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whirlybirbs · 3 months ago

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— BRUISED EGO ; PART ONE ; TOSHINORI YAGI ; 俊典

summary: you & toshinori have a great working relationship. all might is like a mentor. a great guy. a real, stand-up dude. a hero who inevitably has to help you deal with the side-effects of being hit with a love quirk. pairing: younger!toshinori yagi / f!reader ; hero name: derecho word count: 3.6k of pure smut tags: afab!reader, fingering, oral (female receiving), piv, denying feelings, toshi being a genuine lover-boy, someone has a praise kink, surprise it's me, minors dni a/n: i love young dumb full of cum late-twenties all might the tag | next →

"You don't look well—"

"Don't."

You could fry him right now. You could totally, absolutely, blast him with ten thousand volts and call it a night — but you can't, really, because he's fucking All Might. He's All Might and even worse, he's Toshinori Yagi.

He's... kind. And gentle. And patient. And levelheaded... If not the single reason your entire life fell apart seven years ago.

(That is not true. You know it. You and your therapist have worked through that stuck point — but, it sounds a hell of a lot better than explaining the reason you ended up in prison was by your own actions, not being caught by All Might.)

You're reformed.

Blah, blah, blah, you're the Villain Rehabilitation Program's star graduate.

They loved using your imagery — the ones of you before you got clean off those Quirk enhancers and put on the straight and narrow —in their PR packages. They love that picture of you — the ones with hands behind your back — cuffed by All Might as you're effectively muzzled by the local law enforcement.

Your lip catches in a snarl.

Don't think about that.

Don't think about his hands on your wrists. Don't think about the way his boot nudged your leg apart for the frisk — don't think about the way he threatened you, so low and so dangerous, not to move.

Don't think about how All Might is a bastard, and the media just doesn't know it.

He's cheeky. Sly. When he's out of the limelight, that eerie #1 smile drops and he's almost normal — if not nearly five hundred and sixty pounds of muscle.

Like now, on this rooftop, he's more like Toshinori Yagi. Your impromptu mentor in all things heroic. After all, the Hero Commission thought it would be great for the program's image if All Might, the man who arrested you countless times, was the one to integrate you into a more heroic notion. Never mind the dozens of times you went head-to-head with the man, never mind the handful of times you almost won.

"Derecho, I'm serious," comes his voice; it's softer, almost like he's in his smaller form — the one you always find yourself being partial to, "You look feverish..."

Static snaps across the air and Toshinori takes it — the way it bites at the skin of his hands is nothing. It's a warning shot. Don't come any closer.

"I was hit with that guy's quirk," you mutter as you try to square your breathing, "I'm fine, I just... Need some time—"

Son of a bitch.

You've always been a hard one to shake — and even now, as you climb well into the Top Ten ranks, he's never seen you this out of it. You've taken a crowbar to the ribs and recovered better than being hit by some petty criminal's love quirk.

Toshinori curses under his breath as he winces at the desperation cracking in your voice.

"If you need to take the night—"

"Yes."

He was slotted to patrol this prefecture with you for another two hours — but seeing the way your whole body looks like it could collapse is... a bit concerning. Toshinori nods, exhales, and waves you on.

"Should I call Recovery Girl?"

Your boot toes the ledge. You need out of this outfit. It's too tight. You're too hot. Your skin feels like it's on fire and the embarrassing ache between your legs is just getting worse with every low, timbred syllable out of his mouth. Don't think about his mouth.

"I'm fine."

You're not fine.

Even when you're back in your apartment, trying desperately to shower off the skin-crawling, mouth-watering heat of desire, you can't even come close to relating to the word 'fine'. You're a mess. You try to stand under the heat of the water for a while, to burn the need off your skin, but that doesn't work.

You're so not fine.

You can't stop thinking about Toshinori. Must be something to do with the fact he was closest when you were struck with the quirk. Yea. Totally that.

You have to be fine. You need to be fine. This is just a stupid love quirk that will wear off within a few hours.

Well, a few hours come and go, and it's just getting worse.

Come on, you are torturing yourself with the evening news, just breathe it out.

Because you're a hero, and you were a villain. You know what it's like to get hit with disconcerting quirks like this in the heat of a battle. With just a little time, it goes away. Right?

Right...?

"I AM CALLING! I AM CALLING!"

