself under Dash’s bed.

Dash fanned out his papers and selected his first one, “Some accolades under our high school’s banner include: Crazy Carl of Crazy Carl’s Used Car Lot? Graduating class of eighty-seven.”

“Wow— Fascinating .”

Slightly irritated, Dash picked up the microphone stand. Reaching towards Wes for his comment, he asked, “Say again? I don’t think the mike got it.”

“I said that’s so interesting. I am practically moist.” Wes sneered, kicking his ball free.

Baxter chuckled, albeit still disgusted, “Dude— C’mon, take this seriously.”

“Then tell me something serious!” Wes exclaimed, glaring at one of the posters on the wall— it was some german horror movie Wes had never seen before. He had no desire to either. The basketball player should have known Dash had a pretentious side. Wes guffawed, “I know we aren’t talking about Crazy Carl actually going crazy.”

“It’s called building suspense!”

Wes blinked at the soulless monster on the poster staring down at him. The monster was very clearly a man in terrible make-up. You could see where the brush missed parts of the actor’s face. Parts of the pale make-up were coming off with the sweat and studio lights—fake plastic teeth jutting out of the actor’s mouth. The basketball player was trying to assert dominance over a poster in a staring contest no one was having. Why couldn’t Dash be a normal red-blooded American male and have busty ladies adorning his walls instead? No, Dash had to believe in the absurd like vampires, ghouls, and ghosts—

The poster told Wes everything he needed to know about Dash Baxter. Dash could only handle scary if he could turn it off. If the fear was completely artificial. If the fear was something he could justify with reality. Dash has never been truly scared in his life. The quarterback had never been face to face with something that genuinely made him ponder his little time left on this rock of a planet. Wes was going to change that. Wes was certain Dash didn’t actually fear the paranormal because Dash, deep down, knew that it was all fake. In the meantime, Wes was going to annoy the shit of him too. Really that was just a signing bonus.

Wes spun his ball in his hand, idly— before sauntering back to the desk with a grin on his face, putting his headphones back on. The headband cracked with Wes’ exaggerated and deliberate movements. Wes leaned and curled around the basketball resting on his lap, “Continue, Dashell.”

“Thank you.” The quarterback said. He took a moment to adjust his sitting position, and he shook out the muscles in his arms before getting back into his flow. Dash tapped the next passage, “Mr Burkowitz of the Amity Park Video rental, he graduated in the late seventies, went into the navy…”

“Oh apparently, Author Stephen H.G Phillips graduated class of seventy-seven…” Dash began, hopefully. He then folded over the articles he stapled together, starting at the top of the next page, “before he was found dead in his manor outside of town in his late twenties.”

“Ouch.” Wes was half tempted to hit another sound effect on the board, but Baxter shot him a disapproving glance.

“Let’s see…” Dash inched his finger along the page, squinting between the blobs of letters, “Famed petty crook, Jeremy Tris— Trisdek— It’s something greek. Jeremy Trisdeka is all I’m gettin’. He dropped out in nineteen-eighty-three before getting hit by a train on the run from the cops after he shot his foster father in cold blood. He would have been nineteen at the time of death, but reportedly his foster parents tried putting him through high school despite him only having a sixth-grade education.”

Okay, slightly less boring. Wes could agree on that. The shooting-guard nodded, stifling a laugh, “I heard something about that guy; he thought he was playing cowboy against ol’ Johnny law… well until he was pancaked. He walked the line until he could walk no more. He fought the law, and the locomotion won. He—”

“Are you done?”

“One more?”

With a sigh, Baxter acquiesced, “Fine. Go ahead.”

Wes snatched the microphone off the table before the quarterback could change his mind. He snapped his fingers before butchering a well-known gospel tune, “JERAMAIAH WAS A BIKER— HE WAS A DEAR FRIEND OF MINE. I NEVER UNDERSTOOD A SINGLE WORD HE SAID BECAUSE HE GOT FLATTENED BY THE A-LINE.”

“That was Wes,” Dash threw off his headphones and steepled his hands in front of his nose, “Proving that he doesn’t have a face for television or a voice for radio.”

“Hey, at least my vocal cords are done growing, okay?” Weston pushed Dash’s shoulder, “Lest ye cast the first stone who is without judgment.”

“Just so we’re clear. We’ve barely cracked the lid on the story I wanted to cover and so far—” Dash began to count the offenses on his fingers, “You have mocked two dead people, butchered a beloved song, got up and wandered away— I’ll add misquoting the bible to make fun of me to the list.”

“That isn’t the bible, you ignoramus.” He sat up and raised a brow.

“... I will fact check you live, and I don’t want it to come down to that, Wes.” Dash readjusted the volume on his headset and put them on again.

While gesturing, Wes knocked his knuckles against Dash’s computer monitor, “And what are the dead guys gonna do to me—? They’re dead! I’m alive. I’d say I already have a head start.”

“Actually, that gives me an excellent segue.” Dash pointed to his computer, a knowing smile inching across his cheek, “On your side of the desk, I already loaded up the Casper High library register. I want you to tell me if you notice anything weird about the page.”

“I can tell you about four things that’s weird about your computer. Firstly, what’s with the carebear stickers?”

“Just read the screen!” Dash stole the basketball from Wes’s lap and bounced it against his cohost’s forehead.

“Alright! Keep your shirt on— jeez!” Wes rubbed his face bitterly as he analyzed the webpage for anything unusual. Really it was poorly designed. Comic sans everywhere it didn’t need to be. Big grey windows with clashing saturated school colors. It’s a graphic designer’s nightmare. Weston murmured this observation into the recording device. It was open specifically on the reference section, the search was narrowed on Casper High yearbooks. Begrudgingly humoring the charade, Weston narrated his findings as he scrolled, “...Casper High nineteen-sixty-four, Casper High nineteen-sixty-three, Casper High nineteen-sixty-two—”

“You wanna read that back to me one more time?” Dash tapped the monitor.

Wes glowered at the request before fixing his gaze back on the computer. He went down the list again. The covers weren’t anything particularly special for the era. They were undoubtedly more well thought out and purposeful than the Casper High website. They were hardback books bound with a faux leather material embroidered with the Casper High colors, purple and red. The crow logo was either stitched in the center or lower right corner. The quality has certainly gone downhill with the budget. Noticeably the stitching on the books and the binding was more noticeable after nineteen-sixty—

“There’s a gap here,” Wes finally said, turning to Dash.

The knowledgeable look the quarterback had plastered on his face deepened with his lack of response. With a flick of his fingers, Dash rolled his wrist, signaling for Wes to continue.

An odd sensation pooled at the bottom of his chest. It pulled at his lungs. However, he couldn’t identify the source. Slowly Wes articulated, “Th-there is no yearbook for nineteen-sixty-two.”

“Mhmm.” Dash hummed and leaned to the microphone with a sing-songy tone, “ Do you wanna know why? ”

“It’s obviously some kind of clerical error,” Wes dismissed; The ache in his lungs did not abate. The shooting guard refreshed the page, “there’s nothing otherworldly about someone checking out an old yearbook.”

“See, that’s what I thought at first, but I checked it out in person, and there was a huge supply of donated yearbooks— like hundreds— from the three years behind nineteen-sixty-two.” Dash rolled across his floor, being careful of the tether to his computer. He retrieved his backpack and dropped a stack of dusty tomes onto his desk, “Practically bursting out of the storage boxes. So you have hundreds of copies of Casper High years nineteen-fifty-nine to nineteen-sixty-one. Like there’s a sarcastic amount of documentation about these three years, but nothing about sixty-two.” Dash concluded with complete confidence, “It doesn’t exist.”

“It doesn’t exist?” Wes replied incredulously. Scanning the covers of each book, fifty-nine through to sixty-one, sixty-three, seventy-seven, then finally eighty-three. Raising a brow, he squinted at his acquaintance. The expression on his face read as someone trying to find the kindest way to call someone a moron. Obviously, the sixty-two yearbook had to exist. That was indisputable.

Sensing Wes’ reservations, the king jock took a thin book from the center of the pile. Dash began to thumb through it, “Maybe at one point it did exist.” The plastic-coated pages gave a satisfying crack as they were peeled apart, “But according to the library, it doesn’t. According to the trophy case, according to the school records— the year nineteen-sixty-two did not happen .”

Dash slid over the thin laminated paper-back. This book in question was the yearbook for nineteen-sixty-three. It was significantly gutted compared to the years prior. It matched the website image and description. It was a cheap flimsy thing stapled together— much like Dash’s instant print notes. It had a checker and jack pattern with dots scattered on the cover. It was the cheapest one in the bunch. There wasn’t much in terms of padding, just pictures noticeably for maybe seventy or so students for a single freshman class, no sophomores, no juniors, no seniors. There was nothing about the clubs or extracurriculars. It was comparable to something a rural elementary school would produce. The quarterback was positively buzzing, “The messed up part about this, comparing sixty-three to sixty-one. None of these freshmen are the same. We don’t know where these kids went. Arguably they’d still be around three years later, right? They would’ve been seniors—” Dash was impassioned about this oddity, “but they’re not there!”

Wes opened the sixty-one yearbook and pinched his fingers around a large section of the pages to find the freshman pictures. None of them matched. At first glance, it appeared what Dash was proposing was true. That something happened to the class of sixty-two. However, Wes wasn’t about to make any declaration like that any time soon. He’d sooner eat his own sneakers before admitting Dash Baxter was right about anything.

“The school probably closed down or something.” Wes shut the book, “There were riots around that time. Vietnam? Ring any bells? They probably didn’t have enough staff to distribute around the district.”

“Face it,” Wes couldn’t help but chuckle at how riled up the quarterback was, “For every one fantastical option, there’s thousands of perfectly reasonable mundane explanations.”

Furrowing his brow, Dash emphasized his point, “For one year? They would close down the school for one year?”

Prying up his sweatband, Wes stole a look at his watch, he yawned, “I imagine you’re about to tell me why?”

