#ya know the one. yea its that. i think about that a lot like... | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

victoria-grimesss · 1 year ago

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->Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem!Reader

->Words: 4.7k

->Warning: MDNI! unprotected sex, rough sex, fingering, mask stays partially on, dirty talk.

->Summary: Working alongside the 141 for a year now, you’ve grown closer to the infamous ghost. Confiding in Soap about your crush, confession is the only way to rid yourself of the gnawing infatuation.

->A/N: Despite all my writing being about König, ghost is my all time favorite baby girl, writing for him always intimidated me but I’ll give it my best shot, hope he’s not too OOC.

It’s been a full year on the 141 and you couldn't be happier, well not happy at the moment since you’re ankle deep in sludge. This mission is going as well as any other despite the evac being miles away through humid weather and wet ground.

“Good thing I packed extra socks.” You muttered, readjusting your gun and pack and unsticking your boot from a deep pocket of mud.

“Oh come on lass it could be worse right? We could be treading through anaconda infested waters huh? Lighten up.” Soap is next to you. He's having an easier time removing his boots from the muck.

Price is in the front with Gaz next to him talking about the evac and rations, you admire their relationship. Price has slowly morphed into some kind of a father figure to you as you assume he did for Gaz too or at least a mentor. Gaz and Soap are like brothers to you, you bicker like such. You pick on Soap when he gets too drunk to form correct sentences and starts singing songs from his childhood, and you get Gaz too when he laughs so hard you have to remind him to breathe. Like a dynamic triangle the three of you.

Then there’s Ghost.

He stands at the back of the group behind you and Soap, no evident trouble for him when it comes to the mud. He’s sturdy and observant, keeping a close eye on the treeline and behind the group. He's a great soldier and you admire his skills… and him. Ever since you met him you’ve had your eyes trained.

I mean who wouldn’t.

From his expressive eyes which sometimes you feel look through you, to his broad shoulders where he holds the world on top of them, his strong arms that deal with enemies swifty, to…his… lower extremities that you certainly have only thought of once or twice. Maybe more.

You should be ashamed of your feelings, and you lock them down deep the only time they have slipped past your lips is when too much alcohol loosens them.

—

You confessed one night to soap, the rest were asleep and your insomnia was kicking your ass so you went to the parking lot where soap was nursing a bottle on the hood of his car, and you sat down and shared it.

“Something on your mind bonnie?” He hands the bottle to you, concern brewing in him.

“I don’t know, it’s just, Ghost.”

He laughs.

“Yea, I know about him, but what about him?”

You take a couple large gulps of the amber liquid, it burns its way down and soothes your aching wanting heart, burying the hopeless romantic in you. Tears brew in your eyes and you always forget you either become a laughing drunk or a sappy drunk, seems the latter had won tonight.

“Aye- lass, what's wrong.” His hand is placed on your shoulder offering a comforting touch.

You sob and laugh at the same time, looking up at Soap.

“I think I’m in love with him.” You say quietly through a stream of tears that make their way into your mouth, making a weird cocktail of salty liquor.

“Oh bonnie…” Soap rubs your back, his voice is soft.

“I just, everything about him Johnny! I can’t get him out of my head, and he probably doesn't even look at me that way, he could get any girl he wanted!” You sob.

“Woah there calm down, gonna throw yourself into a spell talking like this. Look. LT cares about ya, truly. He thinks you’re a valued member of the team and I’ve caught him starin’ a few times so don’t be daft now ya hear. You’re a pretty girl and LT would be lucky to have ya.”

You sniff, wiping the tears and snot with a sleeve.

“Really? You think so?”

“Cross my heart and hope ta die. You’ll be alright.”

—

“It’s in my shoes.” You deadpan.

You hear Gaz laugh and Price looks back, checking on the team.

“Don’t worry Y/N, just imagine it’s a mud bath! Your skin will be smooth and shiny before you know it!” Soap laughs at Gaz’s antics, it’s nice when you can all joke around and relax. The hard part is over and now it’s simple evac.

“Right… how soothing.” Your eyes roll and you look back to check on Ghost, your eyes meet and a flash of electric lightning shoots to your heart, it feels good.

He gives a quick nod and you return to your trudging. You wait till after the mission to pass any other signals, he’s too focused to register any flirting right now. Or that's the advice Soap gave you after that night.

“Right. Keep close by, chopper is land down in 5, need to evac quickly to avoid any unwanted looks.” Price alerts to the rest of the team once you’ve covered ground and are nearing sweet release. Your back and knees ache just at the thought of sitting. You nurse the last of your water and keep walking, you tip your bottle back along with your head to get the remaining drops and you trip over a protruding root.

Other foot trying to catch yourself a hand catches on your upper arm, righting you up.

“Alright there?” Ghost’s dark eyes are steady on you, maybe a bit amused, or maybe his eye paint is creasing.

“Yea, sorry just tryna finish off the bottle, didn't see that there.”

“Careful next time yea?” He releases your arm and waits for you to start walking again to pick up behind you.

“Yea, for sure LT.”

You feel his hand on your arm even after he released you and you want to untie the knot that Ghost has tied there and you know you’re royally fucked.

You’re all on the chopper and your legs just about give out, you always love the euphoric feeling of sitting down after a mission like this, the lactic acid in your muscles making them burn like no other. You sit across from Ghost and he visibly relaxes once the chopped takes off, the breeze from the open doors cooling everyone immensely.

“Good work everyone, I know evac was shit but you all hustled and we got the intel we needed. I think we all deserve a good ol drink when we get back right?”

Price brings a smile to everyone's face, as tired as the lot of us are. You glance over at Ghost and his eyes look away from you, looking over his gear.

Your heart pains for some kind of acknowledgment that he feels the same, it’s like trying to hold the same fistful of sand no matter how hard you try it seeps through your fingers, you want him so badly you’d tape your fist shut if that meant keeping the sand in.

—

Back to base, ‘same day different shit’ you heard Ghost say one time. You often hold on to everything he says, hoarding each little piece he feeds you and storing it away somewhere special. Like you’re hoarding food for the winter, as if the winter is him falling in love with a woman that isn't you, when that happens you’ll open your little box of his sayings and advice and eat them slowly, savor them until all that’s left to drink is the tears you drown yourself in as consolation.

A pity party is what you throw yourself that night, showering and getting a once over by the medic then making your way back to your room, Price wants to get everyone together tomorrow night for a drink, wouldn't hurt you think. You sit on the edge of your bed, the silence is deafening after a mission, tinnitus ringing your ears. The bed is cold, you want someone to warm it, you want Ghost to warm it.

The nightmares come to you quickly that night, visions of your team, your friends being ripped apart by bullets as you try to fire back into mist. You hold Ghost’s hand as he fades and you wake up coated in cold sweat and adrenaline.

3:18 a.m.

You toss and turn for a minute before huffing and leaving the bed, you need air. Adorned in sweatpants and a shirt you got on recruitment day you leave your room the sound of your door is loud and you wince as it closes. You go to the parking lot once more, maybe there will be more stars out tonight.

The air is crisp and cool, you round the corner of the building where a bench sits, a lone figure is sitting and smoking there, you can tell it’s him by his silhouette. He’s broad and his legs spread wide as he sits alone.

“This seat taken?” You ask, scared if you talk too loud he’ll leave.

“All yours” No inflection is evident in his tone.

Silence sits between you two and you take a harsh breath to break it. It makes you uncomfortable.

“Trouble sleeping?” His voice is deep and low.

“The usual, nightmares again. You?”

“Not tired, too soon after the mission to sleep.”

“I understand.”

You watch him carefully as he brings the cigarette to his lips and inhales, you inhale with him. You imagine him inhaling your perfume as his lips touch your neck. You stare, unabashedly, like you’re not scared if he catches you.

He adjusts where he sits, hips rolling to get more comfortable.

“Bloody bench feels like it’s made of spikes.” He mutters, quietly.

You breathe out a laugh as he exhales the smoke.

His eyes look to the side at you and then forward again.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you want something from me.”

“What if I do?”

Your heart is racing now, faster than it had on any given mission.

He stands, throwing the cigarette to the ground and crushing it with his boot, he slips his mask down again and his eyes are locked on you.

“I’d say you’d better fuckin’ find it elsewhere, we both know I can’t give you what you want.”

“What do I want Simon?”

His lips grow sealed when you say his name.

“Things I’m incapable of providing, best leave it at that. Night sergeant.”

His tone meant business, you know better than to chase after him. You sit on the bench, staring at the cigarette on the ground. It’s beaten and crushed like you feel right now.

You wonder if you can still taste his lips on it.

The walk of shame back to your room is humiliating, you pass some others that can’t sleep, nightmares aren't anything special around here and you wish you could pluck the worries from their heads.

Sleep is easy after that, maybe your body wants to make you forget the encounter with him but even so you dream of him. He’s an inescapable phantom.

—

“Aye there she is!!” Soap hollers from across the pub, it’s a quaint place, quiet enough to not be annoying but lively enough to not feel desolate.

A large corner booth is what they occupy and you wave as you make your way over, A few empty glasses scatter the table already you arrived ‘fashionably late’.

“Hey bonnie I gotta take a leak you can have my seat yea?” He nudges Ghost so he can be let out of the booth, Ghost stands towering over you. Soap shuffles over to the bathroom and Ghost lets you slide into the booth before he follows, trapped between the wall and him. You’d rather be under him…

You greet them all and Gaz slides you a tall glass of something mind numbing, Ghost has his mask down but he’s nearly finished with his glass same with the rest of them.

“You got some catching up to do, miss fashionably late.” Gaz shoots a smile and you clink your glasses together.

Soap meanders back and pulls a chair to sit at the end of the table, you all squabble over what a better drink is and down rounds after rounds. The conversation somehow gravitates to relationships at some point and Soap is going on and on about this woman he met at the pub down the street.

“Oh she’s a real sweetheart, thinking about asking her out later this week when I get the balls to do it.”

You smile at the way Soap talks about her, you’d love to be admired like that, treasured.

“I think you should go for it Johnny! You're a nice guy, I can go in there and talk you up if you want, say you fought off ten men to save my life.”

He laughs, nearly tipping off his chair,

“You’re a real wingman Y/N, if you can secure a date by all means.”

You smile and the air is joyous, little is heard from Ghost but you know he likes seeing the team happy, he sips his drink and observes, smiles hidden by his mask.

“Have you had any luck on the dating scene Y/N?”

Gaz questions, eyebrows rising.

“Yea bonnie, never hear a peep out of you when we talk about lovey dovey shit.”

You shrug, taking strong sips of your drink.

“I went on a date a while back, he got me flowers, a real nice guy. Found out he was sleeping with my friend behind my back around the fourth date. Don’t really want to try anymore, end of story.”

You can feel Ghost’s eyes burning into you as you finish the sentence. His gaze is addicting and you feel sweaty locked in his stare.

“Well he’s a proper twat for messing it up with you then yea?”

Price offers a tip of his head, sympathy in his eyes.

“Ah it’s alright, I’ll just wait for my prince charming to come sweep me off my feet.” You bat your lashes dramatically and fake a swoon, soothing the old memory with jokes. It turns the tide of the table ambiance to a lighter one.

“I need to piss.” Ghost says quickly, you scoot out of the seat and Ghost hurries off to where Johnny has gone to earlier.

“What’s up his arse?” Gaz says confused.

Price downs the last of his drink and slams it back onto the table.

“What do you all say to a game of pool?”

“I’ll watch, cheer ya’ll on.” You still nurse your drink and you start to buzz, worries slipping away like papers, but one it left, weighted down with a large paperweight.

“I’ll be right there, gonna finish this drink off.” Soap says, sloshing the leftover liquid that's in his glass.

“Very well, see you momentarily.”

Soap watched the two walk off, leaving the two of you left alone.

He turns back quickly, you get secondhand whiplash.

“Ghost has had his eyes on you the whole night please tell me you told him and he confesses his secret love for you!” Soaps eyes are huge and he’s pleading for the right answer.

“Not exactly.” He delfates.

“What the fuck do you mean ‘not exactly’?”

“I told him that I kinda wanted him and he said he wouldn't be able to give me what I want.”

“That's bollocks and you know it! He’s always watching you, never seen him doing that for any other lass. Now is the time, he’s all alone. Go on and chat him up, I’ll tell the boys you’ve gone home sick alright.”

Soap winks and leaves before you can utter another word. You even your breathing and gulp down the rest of the liquid courage before strolling over to the bathroom hallway. It does not take guys that long to pee weird he's not around.

You walk outside, feeling deja vu from last night the breeze hits the same way.

“You should go inside, it’s cold out.” Ghost is standing leaned up against the brick wall next to the door.

“I was looking for you actually.”

He stands up straighter, shoulders held further.

“Lads looking? Not really in the mood to lose another game. Last time was enough.”

You laugh, the alcohol making it easier to relax around him. You're tipsy enough to have fake confidence for the time being but sober enough to make deductions wisely.

“No Simon, I’m looking. For you.”

“And I told you to stop, you don’t know what you’re thinking. You’re a nice girl yea? Find a nice young guy that can take you on dates and buy you flowers-

“I don’t want anyone else Simon. I want you because I’m in love with you!”

It seems like the whole world went silent after you said that. You’re steaming and don’t move your eyes away from him.

“Y/N.”

“I’m tired of pretending. I just had to tell you I couldn't hold it in any longer it was making me sick. I don’t care about fancy stuff, you should know that by now. I just want to be next to you.”

He approaches you, your neck craning to maintain contact.

“Y/N, I’m proper fucked up you know that? You’re too kind, too perfect to be ruined by a man like me.”

You sniff, the cold getting to you.

“I think you’re wonderful Simon really. You look out for everyone and make sure everyone is alright before looking after yourself. Let me please show you you’re worth loving in return.”

Your heart spills to him, spewing it’s contents violently.

“I’m not joking, I'm not ‘prince charming’ like you referenced earlier.”

“Even better.” You smile.

“Fuck it.”

Before you know it, he lifted the small portion of his mask to kiss you and you erupt, wrapping your arms securely around his neck as though you’ll fall if you don’t. His hands hover over your waist and you grab them and push them down onto your body and he pulls you close. He kisses you like it’s the last time, he makes up for all the times he should have, all the time he desperately wanted to.

He’s watched from afar for so long, your laugh creates sparks in his heart, seeing you make it back from another mission safely spurs him on. He would lay down his life for you and you don’t even know it.

He pulled back, mouth in the crook of your neck.

“Your place is nearby right?” You ask, rubbing his neck and down his back.

“Yea, yea it is.”

He leads you back, back to his den where he’ll draw you in with those eyes and that voice, calloused hands exposed from his gloves that will trace over your skin. The walk is in silence but you both are buzzing, the team won’t miss you, probably happy this chasing game is over with so peace can be established once more. He takes your hand as he leads you up the steps to his apartment, you grope his arm and he shoots you a sultry side-eye.

“Have I ever told you I love your arms?”

“You did just now love.”

Love, love, love. You want him to keep saying it.

He leads you in you’re caged in by his arms on the inside of the door. He looks you over head to toe.

“You look fuckin lovely tonight you know that? All I’ve been thinking about is tearing this top off of you and stripping you down.”

You shiver and bring your hands to run carefully from his abdomen up to his chest.

“You think of ripping my clothes off frequently?”

“Very.”

Stunned by his words and your head swimming he places his hands on your waist and lowers his head to your ear.

“Now if you’d allow me, I’d like to fuck you now.”

Hypnotized you speak.

“Yes please.”

His home is lowly lit and sparsely decorated, you assume he’s not here often or for long.

The bedroom is simple, a bed, two side tables, two lamps, and a dresser. An adjacent bathroom you can’t see.

“You have a nice place.”

“Well now I know you’re lying.”

You stand at the edge of the bed and he stands before you and his hands are on you again pushing you onto the bed you are surrounded by the smell of him, the deep umber and woodsy scent.

“You know how many times I’ve pictured you in my bed?”

He’s inching your pants down your hips agonizingly slow as he speaks.

“How many times I fucked myself picturing you instead?”

“Ghost.”

“Nah none of that here, you’re gonna say my real name from now on and you’re gonna scream it alright?”

“Fuck Simon.”

“Yea. Just. Like. That.” Your pants are off and his hands move from your ankles up to your knees and caress to your inner thighs. His fingers skate your pantyline and your eyes are locked on his hand and he doesn't stop. His hands move over your hips and grip your waist before moving right below your breasts, he checks you with his eyes and you plead silently.

He cups you fully with both hands and you roll your head savoring his feelings.

“So fucking good love fuck.”

He strips you of your shirt and bra and you’re left exposed on his bed. He stands back to stare down upon you and you feel like a spread of food sitting on a stark white table ready to be consumed and ogled. He strips himself of his leather jacket leaving his quite form fitting black tee on.

You adjust under his gaze, his mask hides any expression but his eyes say so much. Raking over your body heavily and his chest rising and falling fast as though he had run a marathon.

“Simon.”

“Yea?”

“Do something.”

“Like what?” His voice is lighter now.

“Anything Simon!”

He laughs and places a knee in between your legs, spreading them wide to accommodate his other leg and hips.

“There we go, fuck all spread out underneath me.”

His hand is placed on your breast and rolls your nipples in his fingers, it moves down never leaving your skin until he reaches your core it’s hot and wet and he collects it on his fingers and when he finally touches you it’s like you’ve reached Valhalla.

He slips a finger inside and it faces no resistance, you form around him and he slips in another starting a smooth rhythm.

“So tight, you think you’ll be able to take me huh love?”

He’s pumping in you and you can hear how wet he’s made you, his eyes darting from his fingers to your face, thrown into pleasure.

He brings you to your peak so quickly you’re stunned and you grip his arm as you clench around him, his name being pulled from you like a mantra.

You regain your mind and look at him as he slips from you and his fingers make their way under his mask, his eyes on your as he licks them clean tasting you on him.

“Sweetest fucking thing I ever tasted.”

He’s unbuckling his belt next, unzips his pants and pulls himself free. He's thick as all hell and a thick vein runs down the underside. It looks heavy and you pocket an idea for next time.

You're staring for a long time and his two fingers that just did unspeakable things to you tip your chin to look at him.

“Think you can handle it?”

“I can take it, just hurry up.”

“You’re always so impatient you know that.”

He places the tip at your entrance collecting your wetness to help with the initial push.

The stretch is delicious and you grip his arm and shoulder gasping at the feeling of being full of him.

“Fuck. Fuck you’re so fucking tight, squeezing me so fucking good.”

His one arm is braced at the side of your head, forearm spattered with tattoos burning your peripheral vision. The other holds himself, leading himself into you.