Your phone vibrates on the coffee table. Your pupils, full-blown and big, swivel to the photo that ignites the dark of the room. It's a photo of Toshinori — he's in his smaller form, posed beside you in a ramen booth close to U.A.'s campus. He was hellbent on giving you a tour of his old high school.

You always loved how cute he looked in that picture.

Fuck.

You snatch the phone up and answer the call.

"What?" it comes out snappier than it needs to be.

"Are you doin' alright?" his voice has lost its persona'd gusto. You can tell, just by the soft way he speaks, he's no longer in uniform or on patrol. All Might has clocked out for the evening, and Toshinori Yagi is in the building, "I haven't heard a peep from you all night, zippy."

Something in your brain goes blank at the nickname. You usually hate it. Usually, you'd bite at him for it. You don't even realize you're white knuckle gripping the edge of the couch as he continues to speak.

"Y'know, it's okay — I've been hit by love quirks plenty of times before," he goes on; you can hear him juggle the phone to his other ear, "They aren't fun. I'm sorry you're—"

"Come over."

Toshinori almost drops the can of soda in his hands. In the middle of the convenience store aisle, he feels his entire body lurch.

"What?"

Your head is back against the couch, your hands covering your face in sheer embarrassment. You grit it out again. "I said come over."

"Derecho—"

"I've tried everything," you mutter defeatedly into the phone; you can't even pull your hand from your face, you're so embarrassed you're even telling him this but you need help, "Fingers, toys, even the Hitachi on the highest speed, Toshinori, and I can't—"

Jesus fucking Christ.

This is bad.

This is... not you. So not you. This is... fuck, okay, right. He's All Might. He helps people. And you're important to him. You're his enemy turned pseudo-protégé turned colleague turned woman-he's-been-ignoring-his-feelings-for-the-last-seven-months. You're Derecho. Number Eight Hero in Japan, his friend. His...

"Give me ten."

And he hangs up.

Two boxes of XL condoms earn him a severely skeptical look from the cashier, but it's fine. Toshinori has bigger things to worry about — like the fact he has no idea what this is going to do to your working relationship, but it's fine. You need help. He knows what this is like — and he would feel awful if he left you to deal with it alone.

Fingers, toys, even the Hitachi—

Maybe he'll die, actually. Maybe he'll just throw himself from the nearest roof.

The mental image of you, alone in your apartment, hands between your thighs as you try desperately to shake the painful ache in your core has him walking a bit faster — your apartment is three blocks over.

He makes good time.

His knuckles don't even touch the door before you're yanking it open — and Christ, you're a sight to see.

Wet hair, wild eyes, and a permanent heavy breath. The oversized t-shirt clinging to your shoulders is definitely going to be a topic of discussion for a later date. It's All Might merch. His fucking merch.

When did you even buy that—?

"I'm sorry," you blurt out, looking pained.

Toshinori's eyes hold your own. Then:

"I've always been a sucker for a damsel in distress."

He's a bastard. A serious bastard. A bastard who you're dragging in by the neck of his t-shirt — a bastard who doesn't complain in the slightest when your mouth is on his in a flash. With ease, he slams the front door shut with his boot and quickly allows you to guide him through your apartment. Your mouth is still latched to his, your hands digging into his shoulders as his hands chase your waist.

You recognize in the heated haze of the kiss there's a grocery bag in his hand. It knocks against your hip as you accidentally back into the edge of the couch — your hands fumbling for some purchase in the dark living room.

You pull your mouth from his just long enough to breathe out another apology.

"Don't. We'll talk about it after," he says, leaning down over you as you scramble back against the leather couch cushions, "What do you need?"

"What do you think?" you hiss as his body presses against yours; he's still in his boots, still in his shirt and jeans. He's... too clothed. Your body couldn't handle anything except the less-than-flattering pair of cotton underwear and the biggest t-shirt you owned.

You swear he's smirking in the dark.

"Mouth? Hands?" he presses, his touch cradling your face as he continues to navigate your steady, bruisingly needy kisses, "Use your words."

"Anything—"

Your voice is a rasp, your hands scaling his back as he nudges your knees apart with his thigh and slots his hips against yours. Even in this smaller form, he's got the tactical advantage — not being near death from a fever so high you can hardly think anymore.

"I need to know," he says as he leans back, his voice dipping lower as his palms brush the skin of your stomach. His fingertips hesitate at the edge of your waistband, and you whine.