Mistaking Wes’ impatience as genuine interest, Dash clapped his hands together, rubbing them in anticipation, “I’m glad you asked!”

“Oh god, here we go.”

Shoving Wes’ chair back, Dash crossed his torso over the desk, the fabric of his shirt rubbing against the microphone. He switched tabs on the window from the school’s library to the public library. Dash zoomed in on digitized snippets from the local newspaper, The Amity Park Herald. Date: December fourth, nineteen-sixty-one. The headline?

Flirting With Disaster— Household Cleaners Deadly as Mustard Gas!

“So, the theory you’re pushing is that there was a custodial mishap of epic proportions.” Wes snickered, wiggling his fingers, “Spooky.”

Sitting back in his chair, the plastic wheels creaking under the weight, Dash picked up his pencil and wedged it between his headset and ear. He jutted his jaw towards the monitor, “Keep reading.”

There was something about the way Dash’s eyes lit up. He was looking past Wes as if he was using Wes as a vessel to experience this second-hand eureka. Baxter’s vindication only steeled in the face of Weston’s mockery.

Local housewife Shirley Poindexter, found face down in her sparkling clean bathroom by her son. Black curly hair matted to her face, she had sustained a head injury upon losing consciousness in her unventilated water closet. She split her forehead open, blood trailing down the tile and down the bathtub wall and circling the drain, still covered in her cleaning solution. A homemade concoction of vinegar and bleach. Her glasses were found in her closed fist, implying that she had a few moments of lucidity before slipping into a permanent sleep.

“I just thought that she had fainted,” Her son’s statement reads, “I wake her up before I go to school every morning; she looked like she was… asleep. She seemed at peace.”

Shirley Poindexter was known as a delight to her neighbors and the winner of the city-wide cherry pie-making contest. Her birthday was a week away. She would have been thirty-nine. Her funeral and wake will be open casket due to the intact state the body was found in.

“... the autopsy revealed that Poindexter was carrying a tumor in her frontal lobe; therefore, she may not have been thinking logically when she combined the two cleaners.” Wes scrolled to read more, but the page cut off and went into an advert for the Amity Park bowling alley, then known as the Foxtrot.

“What does this have to do with anything?” Wes getting the idea that Dash wanted him to read fucked up shit on live air for jollies, “It just sounds like a classic case of ‘let’s give you heroin for your cough.’ Like sure, it’s screwed up— whatever, but—”

“But Shirley was Sidney’s mom!” While Wes was captivated by the article, Dash had opened the sixty-one yearbook in the juniors’ section. He circled the subject in red ink. A monochrome photo of a rather unfortunate-looking boy. Overbite, with two buck teeth that stuck out from under his top lip, greasy hair that fell limply above his ears, cystic acne scars, and blemishes. Coke-bottle glasses tapped up the center. The name beside the photo: Sidney H. Poindexter.

Wes did not want to give the impression that he was rattled by what he read, “What is your obsession with this kid, dude?”

“He was rumored to be the most bullied kid in Casper High history.” Dash pointed to the picture before flipping into the photos of the activities and clubs. Sidney could be seen in the background either being hassled or sitting by himself with a notebook, “There’s still graffiti in the bathrooms dedicated to mocking him, decades later. There were rumors of his family being connected to the communist party— these kids were trying to ruin his life and get him arrested or worse!”

Talk about bad luck. The guy’s mom died, and everyone still gave him a hard time? Still clinging to the idea that this was all some sort of misunderstanding, Weston snorted, “Spend a lot of time in the bathrooms, do you?”

“Ha. Ha. You’re hilarious.” Dash closed the book and climbed across the desk again. His chest nearly draping on top of Wes’ head. Switching the tabs, he found another article reporting on the rise of poisoned cats and other animals after Shirley’s death.

As if to corroborate the two pieces of information, Dash pulled up an image file on his computer from a scan he pulled from the sixty-one yearbook. Sidney was cleaning up after a chemistry experiment with bleach and an unmarked bottle, “It was noted that Sidney’s strongest subject was science, and he was allergic to cats.”

Wes blinked, dumbfounded by how large of a leap Dash was making, “Oh no, I’m allergic to cats!”

“You can’t deny that this is sort of an…” The king jock picked his nail scavenging for the right word, “Angle.”

“Yeah,” Wes nodded his head, “its angle that occurs when a football player with too much time on his hands finds a bunch of events that barely have a connecting thread. What are you suggesting? This guy… killed his entire class in some sort of mass chemical poisoning? And no one found the bodies— and no one reported it?”

Dash crossed his leg at the thigh, “I’m not suggesting anything— but Sidney is the only one of the class of nineteen-sixty-two with a death certificate. Allegedly he was found stuffed in a storage locker, having died of asphyxiation.”

“That’s an awfully big word for you.” Picking his teeth, Wes remarked under his breath.

There was a moment of silence as both boys turned their heads, hearing a freight train in the distance. Its horn blared in a constant unending shape until it passed over them.

The quarterback cocked his head towards his acquaintance, “Could you at least give me the satisfaction of telling me that it’s weird that both mother and son died of suffocation?”

Coiling the cord around his finger, Weston inched the microphone over to his side, “I’ll say this. You know how to tell one hell of a ghost story. But that’s all.” Wes made sure he wouldn’t be misheard, “a story.”

In the dim light of Dash’s red lava lamp and pale blue tinged computer screen, Wes wanted to make sure his mischievous grin was woven into his words. Dash stared down at him, realizing that this was a lost cause.

The doorbell rang—

Well, not wholly lost. Takeout, when you didn’t pay for it, was always delicious.

Dash removed his headphones again, “Did you get the extra eggrolls and gyoza like I asked?”

Wes yawned once more, this time for real, “Yeah, man!” He inched forward to the edge of his seat, “God, we’ve been sitting here for forever, my ass is numb— Sweet and sour pork here I come! If you even touch that crab rangoon, though I can’t be held responsible for what I’ll do to you.”

Realizing they were still, in fact, recording— Dash pressed one ear to his headset and snatched back the mike, “Uh, thank you all for joining us tonight for Amity Park Anomalies. This has been His-dude-Friday and—”

Wes pushed Dash away, scooting over to take his place, “Atlas-dunked!”

Quickly Weston smashed the applause button, “Also, this is totally not a sponsor, but the Duck Factory?” the second jock gave a kiss into the microphone, “To die for. A thousand chef kisses— tell your friends. Ghosts aren’t real, deuces!”

Shaking his head, Dash shoulder-checked Wes away from the recording station. He rolled up to the desk and punched the stop. The audio then appeared on to his desktop. The live viewer count only seemed to be three people. More accurately, two once Dash remembered to factor out his computer tuned into the audio stream. Not a bad night at all.

#danny phantom #dp #fic #wes weston #dash baxter #sidney poindexter #txt

35 notes · View notes

avaritia-apotheosis · 3 years ago

Text

Phantom Children Ch. 6

Hi guys! I'm back <3 (also, I'm currently looking for alpha/beta readers for Phantom Children, so if you're interested, feel free to shoot me a message!)

In Which: Danny Attempts to get Answers, Bruce Learns, and Dick Finally Learns What's Inside the Door that Doesn't Exist

AO3 | Prologue | 5 | [ 6 ] | 7

DANNY IS KNOCKED DOWN three, four, eight times on the ice. Each time made his back ache, his bones bruised and tired, and his mind burning with embarrassment and a drive to lash out. But each time he gets back up. Each time he lasts a little bit longer against Talia.

The ice still shifts, cracks and rumbles with every wrong move. Danny learned to roll with it. Move on light feet but attack with a firm stance, gauge which parts of the ice are stable and which should be avoided. Multi-tasking has never been Danny’s strong suit, but he’s good at learning and learning quickly.

Talia corrected his form as much as she beat him down. Exploited every one of his openings until he learned to defend them and praised him whenever he managed to pull one over her. The League’s martial arts was the holy amalgamation between almost every single fighting style there is, mashed and refined to perfection to become almost unpredictable to the untrained. A vast improvement to Danny’s previous ‘fuck around and see what works’ brawling and had the added benefit of meshing together with his spontaneity.

“You are doing well, Daniel,” Talia said as she sheathed her sword, hand resting just above her hip. “You have improved greatly in such a short time, as I have expected.”

It takes every ounce of Danny’s superhuman energy to not collapse to his knees, his every breath a ragged shudder as he tries to get his breathing under control. “Still can’t beat you, though.”

“Very few can boast that feat.”

“I’m not exactly sure if that��s supposed to make me feel any better or not. Do I get my prize at least?”

Tahlia tossed her braid over one shoulder with a laugh. “Come, then, let us rest in the caves. The sun is to set soon and we must make camp before we freeze to death.”

“Hypothermia is so last season. I’m way too cool for that.”

He didn’t know whether to be disappointed that Tahlia didn’t react to his pun. It was pretty clever, in his opinion.

('Puns are the lowest form of comedy,' said mind-Jazz.

Says the one who named the Box Ghost the ‘Crate Creep.’

'That’s alliteration, not a pun.')

It was kind of pathetic that even his mind-version of Jazz was smarter than him.

“What would you like to know first?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Sarcasm dripped from Danny’s voice. He sheathed his sword and let it hang loose at his side. “Maybe how old this mysterious brother of mine is?” Ancients, his life was weird enough already, it wasn’t supposed to sound like the B-plot to a bad soap opera.

“Damian is younger than you by a little over four years. He will turn eleven this year.”

“Huh. Never been an older brother before.”

“Perhaps you might have been, if circumstances had been different.”

Cryptic. Great. Danny stepped over a particularly large crack in the ice and scampered over to solid ground. “You gotta give me more than that. What’s he like?”

“Prideful,” she said. “But skilled enough to warrant it. He was raised like a prince—as how you should have been.”

“And he lives with…our dad?”

“Yes. In America.” The cave was deep enough to shield them from the worst of the eventual mountain winds. Tahlia had already started building a campfire with equipment from her knapsack, embers eating away and growing into a steady flame. He sat down, legs crossed, beside the fire, hands tucked beneath his armpits.