He’s seated fully inside and you feel split down the middle in the best way. Burning fire deep within you and you moan for him to move, creating the friction you need.

He starts moving and you both moan, he tips his head forward to watch where he enters you repeatedly.

“So good, fuck so big Simon.”

“You take it so well, love.”

His hand that once gripped himself holds your hip and moves himself like the ocean, fluid and rhythmic.

“Always dreamt about fucking you, you spread out of my bed while I fuck my cock deep into you.”

You throw your head back and he leans back, the warm air that was between you two leaving for the cold air of the room bringing your nipples to hard peaks which his eyes gravitate to.

“Alright c’mon love.”

He takes your ankles and your legs are on his shoulders. He thrusts that much deeper and hits the right spot to make you see spots.

“You like that, fuck I can see how deep I’m going in you.”

His hand finds your and puts it on your lower stomach and pushes down so you can feel the way he thrusts within you and how deep he reaches, you clench around him.

“Yea you like that.” He's cocky like this, dominant and all controlling. You’re putty in his hand.

“Simon I’m close don't stop please, fuck please.”

He lifts his mask up over his lips and kisses your ankle, biting your calf when he growls and that's all you need to be pushed over the edge.

“Fuck, yea cum on my cock good fucking girl.”

He fucks you through it and leans down to be face to face again. Your legs draped over his shoulders and he hits the right spot with each thrust now, he’s battering you into the mattress and his growling with each thrust muttering about how good you feel and how nicely you wrap about him.

You claw at his chest through his shirt sobbing and babbling and moaning.

“Can’t even form a proper sentence, so drunk on my cock yea? You gonna be a good girl and cum again for me?”

The graphic noises from where the two of you are joining echos through the room and you hope his neighbors aren't home.

“Yes, yes Simon please please please.”

The bed is an orchestra of noises and he shoots a hand up to the headboard, his knuckles gone white from gripping it so hard. Your abdomen is tight, so tight and your so fucking close you just want to cum at the same time as him.

“Fuck fuck fuck, so tight and wet where do you want me to cum, fucking tell me.”

“Inside me, inside me it’s safe.”

Not a beat after that leaves your mouth he’s seating himself so deep within you, you feel him throbbing deep within you and your vision goes blurry, ears gone fuzzy as you both are thrown into the abyss at the same time.

You hear a crack from above you but you pay no mind as your neck deep in pure white hot bliss.

“Fuckin hell love, really. Fuck.” He's panting, you’re panting.

You stroke his chest lovingly as he kisses your ankle as he slowly lowers your legs from his shoulders. He lowers his mask once more.

You glace up to where his hand still grips the headboard and a deep crack is ingrained in the wood.

You laugh.

“Jesus Simon, you fucked me so hard you broke your bed.”

He removes his hand observing the wood and shrugging.

“Well worth it I’d say, I’ll invest in a sturdier one.”

“Are you saying you’ll invite me to your place more often?”

“Your place works too.”

You both banter as you both clean up, you shower and he washes the sheets and hangs around the kitchen, letting you some time to refresh.

You come out of the bathroom smelling like him, drowned in one of his shirts and he's leaned up against his kitchen island gazing blindly at the random rugby channel he turned on.

He slides you a beer and you take it gratefully, bumping your glasses together.

“I mean it Y/N, I’m not the kind of man you might be thinking.”

“No Simon, you’re exactly the man I’m looking for, you’re stuck with me now.”

There's a beat of silence before Simon speaks up again.

“I should probably thank Johnny for tonight right?”

“Yea, he pretty much told me to quit my bitching and confront you.”

He sips his beer,

“Well, for once I can say thank fuck for Soap and his matchmaking skills.”

You laugh and stare at him in adoration, this is the start of something wonderful.

---

Tag list: @theredviolets

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a-girl-withouta-face · 2 years ago

Text

Helluva Boss Chaz SFW/NSFW Headcanons

(AHHHHHHHHHHHHH OMG I JUST REALIZED IM THE FIRST PERSON ON TUMBLR TO WRITE ABOUT CHAZ)

SFW

He’s very good at flirting , he enjoys flirting with you a lot by calling you lots of pet names like “babe” , “baby” , “hot stuff”,“sweet heart” , “beautiful and stuff like “Pretty girl” just anything flirty in general.

He’s pretty tall so most likely you would be definitely shorter then he is so he would tease you for how small you are compared to he is and he would tease you on how you have to get on the tip of your toes to give him a kiss.

Whenever he kisses you , he likes to lean down most of the time so you can reach him but hes gunna bully you first about how you can’t reach him , sometimes he just picks you up for a kiss.

When he kisses you its not one kiss he does it everywhere on your face , your cheeks , lips , nose, forehead and neck(Followed with a dirty smirk) he loves it.

Loves PDA , likes to show you off to everyone around him talking about how hot and amazing you are , it annoys everyone but he doesn’t really give a fuck.

Would 100% love it if you kiss him all over his face but with lip stick on so he can have a bunch of red kiss marks on his cheeks and forehead , he would never take it off cause he wants everyone to know how he’s with the most “Beautiful girl/boy” in the world or atleast thats what he would say.

He likes to wrap his tail around you sometimes.

He gets jealous pretty easily but he doesn’t admit it or anything.

Hugs and likes lot of attention , he loves when you praise him , make sure you give him a bunch of your attention cause he always say stuff like “Aw man” if your busy with something and brushes it off with a smile and a laugh but he low key just really likes you and misses you easily.

Always in the mood to fuck , no matter where it is , what time or anything he will fuck you if you want him to.

He breaks or sneaks into your house sometimes rather you know or don’t know so you guys can fuc- , I mean hang out and cuddle , well both. He’s either gunna break the window open or just find some other way to let himself in , kind of like a surprise date.

Chaz isn’t very smart , like he can’t spell anything to save his life and he hates reading and so on , so sometimes you need to help him spell stuff , it embarasses him a bit

Kiss his nose , like surprise kiss him on the nose of forehead , hes going to blush like crazy and hes just gunna get so happy and all jumpy.

100% pushed you up against the wall or just tried to seduce you to make you nervous and laughs about it after

“Heyyy beautiful , ya miss me?”He smiles with a shit eatting grin on his face.

“Hah yea right...whatever you say you perv.”I chuckle , drinking soda on the chair.

“Oh...C’mon I know you love it”

“Oh don’t get so cocky.”I shake my head with a smile , I turn to him and then my smile drops as soon as I realized he isn’t wearing anything but his briefs. My face turns red from embarrassment and I look away averting my eyes.

“I.....uhm....”I say , he leans in closer , his mischevious smiling reaching ear to ear as he leaned closer against me , he grabs me by the shoulders making me jump a little in shock then he turns me towards him with my hands on my face...

“Oh Whats wrong baby?”He chuckles at his own words , speaking raspy , his voice sounding quite seductive towards you as your eyes scanned his chest still red. What a flirt , he knows what hes doing.

“Its nothing...”I laugh awkwardly blinking for a second.

“Y’know , if you think I’m hot you can just say so~!”

“O-Oh shut up!!!”

NSFW

Praise him , his dick is where most of his ego comes from so his body count is pretty high so he knows your sweet spots better then you do

Very open sexually , he likes most kinks , he’s willing to put little bite marks on your collar bone , shoulder , waist , thighs , wherever whenever.

He likes putting marks on you.

Hes a perverted bastard so if you ever tell him to slow down hes going to grab your hips and push you down, fucking you on his cock even harder

Sends you nudes while your working or doing random things half the time , likes to remind you every day how long his dick is and how much he wants to fuck every time hes horny.

Again a pervert , he would slap your ass sometimes , stare at your cleavage your body distracts him sometimes.

He can’t take his hands off of you , he’s so horny that he worships every part of your body , likes to tease you and flirt with you while you both fuck and its annoying sometimes so you would sit on his face and have him eat you out , whenever he does that you don’t have to even put your hands in his hair cause he’s already grabbing your thighs tight as hell pulling your thighs closer to him so he can lick all your juices.

He likes to make out , so if you ever come inside of his mouth he’ll shove his tongue inside of your mouth so you both get to french kiss and share your juices

If your inside your parents house he would fuck you inside of your closet and cover your mouth so you dont make much noise , making you bounce up and down , if you make too much noise he would start shoving his tongue inside of your mouth while you both make out and fuck at the same time.

King of foreplay

He likes sextoys , if your a women he’d gladly let you fuck him , he’s mostly a top but he doesn’t mind subbing once in a while.

If you fuck him with a strap on with a dick as long as his or even longer he will be moaning like a slut , he comes so fucking much so put a vibrating cock ring and overstimulate him till hes begging for mercy , hes a cocky bastard so sometimes he says stuff like “Aww cat got your tongue” or something cheeky.

If your a virgin , he tries to be gentle but its hard because of the length of his cock so make sure you tell him if hes hurting you.

Likes blind folds and so on.

Wear something tight or very short , its going to get him in the mood , he cant take his eyes off you already so if you walk around showing a bunch of skin hes going to see it as a sign that you want him to fuck you and hes going to be all over you.

He’s sorta loud when having sex makes noise, makes a bunch of noise but hes not all that sensitive though hes just in the middle.

Likes places kisses all over your thighs and tits

Sometimes he leaves hickeys on your neck or somewhere a bit more noticeable so he can tease you after and show everybody how you belong to only him.

When hes lonely he has a stash of your panties that he steals from your drawings that he does stuff with when your not there.

He goes into his photos and strokes his cock while looking at pictures of you , he jerks off to you way more then you think he does.

he likes to tell you all of the dirty things he wants to do to you.

Sometimes he likes telling about his dirty thoughts like pinning you over a table and fucking you , fingering you in public while nobody knows , fucking you in a dressing room and even fucking in an alley way being exited by the thought of risking someone seeing the both of you.

He likes seeing you struggle sucking his cock , hes very girthy and long so he enjoys seeing you gag and how your desperate eyes are , covered in tears whenever he grabs your hair and pushes you forward to take his entire length especially how he enjoys making you drink every last drop of cum

Jokes a lot and likes teasing you while having sex by making lewd remarks about your body like how your tits go up and down with every thrust , how wet you are and how loudly you moan under him.

Whenever hes in the mood he doesn’t care much wherever you guys are , if hes horny hes gunna tell you with the biggest smile on his face.

#Helluva Boss #helluva boss chaz #helluva boss chaz x reader #chaz thurman #chazwick thurman #helluva boss chazwick thurman #helluva boss chaz thurman #chaz x reader #chazwick x reader #chazwick thurman x reader #chaz thurman x reader #chaz smut #chazwick thurman smut #helluva boss x reader #chazwick thurman fluff #helluva boss chazwick thurman x reader #hazbin hotel x reader

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choccy-milky · 6 months ago

Note

OKAY HEAR ME OUT CHOCCY SEB GIVES CLORA A SNAKE RING?!?!

Soooooo rereading the fic and I’m back to chapter 33, and it totally popped into my head that they are IN THE VICTORIAN ERA and do ya know what was super popular after the engagement ring that Queen Victoria was given by Prince Albert? A SNAKE RING

AND IF THAT AINT SEB TREATING CLORA LIKE THE QUEEN SHE IS THEN I DONT KNOW WHAT IS 😭💙💚✨

Thank you for coming to my ted talk 🫣😂

LMFAOO YESS TRUST ME, IVE SEEN THIS AFTER DOING MY OWN RESEARCH ABOUT VICTORIAN RINGS, ITS SO PERFECT!! AND THE FACT THAT ITS GREEN TOO LMAO, prince albert was a possessive slytherin confirmed!!🤪 but yea ill DEFS be incorporating a snake into the final design of cloras ring HAHA. i basically HAVE to...yknow, for period accuracy 🥰

WOO YAY im glad i could inspire you to start writing!!!🙏and i get it, writing fanfic is defs self indulgent and for ourselves first and foremost, but obvs nobody wants to release their work into the void😩 as for how my own fic got popular, one of the main things is defs timing. i published the first chap basically within the first week of the game being out (it came out on the 10th and my chap was on the 18th) so it was there right at the peak/start of the fandom. but i also dont wanna attribute it all to timing BAHHA cuz i think im a pretty good writer and that helps....my fic also didnt get popular right away, but i was consistently posting every single week + eventually started adding art every single week, and was just really dedicated to not only writing but also drawing art for it (which is also obvs another huge factor/probs the biggest factor). ive had so many ppl tell me they started reading my fic bc they saw my art on pinterest or something LOL, and some ppl have even read it fandom-blind bc they were into the seb/clora dynamic??? which is another point actually. i always joke about how i love my cliches and good girl+bad boy dynamics, and that im unashamed about loving them LOL, but also...they're cliches for a reason!!! lots of us eat that shit up!!!😤so i think thats defs another factor, vs if my fic was a bit more niche and avant garde LOL the fandom is also (understandably) a lot slower than it was at the beginning of the year so itll be harder in general, but maybe you could commission art to go with your fanfic? ive seen a lot of other HL fanfic writers do it, and i think it defs helps to draw attention! GOOD LUCK and i hope you keep writing!!!🫡💖💖💖🙌

huh??? go with the tide pods instead, THAT shit looks bussin😩😩

AWW TYY😭😭I LOVE THAT HAHAH AND IM GLAD U THINK SO💖💖 my friend also asked me this question after seeing my recent ask, and i STILL have no idea what i would have named it instead LMAOO, thats how bad i am at naming things. even a year later im like bruh idk!!! clora and sebs bizarre adventures??? i guess id probs make it something light/dark themed in retrospect, or something more specific to the ancient magic, but i still have no idea what LOL

#ok but also just in case it actually needs to be said #DONT CHUG LAUNDRY DETERGENT YALL #ask

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a-kaash-me-outside · 2 years ago

Text

the walls are thin - epilogue

in which atsumu is your college neighbor with whom you share a wall. previous | epilogue [masterlist]

// proudly unpredictable and awestrukenly trusting ~ ᴀᴛsᴜᴍᴜ x ʙᴏᴋᴜᴛᴏ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ~ 12504 ᴡᴏʀᴅs

a look into this chapter: 18+ minors dni omg even more smut, lots of fluff!, established relationships, seriously just a lot of fluff, we get to see all our favs, gatherings, party vibes, threesome, oral m!receive, throat fucking, oral f!receive, slight objectification but its hot?, afab she/her pronouns

a note from ♡ tori ♡: ah okay guys, i can't believe we're finally here. the END of twrt. i really didn't think that it would get this much love and all the interactions really just made me so happy and like would make my days, every week, all the time. tysm and ah, i can't wait for you guys to read THIS. it's like, ah, my fav. <3 <3 <3 can't wait to hear your guys' last thoughts on this silly little fic. ♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡

ever since you woke up 3 hours ago, you’ve been an anxious mess. productive, sure, but still uneasy. even now, you’re tidying, moving about the kitchen, wiping down the counters, putting away dishes, moving with purpose, quick, short movements from task to task.

“can ya stop pacing? it’s making me nervous,” atsumu calls from the living room, clicking his tongue and shaking his head as he emerges in the archway.

“how are you not more nervous already?” you ask, not stopping a single bit, actually pacing more now. before it was a way of getting around between chores, now you’re heel to toe, heel to toe, heel to heel toe until you reach the edge of the invisible barrier between your kitchen and dining room and then you turn 180° and repeat the process again.

it’s much roomier here than the kitchen in your apartment. the distance between your 180s is much longer than you had the luxury of before. you’re grateful for that, more time to overthink before spinning around.

you’re grateful for a lot of things in this kitchen compared to the last. the countertops are much nicer, shinier, easier to clean. the cupboards are roomier, don’t slam as loudly. the sink is big, spacious, with a spraying feature that actually gets the food off of the dishes. the stove has gas burners and there are two ovens instead of one really shitty one (though, those were a part of the non negotiable luxuries list you and atsumu came up with months ago). the fridge makes ice without having to fill the trays and the freezer has built-in shelves.

you’re grateful for the little things scattered around the kitchen too, the things that make it feel like home. the electric kettle is a matte sage and it matches your tea green dishware. the two cacti on the window sill, the hanging flowers to the right of the sink. photos of you and atsumu and friends, stupid lovey notes, oikawa and iwaizumi’s save the date, all attached to the fridge with tasteful souvenir magnets. the notepad on the freezer door where you and atsumu write your meal plan for the week. a dry erase calendar sprinkled with events in both yours and atsumu’s handwriting.

“hey, c’mon,” he says, walking over to you, reaching out his hand and wrapping it around your wrist gently to stop your repetitive motions. “makin’ me dizzy too.” he lets your hand fall as you stop, walking a few more steps away from him, deeper into the kitchen.

you huff, leaning your lower back against the cool countertop, heels digging into the tile floor as you cross your arms over your chest. “seriously, tsumu, how are you not nervous?”

he leans against the adjacent counter, palms gripping the edge, “what exactly are you worried about?”

“i don’t know,” you mumble, head tilting forward slowly, base leaving your spine, chin coming into soft contact with your chest as you take a deep breath.

you can’t see atsumu as he moves towards you, too busy looking down at your feet, but his voice is close to you as he speaks, “yea you do.” it’s soft, knowing, but patient.

“i just…,” you trail off. atsumu waits a few moments, trying to let you articulate whatever you’re feeling and wherever your worries are stemming from, but you look up at him and you’re not making any attempts to explain, so he tries to fill it in.

“everyone will get along, i promise. i know it’s been awhile, but that doesn’t mean that-,” he starts explaining.

you cut him off, shaking your head, “no it’s not that…”

“then what, baby?” he asks, nudging your legs apart, stepping in between them until the outsides of his thighs are pressed against the insides of yours. he grips onto the counter on either side of your hips.

you speak, small and somewhat under your breath, “we haven’t seen everyone in too long, i just really want everything to go well so i can enjoy the night.”

“come here,” he wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest, smoothing his hand over your hair as he presses a soft kiss onto the top. you let him move you, embrace you, wrapping your arms around his waist and finally taking a much needed deep breath.

you’re already feeling so much better, but he keeps explaining, “we get to see friends, some that we haven’t seen in years, all in one place, under this roof, our roof,” he pulls you back gently, kissing your cheek and then your cheekbones, “we own this roof,” he says, kissing you again and you giggle, “and we get to just hang out and play stupid games and catch up with everyone.”

atsumu steps back from you, interlocking his fingers with yours and spinning you around until your back is pressed up against his chest, swaying with you. “and we will play terrible music and feel so weird when two obscure friends talk to each other and we don’t even have to worry about stupid downstairs neighbors,” he says, spinning you back so he can see your adorable face again, watch the worry melt right off of it as he often gets to do because he’s so good at the melting, “and everyone will give us gifts, some really cool and some really bad, and we get to just have a really great night with everyone all in exchange for hours of veggie prep and hundreds of dollars in sliced meats and days of setting up and coming days of cleaning up.”

well, fuck, you can’t even remember why you were so worried a second ago.