"Anything, Toshinori, stop jerking me around!"

...What a brat. He almost laughs. But, then he remembers the one time he was left like this — and how desperate he was even after six hours of exhaustive attempts at self-pleasure.

"Be nice," he chirps as his fingers slip beneath your underwear; his satisfaction builds when you fist the back of his shirt and gasp — his fingers grace the slick, wet folds of your core with ease. It's a tender movement, one that assesses just how pliable you are at this moment.

And then, two of his fingers are pushing into you down to his knuckles.

The babbled thank you bursts from your chest — and Toshi actually laughs at how fast you cling to his chest. He didn't anticipate his night going like this. Not with you, wild-eyed and desperate, pulling him into a kiss that's so bruising he thinks his lip splits.

Hands. Hands. Hands. His hands. One hand is between your folds, working you open, and the other is pressing up your curves and settling along your breast. You can't even think straight. The fact Toshinori is so slick, so eager, so good at whatever he's doing, is making the coil in your abdomen go white hot.

"Fuck—" you strangle out, your lips parted in a gasp as he wets his own lips and watches your face in the dark, "G-God, okay, th-that's good—"

"Better than your own?" he asks, genuinely worried this isn't the progress you need to shake off the quirk's effects.

"So much better," you wail, coincidentally fueling his ego in a way he never knew he needed. Because, ha, well — who knew Derecho, little miss spiteful and mysterious, just needed a little bit of him.

"Is it enough?" he asks against her jaw, his forearm flexing as he works the pace up, his palm rubbing gently against your clit. It's an attempt at a coordinated pace, and it seems to be working from the way you're writhing beneath him.

"I... I still — I can't — I'm so..." you look like you could cry out of sheer frustration, and Toshi suddenly feels a pang of guilt. He can only imagine how you've done this very thing over and over tonight, trying to just cum. Your voice cracks and you whimper, "I can't. I'm so close, but I just can't—"

"Okay," he breathes, his mind swirling with strategic planning, "So mouth."

"Mouth?" you choke, suddenly looking alarmed, but Toshi doesn't seem to care about the added snare of intimacy that comes with him slipping to his knees before the couch.

Oh my god, he's on his knees. He's on his knees and he's grappling with your underwear, hauling it down the tops of your thighs before throwing it over his shoulder in a very Toshinori manner.

You've got All Might on his knees.

It suddenly hits you as he sits up on his knees and nudges your legs apart. He's a man on a mission — dedicated entirely to the task at hand.

Making you orgasm.

You wonder how many people have fantasized about this very thing — granted, he's not costume. Thank god. You can't even imagine what the conversation with his dry-cleaning team would look like.

Toshi's voice knocks you back to reality. "Is this okay?"

He sounds concerned.

Meanwhile, you could kill him. If he doesn't put his mouth on you right now—

Noted. He sees the spark of annoyance, dumb question, and hauls your leg over his shoulder as he delves in.

Ohmygod.

This is better — the coil is wound tighter, and a little bit closer to snapping, the second his tongue presses flat against your glistening slick. It's even better when he hums, his voice mumbles against your sex as his hands press your thighs to open a bit farther.

"Keep 'em open."

"Don't talk," you heave between pants, "With your mouth full."

It's like the two of you are at work — this banter. But, his laugh vibrates your core and you moan. That doesn't happen at work. That doesn't happen, ever. A greedy part of you sure as hell hopes this happens again, because holy hell, he's good at this. Methodical. Strategic. Thorough.

His pace doesn't change, the pressure doesn't lessen. The blonde streaks of his fringe tickle the inside of your thighs as he continues his work — and you swear you almost cum when he slips a look up at you in the dark.

His eyes are so blue that you feel like you're suddenly lost at sea.

Then, there are two crooked fingers back inside of you.

You and he are going to have to have a long talk about where he learned all this — because it's so good you genuinely can't do anything but reach out and grip his hair in a panic. You gasp, your whole body convulses, and you almost... almost cum. Almost.

It's Toshi's turn to moan.

You're suddenly so oversensitive you swear your heart might stop.

You're writhing away from him, squirming away, and Toshi's lips are parted as his breath fans across your core.

"Cock," you're suddenly rambling, "N-Need — I need—"

"Right," he stutters, realizing this is good — you're almost there, he can tell. You're so close he can feel it in the air. The static electricity burning off your quirk leaves the room feeling tingly.