He bit his lip, a question forming in his mind. “Do…do we have the same dad?”

Tahlia looked up at him. “Of course. Only your father has had the privilege of being called my beloved, and only he is worthy enough to have sired my children.”

Once night fell, it fell quickly. Blanketing as far as Danny could see from the mouth of the cave in a thick darkness. Snow fell from the skies in thick tufts and covered their footsteps.

“Does he—do they know about me?”

“No, they do not.”

“And you probably aren’t going to tell them anything about me, if you could help it.”

“That is very perceptive of you, habeebi.”

“You won’t tell me anything more about them, will you?”

“In due time, I will.”

Danny blew part of his fringe away from his face. Figures.

Despite the ever-present niggling at the back of his mind, Bruce had yet to see what was in the flash drive. The weeks since his strange meeting with Vlad Masters suddenly exploded with criminal activity with the recent breakout in Arkham and the brewings of another gang war in the shadows of Gotham’s paved streets. It was all hands-on deck. And Bruce, whether as Batman or Wayne, had always prioritized Gotham and its citizens over anything else.

The flash drive remained on his person despite the crisis, tucked away in one of the sturdier compartments of his utility belt to prevent the data inside from becoming damaged. Sometimes he found his hands gravitating towards it, fingers brushing against the button that would release the mystery from its confines before he realized what he was doing and steeled himself. Hands fisted to his side and attention forcibly directed elsewhere.

Eventually, the rogues were placed back into Arkham, and Gotham let out a shuddered breath of relief as it remained standing for another day.

Most of the family were out on a light patrol, cleaning up the remains of the breakout and helping where they can. Jason and Dick bickering over the comms whilst Barbara laughed in her clocktower.

(“It’s not that bad.”

"‘It’s not that bad’—shut the fuck up.” Jason spat. Bruce could hear him revving his bike. “You’re a fucking idiot, you know that? Certified Grade A idiot. B’s gonna kill you.”

He could hear Dick roll his eyes. “Sure, pile it all on, Jaybird. Blame the victim.”

"It was your fault.”

“It’s not my fault I didn’t see it there!”

"You tripped and got a concussion. From a stick. A. Stick.”

“Can we please just leave that out of the report?” Dick groaned. Barbara laughed. “Oh god.”

“Richard motherfucking John Grayson. I swear if you vomit on me then—”

“I’m not gonna vomit on you! You just turned the corner a little too fast. It’s nice to see you care though.”

"Fuck no, I just don’t wanna smell like regurgitated cereal.”)

Damian was benched from a patrol. Their last conflict with Poison Ivy ended with Damian sticking a bad landing and twisting his ankle. He dealt with it with as much grace as can be expected. Meaning that he spent the last few days sulking as he caught up on his missed schoolwork and shooting daggers at everyone else who came back from patrol.

Bruce flicked the flash drive open and plugged it into the computer. The flash drive contained only a single folder dated six months ago.

He clicked it, and a news headline popped up.

LOCAL TEEN DIES AFTER DRIVING OFF CLIFF

Beneath it, a picture. Blue eyes. Black hair. A familiar face.

Blood pounded in Bruce’s ears. He could hear nothing except a sharp gasp from Damian behind him.

When Dick and Jason arrived at the batcave, it was to an eerie silence. Not that it was usually loud, only that Bruce spent most of his free time down in the cave and Dick had come to expect hearing some signs of him around. Typing on keys, the clicking of a mouse, the heavy thuds of a fist meeting a punching bag or a training dummy, etcetera, etcetera. Or maybe even Alfred cleaning up around the cave, feeding the bats, or restocking their med bay.

(Dick, it turned out, didn’t have a concussion. Probably. Not a severe one anyway. What mattered most was that he managed to convince Jason to have dinner at the Manor. Alfred was making a tarte tatin for dessert tonight and those were absolutely to die for. )

One of Tim’s cases took him to the other side of Gotham. The only person in the cave was Damian, who was staring agape at the batcomputer.

“Why the hell is the demon spawn looking at old pictures of Bruce? We get it. They look alike.

“Uh, Dami? What’s up?”

Damian snapped his mouth shut. “I believe it might be best if you asked father that, Grayson.” Despite his clipped tone, there seemed to be little anger in his voice. His proud shoulders were hunched over on the chair, eyes trained on his lap.

He looked so small.

Damian clucked his tongue. “He’s upstairs, if you need him. So is Pennyworth.”

Dick shot a glance at Jason who raised his hands in mock surrender. “You’re up golden boy. Whatever the fuck the old man’s problem is this time, I’m not dealing with it.”

Dick sighed. “Fine.”

There was a door in Wayne Manor that didn’t exist.

When Dick was a child and recently adopted by Bruce Wayne, one of the first things he did was explore the manor. It’s the prerogative of every child that somehow found themselves in a large mansion—even more so given the castle-like exteriors of Wayne Manor. All castles have secret passages, and if the Batcave lay in the subterranean depths below, then surely the manor proper must have its own secrets.

Dick would tumble and cartwheel along the hallways, opening any and every single door he came across. A lot of them were just empty bedrooms or unused parlors and sitting rooms; the furniture covered by white sheets to keep the dust away. Alfred was probably magic, but even he can’t keep the entirety of the manor dust free.

The majority of the unused rooms were unlocked.

Except for one.

It was a room in the west wing, on the second floor. A couple doors down from where Bruce’s and Dick’s were. Why it was locked, Dick never found out. But he was curious since it was the only room on that floor that remained shut.

When he asked Alfred about it, the old butler only said that it was an unused storage room they preferred to keep locked just in case. When he asked Bruce about it, he’d be quick to change the subject. Usually something Batman related. Which, well, always worked, because it was Batman related. And Dick, young and spry and itching to fly under Batman’s wings, would quickly forget about that curious little mystery in favor of punching bad guys in the face and flipping over rooftops.

At some point that locked door quietly disappeared, leaving a blank expanse of wallpaper and a decorative vase where it once stood. It was never brought up again. And Dick slowly forgot that it was ever there in the first place.

Until now.

The wooden table and vase were shoved off to the side. Wallpaper sliced away to reveal the lines of a doorway. The door, covered in its faint damask wallpaper, was kicked open, the wood around the bolt splintered and cracked. He could hear voices—Alfred’s and Bruce’s—speaking softly on the other side.

He pressed his back against the wall and kept his breathing quiet.

“Three times, Alfred.” Bruce’s voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. “Three times she’s done this to me.”

“Master Bruce…”

“I don’t—I don’t understand why—” Bruce choked, swallowing a shuddered breath. “Damian, I can understand. Jason, I can too. But…This? I—” Bruce suddenly quieted. Dick knew the jig was up.

He unlatched himself from the wall and slowly slid through the once-hidden-door, a hand kept on the frame. “Um. Hi, Bruce? Alfred?” The words fell flat, stilted. Dick winced as he said them. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but, uh…” He trailed off the second he registered what was in the room.

It was large, as so many rooms in the manor were. The room was covered in peeling green wallpaper with faded pictures of baby deer and owls and other woodland creatures prancing about. There was a dresser on one wall. A shelf filled with little picture books and stuffed animals on the other. A brown teddy bear had fallen on its face on one of the shelves.

In the middle—where Bruce was hunched over—was a crib. The wood streaked and aged with time, the beddings within pristine and untouched, if not dusty. Hanging overhead was a mobile with little animals dangling on a string.

“Worry not Master Dick. It is good that you are here since it will inevitably involve the rest of the family at some point.”

Dick nodded absentmindedly, trying to lock eyes with his guardian. “B? What’s—what’s going on?” Dick took one step deeper into the room. “The pictures in the cave. I thought they were you since they were too old to be Damian—” Bruce’s hands on the crib’s railing flinched.

Dick’s breath hitched.

“They’re…not your photos, are they.”

Bruce took a deep breath in, the lines of his shoulders tense. “No. They’re not.”

In their line of work, the answer could have been anything. Clones, magical doppelgangers, alternate universe counterparts, hell, even just someone’s genetic code being coincidentally similar to another person. But…this room, this nursery, pointed towards only one conclusion.

“Who is he, Bruce?”

Bruce angled his head towards Dick, unshed tears glimmering in his eyes. “He’s my son, Dick.

“He’s my son.”

#danny phantom #batman #danny phantom x batman crossover #dp fic #phantom children.txt

52 notes · View notes

blackacre13 · 3 years ago

Note

Debbie as the teacher and Lou as the student part2 ?

It's crazy to say that this will actually be part 7, but here you are! Part 6 here if you need a refresher!

“Uh, hey,” Amita whispered, tossing Lou an awkward smile as she slipped into the office and took the seat beside her. “Debbie said she’d just be a minute.”

Lou nodded to herself, rubbing her sweaty palms against her slacks.

“Does this happen a lot?” Lou whispered, nodding her head towards the door.

Amita sighed, digging into her backpack for some papers, handing a folder to Lou.

“Not until recently,” Amita admitted. “How much do you know?”

“Not enough apparently,” the blonde chuckled. “I brought up Dr. Becker’s name and she practically turned feral.”

Amita glanced at the door again. “You and I are gonna have a looooong talk,” she grinned. “Least I can do before I hand over the ropes completely, but the short story? She dated Becker when they were both professors. Broke his heart. He got tenure over her. Then department head. He lores it over her like the asshole he is. I don’t know the sordid details of their whole affair while they were dating, but the aftermath has been a hot mess. They disagree on everything. And well, his last blowup mysteriously happened around the time Debbie was hooking up with a Poli Sci professor.”

“Who was it?” Lou swallowed, still selfishly trying to determine whether her guess had been correct from the start.

“I forget her last name,” Amita huffed, waving at the air. “Rachel something.”

Lou grinned to herself, nodding her head.

“Drama for sure.”

“Oh you don’t know the half of it,” the brunette laughed. “Wait til he finds out she chose you as her TA.”

Lou looked up at her in confusion, her palms suddenly sweaty again.

“Why would he care about that?” Lou asked slowly.