“we still have so much work to do before everyone shows up at 6,” you note, no longer hurriedly anxious but still aware of how quickly time seems to pass when you’re being smothered in kisses by atsumu. your eyes flick to the clock above the stove that reads 10:15 am, but you don’t move an inch. even after all of this time, you’re still painfully aware of how difficult it is to unravel from a comforting atsumu.

bzz bzz. atsumu sits up, kisses your forehead quickly, and then walks back to the living room where his phone is buzzing. well, maybe it’s not so difficult for him. you almost yell out a pout, but realize that this sudden interruption should probably be welcomed, allowing you to actually focus on getting the house perfectly ready.

“hey,” atsumu says into the phone, muffled by the distance of being two rooms over now. “yea.” … “great!” … “okay.” …. “alright.” …. “okay. see you then.” …. “love you too.”

you scan your list of things to do, open the fridge to truly take in the quantity of vegetables and amount of side prepping you have to do, put the last dishes from the dishwasher away, and make a tiny note to remind atsumu to grab the mini burners from the basement. “who was that?” you call out.

“god, it’s a good thing we did all the shopping yesterday, or you’d be an even bigger mess today,” atsumu says, popping into the kitchen again, jumping up onto your freshly cleaned counter.

you throw him a look, eyes narrowed and jaw open in faux shock. “i literally just cleaned that,” you say, gesturing to the counter he is now sitting on, “also, i probably would be a smaller mess if someone was a bit more helpful.” you can’t help your smile as he shrugs his shoulders, playing along. just as you spent the entire morning cleaning the kitchen, atsumu had spent the entire morning cleaning the living room. the two of you both knew this.

you walk over to him. “can’t believe i’ve had to do everything today,” you shake your head at him, smile even wider as he leans forward and kisses it. “in return, i’d like you to go downstairs and find those stupid burners and also bring up the extra tables so i can set them.”

even amidst the chaos, clock ticking down with your to-do list still impossibly full, atsumu has a way of pulling you into these small moments. he always has, your entire relationship. it doesn’t matter what you were worried about, how you were feeling, what you were doing, he always creates space for you and him to just enjoy each other.

most of the time, just like this time, it comes in the form of teasing and poking fun. “y’know,” you tack on, leaning forward and kissing him back, “because you haven’t really done anything,” you explain.

he wraps his arms around your waist, leans back pulling you with him, kissing the side of your face, “oh is that so?”

you squirm to get out of his arms, but he holds tight, laughing now as he continues to press kiss after kiss after kiss wherever he can reach. “yes! it is so!!” you yell, laughter making it nearly unintelligible.

“right, the living room cleaned itself?” he asks.

you can’t stop laughing as you quip back, “magic, maybe.”

he lets you go completely now and shakes his head at you. “just like the table is going to magically find its way up here?” he asks, tilting his head.

you place your hands on his knees. “nope. that’s all you,” you tease.

knock knock knock. the fear creeps up on you quickly, all rational thought leaving in an instant as you worry about how much time could have passed, wrong information you could’ve sent out, unexpected people that it could be.

the crooked smile on atsumu’s face combats it instantly. “it’s a good thing i recruited back up then, huh?” atsumu says, nodding in the vague direction of your front door. your eyebrows knit together in confusion, but atsumu doesn’t say anything else, nods in the same direction again.

you make your way to the front door, tip toeing on perfectly cleaned hardwood floors and over brand new decorative rugs. just a week ago, this place was filled with boxes and disassembled furniture. now, in their places are the trinkets that filled them and the put together pieces.

the front door doesn’t even have a chance to open completely before you’re jumping into his arms, squeak of excitement leaving you, hanging off of his neck. whatever he was holding in his arms is set gently onto the ground so that he’s able to reciprocate the tightness of the hug.

you pull back, eyes wide and smile even wider before wrapping your arms around him once more and hugging him even tighter. you’re so enveloped in his embrace that you don’t hear atsumu approach behind you, only notice that he’s there when he scoffs loudly.

“what was one of the first things i said when you learned that he existed?” atsumu jokingly scolds. you pull away from your hug, half turning to see atsumu’s smitten smile and teasing head shakes. “i said that you weren’t allowed to like my brother more than me.”

you take a step back from the doorway, allowing osamu to actually step into the house. osamu reaches down to pick up his bags, one neatly packaged reusable kitchen bag and a just as neatly packaged gift bag. “that is somethin’ he usually has to say,” osamu says, looking in your direction, “when people meet atsumu first, it sets the bar pretty low.”

atsumu reaches forward to hit the side of osamu’s head, but osamu ducks out of the way like he’s been anticipating it from the moment the thought popped into his head. “besides, most people can’t help it,” osamu loudly whispers to you, smirking, “i’m just the better twin.”

“never shoulda invited ya,” atsumu shakes his head.

“but i’m so much help,” osamu replies, leaving his shoes neatly to the right of the door.

“yea, you’re just in time to go get stuff from the basement,” atsumu points out, nodding towards the basement door down the hallway.

“oh, absolutely not,” you step in front of atsumu’s nodding, blocking the view to the basement as if to prove a point. “samu’s gonna help me in the kitchen because duh and also so he can tell me all about the onigiri miya drama,” you explain to atsumu, shifting your weight forward onto the tips of your toes and smiling huge.

“god, i made a mistake inviting you over to help prep, didn’t i?” atsumu asks, but you’re already pulling osamu by the forearm into the kitchen, loudly excited to tell him every little detail about your new kitchen.

“you remember the old kitchen, right?”

“yea, of course, was kinda shitty.”

“i know, i know, but look! look at this, samu, 2 ovens.”

“gas stove too?”

“yea! works much better with the pans you got tsumu and i last christmas.”

“oh! do ya wanna see the housewarming gift i got ya?”

“now?!”

“why not?”

“then, yea! duh!”

nope. definitely not a mistake.

atsumu peaks his head into the archway with every intention of telling you that he’s heading to the basement and asking you if you could think of anything else that was down there that he needed to bring up. instead, he gets to watch this scene unfold, doesn’t dare to interrupt as you tear the tissue paper out of the bag, throw it onto the floor that you were so worried about moments ago, dig your hand around inside to feel for the contents, and then pull out a wooden box. “no way,” you say under your breath, turning quickly to set it down on the counter with excessive care. “my own?”

“come on, yn, every time you and sumu were at my place when ya came to visit, ya wouldn’t stop talkin’ about it,” osamu says, beaming, watching you closely as you gently pop open the latch.

“yea but then i went home and tsumu and i looked up how much it was and then we couldn’t stop randomly bringing up how much you spent on a fucking knife for 3 weeks straight,” you explain, shaking your head. you reach down into the box, running your fingers over the engraving on the side and it takes everything in you not to burst into tears as you read it. miya.

“i heard ya had a lot of veggies to prep,” osamu says, shrugging, “you’ll get enough use out of it today alone, i bet.”

“this is insane, samu, fuck,” you say, turning towards him and hugging him for the third time today already. “thank you so much.”

“of course,” osamu says, hugging you back.

“not really a gift for tsumu, though, huh?” you ask.

“the gift for sumu was how happy it makes you,” he replies without missing a beat, as if he actually thought it all the way through when buying it, saw the price tag, and took into account how happy his brother would be if he bought it for you. you can’t stop smiling.

the food prep flies by, not just because of your incredible new knife, but also because of the company. it’s actually been hours by the time you get everything washed, chopped, prepped, and plated, but the entire time was spent catching up on months worth of onigiri miya drama and the trips that you and atsumu had recently taken.

the second that the door to the basement closes, you lean in close to osamu, “so how is it going with that girl who keeps coming in right before closing?” you don’t have to be as close as you are to osamu to notice how flustered he gets instantly.

“i’m gonna switch jobs with sumu,” osamu threatens, shaking his head as he brings packages of vegetables to the sink.

you follow right along. “evading the question is just going to make it worse,” you explain.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replies, evidently evading the question.

“the last you told me, she was still coming in and you were still staying open just to make her food,” you say, turning off the faucet so that he pays attention to you. “is that still happening?” he doesn’t respond. “you have to at least give me that!”

he sighs, turning his attention to you. “the second that atsumu walks up those stairs, you don’t say another word about this,” he says, finger in your face.

“deal! deal deal deal!” you say, nodding along. “is it still happening?”

“and,” he adds, “you let me wash the veggies while we talk about this.” you reach over and turn the faucet on again, smiling. he continues, “yes, it’s still happening.”

“have you told her that you like her?” you ask, not contributing a single bit to the prep that osamu is doing.

“well, i’m not 12, so, no?” he replies.

you hit his shoulder, “you don’t have to be 12 to have a crush on someone, samu. but, seriously, do you get that vibe?”

“probably just hungry after work or something,” osamu mumbles.

“so nothing has happened since we last talked that would make it seem like maybe she’s into you?” you ask, squinting at him despite the fact that his attention is solely on washing the bunches of broccoli.

you hear the sound of ascending steps from the basement, the door knob jiggle open, and you know osamu does too as he quickly says, “i mean, maybe the one time we were chatting until 4 am.” the door squeaks open and osamu raises his eyebrows at you and shakes his head. you will get this information out of him later.

it’s not long until it’s just a few short hours of everyone arriving. the decorating is mostly done, the food is prepped in the fridge, the tables are mostly set up. you entrust the rest of the prep to the miya twins- which might be a terrible idea, you’ll have to see once you come back downstairs- as you go upstairs to get yourself ready.

“i will keep an eye on him,” osamu says, flinging his arm around atsumu.

atsumu instantly pushes osamu’s arm off of him, shaking his head and reaching to smack the side of his head again. “it’s my house!” atsumu yells, missing once again and then instantly trying to hit him again. when osamu keeps moving out of the way, atsumu jumps at osamu, sending the two of them flying backwards and into one of the tables that needs to be finished setting up. the table bumps against the wall and even from your place on the stairs, you can see the ding in the freshly painted wall.

atsumu and osamu look at the wall and then up at you, waiting to see how you’ll react and how much they should start blaming each other. you just laugh, “the first of many, i suppose.” and then you make your way upstairs.

/++/

5:39pm and you walk downstairs, breath held because you’re not exactly sure what the state of the house is going to be in, but whatever expectations that you had are surpassed. everything looks exactly how you want it to look.

atsumu and osamu are standing side by side looking down at the large, mostly empty table where, in an hour’s time, your closest friends will be gathered, enjoying food and each other’s company. “i still think we should just set up the broths and vegetables,” atsumu says.

your torn between pulling out the camera or committing this adorable scene to memory, atsumu and osamu in the same exact pose, arms folded across their chests, posture mimicked, head tilted to the same degree. you opt for the camera. it’s more replicable that way, more provable.

it’s over all too soon, osamu bumping his shoulder into atsumu’s and shaking his head. “i told ya already, stupid,” osamu jeers, “if people aren’t eatin’ for another hour, there’s no need to bring em out yet. ya don’t even have to do anything, just hafta take the plastic wrap off of em.”

“yeah, but when we’re-,” atsumu starts to argue.

“yer wrong, just be wrong, sumu,” osamu interrupts.

atsumu moves to hit him again, but you speak up, “we can just bring it out when everyone arrives and settles.” the two of them turn to face you and atsumu can’t help the smitten face that quickly takes over, doesn’t even have the heart to argue with you right now. “seriously, everything looks great, guys, thank you.”

osamu sends back a quick, not a problem that you don’t have a chance to reply to, because atsumu meets you in two quick strides, kissing the side of your cheek. “you look a lot less stressed,” he says against your skin and then moves to pull away. osamu, the most perfect man in the world who can read any room and react with impeccable timing, tells the two of you that he’s going to finish cleaning up the prep mess in the kitchen.

you place both of your hands on either side of atsumu’s face, pulling him to kiss you. “you’re really good to me, y’know that?” you ask.

“ya look really good tonight, y’know that?” he asks back.

you shake your head at his evaded question. you know that he knows that. you kiss him again. “don’t you have to get ready? people are going to walk through that door any minute.”

“yes,” he says quickly, kisses you once more, and is then bounding up the stairs, “i’ll be 10 minutes tops!” he yells from your bedroom.

/++/

atsumu is the third person that shows up to your party and that’s not including you and osamu. the first person that shows up is maki at 5:58pm because, sure, he could’ve waited for those 2 minutes and shown up right on time, but that would’ve been 2 minutes that he could’ve been spending with you. he earns a hug just as hard as osamu, harder even, longer, despite the fact that you saw maki just last week when he helped you move in.

“you’re early, y’know that?” you ask when you pull away. maki steps inside of your house as if he’s been there a million times, leaves his shoes right next to osamu’s and nods.

“2 whole minutes,” maki replies, shrugging, “issei’s on his way and i’m sure oikawa and iwa will be late,” he informs you and you nod along. sure, maki had helped you move in, but he hadn’t gotten to see your house put together like it is now. he takes the liberty of exploring the rooms of the ground floor and you follow him around as you ask him how his drive was.

when you make it into the kitchen, excited to start rattling off everything about it that you love, osamu is in there casually on his phone. osamu and maki had met before, several times. it was inevitable, really, the most important person in your life other than atsumu and the most important person in his life other than you knowing one another. and you’re grateful for the fact that you don’t need to introduce or entertain the two of them as they instantly start a conversation because someone is already at the door and atsumu is nowhere to be seen.

the second person that shows up at your party is kita at 6:00pm on the dot. you know everyone that’s coming to the party, but you know kita the least and yet, the second that he starts talking, you feel like you’ve known him forever. you’ve only really met one other time, but kita steps inside and tells you how gorgeous the entryway to your house is and hands you a small gift and you understand very quickly why atsumu and osamu have raved about this person for years.

atsumu makes his way downstairs, quickly and haphazardly and almost falling on his ass, at 6:14pm. he just barely beats out sakusa and hinata who show up together at 6:15pm. in fact, he’s there to greet them at the door with you. they’re the first people that you greet as a couple and it, along with the soft chatter in the kitchen from osamu, maki, and kita, is making the night feel very real.

sakusa and hinata don’t need any introductions or hand-holding. even though they have never been in your house, they make themselves feel at home, walking in and leaving the two of you in the doorway as they explore. “this is crazy, right?” you ask atsumu, unable to focus on one conversation that’s happening and it’s filling you with a joy that is unmatched.

he answers by pressing a kiss into your forehead and nodding down the hall where hinata is touching something that he maybe shouldn’t be and sakusa is scolding him, something about how he’s so glad bo isn’t here yet. you can’t help but laugh, taking a single step in their direction before the next person is knocking on the door.

issei shows up at 6:16pm. he’s the first person to say the word, congratulations! to the two of you and it feels warm on your mind and in your chest. “maki’s already here, right? he said he was coming early to see you,” issei says, peering down your hallway.

“two minutes, issei,” you say, shaking your head, “he was two minutes early and it’s a good thing too, because i haven’t been able to spare anything other than those two minutes.”

“ah, there’s that college you,” issei jokes, pulling you in for a hug, “i knew it was in there somewhere, that interesting mixture of super stressed and in love with atsumu.” you narrow your eyes at him, but can’t get a comeback out as he continues, “where’s kawa and hajime, anyway?”

“come on,” you check your imaginary watch, “it’s still practically six o’clock.”

“true, but iwa did say that he was really going to try to get oikawa here on time,” issei notes as you shut the door behind him.

“and i’m saying that even really trying, there’s no way oikawa shows up before 7pm,” you shoot back and pull issei into the direction of the kitchen. you make quick eye contact with atsumu who gives you a warm smile and gestures towards the living room, making his way over there as soon as you return an affirming nod.

“i know you’re right, but sometimes i just want to have faith in them, y’know,” issei says, the two of you entering the kitchen. maki immediately (and politely) leaves his current conversation to join you guys when he sees you.

“who?” maki asks, quickly and very nosy.

“hajime trying to get oikawa here early,” you reply.

“oh, there’s no way that oikawa shows up before 7pm,” maki says matter-of-factly.

you grab onto his shoulder, nodding with your whole body because it’s really nice to have someone in your life who understands you as much as maki does. “that’s what i said!!!!”

the three of you catch up as much as three people who are in four different group chats and who talk to each other every day can catch up with one another. it is different, though. you hadn’t seen issei in months and maki hadn’t seen him in almost as long as you and you feel like you’re back in college in the best way possible and you really wish oikawa and iwaizumi were here.

you’re so immersed in your conversation that you actually don’t hear the door open. instead, you hear the voices traveling from the foyer, through the halls, and to the kitchen at 6:43pm.

“i don’t think you’re supposed to just walk in, rin,” you hear a familiar voice at the front door.

“well, then, maybe they should lock their door, aran,” you hear a different familiar voice reply.

you excuse yourself, walking to go greet the two people at the door. atsumu beats you to it, practically running down the hallway and pulling aran and then suna into a half hug. “yo, careful, atsumu, geez,” suna pokes, but hugs him right back. “you’re gonna break whatever this gift is.”

“how do you not know what it is?” atsumu asks, grabbing the large bag from him.

“because rin just asked if we could get something together so he wouldn’t have to go shopping,” aran says before suna could offer any sort of bullshit excuse. suna doesn’t deny it then, only lets a knowing, lazy smile creep onto his face.

“yea, guilty,” suna shrugs, “but to be fair, it was really expensive, whatever it is.”

aran nods, “it was really expensive.”

atsumu shakes his head, “you guys really didn’t hafta get us anything.”

“i mean, if it was just you, we wouldn’t have,” suna explains, looking passed atsumu and walking towards you. “thanks for havin’ us.”

you are pulled into two more hugs. you should have been keeping count of the amount of hugs you’re giving out tonight because the number is definitely getting up there and you’re not sure that it’s going to stop anytime soon.

“of course,” you reply, “thank you for whatever this really expensive gift is.”

“yea, whatever it is,” suna laughs.

you rest your hand on aran’s shoulder, “kita’s already here and osamu’s been here all day.”

“what? where was our all day invite?” suna asks.

“we’re literally here 45 minutes late, rin,” aran says, face unphased but voice questioning.

“yea, and you wouldn’t have helped,” atsumu tacks on.

“alright, yea,” suna says and the four of you walk into the kitchen. you note in your head that another thing you’re very grateful for about this kitchen is how much bigger it is than your last one, the open connection to the dining area granting the ability to fit everyone without having to worry about being too cramped.

you note the different groups of people forming, the different conversations that are taking place. you’re still playing host right now, walking from group to group and adding a few words or giving a side hug or asking if anyone wants a drink.