He's wobbling back upright, cursing as he practically falls around the couch in the dark, and palms at the grocery bag he discarded on the floor. He's not graceful about the way he tears about the small box, or about the way he drops the foil square between his teeth as he leans back to work off his belt.

"Bedroom?" he asks through gritted teeth.

You're nodding, practically falling over yourself to lead the way. Boots, jeans, belt, shirt — all of it is left scattered along the way, and your bare body hits the sheets after an easy shove from Toshinori. Of course, the boxers clinging to his strong thighs are his brand. The All Might logo is almost comical stretched across his hardness.

You have the wherewithal to roll your eyes as he tears open the condom with his teeth.

"What?" he shirks, looking down.

"Seriously?" you grit, legs pressed together tightly to try and stop the empty ache between your legs. It hurts. It hurts so much worse when his mouth and hands aren't on you.

"Don't even start," he rumbles as he rolls down the waistband and his cock springs free — he's quick to roll the condom down the thick length of it and lift a finger to wag in your face, "You answered the door in my merch—"

"Setting the mood," you offer as he steps out of his underwear.

Toshinori then, unceremoniously, drags your hips to the edge of the bed. You almost shriek. It's a bit rough — a bit sudden — but you can't complain when the head of his cock is suddenly being guided through your folds teasingly. Up and down. Over the swollen bud of your clit, across your wet opening. You prop yourself up on your elbows, lips parted, as you try and nudge your hips closer.

His large hand presses your hips down to the mattress.

"Toshinori—"

"You sure this is okay?" he mutters, his pupils full-blown as he watches himself slip through your wetness, "I— If it's too much—"

"If you don't fuck me right now—"

"Right."

And he sinks in.

Ha.

Yea.

This is good.

You're so glad you didn't fry him earlier. You're so glad. You're so... oh, this is so so so ridiculously good you might die. You might die, because he's snapping his hips into yours and you can see the ripple of his muscles, even in this smaller form.

His breath is ragged, his voice low and easy.

"You're doing a great job," he says; your core tightens at the sudden praise, "Y-You're doin' really... good—"

Your chest bounces with each thrust, your legs locked around his hips, your whimpers increasing in frequency with every single in and out of his cock. The feeling is better than any sex you've ever had — you've never been so aware of every inch.

And then, he's knocking his forehead against yours, leaning over you — you're caged against the mattress, and one arm of his is holding your leg up around his waist. The angle change is minute but it's good. Everything is Toshinori so suddenly, everything is so blue eyes and a bright smile.

It's thorough, a word you're slowly beginning to realize describes Toshinori to a T. There's not a single falter in his pace, not a single thrust that doesn't wind the white-hot orgasm tighter and tighter in your belly. It's worse when he holds your face, though, worse when he keeps fucking you so well while chattering on about how good you are, how strong you are, how beautiful you are—

Your composure snaps when he rumbles out:

"I know you can cum for me like a good girl."

The coil snaps.

Finally.

After four hours of torture. After four hours of trying. Finally, you cum — and hard. The sort that robs you of your vision and hearing, the sort that has your whole body arching off the bed. The kind you haven't had in a long time. The kind that, of course, Toshinori Yagi would be the man to provide.

"Fuckfuckfuck—" you babble, gasping, still gripped by the force of the orgasm as his pace quickens.

He's laughing — laughing, and then you're clamping down on him so hard he sees stars. It's all fun and games until he can't stop himself, he can't slow down, he can't breathe, and he's rocked by an orgasm that makes his knees give out. He's wild-eyed, panting, snapping his hips into yours as you whimper and gasp and grip his shoulders so tight he may have bruises.

Toshinori swallows, then gasps to catch his breath, and then pushes himself up to give you a little room to breathe. His cock is still twitching inside of you.

Your eyes are closed, and your breath is fast. Your hair is spilled across the sheet — and you look content. Satiated. Peaceful. He's rarely ever seen you so tranquil.

Blindly, and lazily, you reach up to touch his cheek.

At first, he thinks it's going to be tender. Intimate. Romantic.

Then, you roughly pat it twice.

"We're never gonna talk about this again."

Right.

Because he's All Might. And you're Derecho. You're colleagues. Friends. This was just... him helping you. Like when a friend has a cold. You bring them soup. He... brought you... an orgasm. Just like soup.