“They’re just both always after the best,” Amita shrugged. “I’d predict a bloodbath over you. Plus, he gives her shit that she’s never chosen a male student to be her TA in almost a decade.”

The knob turned, the door whipping open, Debbie storming through it before either of the younger women could utter another sentence.

“Ladies,” Debbie sighed, striding around to the other side of the desk and slamming her coffee down. “Mita, where’s that bottle of Baileys I told you to hide from me?”

“On it,” Amita laughed, standing to dig through the bookshelf beside her before handing the liquor bottle to Debbie.

Lou watched in both delight and awe as Debbie unscrewed it and threw back a pull of it before pouring some into her coffee.

“Figured Lou wouldn’t be subject to this until you’d passed the torch,” Debbie grinned sheepishly. Lou was absolutely smitten with whatever the hell was happening, but she wasn’t quite sure how she played into it quite yet. “But Becker is in rare form.”

“Isn’t he always?” Amita sympathized, passing a folder across the desk. “Does he know about Lou yet?”

“Not yet,” Debbie hummed, taking a sip from her coffee as she pursed her lips. “Don’t want to give him any more ammunition than he needs.”

“Anyway,” Amita smiled softly. “You both have my first attempt at lesson plans for next month. As you’ll find out, Lou, Dr. Ocean will let you take the reins once in a while and take a stab at teaching if you want or preparing the lesson yourself and having Debbie ghost teach it so you can see how the students would react to your plans. So be prepared to be disappointed in class next month,” she laughed.

Debbie opened the folder, thumbing through it with a smile. “Nonsense,” she grinned. “This is good, Mita. Seriously. I’ll read through it and give you some edits and fine tuning, but I think you’ve got the hang of it.”

“Thanks,” Amita blushed.

“Now, Lou,” Debbie smirked, spinning towards the blonde. “An official welcome to our little mess of a life. We’ll ease you in slowly. As you know, Amita graduates in January so you’ll take over as my full TA then for all of my classes. Right now, you’ll remain my student in your art history course business as usual, but you’re free to shadow myself and Amita as a sort of secondary TA with any of my other courses that fit your schedule.”

“It’s like a casual crash course,” Amita added. “You’ll get some amazing mentorship one-on-one with Debbie and feel prepared for the new semester before it starts. You get to watch the job as a student and behind the scenes. And then, you get me to spill all the hot tea you need to know away from Debbie. We even get a lunch and coffee budget,” she winked.

“And then you tell me all the tea that she tells you,” Debbie chuckled before sticking her tongue out at Amita. “But that’s pretty much it. You’ll get plenty of time with me. The job is hard work as you know, but you’ll get a hell of a mentor out of it if I do say so myself. But Amita will be the one mainly coaching you and amping you up. She’s got a lot of knowledge to pass down before she moves on.”

Lou nodded, trying to absorb everything all at once. The dynamic from student pining over professor to interview candidate to favorite candidate to suddenly watching Dr. Ocean as the casual Debbie drinking coffee with liquor joking around with Amita was making her practically dizzy. But, it was distracting and overwhelming enough for her to momentarily forget that she’d thought about Debbie in the shower this morning or that she’d painted her again, busy thinking back to their shared cigarette moment where she’d tried to get a hint of what Debbie smelled like and how her smile crinkled her cheeks and eyes just so

“And of course, you’ll have to send me your schedule so I know a good night to take you to dinner to congratulate you.”

Lou froze, blinking, looking at Amita for a response.

“Lou,” Debbie chuckled. “I mean you.”

“Me?” Lou asked, pointing at herself.

“Of course,” Debbie smirked. “Have to wine and dine you before I make your life a living hell.”

“Working with you is the furthest thing from hell,” Lou laughed, but she was suddenly overheated, as if she were on fire, especially between her thighs, tugging at the collar of her vest uncomfortably as she realized that in the very near future it would be Debbie, across the table from her, one on one. It was practically a date.

Lou was in deep shit.

29 notes · View notes

talesofstyles · 5 years ago

Text

Happy Anniversary

look, we all need lawyer harry in our lives. and we need to shag him in his office at least once. this piece is a mix of pure filth in his office and cute dad harry moments with his little girl at home. anywaay i’ll just shut up now. hope you lot like it! xx

[4k]

Balancing two cups of coffee and a yellow folder in your hands, you stride off the lift and onto the 30th floor of your building. Your own office is just two floors below on the 28th, but you have a meeting scheduled on this floor in about twenty five minutes and you thought it would be nice to surprise your husband before you head to the conference room together. To maintain your professional image at work, both of you don’t make it a habit to pop into each other’s office even though you work in the same building unless it’s absolutely necessary, but today you thought you’d make an exception since it’s your anniversary after all. And you sure he wouldn’t mind.

Hell, you know he’d be elated.

You gracefully navigate through a sea of cubicles, stopping for a second here and there to greet back some of your colleagues as you make your way to Harry’s office in the corner. He got the corner office a little over two years ago after he got full equity partnership, and God, you love Harry’s office. There’s not much of a difference regarding the interior with yours, but the view is ten times more spectacular.

You stop as you hear your name being called, and as you glance to your right, you see his secretary smiling at you. “Hi! Happy anniversary!”

“Thanks Claire,” you smile back at her. “Is Harry in?”

She nods. “He’s got a conference call earlier but I think he’s done now.”

“I’ll be quiet just in case then,” you reply, walking past her. “See you!”

You shut the door with care and slowly turn the lock as you enter Harry’s office. You can see that he’s frowning ahead in that silent way he gets when his brain is dealing with some huge, knotty problem, but as he looks up from his computer and sees you, the frown immediately turns into a grin. “Hi wifey.”

“Hey,” you feel a pleased little smile coming to your lips as you creep along the edge of his desk until you’re in front of him, turning around for a second to set the cups of coffee and your folder on the table. “Got you some coffee, thought you’d need it.”

“Thank you my love,” he reaches out, curling both of his hands around your hips. When he looks up at you, he’s smirking. “I think we both do.”

His eyes are sparkling as he licks his lips, scanning the length of your body. Without a doubt reminiscing last night after you tucked your little girl in bed and had a little pre-anniversary celebration right there on your kitchen island.

It still gives you jolt sometimes, the way he’s looking at you, as if he’s looking at a breathtaking piece of artwork. You feel like you’ll never get used to it even after four years of marriage and two years of being together prior to that. It never fails to make your heart skip a beat every single bloody time.

It’s not much help, the fact that he’s in a suit. You see him in a suit every day yet it never gets old. Whoever invented the phrase ‘a man in a suit is to a woman what a woman in lingerie is to a man’ is brilliant and you can’t agree more with them. Your favourite piece of clothing on him is a long sleeved button-up shirt, and you’re pretty sure it has something to do with your attraction to your husband’s shoulders. There’s just something with the way they look when he’s taking it off — and how much you enjoy unbuttoning it. And when you layer a coat on top of that, it’s like getting to enjoy it twice. Like a very beautifully wrapped gift that you just can’t wait to rip open.

You choose his left thigh to sit on, the one with a tiger tattoo hidden underneath his black trousers. Your favourite thigh. His face is only inches away from yours, you can just smell the scent of his Armani aftershave and hear the crisp cotton rustle of his shirt as he moves.

“Happy anniversary,” he mumbles against your cheek. His lips warm against your skin, and you can feel he’s smiling as he layers kisses down your jawline.

“Four years,” you turn your head to have a proper look at his face when he’s done doting on your face. Your fingers dance along his jawline this time, before sliding back into his hair. He lets out a happy sigh when you rub his scalp, leaning closer to lock your mouths in a sweet, light kiss.

“Don’t chuck me just yet,” he jokes, and you can feel the words said against your lips at the same time as you hear them.

You give him another quick kiss, giggling as you pull away. “Don’t worry,” you shake your head. “Not for another fifty years.”

“Make it seventy, will ya?” A sly smile playing at the corner of his lips.

“Sixty five,” you deadpan. “Give or take.”

He’s chuckling as he lets one of his palms slide up your leg, the other running down your back, stopping just above your arse. His grins widen when he doesn’t feel anything else beside your work dress covering them. “You’re not wearing anything under this?”

“Not a stitch,” you murmur.

“Fuck,” he breathes heavily just inches away from your ear, sending a ticklish sort of shiver through your whole body. “We’ve got a meeting in twenty minutes.”

“We can do the whole ‘make love and explore each other’s bodies’ thing later tonight,” you shoot him a smirk as your hands wander south to undo his belt buckle, turning around to straddle him and letting him pull your dress up until it’s bunched around your hips. “Now you just have to quickly shag the hell out of me.”

Harry growls in your ear as you unzip his trousers and reach inside, feeling him go from interested to rock hard within seconds, and the sound of it makes your core flex around nothing. He adjusts himself in his chair, pulling down his boxers just enough to get his cock out before he settles back, giving the full control to you.

You hold onto his shoulder with one hand and lift your hips, not wasting another minute before you let him in with a quiet moan. He’s nibbling your bottom lip before tracing it with his tongue.

“Fuck, love,” Harry swallows every small sound that you breathe, crafting them into a low, desperate moan that rumbles from his chest. “So bloody wet f’me.”

“Been thinking about you all morning,” you whisper in his ear, your voice as seductive as he’d ever heard, making him growl and shift his hips upward.

You lean back with your elbows on the edge of his desk, letting him have a better view of where he disappears so deep inside of you, filling you nearly past your limit.

“I love you,�� he groans softly, biting his bottom lip as he brings his thumb where you need it the most, pressing down in small circles.

“Oh, fuck,” you moan, one of your elbows slipping off his desk but he is quick to catch you. You’re about to protest when he moves his hand up instead, his fingers digging into your hips, but the feeling of him basically shoving you down onto his cock definitely making up the loss.

He lifts you up without warning before setting you down on top of the scattered draft contracts and financial reports on his desk. He is far from gentle, every thrust sending you further and further across his desk that he needs to pull you back. Every drag of his cock out of your sensitive core sends delightful shivers of euphoria racing through you.