“who else is coming?” aran asks when you interrupt his conversation with kita and sakusa.

“oh, my friends, oikawa and iwaizumi, and then bo, i think, right?” you answer and ask atsumu across the room.

“yup,” atsumu nods, returning his attention to the conversation that he’s having with issei and suna.

“oikawa and iwaizumi are usually this late, but i’m not sure why bo is so late,” you say, thoughtful, but then shrug your shoulders. as if on cue, there is a knock at the door. “oh! that’s probably him.”

you rush over to the door and are very surprised to see oikawa and iwaizumi at 7:02pm. “i’m sorry that we’re late. i really tried this time,” iwaizumi says, looking at oikawa with a death stare rather than you with an apologetic one. you laugh, shaking your head. you hug them both, one arm around each of their necks as you squeeze them tight.

you hadn’t seen them even longer than you hadn’t seen issei, almost an entire year. sure, you kept in contact all the time, but you hadn’t physically been able to hug them and see them in far too long. they had just been much too busy with life and travel and wedding plans and life. “‘ts fine, but you’re staying later to make up for it,” you reply, still not letting go.

“oh, we’re staying in town for a few days, actually,” oikawa smiles, “surprise?”

“oh my god!” you say, indeed surprised. “that’s incredible!”

“yeah, atsumu helped us set the whole thing up the second we even made a mention in passing,” oikawa explains.

“guess that’s why kawa thought it would be okay to be the last people here?” iwaizumi says, evidently still playfully bitter about the fact that oikawa made them late again.

“actually,” you say, “not the last people to get here. somehow.”

“dammit! no way?” iwaizumi says in disbelief. you’re about to question why that’s such a bad thing, but oikawa’s sweet smile contorts into mischief and told ya so.

“ha! pay up! i told you, hajime,” oikawa says, poking his finger into the side of iwaizumi’s cheek.

“ridiculous,” iwaizumi shakes his head, “who else?”

“oh, just bokuto. i’m still really not sure why he’s so late. i thought you guys were him,” you reply, shaking your head. “i’ll send him a text-.”

“hajime,” oikawa says monotonously, cutting you off, “pay. up.”

“what? not here?” iwaizumi says, shaking his head, eyebrows furrowed like oikawa has just asked for something he should not have. knowing oikawa, he probably did exactly that.

“yes, here. pay up!” oikawa says, nodding back in the direction that they came from. you tilt your head curiously, wanting to ask questions, but just letting whatever is happening unfold.

“absolutely not,” iwaizumi refuses.

“no, because i said that-,” oikawa starts, finger in iwaizumi’s face once again.

“okay, okay, fine,” iwaizumi gives in. you’ve known the two of them long enough to know exactly what’s going through iwaizumi’s brain. there were times before that he didn’t give in to oikawa as quickly as this, but all three of you know that when oikawa starts droning on about whatever he said, it never ends in iwaizumi getting his way.

“it’s in the car,” oikawa smiles.

“i’ll be back,” iwaizumi grumbles, turning around and then he��s gone again.

you choose not to ask any questions because oikawa is not responding to your very confused face and instead starts asking you about your new home. you only get halfway into a partial conversation when iwaizumi shows back up at the door, shaking his head, sighing heavily with a white t-shirt that reads oikawa was right. “perfect,” oikawa says, placing his palm against the words and patting softly.

he walks down the hallway on his toes, swaying back and forth proudly, “issei, come look at this stupid fucking shirt that hajime’s wearing!” within seconds, issei appears in the hallway, attacking oikawa with a hug and then pointing at iwaizumi, shaking his head and laughing. maki follows behind with less force, but all of his composure vanishes the second he sees the shirt.

“god, i can’t believe i get to marry that idiot,” iwaizumi says softly and you know that if anyone else were standing here with him, he wouldn’t have let it slip out into the air, but he knows that you get it more than anyone.

once everyone is settled, back into small groups conversing, you take out your phone to shoot bokuto a text message to at least ask him where he’s at. he responds in seconds.

> bokkun ♡ / 7:14 pm> SORRY. walking up now ♡♡♡♡♡♡

“well, well, well,” you say, clicking your tongue as you open the door. you’re there before he’s even knocked. “you’re very late, bokuto.”

“i’m sorry! i’m sorry,” he says, leaning down and wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you into an enveloping, warm, tight hug. “but i have a good reason?” he says as he steps back.

emerging from behind him is akaashi with an almost embarrassed, sheepish smile.

“oh my god! i haven’t seen you in so long! ah!” you say, greeting him with a hug as well. it’s less warm, more friendly than bokuto’s, and you can feel how nervous he is. you met akaashi a few times before and really hit it off. he was easily one of your favorite people even though you’ve known him much less than some of the other people at this party. but he didn’t live in the area and neither of you were very good at keeping up with each other.

“i’m sorry i dropped by uninvited, but bokuto said that it would be okay and-,” akaashi smiles apologetically.

“of course it’s okay!” you say, pulling him inside.

“well, okay, i didn’t bring kaashi so that you would ignore me,” bokuto says, stepping inside on your other side, throwing his arm around your shoulder and pulling you into his side.

“me? ignore you? come on, you’ve gotta be joking,” you tease, wrapping your arms around his neck, practically hanging off of him. “tsumu!” you yell excitedly, walking as quickly as you can with bokuto attached to your hip into the living room where everyone has migrated, “bo is here!” you emerge from the hallway. “and look who he brought!”

you’re so excited to start introducing anyone who doesn’t know akaashi to akaashi because everyone loves akaashi, but just as you’re about to start pointing everyone out and giving names to faces, akaashi speaks, soft and timid in this room of so many people, but clear nonetheless. “samu?”

osamu’s head swivels around quickly, following that voice that he evidently knows so well, because the word is already coming out of his mouth, before he’s even made eye contact with him. “keiji?” there are conversations still happening, people still chatting, but a few of them stop, and most importantly you hear it and notice it.

“you two know each other?” bokuto asks, surprised and excited all in one.

for you, it’s more about figuring out what’s happening than being excited and happy that they already know each other. “you two know each other that well?” you question.

osamu turns away, tilts his head down to the floor and clears his throat, but akaashi isn’t that quick. you watch the blush spread across his nose and cheeks.

“yeah, i work near onigiri miya and i usually stop there after work,” akaashi explains, “samu- er, osamu is usually kind enough to let me stay and eat while he cleans up.”

it all clicks.

you can’t stop the expression from creeping onto your face. the warning glance that osamu sends your way is just more proof of how heavily it’s showing. you have so many questions, need so many answers, at the very least want some sort of confirmation that you are as right about this as you feel and akaashi gives you just that.

he laughs, light and airy, and you can see the effects that it has on osamu. “just the other day he let me stay until like,” akaashi lowers his head, slightly embarrassed, “i had a really annoying day at work and he let me hang out in the restaurant until like 4 in the morning. and you had to be in at like 9 the next day, didn’t you?” he asks osamu.

“oh, even earlier, actually,” osamu teases back, “like 7 or something ridiculous.”

akaashi shakes his head, tucks a piece of hair behind his ear and exhales, “i’m not even going to make any promises that i won’t do it again.”

“well, i would never ask that of ya,” osamu says and you can feel how genuine it is and it’s not even pointed at you.

atsumu shoots you a questioning look, very aware of the silent exchanges between you and osamu. you shoot him back a wide-eyed, excited expression and mouth the word, later to him. atsumu nods back at you, gives you a quick thumbs up, and then continues talking with hinata, sakusa, aran, and suna.

osamu and akaashi practically don’t talk to anyone else that night, moving over to the quiet corner of the living room. osamu takes it upon himself to drag him into the kitchen, to grab him a drink, to ask him about work, and to tell him that he looks really nice tonight.

“it’s just because i’m actually freshened up,” akaashi reasons.

“no way.”

“yes way. you usually see me after an 8 hour shift.”

“or maybe it’s just because i always think it, but we’re finally outside of my restaurant and so i can say things like that.”

a pause. “well, i think you look better in your onigiri miya shirt.”

“oh is that so, keiji?”

“yeah. you look good in black.”

“well, i’ll have to keep that in mind.”

now that everyone is here, you’re leaving host mode. everyone is settled. everyone is having their own conversations. everyone looks like they’re genuinely enjoying themselves. you scan the people, the different groups that everyone is forming and then reforming. it’s weird, but deeply moving, to see every single facet of your life come together like this. people that would have otherwise never have met, all together in the same room. interactions that you never could have predicted, going really well. and all within these walls, your walls.

everyone eats and everyone laughs and you get to show off your new knife to everyone and halfway through the night, atsumu pulls you into his lap and wraps his arms around your waist, and you know that this night was meant to see everyone and mingle, but you’re not sure that you want to move from this very spot for the rest of the night and neither does he. in fact, he orders osamu around from his place at the table, telling osamu to clear the table and to grab the game that’s in the cabinet of the tv stand.

osamu doesn’t want to listen, really, he doesn’t, but akaashi starts walking towards the tasks before osamu can refuse. akaashi helps clear the dishes and laughs when atsumu starts yelling at osamu for making akaashi do his work and before you know it, everyone is at the table and all of the dishes are in the sink and the food is put away and there is two stacks of cards in the middle of everyone.

“game’s real easy, even samu can play,” atsumu explains, nodding towards the colorful cards. osamu doesn’t even bite back, just seems happy to be sharing a bench with akaashi. “someone draws a question card and they have to answer it or drink unless someone at the table uses their veto card which they can accrue more of by doing the dares in the other card pile, got it?”

everyone nods. “honestly, we’ve never played with this many people or this many veto cards, so it should be interesting,” you say.

“so, basically, no one is getting out of not answering a question,” sakusa replies.

“that is definitely what that means,” aran agrees.

“alright, atsumu should go first,” osamu says, “it’s only fair.”

“fine, fine,” atsumu says, waving his hand, grabbing a card from the pile, “who is the worst dressed person in this room?” he reads. “okay, actually, a lot of them are like this and there are a lot of people here.”

“well, are you going to drink or answer it?” kita asks.

“you gotta answer it,” hinata says.

“well, someone would be stupid to use their veto on this anyway, because it’s obviously iwa,” atsumu answers quickly, shaking his head and throwing the card down. iwaizumi nods in agreement as oikawa stands up in his seat.

“hey! that shirt is the best piece of clothing hajime owns!” oikawa says.

plenty of insults fly across the table as the game continues. atsumu wasn’t lying. a lot of the cards are very similar in nature, just calling out people in the room for various things like being a bad kisser or still being caught up on an ex. no one even has to use a veto card. they’re all harmless enough, poking fun and joking around, or no one cares enough to force someone to answer.

until it’s your turn.

you reach forward, getting out of atsumu’s lap for just a second to draw the card before he’s pulling you back into him. you and atsumu read the question at the same time, but atsumu reacts much quicker than you do, laughing loudly. if he had been drinking something when you pulled the card, he would have made a huge mess.

“what does it say?” maki asks, nosy, trying to peer over your shoulder and at the card before you read it.

you move away from him, cheeks warm, hoping, praying, if there’s a god out there, that no one uses their veto. you move your hand, ready to drink already as you read, “if you could have sex with any of your partner’s friends, who would it be?”

the only people in the room that aren’t laughing are akaashi and kita and even they are giggling and wide eyed at the question. “i’m drinking,” you say, already bringing the cup to your lips.

“not so fast,” oikawa says, slamming his veto card down on the table, “i’m sure i’m not the only person who would have done this anyway. and besides, i can use hajime’s card later if i need it.”

“no, you will not,” iwaizumi scoffs.

“fine, then you want me to take my card back?” oikawa asks.

“no, obviously not, i want to know yn’s answer,” iwaizumi laughs, directing his attention back to you. in fact, everyone’s attention is on you.

“i don’t think this question was designed to be played when every one of my partner’s closest friends are in the same room?” you challenge.

“tough shit, answer the question,” suna says, pointing his finger in your direction.

“right, and to clarify, that doesn’t include people that used to just be your friends like iwa and maki,” issei says, “because then obviously we know your answer would be me.”

you shake your head, ignoring his comment and taking a deep breath, “this is so stupid.”

“come on, ya gotta play the game,” osamu jeers.

atsumu squeezes your waist, pressing a kiss into the back of your shoulder, “yea, babe, you gotta play the game.” you turn your head and narrow your eyes at him.

“ridiculous that the first thing you two agree on is making me answer this in front of everyone right now,” you scold.

“just get it over with,” atsumu teases, “it’s not hard. even i know it.”

“no you don’t,” you scoff.

“so there is someone on your mind right now?” maki says, leaning forward as if that will make the answer come faster.

“i-,” you start, but anything that you could think of saying would just dig this hole deeper. “well, i-.”

“come on, just say it,” sakusa pokes.

your eyes flick over to him quickly, face burning, absolutely radiating heat now, you’re sure. and you’re sure that everyone can tell how flustered you’re getting, because there is an obvious answer in your mind, one that’s been in your mind since the moment you met him.

“obviously, it’s bokkun,” you mumble and atsumu, true to his word, does know it. he says the name right alongside you, laughing at how perfectly the syllables align. you and atsumu seem to be the only two people at this table that are expecting this answer because the rest of the table is in an uproar now. symphonies of what?!?!?! and bokuto?!!?! and what about me?!?? arise in stereo.

“me?” bokuto asks, floored and flustered in a way that affirms your answer perfectly. you’re feeling just as shy as before and everyone is screaming around you and at atsumu and each other and bokuto, but you offer a small nod to bokuto, just to bokuto, and you watch him attempt, and fail, to hide a smile.

after everything calms down, you’re able to play a few more rounds, thankfully not getting any other question that tops that one, not even when you get the question that reads, was your ex good in bed? and you answered a quick yes and then pushed forward.

the clock is ticking down, the night is getting later and later and as the game is packed up and put back in its safe place beneath the tv, people start to trickle home. hinata and sakusa, issei, kita, aran and suna. you offer goodbyes and thank you for comings and when you walk oikawa, iwaizumi, and maki to the door, you say a very sincere, “i don’t want it to be this long until we do something like this again.”

“come on,” oikawa says, shaking his head, “hajime and i are getting married in less than two months.” oikawa lifts his hand, showing off his dainty ring as if you forgot that they were engaged.

“shit, it’s already that close?” you ask.

“yea,” oikawa nods along, smiling, “most of those dumbasses are invited too, so, it won’t be long, i promise. it’ll be louder, and i’ll be the happiest i’ve ever been, but it won’t be too long.”

you nod, hugging oikawa tightly and then iwaizumi and then maki. “seriously, thank you guys for coming.”

“wouldn’t miss it for the world,” maki says, smiling, “i’m crashing your guys’ lunch tomorrow, so i’ll see you then.”

“obviously,” you reply, locking the door behind them once they’ve left.

the only people left in your living room that don’t live there are bokuto, akaashi, and osamu. before you can make your way back in there, atsumu grabs your forearm and pulls you into him, kissing you hard, hand cupping your cheek, fingers scratching over your jaw.

“what was that for?” you ask when he finally pulls away.

“because i can,” he shrugs, and you take that as an okay to start to move again, but he holds you in place, “and because look at this house we own together, isn’t that crazy?”

you laugh, “yes, yes it is.” you wait to see if there’s anything else.

there is.

“and because i trust you more than anything in this world.”

you cock your head. “okay…,” you say, hesitant.

“and if you want to have sex with bokuto tonight, i would be okay with that,” atsumu finishes, proudly unpredictable and awestruckenly trusting.

you physically have to jump back, unable to process that sentence any other way. “what?!” you ask, loudly, and atsumu can’t stop laughing, shushing you and shaking his head. “no! what?! why would you say that?”

“because i’ve known that you’ve wanted to fuck bokuto our entire relationship and if you want to ask him if he wants to spend the night with us, that would be okay with me,” atsumu says, calmly. way too calmly for what’s coming out of his mouth, you have to admit.

you don’t know what to say. you can barely think or understand what he’s saying, let alone how to respond. “with us?” you ask for clarification.

atsumu nods, “i’m sure he will not be difficult to convince if that’s what you want.”

you’re afraid to ask it because you’re afraid that all of this is just some elaborate joke. or, rather, you’re afraid for only a second after thinking it, because atsumu doesn’t surprise you anymore. he squeezes your forearm, looks you directly in the eyes as you ask, “and it’s something you want?”

“i offered, didn’t i?” he asks back and you nod.

“okay,” you say, nodding again. “i’ll ask him.”

it’s easy enough to pull bokuto aside with osamu and akaashi being as involved in their own conversation as they are. you don’t really know how to approach it, not completely. how do you just ask someone that? but the second that you pull him into the kitchen and away from the few people that are still in your house, he exhales and steps close to you. and it’s not anything that you’ve said all night, it’s just how he’s always acted around you.

you lean against the counter and he follows, shaking his head and standing right in front of you. “you’ve got a lot of cool friends, y’know that?”

“oh, yea,” you nod, punching his shoulder and then poking your finger into the middle of his chest, “the coolest.” he laughs and you can feel it against the tip of your pointer finger. you can hear murmuring in the living room. it fills up the comfortable spaces of silence. you look up at bokuto, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “i don’t really know how to ask this,” you say back, softly enough so that the people in the other room can’t hear your murmur.

bokuto tilts his head, “what’s up? is everything okay?”

“no, yea, really great,” you say, nodding and then you take a deep breath. just say it, just say it, just say it, just say it, just say it. “would you,” you say, you curl your fingers against his chest, “want to spend the night?”

the first emotion to come to the surface is excitement and then quickly after that confusion hits bokuto’s face much harder, like his mind filled in the blanks, but didn’t let himself get his hopes up. “like…,” he trails off, hoping that you’ll explain further without him having to ask.

you reach forward and tug on his forearm, coaxing him closer to you. “like…,” you say, heart beating violently against your chest. you try to evade his gaze, head down, focusing on the feeling of his soft skin against yours, nails scraping against it eliciting a tiny shiver from bokuto.

he reaches down, places his finger beneath your chin, and tilts your head upwards. “like?” he asks, eyes evidently flickering down to your lips. it couldn’t be helped, the way your tongue swipes against your lips and your breath catches in your throat. you just nod.

before his lips meet yours, you both talk at the same time, overlapping one another, but hearing the other perfectly.

“is this okay with atsumu?”