Definitely.

...Right.

"It was just, uh," he breathes, pulling out and cursing at the embarrassingly apparent load in the condom; not like he'd dreamed about this very thing for nights on end, no siree bob, "You needed help. I offered."

That is not what happened. Not even close. But, he's going to tell himself that.

Not like you totally won't think about this every single night ever for the rest of time. Definitely like you won't dream about the way he called you a good girl. Ha. Yea, right. Psh. You're fine. This is fine. Everything is fine.

After all, it's just Toshinori.

He's... kind. And gentle. And patient. And levelheaded... If not the single reason your entire life fell apart seven years ago.

And definitely not the reason your life is falling apart right now as you realize, fuck, you're definitely in love with him, aren't you?

Naaah.

#this is a rare birbs smut #toshinori x reader #all might x reader #mha imagine #mha x reader #toshinori yagi #all might x you #mha imagines #toshinori yagi x reader #toshinori yagi x you #mha smut #i would take back shots from this man at any age of his #bruised ego

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jammyjen26 · 3 months ago

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He hates it.

Watching you smile and laugh with any other men that wasn’t him.

However, he knows damn well he deserves this pain.

You and Simon used to be friends, if not best friends. He felt feelings he didn’t feel before and decided to push you away.

Treating you harshly, making you cry until you finally turned your hack and left for good.

Three years has passed and he’s still not over you.

Without much of a thought, he shoves his way past everyone else in the club and reaches you. Grabbing your wrist and leading you outside.

“What the fuck?!” You shout in anger, shoving him away. A shove that barely makes him stumble.

“I don’t wanna see you with other men.” He mutters, glaring at you.

You scoff in disbelief and cross your arms, sneering before replying to him.

��Why does it matter to you? You wanted me gone, I left. Now you’re chasing after me?”

You laugh, how could a man be so mean and cruel. Break you apart and now wants to be back in your life as if nothing happened?

“I want to apologize.” He huffs out, a hand running through his hair.

“You, apologize? I must be hearing wrong.” Although you’re angry, you want to forgive him and move on from the past. You want to give in.

“Yes, I want to apologize for being such a damn bastard. I treated you like shit because I couldn’t handle my feelings, so I want to apologize. Forgive me?” He says, staring into your eyes to make sure you know that he’s being serious.

You stare at him, deep in thought. Only the sound of the buzzing streets and the music from the club breaking the silence.

“Fine. Though you have to get me lunch everyday for two weeks.” You say with a cheeky grin.

“Deal.” He says before pinning you against the wall and kissing you like a man that’s found water after being in the desert for years.

Maybe it’s good to move on after all.

#call of duty #cod x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley #female reader #fluff

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elllisaaa · 9 months ago

Note

Can I pls request seventeen reaction when they have a crush on reader they get jealous when she hangs out with her guy best friend (they are also super close) more than them?

hiii anonie ! i love that everyone keeps sending me these type of request for seventeen because i love to do them so so much ! hope you'll like it !

seventeen being jealous of your bff

-> pairing : svt x gn!reader

-> word count : 2.7k

-> genre : fluff

-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated !

-> sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language.

-> masterlist | svt masterlist

CHOI SEUNGCHEOL

Despite Seungcheol being cute and sweet around you most of the time, he’s not so chill anymore when he sees you being all over another guy. He perfectly knows that he’s your best friend, perfectly knows that you want both of them to get along well because that’s why you asked him to come with you to this café, but he couldn’t help glaring at the other guy like he committed the worst crimes ever. Cheol tried his best to remain respectful and answer your best friend's questions, but he couldn’t help feeling a little jealous at watching you laugh with someone else about things he had no clue about. This would make him realize how bad he wanted to be with you, and how dumb it was of him to try and act as if he was not smitten by you. After this meeting during which he spent the whole time staring at the guy, he would plan the perfect confession to tell you how he feels about you and to not have to support this anymore.