You desperately try to find something, anything, to hold onto. His arms, his shoulders, finally settling with hair as you pull him down by his tie closer to you. With a gasp of his name, you fall into bliss. Your eyes closed as he kisses you intensely, breathing against you deeply as he lets go of himself, spilling all he’s got into you.

He chuckles against your jaw as you both try to even your breath, giving you one last kiss. He pulls out and quickly reaches out for tissues to clean you properly before wiping himself and tucking his dick back into his trousers.

He gives you a moment to come down your high, certainly not complaining about the view of you laying on top of his desk with your dress still bunched up around your hips. There’s no way he can look at his desk the same again.

He reaches out to help you to sit up, stealing another kiss or two as you try to stand. Your legs are quivering and his lips quirk into a gentle smirk. “Are you alright, sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” you nod as you adjust your dress and fix your hair. “How do I look?”

“Freshly fucked,” he teases you, but hastily amends himself when you look like you’ve seen a ghost. “I’m joking, I’m joking. You look amazing as always, my love.”

“Oh shit,” you mutter as you glance towards the clock. You quickly grab your yellow folder and your cup of coffee and head towards the door. “We need to go. The SC and HSBC people and the insurer must already be in the conference room by now.”

“Wait,” Harry suddenly stops you as you walk towards the door. Pulling you close, his eyes fixed on yours before he leans even closer, giving you a wink before he whispers, “you’re the best fuck I’ve ever had. Happy anniversary.”

***

“Mummy!”

You’re smiling through the mirror on your dressing table at the reflection of your two and a half year old peeking her head into your room. She’s wearing an adorable pink smocked dress with the cutest fabric bow at the back and she’s clutching a painting she must’ve just done.

“Hi poppet,” you turn around to smile at her, opening your arms to sweep her into a hug.

“Mummy, look!” She proudly shows her painting. “It’s a pish!”

She still can’t say ‘f’ so she always pronounces ‘p’ instead, and both you and Harry can’t get enough of her baby talk. She grows way too fast but the way she talks reminds you that she’s still pretty much your baby. And you love it.

“Wow,” you gasp admiringly. “That’s a beautiful fish, my love. Shall we put it on the fridge later?”

“Uh-uh,” she nods as she climbs onto your bed. When you’re sure she doesn’t need your help climbing up, you turn your attention back to the mirror and continue with your makeup.

“Where’s daddy?” You ask her, glancing towards your bed where she is sat before you do your eyebrows.

She shrugs casually. “Seepin?”

Honestly, she is so petty. You wonder where she gets that from. Now every time you ask her about Harry she’ll say that he’s sleeping. It all started the other day when Harry was putting her to sleep. Minnie was telling him about her day but Harry was so tired that he fell asleep on her bed in the middle of the story. And you can’t really blame Harry because as much as you love your daughter, you know she sucks at telling stories. It takes ages and there are so many times where you smile at her but actually all you want to do is to yell ‘GET! TO! THE! BLOODY! POINT!’ (but of course you don’t do that, that’ll make you a terrible parent).

You laugh and shake your head. “No he’s not.”

You barely finished your sentence when Harry walks into your room. He’s changed out of his work suit and into his fancy one. It’s slate gray from Prada, with an unbuttoned black shirt underneath (that you’ll definitely ask him to button them up later just so you can unbutton it for your pleasure). He looks so dashing that you can’t help but stare through your dressing table mirror.

“There you are,” he strides to the bed before plopping himself down to sit beside Minnie. “Turned my back for a second and you already ran off.”

Minnie giggles as Harry attacks her with tickles. “Daddy!”

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Harry suddenly stands up, walking towards his wardrobe and takes out a wrapped box before walking back towards you. He’s smiling sheepishly. “I know we said no gifts, but I can’t resist.”

You roll your eyes comically. “I knew it.”

“Open it,” he hands you the box, before leaning in to kiss your cheek. “Happy anniversary.”

You can’t believe your eyes when you open it. It’s a black Alexander McQueen dress. The black Alexander McQueen dress. The one that you’d been saving for and promised yourself that you’d get it as a reward after you’re done with the big case at work that you're currently working with Harry, because it’s the biggest case you’ve ever had, and it’s just so stressful that the idea of a reward is basically the only thing that keeps you going.

“Harry,” you look at him, dumbfounded.

“Thought you’d like it,” he smiles at you as he sits back down on the bed, and Minnie quickly sits on his lap.

“I don’t know what to say. I mean… how-”

“Darling, you’ve been looking at that dress on the iPad before bed every night this past month,” he chuckles. “Hope you like it?”

“Of course I like it!” You grin. “I love it! Now, I knew you would get me something anyway even though we clearly said no gifts, so I got you something as well.”

You head to your wardrobe and rifles at the back behind your shoes. As you turn, you’re holding the wrapped present and you hand it to Harry.

“You shouldn’t have, darling,” he shakes his head, smiling at you. “But thank you.”

“Open it, daddy!” Minnie exclaims excitedly and Harry nods.

He sets it down on the carpet and carefully opens the wrapping paper. “A suit carrier!”

“Now it’s not as fancy as the dress, but I know you need a new suit carrier. You’ve got your old one for ages.”

Harry buttons your lips together for a proper kiss, earning a shriek of “eeew!” from Minnie as she closes her eyes with both of her dimply baby hands, and you both can’t help but laugh.

“M’gonna get you!” Harry playfully growls and catches her into his arm before she gets the chance to run away, kissing her little face over and over. It’s the sweetest sight and seeing them together always makes you more broody than you already are.

“Daddy, stop!” She giggles as she tries to hide her face from Harry who is now trying to blow raspberries on her cheek.

You take the dress that you were going to wear back into your wardrobe and pull out your new dress from the box instead. And as you slip into your brand new dress, both your husband and your daughter are looking at you like you hung the moon.

“Wow!” Minnie gasps. “Beautiful, mummy!”

You smile sheepishly. “Thank you, my love.”

“Mummy’s hot isn’t she, Min?” Harry nudges Minnie gently, tilting his head towards you.

“No!” Minnie frowns. “Mummy’s not hot. She’s warm. Mummy gives warm hugs,” she enunciates carefully.

Both you and Harry are dying with laughter. “You’re right, you’re right,” Harry hastily amends. “Mummy’s warm. Sorry.”

You check yourself once again in the mirror and you finally put on your lipstick, before quickly realising that you’ve made a mistake. Minnie has been obsessed with your lipsticks these days that you can’t put it on without her asking to do the same.

“Mummy!” She yells in delight as she spots the lipstick. “Miiiine!”

“Minnie,” Harry turns to her, scolding her gently. “We don’t say ‘mine’. What do we say?”

“Please mummy?” She looks at you with puppy dog eyes. “I do it, please?”

You just can’t say no to your little girl. So all you can do is just sigh and sit her down on the dressing table, helping her to put on the lipstick. When you’re done, she gasps admiringly at her own reflection in the mirror and you can’t help but chuckle.

“Beautiful!” She exclaims. “Like mummy!”

“You are, my darling,” Harry walks towards the dressing table and stands behind Minnie, squeezing her from behind and kissing her on the cheek. “Just like mummy. Gonna be a little heartbreaker, aren’t you?”

Minnie lets out another fit of giggles as Harry blows raspberries on her neck. And Harry’s about to give her another kisses attack to her cheeks when suddenly the doorbell rings and Minnie’s eyes light up. “Auntie Gem!”

“Shall we go and say hello?”

***

Harry is taking you to Wolseley in Mayfair, one of your favourite restaurants which also happens to be the place where you went on your first date. Technically it wasn’t a date, it was supposed to be a dinner meeting with some other people from the firm who were working on the same case with you and Harry, but one of them was stuck somewhere dealing with an even bigger case, and the other one had to go home for family emergency, so that left only you and Harry to deal with it.

You’re looking at your husband in front of you as you take a sip of your champagne. He’s clearly trying to ignore his phone, but after the 10th time it vibrates, he gives up.

“It’s Halford isn’t it?” You ask him, guessing the person who’s been texting him for the past hour.

He nods, taking a gulp of his champagne before finally setting his phone down. “What?” He’s gazing at you, a quizzical expression on his face.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You still think they need to go with the merger,” he accuses.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You don’t have to, it’s written all over your face.”

“Fine,” you give up. “Since you insist, I still stand by my opinion. There’s no way out of it. They need to accept HSBC’s offer to merge.”

“Are you insane?” He looks at you in disbelief. “There’s no way Standard Chartered people would accept that. Halford would never say yes to that!”

“Harry, SC is going bust,” you retort. “They’ve been in denial long enough, don’t you think?”

Much to your surprise, he suddenly smiles.

“What?” You look at him in annoyance.

“I’ve missed this,” he’s hiding behind his champagne flute but you still see him smiling. “

This time you give him a quizzical look. “What?”

“This,” he makes elaborate gestures with his champagne flute before taking another gulp. “Working on the same case together. Reminds me of the good ol days, you know?”

Of course you know. That was how you met, in a conference room (in fact, it was that very conference room you both went to earlier today), working on a case together. You didn’t particularly get along well in the beginning, and that’s just to put it nicely.

“Darling, I love you,” you begin. “But I don’t really like working with you.”

He laughs. “Oh come on, I’m not that bad!”

“Minnie is the only case that I actually enjoy working with you.” You roll your eyes comically and Harry can’t help but snort.

“Speaking about that kind of case,” he clears his throat before he begins. “I know it’s been perfect. You, me, our… case. But, I s’ppose we could, um, try for another case now?”

“Harry,” you reach across the table to squeeze his hand. “I’d love to have another… case. But,”

“Oh.”

“No, listen to me,” he breaks off into silence and you feel terrible at how hurt he sounds. “I’d love to have another baby, believe me I do, I really do. But right now we’re both just so caught up with work that we barely even see Minnie. I want us to try and learn how to have a better work-leisure balance before we go through that again.”

You sigh in relief when he finally smiles at you. “I understand.”