“like, with atsumu too.”

you put both of your hands into bokuto’s hair and he reciprocates quickly, putting both of his hands on either sides of your face and pulling you towards him, lips crashing into his. it’s like he reads your mind, one arm around your waist, one hand bracing the back of your thigh as he props you up on the counter to get closer to you.

you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him impossibly deeper into your lips, leaning forward as if there was any space for you to move into. large hands grip onto the fats of your hips, sliding you to the edge of the counter, stomach pressed up against his, arms sliding down his back, fingernails dragging against the fabric of his shirt.

bokuto pulls away, laughing softly, “so this is why tsum tsum comes into practice complaining about his back.”

“it actually gets much worse than this,” you say back, low and airy, pressing your forehead against his and kissing him once more, quick.

atsumu appears in the archway, leaning against the wall, not an ounce of jealousy on his face, but rather, a very devilish smile. you feel warm regardless, but you don’t make a move to untangle from bo. “so, are you staying the night, bokkun?”

bokuto almost immediately says yes, but then hesitates. “god, yea, i’d really love that, but i-,” he sighs, “i have to make sure akaashi gets home and-”

“i can take akaashi home,” osamu calls from the living room.

“oh, you don’t have to do that, i can just get an uber or something-,” akaashi dismisses.

“no way,” osamu says, shaking his head. from where atsumu is standing, he can peer around the corner and see his brother’s hand grasped around the back of akaashi’s elbow. “let me take you home, keiji.”

“whose home, samu?” akaashi says so quietly that if you were not actively listening for whatever akaashi’s response is, you would not have heard. you decide that that’s enough eavesdropping, actually, allowing them their private conversation and turning your attention back to bo, having your own private conversation as you repeat atsumu’s question.

“so, are you staying the night, bokkun?” you mimic exactly.

he nods, about to say something else maybe or try to kiss you again, but it’s interrupted very quickly as osamu calls out, “we’re out of here.” you barely have time for bo to help you hop off the counter before osamu and akaashi appear in the archway behind atsumu hand in hand.

you look directly at their interlocked fingers and akaashi’s pinkish cheeks and you tilt your head at osamu. osamu looks at bokuto’s hand on your hip and your disheveled hair and he tilts his head at you. you decide to call it even.

you contemplate letting them walk out on their own because there is nothing else in your mind right now than bokuto, atsumu, and a whole bunch of fantasies coming to realization. you don’t do that. you leave bokuto’s grasp, walking towards the front door with akaashi and osamu. atsumu offers a goodbye to akaashi and osamu, unbothered because he’s sure he’ll see osamu a few more times this weekend before he makes his way back home. atsumu is much more concerned with having a very quiet conversation with bokuto.

you only catch bokuto’s concerned, “are you sure about this?” as his head moving back and forth from you to atsumu. and atsumu’s assured, “i’m the one that brought it up.”

“have a safe drive home,” you say to osamu and akaashi at the doorstep. “and a fun rest of your night.”

“yn,” osamu warns, but you just feign ignorance.

“you also have a fun rest of your night, yn,” akaashi says in the same exact tone, tugging on osamu’s hand, placing the other on his bicep.

“ha!” osamu laughs, turning around and pulling akaashi to the car. it’s like he can’t get out of here fast enough. “thanks for having us!” osamu calls from the car window and then they’re gone.

when you shut the door, locking it for the last time, you realize how quiet the house is without the different areas of chatter. in fact, you can’t even hear the conversation that you know is happening in your dining room.

except, there isn’t a conversation happening in your dining room. instead, there is atsumu, the love of your life, the most important person in the world to you making out with bokuto, your closest friend of atsumu’s, the one person you’ve wanted to fuck other than atsumu in the last 4 years. your voice is small, not because you’re timid or embarrassed, but because you think if you speak any louder, a whimper will come alongside it. “can you take me to bed?”

the whimper escapes you anyway as a tiny string of spit connects atsumu and bokuto’s lips and as atsumu looks like he’s trying to regain composure and as he leans over to bokuto and says, “i get to do it all the time, you go ahead.” your stomach is doing a million flips and as bokuto approaches you, your mind goes blank. not that you need it.

because bokuto picks you up, same hold as before. his touch feels familiar and his grasp feels strong. “i don’t even know where i’m going,” bokuto admits as he reaches the top of the stairs. you gesture in the direction of your bedroom and open the door as he walks close enough to it. he leaves the door open, lays you down on the bed and as if he’s pictured this in his mind a million times, he quickly and assuredly kisses down your clothed chest, lifting up the bottom of your shirt to press kisses into your stomach before sinking onto the floor.

everything is happening so fast and you cannot explain how grateful you are because you’ve wanted this for so long and you’re finally getting it. bokuto doesn’t waste a second in hooking his arms under your knees, pulling you to the edge of the bed, spreading your legs, and ducking under your skirt. your thighs squeeze the sides of his cheeks as you feel his warm breath between your legs.

“enjoying yourself, pretty girl?” atsumu asks as he sinks into the bed beside your head, smoothing over your head and lifting your shirt. you can feel both pairs of hands on you independently, but somehow moving in perfect time with each other. it’s overwhelming in the best way. atsumu doesn’t even take your shirt off, just pulls it up far enough for your bra to show and then pulls your bra down enough for your tits to pop out and the way that you are so clothed, but so exposed all at the same time is making you grow warm between your legs.

you whimper at the question, nodding as atsumu runs his hands down your sides and then back up to your tits and then off of you all at once. without them, you can feel bokuto’s completely, nothing to distract you from how big they feel on the inside of your thighs. with him under your skirt, you can’t see anything at all and you want to watch him, but the fact that you don’t know what’s happening, relying on touch alone, is causing you to flood.

he licks a strip into your panties, harsh enough to cause them to push between your lips, digging his tongue into your hole, slipping past the fabric, thick tongue pushing them out of the way with no help at all. you roll your hips into the sensation. “shit,” you breathe.

so focused on the feeling between your legs, you don’t notice atsumu’s cock until he’s pressing the spongy tip against your slightly parted lips. you turn your head for a better angle, parting your lips further, opening your jaw, and taking him in your mouth. atsumu puts his hands on the back of your head, pulling you onto his cock. you’ve had years and years of practice with this which means atsumu knows your limits and capabilities and he gets to move you however he wants as a result.

bokuto’s hand creeps up your inner thigh as he laps at your clothed pussy, sucking the fabric into his mouth and swallowing all of the accumulated juices before slipping his finger into you. your jaw opens further, moaning around atsumu’s cock involuntarily and atsumu needs to feel that again. “shit, bokkun, ‘m gonna need ya to do whatever ya just did again.”

he laughs against your pussy, adding another finger inside of you and you already feel so full. his fingers are so thick, they’re so fucking thick, like four of your tiny fingers are jammed inside of you in two motions, but they’re longer than your fingers too, can reach so much deeper. you’re squirming on his fingers, moving your hips to fuck yourself on bokuto’s fingers and you can’t help how much your hums and whimpers and whines are effecting atsumu. “holy fuck, don’t stop,” atsumu says, hips pressing forward, hands pulling you onto his cock to meet his thrust.

the angle is still slightly awkward, hitting the back of your cheek rather than sliding down your perfect, tight throat like he loves so much, so he swings his leg overtop of you, both knees on either side of your head, balls resting on your chin as he lifts your head and places a pillow underneath. “fuck, that’s better, baby,” he says, barely giving you a warning before fucking into your mouth, letting you hollow your cheeks on his head, tiny movements of his hips pulling the tip in and out of your tight lips.

“she’s close,” bokuto announces into the room, talking about you, not to you, and you tighten around his fingers even more. bokuto pushes his fingers inside of you completely, pulls them out to the tips, pushes inside of you completely, pulls them out to the tips, and then he curls them over and over again, and you come so fucking hard that you can’t even imagine the mess underneath your skirt.

“so fucking wet,” bokuto says, mumbles against your cunt as he moves your panties to the side, pulls his thick fingers out of you and uses the tip of his tongue to coax the come out of your fluttering hole and down his throat. the lewd sounds are filling the room and your ears even more than the sound of atsumu whining and whimpering watching his cock disappear between your lips.

“shit, fuckin’ mouth feels so goddamn good, fuck,” atsumu growls, pulling you by your hair onto his cock and you can barely breathe, spit drooling out the sides of your mouth and down your chin and neck. his strokes are long and slow, relishing the feeling of his length being squeezed by your tight throat. “gonna fuck yer throat all fucking night. won’t even be able to talk tomorrow.”

“fuck,” bokuto says, “gotta- fuck-” all at once you feel even more fucking full. bokuto slips inside of you without a word, stretching your drenched hole around his huge cock. you can feel it in your fucking guts, so fucking deep, speared. you wrap your legs around his waist, holding him in place because you don’t want to not feel him so fucking deep in you. you need to feel him this deep in you forever.

you feel the breeze on your stomach, on your sloppy clit, as bokuto pushes your skirt up and out of the way, not that you could see anything anyway with atsumu where he is and his cock destroying your throat how it is. bokuto reaches down, rubbing small circles into your sensitive, swollen, pretty clit with his thumb. “so pretty,” bokuto mumbles.

you pull bokuto closer with your legs, moving your hips to meet him and he understands perfectly, pulling his hips back and slamming into you. his moans are lower than atsumu’s, more grunts than whimpers, and the fact that you can hear them both is making your walls flutter around bokuto’s thick length. “god, so fucking tight,” bokuto praises, “shit.”

“i know,” atsumu replies, rolling his hips, sliding the underside of his cock against your tongue. “feels so fuckin’ good.” he presses forward, pulls your head onto him until his head hits the back of your throat and then he holds you there. you can’t breathe, gagging on his thick head in your throat, but the noises that are coming out of him are well worth it. they always are. you swallow around his length and something breaks in him.

bokuto starts fucking into you faster, harder, the inside of your thighs already sore and very reminiscent of another first time you had. his fingers are gripping into your waist and your fingers are gripping onto the sheets, unsure of where else to put this pure need, unable to reach atsumu’s back or arms. atsumu sees you, hands moving across the bed, looking for somewhere to root as you take all of the abuse that’s coming to you.

he removes his grip from your hair for a moment, reaching over and grabbing your hand. “pretty girl, hey, baby, here,” he guides your hands to his thighs and tears are streaming from the corners of your eyes because your cunt is throbbing and your throat is burning and you can’t breathe and atsumu is still there to take care of you in ways that you don’t even understand.

you curl your fingers around his toned thighs and everything feels right in the world, everything feels more manageable. it’s something for you to ground yourself on, the feeling of the soft, toned muscle in your hands, against your fingernails, scraping and digging. “shit, doll, feels good, harder, yea?” you nod, effectively shoving atsumu’s cock down your throat even further. you dig your fingernails into the skin harder, harder, not dragging across, but digging into. “fuck, baby.”

bokuto is fucked out of his mind with the feeling of how tight and perfect you are around him and the exchange that’s happening in front of him with you and atsumu. it’s all so fucking much. he can’t stop pounding into you, fucking as deep as he can, slamming the tops of his thighs against the insides of yours, holding you in place with his large hands spanning over your stomach. “fuck, gonna come,” bokuto breathes, stare not pulling away from the way that atsumu and him are making you feel so used, so good.

atsumu answers for you because you couldn’t be expected to answer with your mouth as full as it is. “you can come inside,” atsumu says, looking down at your tear-pricked eyes and swollen lips as you hum an affirmative plea. “she wants you to come inside,” he corrects himself.

“fuck,” bokuto says with a shaky exhale, because he wasn’t exactly expecting that, but it’s exactly what he wanted.

“and where do you want me to come, pretty?” atsumu asks, relentlessly fucking into your throat. the only air that you’ve gotten is in tiny breaths between harsh strokes and inhales from your nose. you feel lightheaded, but the fact that it’s about to be over is much worse than your inability to get a proper breath.

you can’t speak so you move your hand from his thigh, dragging your finger down your throat and fuck, if that wasn’t the cutest gesture atsumu had ever seen. there’s a lack of pressure on your chest as atsumu changes positions, leaning forward, bracing himself against the wall as he changes angles so that he can get even deeper in your throat, can fuck your throat like a pretty cunt.

bokuto watches this unfold and he can’t fucking hold it any longer. it’s so much different than atsumu, the way that bokuto unloads inside of you. he doesn’t still, doesn’t stutter. his hips keep moving at an abusive pace, fucking you even harder than before as stream after stream of his thick come coats your gummy walls. you’re coming around his cock, sobs trying to escape you, but failing because of atsumu’s cock crammed down your throat, heavy balls slapping against your chin with every quick stroke inside of you.

bokuto’s come is spilling out of you. it was inevitable with how fast he was still fucking you and how much he was coming inside of you. it feels like it’s never ending, coupled right along with the noises that are leaving bokuto, low and needy. even after he’s finished filling you, he stays completely inside of you, breath catching, not ready to pull out just yet.

atsumu’s cock is throbbing against your tongue, pulsing, leaking, and he shoves it as far as he can fit it and you’re so sure that he’s going to pump his come directly down your throat, but then he pulls out, opening your mouth with his thumb, letting his tongue fall open in hopes that you mimic it and you do. “needa see it all pretty on yer tongue, baby, open, yea, fuck.”

he doesn’t even stroke himself, comes at the sight of you with your tongue out and messy eyes and swollen lips and gasping for air. his thick come doesn’t spray in ropes against the inside of your mouth, it drools onto your tongue. it leaks out of the tip lazily, pooling and collecting on the dip in your tongue until there’s too much to fit and a part of the fat glob slips down the back of your tongue and he grunts, replacing whatever disappeared down your throat. “all of it, baby, suck,” he directs, tilting your head, placing the tip between your lips and coaxing you to suck whatever’s left from his sensitive slit. you do exactly as you're told and as a reward, you get to hear the sob tear from his throat and watch him wipe away the tiny tears that threaten to fall.

everything is quiet. no one moves for at least two minutes. it takes the entire time for you to catch your breath.

“fuck, shit, i’m sorry i didn’t savor that more,” bokuto breaks the silence, shaking his head, inhale and exhale heavy as he stands up completely, putting his boxers back on.

atsumu takes this as a cue to move as well, getting off of you maybe as he should’ve from the very beginning to help you recover faster. though, you’re actually certain that lack of immediate movement is what allowed you to feel as okay as you do this quickly.

“next time,” you say, or try to say, because it hurts and it comes out shaky and hoarse. atsumu leans down and presses a kiss into your neck and then the side of your face and then your lips. he would be more phased by this if it wasn’t a weekly occurrence.

“yea, maybe come to town more often,” atsumu says, confirming.

“don’t say that,” bokuto says, shaking his head, “because i really will.”

“then, maybe come to town more often,” atsumu repeats, a tiny smirk forming on his lips.

“alright,” boktuo affirms.

atsumu leans down, places a kiss on your forehead. “c’mon, let's get you cleaned up,” he says, helping you up. you don’t try for a thank you or a yes, just give a small nod and move towards the attached bathroom.

“do you have a guest room or something in this cool big house?” bokuto asks, clearly feeling like he’s invading.

“we do, but,” atsumu says, walking out of the bathroom, over to the dresser and pulling out a big t-shirt. he disappears into the bathroom again, water running, clothes shuffling, and emerges with your clothes in hand. he throws them into the laundry hamper in the corner of the room. “you’re welcome to spend the night here.”

“oh! no, no, i wouldn’t want to-,” bokuto starts, but is interrupted by the sink running again, teeth brushing, and now he really feels like he’s invading. but then you walk out of the bathroom, as fresh and clean as you can be without having taken a shower, and you wrap your arms around bo’s bicep. the feeling of displacement fades pretty quickly then.

“yea,” atsumu says, hand on the back of his neck, “someone gets a bit clingy after sex.” atsumu nods towards you and you playfully scowl back at him even though you know it is very true. “just until she falls asleep though. in the morning, she’s usually like, tsumu, fuck off, i’m trying to sleep. it’s weird, really.”

“i mean, if you- yea, i’ll stay if you want me to,” bokuto says and looks down at you nodding very convincingly. you walk over to the bed, pulling bokuto along by the arm and you crawl under the covers, laying perfectly in the middle of the bed. this wasn’t the exact use that you thought you would get out of your king size bed, but you can add it to the list of splurge items that are turning out to be very worth it.

“didja need anything before ya go to bed?” atsumu asks because he knows it’s something that you would ask if you weren’t so unable to ask. bokuto shakes his head no. he can’t imagine needing anything at this moment. “cool.” atsumu shuts the light off and the room goes very dark.

it’s awkward first, weird for only a few moments, figuring out your place in all of this, and then it just kinda works out.

huh, reminds you of something.

♡ tori's polls ♡ ( which tori self-indulgent element was ur fav? )

taglist: @natriae @simpfully-heartbroken @mobbbb1 @cloud-lyy @mimivinx @kjd55 @url0call1fter @kryzi @slut-for-dabi @katsunarii @unstaaableaf @misfit-megumi @solovolpe @cheezitwh0re @5sausefandom @phantomremi @ellie111593 @pizzasdeliveries @pebble-did-what @raionmikage @filipinxgirl @alienvarmint @kuroosluthoe @bbyxxm @fi-chanwrites @bear-likes-mushrooms @cyueksims @desideityy @privthemis @yoitsseulgi @hai1q @toyfortoji @ihaveacrushonjayjo @ajbutasimp @bakamuraaa @ellie111593 @heraldmoon @aam1na@boxdisappeared @yogaballkink @snazzyturtles @hxdruss @tetsurane @jewlmin @chubbygirlfics @satanblessing @centinoahs @lanalans @omisgoodgirl @hero-fucking-101 @paradisebabey @dolce-peach @writing2live @dabibreeder @miyaluv127 @iwnnabeurss @karmakarter @hehatesmati @6kiwi @kurapika-1999 @tsukiran @sasscatsunshine @mushasstuff

@useless-bicth @evbs-numberoneslut @hunny-hotline @alienvarmint @bella009888 @um-no-ok @footjib @mon-cherries @privthemis @agashki @renster05 @greeniegreengreen @tokyo-banana @fandomtrash5092

join my taglist here!! ~~ no more twrt BUT i do have other fics comin' up ♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡

follow my new writing updates tag: #♡ woah! tori's writing update! ♡ (pinned tag!)

#atsumu x reader #atsumu smut #atsumu x reader smut #bokuto smut #bokuto x reader smut #bokuto x reader #hq smut #hq x reader #hq x reader smut #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader smut #miya atsumu x reader #toriwritesshit #twrt!