YOON JEONGHAN

As usual, Jeonghan will act like a little shit. When you told him you wanted to plan a game night with him and your best friend so they could meet, he knew it was his chance to be insufferable. And he was the most annoying the whole night : cheating at every game and pretending to have done nothing, teasing your best friend for being a loser, and being the cheeky bastard he is. Deep down, he just felt like he was too late to confess to you about his crush, seeing how close and comfortable you seemed to be with this other guy. And it was only the worst side of him telling him to take some kind of revenge by being very irritating. Though Jeonghan would feel bad when you left and told him that he could’ve been nicer to your best friend. The last thing he wanted was to make you feel like he didn’t care about you and your emotions. It would take him a few hours of deep thinking before he sent you the longest text ever to explain his behavior and thus confess.

HONG JOSHUA

Not being a very jealous person, Joshua didn’t expect the rush of anger that came with running into you and your best friend at the mall. There was seemingly nothing to be jealous about, you were just acting like a normal person being close and affectionate with their best friend. He was perfectly aware of that, but still, he felt like the third wheel while walking with the two of you. When he would try to talk to you, the other guy would always open his mouth and Joshua was getting really annoyed. Finally, your best friend left, leaving you with a pouty Joshua. You would ask him what’s wrong, and why he didn’t make an effort to get along with your best friend. And even if Joshua had been planning to confess for some time, trying to think about the most romantic way to do it, seeing another guy looking at you with the same lovestruck gaze he stared at you with was his last straw. He would tell you all about his feelings on the spot and pray inside that will not reject him.

MOON JUNHUI

He really holds his heart on his sleeve, so it’s not difficult to notice whether he’s happy or angry. Thus when you presented your long distance best friend that you hadn’t seen in a long time to him and his members, you could see how annoyed he was by the other guy's presence. You had every right to be all over someone you hadn’t seen in over a year, yes, but Jun felt a little bad anyway. You two had grown closer and closer, and he really thought that you had something special going on, that it was starting to be a little more than a casual friendship on your side too. But when he was seeing how you were acting around your best friend, he was not so sure anymore that you could maybe reciprocate his feelings. You were never so touchy with him, never so affectionate, never so flirty or straightforward. You would obviously notice how bothered and mostly sad Jun seemed to be the entire night but he kept saying that everything was okay, and he would end up leaving earlier because he could not stand the sight anymore. He would doubt a little but in the end, his friends will convince him to confess before it’s too late.

KWON SOONYOUNG

He would think that he’s sleek, but frankly, even you could see that he was jealous of the bond between you and your best friend. You would often bring him with you for your friendly gathering because you didn’t want him to spend his weekends alone and he was getting along well with everyone. Everyone except Soonyoung who couldn’t seem to appreciate him. In all honesty, your best friend was a cool guy, but Soonyoung didn’t want to befriend the guy who could probably steal his crush if he tried. This would get to the point that you would get in a fight with him about it, clearly not pleased that he didn’t make any effort to try and talk with your best friend. Your argument would be really bad, and you would both ignore each other for a week or two, too proud to admit that both of you had some parts to take in the fight. Soonyoung will eventually come back to you, practically begging on his knees to let him back in your life and accidentally confessing along the way of his monologue.

JEON WONWOO

Wonwoo is not one to get jealous easily, especially since you’re only his crush and not his partner, he has nothing to say in who you’re talking to and how you act with these same people. So to be honest, he’s not really jealous of the relationship you have with your best friend, but more of the way this guy is able to openly express his interest in you, always finding a way to compliment you and flirt with you without it making you uncomfortable. Which is precisely what Wonwoo is struggling to do, not knowing if saying that he finds you incredibly pretty in this or that outfit is off limits for “just friends”. Is it different because your bestie has no real attraction towards you and Wonwoo is genuinely trying to show you that he could treat you right ? Probably. But still, he’ll stay more quiet everytime your best friend is with you. You would assume that’s because he doesn’t feel too comfortable with people he doesn’t know much the first few times, and Wonwoo would take care that you don’t discover the real reason while taking mental notes of how to try and show you that he wants more as subtly as possible.

LEE JIHOON

Since he’s always trying to remember the most insignificant details about you and what you like, he would take pride in knowing things that your best friend doesn’t. He would never say it out loud obviously, but still, the discreet smirk on his face would give it away. When you go out at a coffee shop, your best friend always has to ask you what you want when Jihoon simply brings you your usual because he got your order memorized. While your best friend always has to ask you what you want or need for your birthday, Jihoon always knows exactly what to gift you and he never misses. But every time you told him about the things you did alone with the guy, or what you had planned with him for the weekends, he felt a little jealous. At this point, he thinks you’re either not interested in him or that you’re just very dense and oblivious to all the subtle things he does to show his interest in you. You have so much partner privileges and he’s not even your boyfriend. Yet. Because it would take him only a few more times of your best friend missing on what you really like to rush and finish the song he wanted to confess to you with.