“Christmas,” you say out of the blue and Harry looks at you in confusion. “Christmas. Let’s try for another around Christmas. Which gives us around six months to figure this work-leisure thingy. That’s enough time don’t you think? Or when we’re done with this Standard Chartered case. Whichever comes first.”

“Darling, there’s no need to rush,” he assures you. “Honest. I’m ready when you are.”

“Actually there is,” you joke. “I’ve still got some vouchers for Mothercare that’ll expire by December next year.”

He chuckles. “So I’ve got to knock you up by March the latest?”

“No, February,” you reply and Harry appears a bit bemused. “Minnie was born way past her due date and I’m almost sure this one will come late too. We need it to be born before December, because- what?”

“Nothing,” Harry grins wider. “It’s just crazy, you know. Us. This. If someone came to this very table back then and told us that in six years we’d come back here to celebrate our four years wedding anniversary and talk about having a second baby…”

“Oh my god, I’d be livid,” you can’t help but laugh. “God, I hated you back then. I thought you were the most arrogant bastard I’d ever met.”

“Look at us now,” he makes another elaborate gesture with his champagne flute. Clearly making reference to that Paul Rudd meme.

“Who would’ve thought?” You laugh, playing along.

***

It turns out that Harry has another surprise for you.

After dinner, instead of driving back to your home in Kensington, he drives you both to Covent Garden instead. Turns out he’s booked a room in Rosewood for the night, and he didn’t want to say anything because he was sure you would say no. And he’s not wrong. You’ve never been away from Minnie overnight ever since she was born, and you would definitely overthink it and ended up saying no.

God, you love your husband.

The suite is amazing. It has panelled walls and plush sofas and a massive bed that looks insanely cosy. Now that you’re here, you’re fully convinced that it is not a crime to have a night off, and that Minnie will be just fine. In fact, you’re almost sure that she’s having a better time with Gemma than she is if you and Harry had stayed home. Gemma adores Minnie and Minnie is obsessed with her.

Harry hands you a glass of wine as he kisses your neck lingeringly. “The bath is ready.”

“You’ve got a text,” you murmur, tilting your head towards the coffee table where his phone is.

“Don’t care.”

“No, you do,” you insist. “Just look at it.”

He rolls his eyes but he listens to you and walks towards the coffee table. He grabs his phone, taking a second to read before he looks at you in astonishment.

“Oh my god.”

“What?” You play it cool, trying not to smile because actually you’ve read the notification about three minutes ago.

“Look,” he says, showing his phone to you.

Halford (Standard Chartered)

Harry, we’ve had our internal meeting and we’ve come to a decision to proceed with the merger.

You grin. “I don’t like to say I told you so.”

“You fucking love to say that,” he’s beaming at you. “Sweetheart, I know you said we can try when this case is over, and it is now. But just so you know I’m happy to wait til Christmas before we try too. There’s no rush.”

“Just shut up and put a baby in me, Styles.”

#harry #harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles ff #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #dad!harry #dad harry styles #dad harry imagines #lawyer!harry #harry styles blurbs #harry styles drabbles #harry styles fanfics #harry talk

2K notes · View notes

hologramband · 4 years ago

Text

The Hollywood Ghost Club p1

(gif by me)

Luke x Reader

Word Count: 3k

A/N: In this chapter I reference the song “Welcome to Wonderland,” By Anson Seabra, and yes it was partly a tiktok trend a few months ago but I really liked the idea of having it work here. Anyways give it a listen while you read for a fun time and let me know what you think! (I rly love feedback 🥺)

Link to the pre-Summary thing (x)

It was a busy day at the club, Caleb had more than the usual number of new additions to the club so you had to spend most of your day running around and getting the rooms ready.

This is the most stressful part of the incoming process, but the one that you thought was the most important.

Coming to terms with your death and realizing that you will be living in this hotel for the rest of your undead-life is hard to grasp, and it seems to be taken a little easier when the room is nice and cozy looking, with little welcome notes and words of encouragement from you saying they can reach out whenever they need.

That was your goal, to make sure that they had someone, who had their best interest at heart, to be there when they felt low, or needed help. It’s what you thought you had in Caleb, only to find out just how wrong you were.

Caleb wanted power, that’s the only reason he was so sweet to you when you got here. He saw the potential you had and wanted to get his hands on you so you wouldn’t use your powers against him.

As soon as you found out what he was doing, you made a vow to not let him do it to anyone else, if they had powers like yours, you couldn’t let him get his hands on them.

You had just just finished setting up the last room when you heard the familiar sound of wheels on carpet around the corner from where you were.

“Willey, I told you not in the hotel! You’re gonna tear up the carpet!” you scolded as you rolled your eyes.

Willey came into view and you could tell something had happened, his smile was unusually wide at the moment.

“You know the boy I was telling you about? The cute ghost I ran into the other day? He and his band want to talk to you, they want help understanding their ghost stuff, and I mentioned you, so uh.. I’m bringing them over this afternoon!” He rushed everything out in one breath and started jumping up and down in excitement.

You smiled at his actions and shook your head,

“You seem to really like this boy, don’t you?” You eyed him and giggled as he started to blush.

“I should be done with my incomings by 1:30 if you want to bring them then, and Caleb should be out until show time this evening so we should be good on that front. I’m excited to meet them.” You smile and look at the boy in front of you get worked up again.

“Oh, (y/n) you’ll love them! They are so much fun, Reggie can be a little slow sometimes, but I can see you really getting along with Luke, he has some similar attitudes that you do, and then Alex, ugh what’s not to like about him?” Willey was falling into a daze and you placed your hand on his shoulder to bring him out of it.

“It’s gonna be great, but I do have some newbys to welcome before you bring them here, so I gotta get going, see ya later!” You smile and walk away towards the entrance gate.

Welcoming the new ghost was both rewarding and tiresome, you did what you could to make each person feel welcomed and at home, but some guests were harder than others.

“Okay, (y/n), we’ve got one more, she should be here in 5 or so minutes. Here’s the profile you asked for!” One of the other ghosts, Kendra, said as she handed you a folder with some basic information on the new ghost.

Kendra didn’t have powers like yours, but she wanted to help you in any way she could, it was her idea to start collecting data on the new ghosts for you to use to make this an easier process.

You opened the file and your mouth dropped in shock, tears prickling behind your eyes.

“Kendra,” You gasped out and she came back and looked at the file with you, “she’s, she is only 6 years old.” You shook your head to get your thoughts straight.

“Okay, we’re going big for this one. Get some of the dancers for tonight down here in fancy dress, I have an idea.” You decided and she nodded.

You don’t typically do anything more than hand a personalized welcome bag to the new ghosts or give them a small memento to help them feel like they were in a new home.

You have never had someone as young as her, this child died at such a vulnerable age, what could Caleb want with such a young ghost?

You were in the middle of rushing to set things up when you heard the voices of Willey and some other boys coming your way. Checking your watch you realized it was 1:30 and these were probably the boys that he wanted you to meet.

“(Y/n)!” Willey called and his face fell when he saw your expression, then looking around and saw other ghosts rushing to clear the space.

“What’s going on? Did something happen?” He continued and grabbed your arm to stop your movements.

All you had to do was hand him the file and he understood. You turned your attention to the group on boys that came with Willey.

“Hi guys, I promise I’ll have a more formal introduction in a bit, but right now I really need your help, you sing right?”

The group nodded and you stepped into action. With a snap of your fingers you had changed them all into suits that resembled something out of the “Alice in Wonderland” movie, as that was your goal.

“Woah,” The blonde boy took a step back and looked up to Willey to see him poofing into a similar style outfit, “Look, not that I mind an outfit change, but what’s going on?” He asked.

“My job here is to welcome new additions to the club we belong to, I play a somewhat vital part of making the transition from life to death a little easier for those struggling to accept it,” you took a breath as the next part still made you feel a variety of emotions, “We have a new ghost that is coming any minute now that dies last night, she was only 6 years old. I can’t even imagine what she is going through or what she is thinking so this is going to be the most magical and happy welcome I have ever put on.”

The boys all had a sad look in their eyes, looking at each other and nodding, solidifying their decision to help you with this process.

Willey handed you back the folder and squinted his eyes, noticing the dim color in your own.

“(Y/n), how much magic have you used today?” He went to grab your face to look closer but you poofed away, knowing he wouldn’t like what he saw.

“I’m fine, just follow my lead and, well, catch me when I finish.” You smirk and snap your fingers, causing the room to change from the open ballroom to the looks of an open field with trees and small flowers.

Hearing a small knock on the door you smile big,

“Here we go,” you clap your hands and the music starts, the melody of “Welcome to Wonderland” flowing from the band.

The girl walked in and you smiled and sang the first few lines of the song, opening your arms wide and gesturing to the scene around you.

“Welcome to Wonderland, we've got it all, Potions and pastries that make you grow tall”

You snapped your fingers again and a tray of drinks and small snacks that the young girl liked appeared beside her, she grabbed one of each and looked back at you.

You squatted beside her and motioned to the rest of the room,

“Forests and cottages, castles and cards that can talk” You sang again, allowing her to take in the many sights that the room held.

“Welcome to Wonderland look where you're at, maddest of hatters, the Cheshire Cat, magical cabins and lovely white rabbits with clocks” As these words were sung you motioned some of the actors to skip out and do a small show of dancing and fun.

You grabbed the small girls hands and spun her into a dance of your own.

“Dancing through a dream, underneath the stars, laughing 'til the morning comes. Everyone that leaves has a heavy heart. Oh, Wonderland I love.”

You take a step back and bow to the child while signing the next line, taking her hand directly after.

”Welcome to Wonderland, I'll be your guide. Holding your hand under sapphire skies”

With another snap of your fingers you change the ceiling to appear a deep blue, with lots of small stars peeking through, pointing out a shooting star to the girl.

“Let's go exploring or we could just go for a walk, Welcome to Wonderland, where should we go?”

You lead the girl down a path where you see Willey and the boys wait, instruments in hand, ready for their cue.