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aihaitahm · 1 year ago

Text

having a crush on streamer ! roommate ! blade

cw: suggestive, not proof read sorry.

probably streams something like valorant or league (sorry.) or he streams himself drawing ! he enjoys streaming but he also just does it for extra money… he knows he’s attractive. doesn’t talk/commentate that much but he has some dry humor that makes people intrigue especially for how he is. when he gets annoyed at whatever he’s playing, he would cuss a lot but not like… throwing his keyboard across the room.

would stream with silverwolf and gets a bit annoyed whenever she beats his ass whenever they play together. sometimes they meet up and also play horror games together. blade has a straight face but is actually terrified that he screams “fuck!?!!?” while silverwolf stares at him with a straightface like it wasnt even that scary -_-

anyways, moving in and discovering he was your roommate was interesting. he wasnt really shy… just awkward, and may come off a bit condescending and mean but if only you could see his red ears whenever he interacts with you. at first you were wary of him whether or not he would do his own share of chores so you nag at him multiple times. spoiler alert: he does do his part<3 this is where you both start interacting more by playfully being sarcastic at each other.

“tsk you know i do chores when youre not around… you gotta trust me more will ya?”

“okay sorry…”

it was a rough start getting to know him as a roommate since he is always in his room when youre around or when he goes out a lot whether to the gym (which you find yourself staring at his figure or analyzing it behind his baggy shirt) or to hang out with his friends, he comes home late. but a sweet gesture he does is when you wake up in the morning, you see a bunch of food or take out on the counter as a thank you for cooking and leaving some for him.

he finallt brought his friends around (silverwolf and kafka!) and they introduce themselves to you while they nudge blade teasingly. like how could he hide his precious roommate from them. thats when they started asking you questions while blade’s ears are perked.

“so dear are you single? what do you like and dislike? to think bladie wouldnt even talk to his dear roommate… dont make them feel lonely blade ‘kay?”

“yea… i am whyd you ask? and i like ___ and dislike ___. and oh im fine!”

“whats your type! do you like games? can we play ? we can play with blade too if you want!”

“stop with the questions you two. and excuse me i talk to them… kinda.”

“sure you do.”

after that interaction, blade is a bit more talkative to you now but still a bit closed off. thats when you questioned him about the noise he makes and asks if he streams. he embarrassingly said yes while he continues to answer your questions begrudgingly.

you tend to text to your friends about him and march 7th starts teasing you to no end. dan heng kinda warns you about him but would support you to no end… just dont get in blade’s bad side. stelle or caelus would purposely create scenarios where you have to talk to blade since they have a lot of classes with him.

one time you were going home after seeing your friends until you came home to see he was making a meal for himself, shirtless. in which he blushes deep red but shrugs it off as he smirks. you were surprised and actually squeaked, telling him to put a shirt on.

“put some clothes on damn it.”

“well stop looking its really that simple.”

since your friends, you, blade and his friends came to the conclusion you both like each other, do you actually confess? no but obviously you both are stubborn and would rather deal with the sexual loving tension. roommates who decided to do grocery shopping together one day. to go out and maybe look for a pet. roommates who sometimes rant to each other about deep personal stuff. working out together. following each other on social medias. wt this point march 7th and kafka is practically screaming at u and blade’s face to confess.

that was until you were knocking at his door and he wasnt there since you already brought him his food. you came in his room for the first time to see his stream was on and people were wondering who are you. looking around his space, you found some of the little gifts you gave him and saw his phone glow up to a silly cute picture of you that you sent. making you feel flustered bc goddamn it you just needed to hand him his food.

‘alhaithamscatboy: ohmygod are u blade’s partner?!?!!? the one silverwolf was teasing blade about!

eimikofanpage69: theyre so fine!!!! oh my god !!!! wdym yall are just roommates?

KAZUSCARAFAN: UR LYING WHEN U SAY UR JUST ROOMMATES. ‘

“(name) whyre you here? oh you brought me food. thank you. uh sorry about my chat.”

“ah yes actually theyre my lovely partner.“ blade said as he pecks you on the cheek and the chat goes crazy. literally making it viral.

after the stream, you confronted him and freaked out. asking him if he just did it for the views or if he actually liked you that way. which makes him infuriated because how could he ever do that to someone he loves and respects.

“i like you okay? i… love you a lot more than i can ever express and i would never do shit like that for views. i had my eyes on you ever since you moved in. i just didnt know if you do. im sorry if i made you uncomfortable.”

“you didnt. and i-i love you too… now you should like, kiss me better bladie.”

“call me yingxing or ren instead.” he whispered as he kissed you on the lips passionately.

#honkai star rail #blade x reader #hsr blade #blade hsr #honkai star rail fluff #honkai x reader

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deathdetermineslife · 17 days ago

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how do you manage to get any followers or friends in the selfshipping community? is it just luck?

for months i’ve been trying to interact with others and follow people, engaging with stuff like ask games and hosting reblog games, but when i try to share any artwork or i reblog an ask game myself, its radio silence. like even in small discords i get ignored so bad

i don’t say this at all to be guilt tripping /gen, it’s genuine curiosity at how this stuff even works. like am i doing something wrong or is the community just like this?

here is my comprehensive and lame guide on How To Get Selfship Followers

step 1 - posting

so a lot of my posts are either kinda general or fun. folks I will not lie to you. these are all stupid shit that come to my mind on a day to day basis. for example, today, I thought, "man I'm such a loser I'm not in college like all my friends r" and then I was like "omg wait. i could make a post out of this" so I did that.

you also kinda gotta be conistent. so i try to post at least *something* everyday. even if its a reblog, tho, I don't reblog a lot of things other than ask games.

another thing with posting is that i do try to make a lot of community based content. so idk if yall remember but in the beginning of my account, I did the "things you can do if you have xyz f/o". i did like,,, I think almost 100 of those ?????? it was a lot. then I started making templates and I made some ask games and ofc I post a lot of general like,,, imagine stuff. oh also polls. people seem to enjoy polls.

step 2 - be positive

this is the big thing. as most of yall (hopefully) know, I do not fw proshippers !! but I don't talk about discourse unless its directly brought up. not only this, I put a big focus on just,,, being nice idk. like id like to think I'm a pretty down to earth person.

if you make a template and people tag you in it, say something nice! reply to peoples art, send in asks, things like that. i try to do my part in being nice. i also just like hearing about peoples selfships.

when people post promos and have the little "rb to be moots", reblog! when you come across someone having a bad day, maybe they made a vent or something, reply with a simple "I hope you feel better <3" or "your f/o loves you <3". things like that, ya know?

step 3 - have fun

genuinely. i post as much as i do because I like it. i didn't go into this thinking "oh... yea... I'm gonna get selfship famous..." like no I just wanna ramble somewhere bc none of my close irls r selfshippers.

you wont get popular or get followers because you grind out posts. literally one of my biggest posts on this account I wrote while I was half asleep one night and wanted to test out queuing on my account.

and in that regard, it is partially luck. i don't control what posts people do and don't like. sometimes I write up imagines and no one sees them. sometimes I write up a post saying "lol go kiss your fake boyfriend ooo smoochie smoochie" and that does numbers

step 4 - interaction

im only in two servers. one server (which was the first public server I think I ever joined ???? i could be wrong tho,,, bad memory blehg) that I don't own and then my own 18+ server. i don't think being in servers does anything,,, considering I'm only in one that isn't mine. i think its more like ,,, sticking to one or two places ?? like just being consistently in an area you're comfortable in.

i guess you gotta just find the right people ??? and like I mentioned, be friendly, but ya know. also I guess tags too? idk if you look at any of my regular posts I have 8 million tags on them. idk if that actually does anything or not because its kinda hit or miss sometimes.

i was gonna say something else but i forgot. see look listen I dunno how I got here but this is what I do ,,,, effectively nothing. also with the being kind thing, maybe this is how I am bc I'm pagan but I think that if you expect kindness back you wont get anything. sometimes its just nice to be nice. eventually you gain a reputation for being a nice person. you kinda have to not want that tho? like I don't see myself as particularly like ,,, super kind ,,,??? i just do what feels right.

step 5 - uhhhh idk im just rambling now

i guess i also went into this kinda like. damn sometimes this community is a cesspool of absolute meanie pants. i don't wanna be a Meanie Pants and just post my thoughts and the things I think about. i guess how I see it too is, I kinda like ? idk I think all these things anyways why not post them? kinda feels like a waste not to.

also ive been told my posts are pretty recognizable bc of how I format them ? my dividers and such. also tagging all of my imagines and stuff with my 🥀📜 emojis. i guess that helps too? because that's how I recognize certain accounts. "like oh there's them I recognize their dividers and their tags".

also you kinda gotta like,,, not let hate get to you. like have fun with it? i know that's hard, but, that's what you gotta do. when I get printer ink (bc. a hoe does NOT like buying printer ink) im printing out that fucking 8 mile long hate message I got sent. but also that's just the kinda person I am. like people being a dick and stealing my posts and telling me to swallow a glock 9mm doesn't upset me, im more like,, confused more than anything because never in my life have I ever sent hate to anyone. also I have had this "I do not care because you're some loser on the internet and you being an ass wipe is no where near as bad as the shit people have done to me irl" attitude.

TLDR; i dont think youre doing anything wrong because I don't exactly know what I'm doing right. i just... do... and sometimes, "just doing" is enough. maybe its luck, maybe I've been blessed by the tumblr algorithm and I've somehow figured it out, or maybe the community is just genuinely that bad and they pick favorites. maybe its all of the above! who knows. i try not to worry about it. i think at the end of the day, as long as you're having fun posting about your f/os and selfshipping, that's what matters.

alright thats all see ya. if you have any more questions feel free to ask however I fear I cannot answer them </3

#🥀📜#sorry that was so long #ill tag these with selfship tags incase anyone else was wondering #lachlan talks #lachlan rambles #self shipping #self ship #self shipper #selfshipper #selfship #selfshipping #f/o #f/o community #fictoromantic

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bring-forth-your-justice · 2 years ago

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Can i request an ADA x teen!reader ( platonic ofc ) where reader lives in a very toxic house w an abusive father but all the ADA member start to worrying abt them and think something is wrong bc they always come back with injuries and they finally decide to do something after that reader just broke down and they comfort them

:( i need some comfort so yea if its ok ofc u can skip it have a nice day ♡♡♡

Sorry this took some time anon, thank you for requesting, I wouldn't dare skip it. I hope you’re doing alright, you're never alone know that. If you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here for ya.

TW// mentions of abuse, blood, child neglect

Word count: 2k

Just angst and sad weather. Hope its good for my first BSD fic.

A soft breeze filled with springs essence flowed gently into the quaint office placed atop the red bricked building. It wasn’t much to look at, not really, other than its red exterior taking the eyes attention for a split second, there wasn’t much else to it.

Unless one was aware of its top floored residence. Quite the loud bunch many would complain. Always someone shouting and screaming about tardiness, unsettling comments about severing limbs, and often other occupants would notice a trail of emptied snack bags leading to the office. Simply a place to stay away from.

Now that was what you called home.

The hums of the crowded streets played out in a symphony in front of you, just another side walk to cross and you were home. Home .. If the word stayed on your tongue for too long it might lose it meaning, or worse, become sour in taste.

That top floor, was home. It had only been maybe 8 months since you began working there as an assistant. The Armed Detective Agency, the name really says all there was to it. The work wasnt too difficult, after all, you were a hardworker and you’ve been working your whole life one way or another. The president had made some adjustiments to your workload considering you were still a high school student. Of course you adamantly expressed your capabilities, but underneath it all, you were relieved.

The breeze grazed your face and ruffled your hair, adding more knots into it after you had done so much to ensure it looked perfect, like nothing had happened. You sighed with a hint of ire plaguing not just your voice but your eyes. Perhaps holding your tongue could have granted you another hour or two of sleep. Alas, thinking of such what if’s was something you slowly learned to block out. It was pointless to fantisize of what could be anyhow.

You continued to fix your hair as you walked up the stairs, soon reaching the gates to your heaven with the oh so familiar sign positioned at the door. You hesitated briefly even as the sign urged you to come in just as the Earth welcomed rain. Thoughts began to overwhelm you. Mornings were never easy. You weren’t a sunflower waiting to greet the sun as the sun showers you with blessings and you return its gift with a smile. It was always terrifying. He was terrifying.

No matter what you did, no matter how hard you tried, you would never be enough to satisfy his will. At times, that thought alone shot bolts of desperation throughout your body, like an injured animal finding some way to stop the bleeding. What were you so desperate for? Home. It’s right in front of you, so why can’t you accept it now?

‘I didn’t get enough time to cover some of the bruises, what if they-’

“Ah you made it L/N-chan!”

You shot up slightly at the new sound that entered your bubble. Your gaze turned towards the young boy’s voice, noticing his ragged hair. ‘Always quite slanted, not a single strand the same,’ you mused. “Atsushi you startled me aha..” Although the chuckle may have been a bit strained, you were happy to know your voice wasn’t void of that hint of delight to see him.

“A-ah! Sorry! I guess I’ve been sneaking up on a lot of people lately. The other day it was Lucy, I made her drop her dish in the cafe- I really did apologize but she was very close to throwing me from a bridge aha-” Atsushi had a tendency of causing trouble from simple, and often innocent, actions. It was always amusing to hear about from him, they’ve never failed to crack you out of your reclusive state.

Atsushi’s eyes wandered briefly to a mismatched coloured blotch on your arm, one you tried to conceal under your sleeves. When you took notice of his gaze, you quickly shifted that arm out of view; watching his shy and gentle eyes become disturbed with remorse. That unconcealable wrapping on your leg wasn’t any better to look at you figured, and you were sorry he had to see it. It was only for a moment though. He seemed more at ease once you smiled back at him.

“If she did push you, I’d call Kyoka-chan.” You continued back at where the conversation left off at. At that Atsushi shaked his hands, trying to prevent the fictional scenario. “N-No! Kyoka might end up doing more than dragging me out of the water-” You both laughed at the scenario at the underlying understanding of Kyoka’s protectivness of Atsushi’s well being.

As you both walked into the office together, a scent of candies and coffee lingered in the air and the bustling office welcomed your arrival. Your eyes lingered on Atsushi as he made his way over to his desk to get started on what you could only assume to be another stack of Dazai’s unfinished paperwork. ‘I should go and get him some coffee, he might need it to finish all that.’ Looking at that stack was alone to make you wince and move towards your own desk.

You usually make your rounds to greet everyone, but today was a difficult day and you were more tired than usual. So you figured finishing your work early would be the best way to go about things. As you began, the usual shenanigans continued to buzz around the agency. Naomi chasing Tanizaki begging him to bother himself with her rather than his work, the murmurs of the president and his secretary disgusing financial documents in his office, Ranpo-san’s loud crunches as he muched on what could’ve been his 15th chip bag of the day, and to top it off, Kunikida’s excessive yelling. You may be a hardworker but in this case, you couldn’t hold a handle to Kunikida’s work ethic. He kept everyone on task, or so he tried.

While he was on his daily rant about Dazai’s tardiness to anyone who would listen, you felt a dreadful turmoil brewing in your head.

That buzzing in your head was a little more than unsettling. And just as your hand went to go reach your head, there it was again, that word.

“Home.”

Why was it coming to the forefront of your mind? Why couldn’t that thought be subdued? Why were you so unlucky that the only word that haunted you was the one you cherished just as much?

He. Your father. Just a shadow of what he could’ve- no, should’ve been. A shadow who gained sentience and refuses to let you breathe.

Your ‘home’ was hell personified. Every move you took would inevitably burn your feet. So you took no steps at all. Yet even then the fire raged on and clung to you.

And right now, that fire was engulfing your head.

You could faintly see Dr.Yosano in the distance, making her way to you. You couldn’t quite make out her expression when you dropped to floor and the fire took your eyesight.

~~~~~~~~~

Sometimes sleep was the only solace you could get, so you tried to cherish it whenever you could. This time, there was something different about the black void of unconsciousness. A dull pain.

It lingered and poked you in the void. Slowly voices became more clear, and feeling returned to your hands. Still, those wonderful eyes of yours refused to leave the dark.

A part of you couldn’t deny that you liked it that way, but that poking sensation wouldn’t let you dream.

You never had time for it.

So your eyes opened, breaking through the fire, and into the blinding lights of the ceiling panels.

~~~~~~~~

“You’re awake-!” There a pair of wide yellowish-purple eyes looked back at you, secured with a load of concern.

It was Atsushi, worried about you as always. You wished he’d worry about himself more.

It didn’t quite hit you that you were on Dr. Yosano’s lap or the fact there were tears in your eyes, slowly streaming down your eyes. Not until Kyouka, who sat next to Atsushi wiped them gently.

What happened to you?

Your body must’ve been more aware than your mind as it expressed it’s emotions more freely than how your mouth could vocalize them. Slowly you sat up and noticed exactly what had caused you to lose consciousness.

“What happened… y/n?”

Blood loss.

Dr. Yosano looked at the open wounds on your legs, carefully unwrapping the loosely tied bandages around them. She was inspecting the wound just as she was inspecting your face.

They all were looking at you. Kunikida with a glass of water held firmly in his hand. Kyouka who stayed quietly by Atsushi, looking at your wounds. Yosano who looked slightly unnerved at the blood yet continued to press on; cleaning the wound. Atsushi who looked at you as though he knew and didn’t at the same time. But he wanted to know, oh how he wanted you to tell him.

And suddenly, it was hard.

You were young. You couldn’t hold it back anymore.

The tears poured out and so did the words you held in for so long. You tried to hold it all in, but everyone has their limits. Atsushi held you closely as you cried into his arms. Kyouka followed and joined the hug.

She understood.

You may be older than her but she knew your pain just as well.

Yosano worked on your legs with utmost care and gentleness. She knew better than to ask to heal using her unorthodox methods. She’d rather not do that, even if it took away all the physical pain, it wouldn’t do anything for your mental anguish. So she helped in the ways she could.

Kunikida offered you that glass of water as you talked and cried. He stepped back for a moment, eyes still intently on you as you spoke with your shaky voice and teary eyes. Until he caught the sight of someone hidden in the corner of the agency.

Dazai.

His expression was unreadable as always yet there was a sense of conflict stiring in those lax eyes of his that Kunikida rarely saw. Just as Kunikida noticed him standing there in obscurity, he left through the agency’s doors. Kunikida knew to follow him in case Dazai had finally built a sense of justice and planned to do something rash.

~~~~~~~~

When the tears stopped, you sat there with your ragged yet quiet, breathing. Atsushi never once left your side. Kyouka still sat by you, unmoving. Kenji had returned a little while ago and brought you over some tissues and began reciting stories of his farm life adventures.

Ranpo finally appeared again. His whereabouts were always where his interests lied…. Or where the snacks were. Thus, it wouldn’t surprise you if he had been there the whole time, just hidden away.

With a lollipop still in his mouth, he looked down at you. You couldn’t read his eyes, you barely ever saw them when you think about it. Kenji, continued to talk while your attention shifted to Ranpo. He brought his arm forward, in his hand, a single lollipop. He motioned you to take it.

When it was in your hands, he was already gone back to whatever he was doing, yet you stared at it as though it were gold.

Home…. A place that’s warm.. A place you feel loved..

You were home. You were safe.

And so you smiled, it would be okay.

~~~~~~~~

Weeks had passed since then, your father was arrested on accounts of child abuse and neglect and you were free from his torment. That moment when Kunikida had left that day, he must’ve gone to seek out your father you supposed. Regardless, you were thankful to not just him, but the entire agency.

You were free, and you would be okay.

That ‘home’ meant nothing to you, so with Fukuzawa-san’s permission, you were allowed to move into the agency dorms. Again, nothing you could do would expression your gratefulness towards him.

Although old habits and traumas never die, you were healing. You had people who loved you and cared for you. People who would laugh with you as Kunikida and Dazai fought. People who would eat with you when you couldn’t sleep. And people who watched over you, even if silently.

You weren't alone, and most importantly, you were happy.

#bungou stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs #atsushi nakajima x reader #osamu dazai x reader #kyouka izumi #yosano akiko #armed detective agency #angst #bsd fanfic #osamu dazai #kunikida doppo #ranpo

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yakuzacanons · 5 months ago

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hiii first ask! i rlly love how u write! i was wondering if u could do majima and kiryu with their s/o at a pet cafe for a date? i think it would be so funny and cute to see majima have beef with a bunny or something small LOL tysm! ♥

Last one for this evening as I gots some stuff to dew but yeth our two old men back at it once again. The boys who started it all for me (0 was my first game so these two have my heart forever literally).

Kiryu Kazuma

Type of guy who will go just about anywhere if it makes you happy because he's happy when you're happy. Plus, he's got some pet experience with Mame so he isn't shy around animals.

Mostly just sits and admires the animals from afar. Quite reverent of animals and respects their space greatly. Loves watching you try to coax a shy cat out of its corner for pat-pats though.

Not a vocal guy, as we all know, but he loves listening to you coo and sigh over how cute the animals are. If he really likes one, he'll let out a "Ah, that one's real cute." out of the blue. This will also be the pet that he will try to interact with the most.

If you put an animal in his lap or if one crawls into his lap, unfortunately for Kiryu he will be stuck there forever I fear. Pets love him for his comfy thighs and body warmth and who is he to disturb their peace?

Takes a lot of random photos of the animals. Is it mostly to show them to the kids if he can? Yea. Maybe. Don't ask him about it, he might cry.

Majima Goro

There are two things in the world that Majima has no idea what to do with: animals and babies. He isn't afraid of them and he isn't totally stupid either. He could probably wing it if he needed to pet-sit or babysit, if for some godforsaken reason someone picked him to do those things. But otherwise, he's kind of indifferent.

However, since he loves you and you love going to pet cafes, then darn it he is going to the pet cafe. However, be warned, he just doesn't get it at all. Like not even the concept. He's just like "The hell ya wanna pay ta see random pets for?"

Kind of just stands or sits there at first. The colorful decor is... a lot. Ironic coming from a man who dresses like THAT. Anyways, he looks like an elephant in a china shop. All the other customers and guests, especially the couples are like "Who's the scary looking guy?" while you are oblivious and already cuddling the nearest animal.

Majima isn't going to let the bad vibes of strangers get in the way of this date, goddammit! If we're here to interact with animals well then he's just gonna have to go interact with a damn animal then! And away he goes to do just that...

Except how the fuck do you do that?! He has no idea what animals like. He does not know their body language, although at the very least he knows what a solid hiss from a cat means. Literally doesn't care if animals bite him though, especially small animals. Like if a kitten bites him, he'll just sorta lift his gloved hand up, kitten probably dangling from said hand, and say "Whaddya think yer doin'?". However, if an animal responds positively and plays with him, snuggles up to him, or starts purring, he'll be like "Woulda look at that." while grinning proudly like an idiot.

#majima megaphone moment #yakuza #ryu ga gotoku #yakuza headcanons #yakuza imagines #ryu ga gotoku headcanons #ryu ga gotoku imagines #goro majima #majima goro #kiryu kazuma #kazuma kiryu

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buckybarnesbbydoll · 11 months ago

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AN: so I wasn’t sure how I wanted this to go, this idea has been on my mind for a bit and finally decided to make it a one-shot. (and I posted it as a blurb idea and people seemed to like it!) Let me know if any of you guys want a possible part 2? And please send me ideas I need some! If you like this story please repost and like! As always MINORS DNI

Warnings: porn with little plot, praise (dear god so much of it), some angst and fluff (in the end), ig some teasing? metal arm kink (hehe), use of metal arm in naughty ways, pet names: doll, babydoll, baby.

Have fun reading, loves!

౨ৎ ౨ৎ ౨ৎ ౨ৎ ౨ৎ ౨ৎ ౨ৎ ౨ৎ ౨ৎ ౨ৎ ౨ৎ ౨ৎ ౨ৎ ౨ৎ ౨ৎ ౨ৎ ౨ৎ ౨ৎ

That fucking metal arm was all you thought while you watched your husband prepare both of your guy’s coffees, it was about 2am and bucky had one of those nights- the restless nights where his dreams were plagued with nightmares and thoughts of losing you. His beautiful wife. You vowed to take care of him no matter what even if that meant staying up with him because he didn’t want to go back to sleep. “Doll, you, ok?” bucky asked swooping you out of your thoughts. “Yea-yes I’m fine buck” you half lied, “doesn’t seem like it” he said stirring your coffee he handed you your mug leaning in to kiss your forehead. “Tell me what’s up doll” he asked but it felt like more of begging. You took a sip of your coffee, eyes narrowing down to his arm that was lined with gold it was beautiful in the dimly lit kitchen. The way it shined, and light reflected off the wall from it. “Your arm-its just so pretty” you said looking at him, he smiled “doll you say that a lot” he said blowing on his coffee. “I know I do but- its just so pretty ya know I think of it in other ways too” you said with a smirk. Bucky set his coffee down on the marble counter and began inching closer to your face, your body. He got close to your lips and whispered “and how does my wife think about my arm in other ways” before his lips clashed onto yours, his teeth clashing with your lips and his tongue fighting dominance over your mouth. He pulled away from you both panting “James!” you say with a smirk in your tone. “Tell me baby” he says- “I think about you letting me ride your fingers, your metal ones. How’d they feel in me, how’d they look glistening with my wetness” you say hardly whispering it to him. “Fuck.” Is all he can say before he has you in his arms storming towards the bedroom.

It feels like it’s been hours, you’re sitting up against bucky’s back, your head resting below his chin. Your forehead glistening with sweat, your chest rising fast as you breathe. Your legs spread and your wet core filled with bucky’s metal fingers. Two to be exact, slowly thrusting in and out of you, you can feel every cold metal ridge kissing your cervix. The way he thrust them to touch that sweet spot of yours. “My metal fingers feel good, babydoll” he teasingly asked making you moan in response. His cold thumb flexes to rub your clit tightly. You practically yelp out feeling your walls clench on his fingers “she likes that, wonder if shell like this” she in being your cunt. In a moment of hazy pleasure, you feel a buzzing in you, what you think his fucking hand vibrating. “Oh my god” you moan out. Your hips star grinding on his fingers his hand getting completely soaked by your cunt. “that’s its baby, fuck yourself on my hand.” He says desperately kissing down your neck. “James... your hand” you hear him chuckle as you continue grinding on his fingers. “I know baby, feels good huh?” he asks. you mutter a yes out as you feel yourself getting close to the coil in your belly growing the way bucky’s kissing your neck whispering praise into your ears and the way his fingers are hitting that spot deep in you. “Doll, come for me” he practically begs and you do. That’s all you need to let go the waves of pleasure rushing through your body as bucky continues fucking you through your orgasm with his fingers. “There you go doll, let go. relax into me” he praises as you finally come down from your high. He slowly removes his hand from you hearing a low buzz you look down to see his fingers slowly but surely buzzing. Vibrating, you had been with bucky for 4 years and never knew that. “James it can” your cut short “yes. It happens from time to time from nerves usually after nightmares but other times I can try to control it. It’s just a stupid bug in the arm that goes to my nerves. Sometimes my hand vibrates or the whole arm it depends” he sounded embarrassed. You slowly move your aching thighs to face him, you kiss him softly “are you embarrassed” you softly ask looking straight in his dreamy blue eyes. “I didn’t want to tell you because I wasn’t sure if you would like it.” He says in a whisper tone. You cup his face “baby, I’m your wife I love all of you and I sure as hell like that” pointing to his arm. He laughs kissing you “you just gave me a reason to throw away my viberator” you say smirking. “Good. I hated those things anyway” he says smiling before kissing your forehead, you slump into his chest your head resting below his chin. He rests his head on the back of the headboard as his eyes close tiredly. “I love you” you mumble out “I love you too, babydoll” he says sighing.

#bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #beefy bucky #james bucky buchanan barnes #winter soldier #falcon and the winter soldier #Bucky Barnes metal arm

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cat-of-starlight · 1 year ago

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Ok-

In the wake of the new Limbus Brainrot because Canto 4 ended, I've been seeing a certain... Dante related theory... making the rounds again and I wanted to post my thoughts about it.

Putting it under the cut for length reasons- No specific spoilers?, I just don't wanna blast people with the text wall lmao

I gotta say, I really hate the Dante = Ayin theory. Desperately.

Not any hate to the people theorizing- not like that, I just already have a deep hatred of [x person is actually y person]/Reincarnation/etc. theories.

Why, you may ask? Well, in the case of this theory specifically, I have three main reasons.

1 - The vibes of the two characters themselves

Important note, I actually like both characters. I know some people have A Lot to say about Ayin, and honestly so do I (Probably different things but yea), but I generally don't mind him as much as some other people seem to.

I also love Dante.

And Specifically, I'll say- I like them both for Incredibly Different Reasons. Different enough reasons that I feel that mixing the two would ruin them both. I mean sure, Dante CLEARLY has something going on in the memories they can't yet remember, but honestly? Ayin already had his arc. HAD his chance in the spotlight- a whole game of it. I wouldn't mind a cameo, or reason for him to be important in some way, but I'd be crushed if all the reasons I've come to love Dante were smothered by "oops all Ayin"

I feel like it would make it almost... Pointless? "Oh yea this character may have had their whole character arc, but surprise! They aren't REALLY their own person and are instead this dude who already had his character arc!"

2 - They/Them Dante Supremacy™

Now, considering that the meme They/Them Dante post that I made blew up and is now my most popular post on my blog, I think its safe to say where I stand on the Dante's Pronouns part of everything-

I think it would be kind of... dismissive of that to make "Oh yea they were they/them to hide their identity" Because uhhh. Their identity is already hidden. We can't see their face. Literally anyone could have their head taken, a clock replaced, and that outfit slapped on and it generally wouldn't matter-

I feel like it kind of would send the message of "They can only count as they/them because their everything is hidden and we can't tell anyway" which??? No??? Even once Dante's actual head gets revealed, if people start switching calling them to whatever gender they look the most like and the game still uses they/them I'm Going To Bite People.

3 - ??

The least plot relevant, and the most just vibe based is- I just kinda feel like this type of reveal in writing often kinda feels like a cop out? I mean, I'm sure there's probably a well done version of one of these, but I sure as hell haven't found it yet-

I mean, in a BIG city with TONS of characters, there is SO MUCH plot that a character can have, without needing to jump back to a character that they already have. Sure- Project Moon Protags often have a Big Reveal, and its often Shocking- but does it really need to be a rehashed reveal from the first game? "boo he's old news get new material" ya know?

Anyway yea. I don't like the theory- Never have from the first time I saw a post about it.

If you like it, feel free to keep on with it- I don't mean this to say "If you theorize this, you suck" or anything, I just keep seeing it, and felt the desire to put my own two cents in~

But yea, keep on with it if you like it? Maybe tag it something specific and I'll just block the tag lmao

#It just doesn't vibe with me idk #They will always be separate in my head #Again I just don't like that genre of theories ANYWAY but yea #limbus company #dante limbus company #dante lcb #lcb

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winterwandersland · 3 months ago

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Paperwork

cw/tw: slight swearing, very very very brief flashback of an assault, implied sexual relations word count: 5.5k Kamara continues to decrypt the flashdrive but makes an unexpected discovery.

Chapter Three

“Mare, are you doing okay over there?” Sergeant Riker stood against the door frame of the closed off room that was being used as an office. The desk Kamara sat at had multiple scratches and dents that made it obvious that it was over a decade old. There were initials graved right next to the computer that she constantly ran her fingers over as she worked, keeping her mind focused on its ridges rather than the clicking of the clock that was counting down. The code was running fluidly, though it flowed in a form that was unusual to her.

“Yea. It would be a lot easier if I didn’t know somebody was looking over my shoulder every two seconds.”

“I’m not over your shoulder. I’m by the door. You got about two more minutes before this thing blows.” The two bickered like siblings, nobody knowing whether they loved or hated each other. They were constantly at each other’s throats, but they also protected each other, though there were many times when Riker’s protection wasn’t needed because there was almost always a figure lurking behind Kamara, scaring off anyone who came too close. This was not one of those times.

“That’s too bad because I’m already done.” She slowly turned toward Riker, her hand on her hip as a smirk crept on her face. “You cocky motherfucker.”

“I’m not cocky. Just great at my job. Bet you wish you were as good as me, don’t ya?”

“Nah. I think I’ll keep my sanity.”

“I have my sanity.”

“Sane people know when to cut their losses.”

“If I had cut my losses, this whole quad would have blown and we would have lost all of our progress.”

“Better than losing our lives.”

“Funny you say that given I’m pretty sure we’re still breathing, and the decryption is done. Here’s the drive by the way. Might want to get that to the Captain.” She walked toward him as she extended her hand with the flash drive to the Sergeant. It wasn’t that he hated Kamara. He actually adored her, but it sometimes seemed like he was the only one who worried about her, everyone else letting her run wild just because she was an excellent asset.

The building shook and a blare filled the room, causing Kamara and the sergeant’s ears to ring, unable to hear each other. The sergeant yelled something, but she couldn’t make out what he was saying. Her vision blurred while she tried to scope out her surroundings, still trying to keep herself steady by holding onto Riker as he covered her. The cement ceilings covered the room in dust after another shock hit, bringing the soldiers back to their knees as they lost their balance.

“Bombs!” Kamara yelled and grabbed the sergeant that kneeled by her side, who kept his body over hers, protecting her from any debris that fell from above them. They went towards the entrance and made their way down the path that they first tracked down to find the abandoned building with a computer lab that held a flash drive with a code that could have detonated three bombs across the country. Keeping their heads ducked and staying low, they trekked through fallen debris, using only the flashes of glares that came through the cracks to find an exit and were met with blinding lights that kept them from seeing ahead of them.

“Put your hands up! Drop your weapons!” Kamara’s ears were still ringing, unable to hear much of the commotion that was going on around her. Despite the muffled voices, she was certain she could hear Riker yelling in the background. She felt a grip on her arm and immediately grabbed it, flinging the unknown man over her shoulder and onto the ground. Red filled the pavement below them as Kamara bashed his head with the barrel of her gun. The world was spinning, but she had learned a long time ago how to fight through the toughest of issues. The rest of her team came in blurs, looking to be inside the back of an armored vehicle, but she couldn’t tell who was who and the only person with a distinct uniform was her captain.

Another man approached her and encountered the same fate as his brains painted the pavement beneath them. She pointed her gun at the next armed man that came her way, and they returned the gesture. “Don’t shoot her!” the Captain yelled.

“She just killed two of my men. Why should she live?” The man’s voice was strongly accented, clearly a citizen of the country they were in. Five men surrounded Kamara, pointing their guns at her and yelling complete gibberish, which she identified as Russian once her hearing eased its way back to her. “Mare, put your weapon down!” Though the Captain and Kamara had their differences, she was still his teammate, and he didn’t want to see her killed just because of her prowess.

“Mare? Что это за позывной (What kind of callsign is that),” one soldier jested to his comrades.

“Интересно, почему они так ее называют (I wonder why they call her that),” another one said, each unaware that Kamara could understand them. “Хотите узнать (Want to find out)?” she scorned.

The man who seemed to be the leader of the group cocked his head at the blood-covered woman who continued to aim her firearm at each man, making circles as she practically spun to watch each of her blind spots.“She speaks Russian,” he said, then hitting the other man next to him on the arm with a smile. “I think Viktor is going to like her. Take her with the rest.” The men came towards her and she let off a shot, clipping one of them in the arm, but she was disarmed too fast for her to shoot again. The men were impressed with her fighting skills, but they quickly subdued her after injecting her with a syringe, bringing her down to her knees and everything around her went blurry until she saw the darkness behind her eyelids, watching her team fade to nothing.

Simon was silent, watching as the men carried her away and put her in the vehicle next to his with the other women of the team. “What are you doing with them?” he asked. He could’ve yelled at her not to fight just like the Captain did. It would have raised the probability of her listening, but once the captors established that there’s a relationship between two people, they will do everything to break them. “Women tend to be more feisty. Easier to keep men and women separated. Don’t worry. We won’t do anything to them.”

Click. Clack. Click. It was the only sound that filled the room as Kamara concentrated on the contents of the flash drive in front of her. Simon couldn’t do much but watch, knowing that speaking would throw her off of her rhythm that she had finally reached. Only three hours had passed, but it felt like it had been ten. The sun was setting, the natural daylight beginning to beam less through the pane of windows that faced the vehicle garage.

Now and then, Kamara would sneak a glance from the corner of her eye at Simon, who continued to watch her suffer through the memories that plagued her head. At times, he would sit next to her to tell her to take a break and when she refused, he’d roll her chair away from the computer and place himself in front of it. There was no point in fighting him, so Kamara gave herself the ten minute breaks that Simon advised she took. When she was up for it, she would lay her head in his lap, focusing on her breathing while Simon gracefully stroked the top of her arm, staying away from her forearm that she kept tucked between her legs.

During the times he wasn’t watching her, he would be on his phone, texting his comrades updates on the situation. “How far have you gotten?” he asked her.

“Not far enough.” How far she actually got through the crypt, she really didn’t know. Every time she felt like she was near the finish line, it seemed like it would run away from her and become out of reach again. “You got an estimate?”

“I’d give it fifteen minutes.” Vibrations floated through Simon’s body, elated that the brutal hours were finally coming to an end, but he needed more validation before he got his hopes too high, following a common phrase of war: never celebrate until you know the war is over.

“Fifteen minutes until you’re done?”

“No. Fifteen minutes until I blow my fucking brains out.” Goddamnit.