“There's a tea party along down the road, make an appearance and maybe they'll sing us a song” You sang, then the boys launched into a slight solo that you all danced around to.

“Dancing through a dream, underneath the stars, laughing 'til the morning comes”

While this part played out, you put fireworks in the sky and had everyone come back out to dance with you. You kept snapping your fingers, using more and more of your limited magic to make this the most magical moment for the child.

You look down and see her eyes gleaming back up at you, bringing a warmth to your chest.

Knowing you had to wrap this up, you start snapping closer to the girl's head, making her sleepy, and filling her mind with warm and happy thoughts.

“If this was a dream, then at least I've got memories for when morning comes.”

You continue the snaps, feeling your magic fading with each one, leaning on a chair for support. You’ve learned in the past that your magic seems to be directly linked to your energy levels, so you knew you had a short amount of time left before you collapsed, so you gave this last part your all.

“Now that I must leave with a heavy heart, Oh, Wonderland I love.”

You smiled at the girl as she fell asleep in your arms. You quickly handed her off to Kendra to take her to her room, which you quickly poofed the snacks and other goodies to so she had them when she woke up.

Knowing this place needed to be spotless before Caleb came back, you used the last of your power to clap and the room put itself back together.

Directly after you felt your knees start to buckle and you gasped as you started to fall, but knew you wouldn’t hit the ground.

Within an instant Willey had caught you and poofed you over to a couch where you could rest.

“That was AMAZING!” the dark haired boy exclaimed, “I do have a question… were those bunny people real?” he moved in closer, “where did you send them?” he had his eyebrows scrunched and was looking at you very seriously.

“Ah, you must be Reggie,” you laughed, then looked at the blonde boy, “and Alex, I've heard alot about you,” this caused both him and Willey to blush, “and I guess that makes you Luke.” you turned to the brunette, meeting his gaze. He smiled in return and then coughed to break eye contact.

“Ehm, yeah. So, you’ve got some serious power, what you did for that girl, that was truly amazing.” Luke looked around and back to you. “Are you okay though? You look, um…”

“Dim? Yeah, she doesn’t know how to limit herself,” Willey handed you a glass of water, “She has some limitations to how much she can use at once, and then when she succeeds, this happens.”

You roll your eyes at Willey and take a sip of the water.

“I’m fine, really, I’ll gain my energy back soon enough,” You brush off the worry and try to change the subject, “So, Willey was telling me you guys had questions?”

The boys looked between each other and back at you.

“Well, there's this one girl who can see us, and then when we play music with her everyone can see us perform. We are trying to figure out if there's a way that we can be seen even when we aren’t playing?” Luke stepped forward to ask.

You tried to hide the shock on your face when Luke said they could be seen, if Caleb knew about this then he’d mark them, so you tried to steer away from that.

“So there’s nothing I can think of right now, but I can definitely keep my ears open to see if anyone else has ideas. Who is this girl that can see you?” You responded after a bit.

“Oh! Julie! She’s great, so is her dad, he’s really good at taking pictures and stuff, and her brother-” Reggie got cut off by Alex putting his hand over his mouth.

“Dude, she asked about Julie, not her family tree. Julie was cleaning out her mom’s studio when she found an old CD of ours, when she played it we kinda, just, fell into her life.” He explained.

“Did you guys die recently?” Taking a once over at what they were wearing you knew they hadn’t, but wanted to give them a chance to explain.

“We died in ‘95. Uh, an accident of sorts…” Luke scratched the back of his head.

“We ate bad street dogs.” Reggie dead panned and Luke turned to him in annoyance.

“DUDE! Not everyone needs to know.” He threw his hand to his forehead as you giggled, then launched into a cough fit.

“Ah, little bird, why so weak?” Your eyes shot open and met a matching scared expression from Willey.

You shot to your feet, mustering all the power you could into holding a strong stature.

“Caleb! I thought you were out until the show tonight?” You questioned.

“Finished early,” he traced a finger under your chin so he could look in your eyes, “why so dull?”

You gulped and planted a smile on your face.

“Just welcoming today's batch, it can really take it out of me,” you turned to Willey and motioned with your gaze to take the boys away, but sadly not quick enough.

“Ahh, and who do we have here?” You close your eyes and try to think of something, Willey speaking first.

“Just some ghosts I met, we were just going,” He tried pushing them away but before they could get out Caleb called them back.

“Oh, don’t rush on my account! Please, stay for my show tonight, or if you have to go, at least come back for it?” He clapped his hands together and you felt a burn start on your wrist, and his gaze shifted to you.

“(Y/n) is performing tonight, she’d just love it if you boys could join.” He smiled down at you and the burn intensified.

“Ah, um, yeah! You guys should definitely come back!” You faked a smile and looked back at Caleb.

“Uh,” Luke started, smiling as he switched his gaze from Caleb to you, “We have a gig at 9, but I’m sure we could swing by for a bit, I’d love to see you again.” He looked at his band mates and they shrugged.

You winced when he mentioned they were playing tonight, knowing Caleb would ask you about it later, and you couldn’t lie to him, the mark made sure of that.

“Excellent, I look forward to getting to know you boys tonight.” Caleb smiled and started to walk away, but turned at the last second, “(Y/n), darling, can you meet me in my office after you show the gentlemen out?”

You nodded and he continued on his way, as soon as he was out of sight you turned to Willey.

“Um, I guess I’m gonna go talk to him, but uh, wanna meet me in my dressing room later?” You prayed he knew what you meant, you guys had to talk about how to go about this situation.

If you tried telling the boys not to come, you would get shocked, same if you tried to warn them, it was a lose-lose situation.

Willey nodded and turned to the boys, all of them about to start leaving when Luke turned to you quickly,

“See you later (y/n)! Can’t wait to see you perform!” He smiled wide at you and you couldn’t help the grin that broke on your face.

You waved as you watched them leave, the smile falling off your face as they disappeared, knowing what was coming next.

You slowly walked towards Caleb's office, delaying what was inevitably about to happen.

Eventually, your walk came to an end, you raised your hand to knock, but before you could, the door opened on its own, Calebs voice speaking from within.

“Ah, my little songbird, nice of you to join me.” He smiled a wicked smile and the door closed behind you.

“So, tell me about these boys.”

Tag List! (inbox me to be added)

@lolychu

#luke patterson #luke patterson imagine #luke x reader #luke patterson x reader #jatp luke imagine #jatp #jatp luke x reader #jatp luke #jatp luke patterson #jatp luke patterson imagine

252 notes · View notes

leapyearkisses · 3 years ago

Note

For the director's cut: Could you do Nice Work If You Can Get It? (Eliseo/Padgett)

That fic... Changed me. I'll never forget it TBH.

Yes, I'd be happy to! This one was really fun to write, and it was the beginning of two OCs I am very fond of now (and who I am happy to know made an impression on quite a few people!).

(If anyone enjoys this director's cut thing and wants to see one for another of my stories, ask away. I had a lot of fun!)

Commentary in bold below the cut! NSFW, mess, deliberately sneezing on people, m/m

This story started from a prompt about one character hiring someone to get them sick. An intriguing idea!! But it was one I actually struggled with finding a groove for when I started out. I actually started a few different scenarios with different character dynamics before I figured this one out. I have a 2600-word WIP of a different version of this in my "unfinished" folder.

"All right... close your eyes." Eliseo swallowed and did so, blocking out his bedroom, the red-gold sunset light pouring in from the windows, and Padgett, who was straddling his hips. He could still hear, quite easily, the other man's labored breathing and feel the heat of his thighs... and his crotch. Eliseo was under no illusion that he was in an incredibly compromising position at the moment. He hadn't thought much about the.. particulars when he'd first decided to strike this deal. "Are we really doing this?" he asked, voice weak.

I can't really write fetish porn without including actual porn lol, so from the beginning it was sexy even without the snz. In this version, the POV character is Eliseo, who is the "naive" character in a way. I pretty much write pairs where one character has the fetish and their partner does not but is indulgent. The one with the fetish is usually embarrassed about it or somehow naively realizing they like this weird-ass thing. Padgett laughed, voice tumbled and edging on hoarse. "Hey now. Not getting cold feet are we, my lord?" His exhale ghosted over Eliseo's forehead and his tousled black hair touched Eliseo's cheek.

Padgett is the confident character, and he brought the humor to this scenario! Eliseo cleared his throat. "No..." He could imagine the other man's smug look. They'd known each other long enough now that the image rose unbidden to his mind's eye. Padgett's eyes always glittered like opals when he was scheming something. Padgett surprised him with a tender touch on the shoulder, and he almost opened his eyes again. "The safe word is 'pumpernickel,'" he said, managing not to chuckle. "We can stop whenever you want... Hhk-" He fought off a gasp. "Decide hh quickly, though." Eliseo shivered. "I'm okay. Let's do it." He didn't want to admit it, but Padgett's reassurance did put him at ease, even if this had been his idea. He relaxed and tried to lose himself in the late afternoon heat. "Yehh-s, my lord." Padgett leaned forward and took a shaky breath. It stuttered and caught on invisible hooks, sounding at once to be full of potential and then gone again, like a ghost at the window. Eliseo could feel his body tightening again with anticipation, especially when Padgett gasped and leaned back. "Hh-... hah--

"A ghost in the window" eehhh this is kind of overworked. I like to write descriptively even when it isn't necessary. "Huh-ktschht!" A warm rush of air burst in Eliseo's face, almost immediately followed by a watery spray over his forehead, closed eyes, and nose. His instant reaction was to curl back, or try to, and he had his hands braced on Padgett's chest before he could think about it.

I had never written anything quite this scandalous as it were. There hadn't been a lot of snzfic I had read where there was direct, purposeful contagion like this or quite so much mess description directly on the skin, the face even. So I was sweating while writing this lol. "Hey now," said Padgett, delayed by a sniffle. His tone was light. "Easy. You specified this in the contract, remember?" He rested his hands lightly on Eliseo's wrists. "How are you feeling about it?"

CONSENT IS THE SEXIEST THING. We get this instinctual edge of revulsion from Eliseo because he has not acknowledged to himself that he likes snz yet and also he has never allowed anyone to do this to him before because why would anyone do this? Eliseo found he was holding his breath, but- Well, that would defeat the purpose of this exercise. He cautiously let it go and then opened his eyes. Padgett was gazing down at him, looking neither smug nor concerned, just curious. "I- this was on instinct," Eliseo murmured. After a beat, he lowered his hands, and Padgett let him go easily. "Yes, I imagine so. It's natural." Padgett smiled then, and then his expression crinkled. "Wh- hh- want to do it again? Hkt-- hhh..." Eliseo forced himself to surrender again to his pillows. "Yes." Again, he closed his eyes. Padgett shifted forward on his lap and oh- but then he was sneezing one more. "Huh- hktsschit!" Again, the spray. This time it dusted over Eliseo's nose and mouth. He fought to keep from thinning his lips and... took a deeper breath. Padgett hadn't moved, was still fighting with his own lungs, reeling in another insistent sneeze like a stubborn trout. "Huh- hh... hh hh huh-" He made an annoyed sound. "Hah-- hah-krttschtts!" Eliseo felt droplets of saliva decorate his cheekbone. Padgett sniffled thickly.

I think artists often point out how funny it is that when they're drawing they mimic the face of the character. I do this with sneeze sounds (IF I'M ALONE). I tend to like softer sounds for my characters, so a lot of sibilance creeps in. "...Bless you," Eliseo murmured. He was feeling hot. Maybe it was Padgett on top of him. The man was running a fever. "You are... doing the job admirably." That earned him a laugh. Padgett shifted his weight to his heels, which did interesting things to his cock's relation to Eliseo's own. "Thanks, I guess? I never would have thought anyone would be hiring for this, much less you." "Circumstances are dire," Eliseo intoned without a hint of irony.

Eliseo is a card. I love him. Of the two of them he is much more my preferred "type." He is similar to my mage character Llewellyn but less fussy. "Mmhm." Padgett sniffled again. "You must really hate weddings. Couldn't you have just gone on a hunt or something this weekend instead?" Eliseo sighed. "No. My sister would do anything to ruin my plans if I tried to avoid the party any normal way. But luckily, she's terrified of germs. I think a miserable head cold will be the ticket." Like hell he wanted to sit through another of his sister's weddings. Every time it was some new, world-changing drama. He wasn't even sure whether the groom this time was noble born. No doubt the reception gossip would be scathing. What absolute drivel.

There's a little "my lord" up there before, but this is kind of where the setting is characterized - Eliseo is a noble and this is a time and place where nobility matters. However, it's also anachronistic, because germ theory is a thing. They're kind of in a pseudo Regency/Victorian world where I just write whatever feels like the most fun. "Lucky also that you have me around, hm?" Padgett's next chuckle turned into a bit of a cough. Eliseo patted his knee awkwardly. "I- well, yes. Very. But believe me when I say that I would not wish for you to be so stricken if I had the power to stop it."

People with shitty immune systems are my jam. Even if it's really unlikely, I love it. Sometimes especially if it's unlikely. Like mister high elf Llewellyn, or if they're a god or angel or something. Or in a world where if you had that bad of an immune system you probably would have died of diphtheria or pneumonia by now. "Of course, my lord." Padgett rubbed his nose. And though his breath hitched a few times in the following moments, he stayed where he was. Eliseo blinked. "Are we...?" Done? He didn't really think the exposure had been long enough. "I am ready." Padgett blushed a little. Blushed? "Sorry," he said. "I can kind of feel that, uh, the uh, next ones are going to be kind of... wet. I could blow my nose." His voice trailed off, wavering again. His nostrils twitched, and Eliseo did see within the promise of moisture. Perhaps it was the taboo of it, but Eliseo was alerted instantly to a sudden thickening of his cock. It pressed at his trousers with some gusto as Padgett sniffled again. Eliseo swallowed. "No. No, this is good. This will... help."

After consent, MESS is the sexiest thing. That's just how it goes. I don't make the rules. Padgett gave him a considering look, at least as well as he could between soft gasps and squinting against the itch in his nose. "If you're sure, my lord." "Just- call me Eli, like you used to," said Eliseo, stumbling over the words. He wasn't sure where they had come from, but now they were bare between them. Still, perhaps a bit of affection wasn't so odd compared to what they were already doing. Eliseo closed his eyes on Padgett's startled look.

I wasn't sure where this came from either. But suddenly they were in love and I was cool with it. Eli btw is pronounced like the name (Ee-lye) but Eliseo is pronounced Ell-ee-zay-oh in my mind. It's of Latin origin and means "God is my salvation" according to that authority Babynames.com lol. Padgett means "attendant" so that was chosen partially because he's Eliseo's employee but also because Padgett is just a SUPER English-sounding name. I really enjoy looking up name meanings and representing different traditions in my characters. I tried to give Eliseo's family members Latin names, too, although they're not mentioned here. "Eli," Padgett said, and he sounded like he'd just come home from a long war to find the hearth kept warm for him. "I will." He leaned forward again, bracing himself. "Now, I'm going to- to hih-- to snhhsneeze, hah-- haktschtsch! Hrh- Hnkgstschhiu! More spray this time, more wetness, and Eliseo gasped himself when he felt a thick drip against his chin. Padgett hadn't moved. When Eliseo tentatively looked up, he saw his friend caught in a limbo of urgency. His green eyes were shut, eyelashes fluttering. His nostrils, gently pink now, flared. A clear trail hung from one of them, quivering as Padgett panted. He looked wild and fever bright and teetering on a precipice. Eliseo ignored what it might mean that Padgett's desperate expression, his wet nose - even the mess - suddenly went to his cock. He was hard, looking up at a portrait of a sneeze.

Sometimes you just have to stop writing for a second and drink some cold water or something. Carefully, he placed a hand on Padgett's thigh. "It's okay," he said, words coming of their own accord. "I've got you." Padgett's fingers tightened fitfully in the sheet as he shifted his weight again. He was making soft, irritated noises. His nostrils flared and Eliseo saw another drip lying in wait on the cusp.

Fingers tightening fitfully in a sheet is a thing I love to describe. If you binge-read everything I've written, you will find that I write snz and sex in a very particular way over and over. Because that's what I like! And I'm super glad readers like it as well! But I can basically only find the motivation to write what I enjoy (when I write at all... .__.), which is why I only write m/m or nb characters and such. When the urge became too much, it was like watching a wave finally crash down. Padgett's breath caught; he tensed and leaned back. Eliseo hurriedly closed his eyes again, and none too soon. "Hhhhrektschuckh!" He felt the mess streak his face, fly to spatter his mouth and nose and chin. Padgett moaned and then gasped again, chest swelling with air.

SCANDALOUS "Hah- Huhrttschuh! Hshtt! Hah- hsshtt!" Again, he teetered, teasing the air with shivering gasps. Then, he abruptly folded with a crush of vowels and congestion. "Hggtschiucht!" A baptism, pondered Eliseo's brain as it detached from reality momentarily. Pinned as he was to the bed by Padgett's sex, he couldn't move when he felt himself coming just as abruptly as the sneeze. Somehow the slick wash had become a mounting sense of urgency in each of his muscles, racing from his fingertips and toes to his abdomen, where, quite unbidden, his cock had tugged all that energy into a gut-wrenching orgasm that sent the shockwaves back out with renewed vigor. Padgett whined, and Eliseo took him firmly by the shoulders and drew him in for a messy, off-putting, contagious, blindingly good kiss. "Wow," said Padgett, when they finally broke for air.

Wow, lol. I have a great imagination. I wish I could make myself write more often. "Don't ask me why," Eliseo muttered, but he refused to be made a fool of by embarrassment. "C- come here." He shifted to sit up further and put his hands on Padgett's hips. "I want-" He wanted. "This. Yes?" Before he could stop himself, he swept his tongue over Padgett's mouth, under his nose, to rest at the edge of a nostril. He tasted salt. It was not entirely pleasant, but whatever pilot was captaining his body right now didn't care. He could still feel his cock pulsing against his trousers.

Also the first time I wrote anything like this, but Eliseo was like go big or go home, so. Padgett moaned. "It feels... odd. But, my lord, you can do what you- I mean, Eli." He was breathless for different reasons now. Eliseo laved the tender skin above Padgett's lips, then licked up his septum. When Padgett shivered, Eliseo kissed him again. Slowly, he cleaned away the mess from Padgett's face. When he was finished, neither of them knew what to say. Eliseo was hard again.

Huahaha Eliseo can have an unrealistic refractory period. I don't really give a shit how accurate this stuff is when it would get in the way of the enjoyment. Not to the point where people are just going in without lube or something crazy like that, but being willing and able to go again is just sexy, so that's fine. Finally, Padgett laughed shyly. "I think you'll be catching your cold, Eli." Eliseo blushed and shrugged. "I should hope so. I am-" He bit his lip. "I'm not ready to stop. Will you stay the night? I'll look after you." Padgett kissed him, tenderly drawing them together. "I would like that, very much."

And then they DEFINITELY banged. I hadn't conceptualized their specific history together at this point, but Eliseo and Padgett were FWB while younger, so the "surprise" at meeting again like this in a sexy fashion is more like "Oh, are we doing this now, as adults with drastically different social standing?" and less "Hey, are you into me??"

I got more than one request to write the direct sequel to this, but I dunno. I usually prefer one character in the pair to be the one who is sneezing, and writing Eliseo sick isn't as fun. Partially because I'm much, MUCH more interested in the shy/embarrassed/"voyeur" dynamic, so someone who gets off on their own sneezes really does nothing for me. I do have a WIP of Eliseo sick that is a direct sequel to Carriage Shenanigans, but I have no idea if it will ever get finished.

Thanks so much for the request for this very fun exercise!

#lyk writes #snz #eliseo jorvald #padgett foxborough #elipadge #director's cut commentary exercise

14 notes · View notes