Simon knew it’d only be so long before she was cursing out the computer and then blaming herself for not being able to do the encryption. He was surprised she had even gone as long as she did without a complaint, only when he would force her to take a break which he told himself was why she hadn’t exploded yet.

“You need another break.”

“No, I don’t.” Vigorously, her leg bounced up and down as her eyes glued to the screen in front of her. Every code on the screen drew her in, keeping her focus on the decryption needed to crack them. There was no need to look at the keyboard, her muscle memory doing all the work for her. All she had to do was think of what to type and her fingers did the job, seldomly hitting a wrong key, but nothing she couldn’t fix.

“I wasn’t asking.” His shadow started creeping towards her and she rushed to get as much done before her man was pulling her away from the computer once again. Her heartbeat quickened as the shadow got closer to towering over her. “Okay. Okay,” she said as she put her hands up in a surrendering position. “I’ll take a break. Only five minutes this time. I think I’m almost done.”

“Fifteen minutes.”

“But I just said I’m almost-.”

“You said you ‘think’ you’re almost done. If you go back and you aren’t, you’ll be upset and then the process gets worse from there.”

“Fine.” She knew he was right. Simon knew Kamara like the back of his hand. It didn’t matter how many weeks or months he was away from her. He knew everything about her, from how she liked to dress depending on her mood to how many times she had to check the front door before she went to bed, though he had tried to break her of the habit. Anything from the type of forks and spoons she preferred to use to how she liked her sandwiches cut before she ate them. He studied her from the time he laid eyes on her and kept every detail in his head since.

Each chair in the lab had wheels, which Kamara enjoyed. For parts of her breaks, she’d spend her time spinning until her eyes could no longer focus. This time, she rolled herself in the chair to face Simon and propped her feet between his legs onto his chair. Simon didn’t look into it much and just allowed her to do as she pleased, as long as she wasn’t touching the computer. “How’s it going?”

“Terrible.” She used the heel of her foot to pull herself closer to Simon and hung her leg across his lap while keeping her other one bent. Uncertainty crossed Simon’s mind, unable to tell if he could make physical contact with her without making her uncomfortable. It wasn’t anything sexual that crossed his mind, but being able to touch her, even just placing a hand on her leg, would allow him to know that she was present and she wasn’t a figment of his imagination. But he also just wanted to keep her grounded, using his touch to let her know that he was there and not back to where he mind often wandered.

“Anything I can help you with?” If he couldn’t touch her, he had to resort to other options, ones that he knew let her know that he still loved her. Her heart beat faster the closer she got to Simon, but she kept the closure between them to use as exposure therapy for herself. Images of other men crossing her mind aren’t what she wanted to see when she was with her husband. She had her arms crossed and hung her head backwards on the chair, keeping her eyes closed and mentally counting her breaths as she spoke. “Not really. I am hungry, though. The mess hall open?”

“No. But if you want, I probably have something in the office.”

“That would be nice. Can I come?”

“No,” Simon dryly said as he tapped Kamara’s leg twice to signal her to move. A smile crept on her face as she planted her feet onto the floor and followed him to his office that was only a few hallways down from the computer lab. On the way, a group of soldiers chatted near the end of the hallway as they passed by. Kamara had only been to the office a few times, but the first time was all she needed to memorize where to go, so she moved in front of Simon, practically skipping to get some source of food, even if it would be a snack he stashed months before.

She reanalyzed all of her surroundings, noting every detail that had changed since she last visited the base. Chattering filled the adjacent halls, which stopped once Kamara passed. To the soldiers’ defense, Kamara was the first one to be seen coming down the intersecting hall. They wouldn’t have whistled at her if they knew the Lieutenant would be coming in right behind her. Though she ignored them and continued to stride her way towards the office, the lieutenant memorized their faces to note to torture them during their next drills.

Kamara stopped in front of the tall, brown door and pointed at it. “This one, ain’t it?”

They both knew it was the correct door, but sometimes Kamara needed the extra confirmation because she felt like her memory couldn’t be trusted, and Simon always granted her the reassurance that she needed, never pestering her for asking obvious questions.

The office was neat, almost nothing out of place except for the organized chaos of files that sat atop. “Want to bring those to the room so you can work on them?”

“Nah. It’ll get done.” Simon kneeled down to unlock the bottom drawer that was full of protein bars that he kept for late nights. “Choose your favorite.” Kamara’s upper lip curled and her eyes narrowed as her nose scrunched up. “Wow. Could you be any happier?” None of them were her favorite, but it was fun to mess with her. She didn’t even like protein bars.

“They all look like they taste like dirt.”

“They do, but you won’t be hungry anymore. Here,” he said as he pulled out a protein bar with a blue lining and held it out for Kamara to grab. She nuzzled Simon’s hand away and continued to look through the drawer with hopes to find something other than a protein bar. “No, you take it. You haven’t eaten either. I’ll just have a different one.”

“You take it. It tastes less like dirt.”

“It’s your favorite, no?” How did she know that? He had said nothing about it being his favorite and had only inquired about hers. Simon raised an eyebrow, his head tilting so slightly it wouldn’t have been noticeable if Kamara wasn’t paying close attention. “What makes you say that?”

“Because that’s the last one. You eat that flavor the most.” Being so observant was one of Kamara’s most noticeable qualities. Every room they walked in and every field they fought in, Kamara had already memorized every nook and cranny, every object out of place, and every blind spot. Unfortunately for Simon, Kamara’s observance also involved people, himself included, so anytime he wanted to be mysterious, like everyone perceived him to be, Kamara was always the one to figure out the mystery.

“What do you think Ghost is staring at?”

“Probably his next victim.” Kamara heard the soldiers chatting while she ate her sandwich, keeping her eye on the towering man that kept his gaze on a soldier who was roughhousing with his comrades. She moved from her seat and made her way towards Sergeant Riley with her sandwich in her hand. Chewing her food, she stepped in front of him, partially blocking his line of sight. She held the bitten half of her sandwich up to him. “Eat it.”

His eyes moved toward her, but he kept his head toward the other soldier. “Is she crazy? What is she doing?” The woman’s bravery appalled the private. Everyone knew they should not talk to Ghost unless he spoke to them. He was only a sergeant, but his presence still sent chills down many soldiers’ spines.

“Nah. I’m good,” he said as he nudged her arm out of the way. “You haven’t eaten.” She held the sandwich out again. Ghost kept his head turned towards the soldiers behind her. Kamara followed his gaze, identifying the soldier that had her boyfriend’s attention. “You still mad about that?”

Just a few hours earlier, one private had made the innocent mistake of flirting with Kamara, who kindly rejected him and continued about her day. But that isn’t what pissed Ghost off. Where the private went wrong is when he caught Kamara off guard and pinned her against the wall while she left the gym. Ghost saw the scene through the window of the room, but by the time he rushed in, the private was screaming on the ground with his arm forced behind his back, small cracks being heard as Kamara drew his arm back more while he wailed in pain.

“He touched you.”

“Nothing I couldn’t handle. So eat. You’re not you when you’re hungry,” she humored, her bright smile spreading across her face while she held back her own laughter.

“You’re not funny,” Ghost said as he took the sandwich from Kamara’s hand. “I know. I’m hilarious.” He eyed the sandwich, noticing a chunk of it was missing.“You bit off of it.”

“And? You’ve had your mouth in worse places.”

He shrugged his shoulders and said, “Those places are pretty good to me.” He lifted his mask slightly to take a bite of the sandwich as he smirked. “Goodbye, Simon,” Kamara said with a shy smile as she walked away shaking her head, returning to the table she previously sat at. Moments later, the man everyone feared was sitting next to her, his gaze now on her.

“I have another box that I haven’t opened. You can have it.”

“Alright. Whatever you say,” she said as she grabbed the bar out of his hand and also grabbed another one with purple lining out of the drawer before closing it. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” With a small grin crossing her face as she locked eyes with Simon, she said the three words she felt hadn’t been said in ages,“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

By the time they made their way back to the lab, the soldiers were already gone. They figured they scattered right after the lieutenant left their sight, too embarrassed to face him again.

“Who’s that?” Kamara asked as she spotted a woman coming from the hallway of the computer lab. It was the only room down that end of the hall, so she became more alarmed when she thought the woman had been near the drive. “That’s one of the cyops I told you about. She was the only one that got somewhere. Her name is Anya.”

“Hey there, L.T.” Anya had noticeable dirty blonde hair which Kamara noticed was close to Simon’s hair color. Her hair was cut into a bob and she was only a few inches taller than Kamara was. While she wasn’t a threat to Simon, Kamara kept her eyes on her, tracking each of her movements and memorizing every feature on her body. A bead of sweat dripped down Anya’s face, but that wasn’t uncommon for people in the building. The air conditioning had been broken for ages, causing discomfort to everyone in the building. Every attempt to fix it resulted in a few minutes of warm air, followed by a few bangs to signify the air conditioning had decided it no longer wanted to run.

“Hello. What are you doing this way?” Everyone respected Ghost. He was the Lieutenant, after all. And not just any lieutenant, but the Lieutenant of the 141. Everyone on the 141 was respected, but other operators and soldiers ensured to keep their respects at an all-time high around the members of the Task Force.

“I was actually looking for you. I wanted to ask if I could give the decryption another go.”

“Thank you for your time, but we found someone else to do the decryption.” Simon and Anya kept eye contact. He didn’t feel the need to hint that Kamara was the one doing the decryption, but it was evident Anya got the hint. His voice was steady and confident, like he knew that Kamara was the one. The only one that could handle the task that everyone seemed to have failed. Kamara kept her position like Simon’s shadow, staying close behind him and letting Anya know she was there. “Oh, alright. I’m sorry I couldn’t be of much help.”

“You did great.”

“Thank you, L.T,” she said, feeling Kamara’s glare pierce her skin, and then heading down the hallway. The pair entered the computer lab and took a seat. Kamara opened up the protein bar that she pulled from the drawer and began eating it. “The hell are you doing?” It was startling how quickly Simon’s tone changed, Kamara almost dropping her protein bar like she was a child who had gotten in trouble. She raised her eyebrows and covered her mouth filled with the bland tasting protein bar. “Um…eating?”

“That’s not the one I gave you.” Oh. He noticed. Simon was about just as observant as Kamara was, if not more. The only difference was that he couldn’t memorize every detail of his surroundings like she could, but he took note of every detail that seemed important and held onto it until the mission was complete and the information was no longer needed.

“I know. The blue one is for you.”

“I gave it to you.”

“But it was the last of that flavor and it’s your favorite, so you can have it.” As much as Kamara appreciated Simon’s selflessness, sometimes she felt like she was taking more than she was giving. She wasn’t sure how she could show Simon her appreciation other than reciprocating the gestures and supporting him in whatever he needed.

“I told you I had another box.”

“I wasn’t born yesterday. Eat the damn protein bar.” The rumbling of Simon’s stomach interrupted the silence. “Nah. I’m good.” Kamara’s eyes narrowed and she held her hands on her hips.“Suit yourself. I’ll keep it in my pocket for emergencies then.” She placed the bar in the pocket of her cargo pants, her favorite pair that she had gotten when she first enlisted.

Crumbs fell onto the chair with most of the protein bar, only about sixty percent of it being able to be eaten as a whole. From the looks of it, the computer was untouched, but Kamara still had a feeling something was wrong. She ignored the twisting feeling in her chest and continued to decrypt the code for another hour. “What the hell?” Her voice was higher than usual, unlike her typical naturally deeper and raspy voice

“What’s wrong?”

“No…no…no… Simon!” He rushed over to Kamara, who was beginning to panic, her eyes nearly popping out her skull. “What is it?”

“Look!” There was nothing there—at least nothing he could see—that looked out of the ordinary. “What am I looking at?”

“Read it!” She was panicking as she pointed to the screen filled with what looked like gibberish formed into some kind of symbol. He read over the foreign code, but could find nothing peculiar about it, let alone anything that should have made Kamara as scared as she seemed. “How did I not catch this before?” A tear trickled down her face as she stared at the screen.

“I need you to tell me what’s going on, Mar.” She silently outlined the code with her finger, forming an hourglass-like symbol. “I’m not understanding.” The symbol seemed vaguely familiar to Simon, but he couldn’t put his finger on it, but it was clear that Kamara knew exactly what it was. “Did you not read the fucking screen?”

“Aye. Calm it down,” he commanded. It was rare he had to be stern with Kamara outside of the field, but sometimes it was like she forgot he was her husband and not another soldier she could speak to in any way. She took a deep breath and apologized. “It’s in Russian. I can’t read it,” he explained. Her face soured, not even realizing that the code was in Russian because it came to her just like English. She looked back at the screen and started following each line of code and inquiring,“Do you know a Kate Laswell?:

“Yes. See’s the Chief Officer. CIA.”

“Soap and Gaz.”

“What are you on about?”

“Their names are in this code with what I’m guessing is their home addresses. Price is here, too,” she explained as she pointed to another name on the list. “Do you know who this is,” she asked as she said another name.

“Laswell’s wife.” Kamara read aloud more names, including Simon’s and her own, but she halted once she reached a name that made her stomach drop. “Si, where are the keys to the garage?”

“I have the keycard right here. What’s wrong?” He pulled out the keycard attached to his keys and held it up.“You got a motorcycle in there?”

“Loads of them. Kamara, talk to me, love.” She enforced Simon’s attention to the screen as she pointed out multiple names and read them aloud: Tommy Miller. Joel Miller. Sarah Miller. Ellie Williams.

“Fucking hell.”

“We have to get to them now!”

“We can go around back to get to the garage.”

“Nah, it’ll take too long.” She unplugged the printer that sat at the end of the row of computers and picked it up to put above her head. “What are you doing?” Immediately, the windows shattered, and the printer fell to the outside ground below them. Luckily, they were on the first floor, so no one was injured. “The garage is right there. Let’s go!” They rushed out the broken window and Simon equipped his keycard to enter the garage. He broke out the keys to a car, but Kamara went right past it.

“Where are you going? The car is right here.”

“Not fast enough. Where are the keys to this motorcycle?”

“Under the backseat cover.” The revving of the motorcycle filled the garage, but Simon stopped Kamara before she could take off, holding a helmet in his hand. “Take this. You can talk through the mic. I’ll be right behind you.” She put on the helmet and immediately sped off, almost leaving Simon completely in the dust as she went past Price, Soap, and Gaz. He mounted onto his own motorcycle, the one assigned to him when he was appointed the role of lieutenant. Before he could exit the garage, he was stopped. “What’s going on, L.T?”

“No time to explain. Hop in the car and follow the GPS.” Each of them followed instructions, though Soap grabbed a motorcycle instead of getting in the car with Price and Gaz. They sped towards Simon, who was doing his best to catch up to Kamara, but from the looks of his tracker, he’d have to up his speed if he wanted to catch up to her, so he did exactly that. “Ghost, tell your wife she’s on the wrong side of the road.”

“I’m sure she knows that.”

“She’s gonna get herself killed.”

“She’ll be fine.” Since he’d known her, Kamara had always done everything in a way that was more dangerous, but efficient, somehow always coming out on the other end alive. It scared him to death, but if he didn’t tell himself that she would be okay, he would panic, and there was no time for that.

Joel’s house was an hour away—an hour and a half with traffic. Kamara was almost maximizing the speed of the motorcycle, completely leaving everyone but Simon, who wasn’t far behind her, in the dust. Soap was starting to come close behind Simon, but kept his speed lower to give him room for any hard stops.

“Oncoming traffic. She’s gonna have to slow down. There’s no side streets,” Price said through the intercom. No one was sure if Kamara could hear, but she should have been able to. The adrenaline that pumped through her veins made it harder for her to focus on anything other than getting to Ellie. Her ears filled with the drumming noise of her heart. “Mar, you’re heading into traffic.”

“I see that.”

“This is a busy street. It's a semi alley.”

She kept quiet on the other line and spotted a vehicle on the side of the street that had a wooden ramp strong enough to hold the force of the bike. “What’s she doing?” Soap asked, watching Kamara’s motorcycle speed to the side.

“There’s too many semis.”

“I told you that. You gotta find another way, Mar.”

“I am.” She revved the motorcycle more and increased the speed, flying up the ramp of the vehicle. “What the hell?” Gaz said as he witnessed Kamara on the motorcycle flying through the air. He and Price leaned forward to watch as Kamara flew above the semi-trucks and lost sight of her once she was on the other end.

“I lost visual!”

“Kamara, are you still there?”

“She must’ve damaged the comms during the landing.” Soap and Simon got around the cars once Kamara was over, but Gaz and Price had to find another way to cut through. “Contacting Laswell,” Simon said.

“Her tracker is out,” Gaz informed Ghost through his coms. “Damnit, Kamara,” Simon said under his breath. Luckily for them, there was no body and only a few scraps from the motorcycle left on the other side of the road, so they had high hopes that she was still alive. “How much further, L.T?”

“Not far.” Laswell was on the other end of the line requesting immediate intel on the situation after hearing Simon’s requests..

“Where is she now?”

“On her way to the house.”

“Okay, but she can’t go alone. She isn’t authorized.”

“She’s too far ahead.”

“She’s not armed, is she?”

“No.”

“Good, so she can’t do too much damage. As long as she controls her temper and is patient enough upon arrival, everything will be fine.”

“She’s been working on her temper at home.”

“That’s good, so she shouldn’t cause any problems then. I’ll meet you all there and follow through with your request.”

It felt like forever until everyone reached Joel’s house. Smoke filled the air and ash fell from the sky, turning the black motorcycle gray. “Holy shit,” Soap said as they approached the scene. Crowds filled the area as the firefighters attempted to put out the fire. They were struggling to do their job as they held a wailing woman back from entering the burning house.

Simon rushed over and grabbed the woman that was practically fighting the firefighters. “Kamara! I need you to calm down!” Her mourns broke his heart, her sobs uncontrollable at the thought of losing her daughter. He dragged his wife to the side of the road where no one was watching, no one important, at least. She tried to break herself from his hold and run to the house, but Simon was too strong. Soap, Gaz, and Price issued everyone back to their homes, clearing the scene for any incoming backup Laswell may bring.

“Mar, listen to me.” Every noise and voice around Kamara was muffled. The only thing she could hear were her own screams that strained her throat. Her chest tightened like she could feel her lungs being crushed by a bed of rocks and her heart being squeezed too tight.

“She’s dead,” she sobbed into Simon’s arms. He held her as tight as he could, trying to keep her wails muffled between the two of them. “She’s dead! I was too late! She’s gone!” Her tears stained his shirt, his own almost breaching his eyes as the weight of Kamara and her pain nearly suffocated him.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Two Point Five

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