LEE SEOKMIN

He doesn’t hide his jealousy well at all, everyone who knows him a little bit is able to tell that he doesn’t like your best friend. He thinks that the guy is not handsome, not interesting and not even funny. Well, not as much as him at least. That is a lie because deep down, he can’t help but wonder if you really like this guy more than him. So Seokmin will try to take as much space as possible, talking louder and making a lot more jokes than usual so that your attention would be on him and not on your best friend. He’s always a little extra on a daily basis, but when your best friend is here too, he’s even more outgoing, to the point he becomes a little annoying. But the only way he has to be more interesting than your best friend is by doing all this, or so he thought. When you told him that it was in fact a little disrespectful for the other guy and that you didn’t understand why he could not try to befriend him when he was usually the sweetest, Seokmin felt like an idiot and apologized immediately, cheeks burning and trying to come up with an excuse. His crush is as well hidden as his jealousy (that is to say, not at all), so you’re only waiting for him to finally confess.

KIM MINGYU

Another one who’s painfully obvious but he wouldn’t make a big deal of it in front of you, simply pouting and getting a lot quieter than he usually is. He will get so sulky, everytime he finds you laughing more at your best friend's jokes than at his. But he finds you so cute that he can’t stay mad at you for too long and he ends up liking the other guy because he’s obviously not mean nor annoying, Mingyu just can’t bear the thought of him snatching your attention away. And if he would of course never say a word about it to you directly, he will definitely complain about your best friend to some of his members, going on and on about why he can’t make up the fact that you like this guy more than him and that he can’t stand to hear you two joke around about things he doesn’t know about. Mingyu’s members would end up telling you to please do something about the situation because they can’t spend another two hours listening to why you should go out with him and not your best friend. He would be so shy when you address the issue with him, trying to deny it despite his red cheeks. But it’s okay because he’s very cute.

XU MINGHAO

He's pretty level-headed so it's not easy to get him to feel jealousy. And if it ever happens, Minghao knows that this emotion is not rational because firstly, you told him time and time how much you loved your relationship with your best friend and didn't want it to change, and secondly, you were not his partner - yet - so he had no right to be jealous. Of course, he doesn't doubt your intentions and what you told him, but he can't help but be suspicious about how your best friend perceives you. Because the guy looks at you the same way Minghao does : with fondness, like you were his entire world. And that was the whole problem. Because Minghao had tried to give you some hints here and there for a few months, just to test the water and you seemed not to have pushed him away so he was happy. But seeing the way you did the same thing with your bestie when you had explicitly told him you didn't have any feelings for him got him worried. Maybe you didn't really like him in the end, maybe you were just trying to be kind and not hurt him ? So rather than being jealous, he would be anxious. It's probably what would give him the little push he needed to finally confess to you.

BOO SEUNGKWAN

I think he would try - and notice how I insist on try - to stay calm and collected because from an outside point of view, there is nothing wrong going on. But from his point of view, your best friend is clearly being too touchy and Seungkwan feels jealous even if he denies it. Because the nasty looks he gives your best friend everytime he hangs out with you kinda gives it away. He’s so obvious but won’t say a word about the real reason. Seungkwan will instead pretend it’s because he doesn’t get along with your best friend and dislikes him. He can’t stop himself from making snarky remarks, or mocking him under the guise of it being a joke. And he would have continued like that if you hadn’t told him one time that you were kinda sad that he didn’t like one of the most important people in your life. Seungkwan would feel bad and make an effort to at least tolerate the guy and be a little less mean but the side eyes everytime he did or said something he found embarrassing didn’t go away. He would certainly not be able to put up with this situation for long, and after another time of him not being nice to your best friend, you would have a silly fight during which he will confess. And magically, he was all gentle and friendly to your bestie after you became his partner.

CHWE HANSOL

Hansol and you immediately clicked when you were introduced to each other, never going through the awkward stage of a friendship. So when you told him how, on the contrary, you stayed pretty long in this uncomfortable situation with your best friend before getting very close to each other, he felt kind of superior to the other guy, like his bond with you was much more real and valid. Hansol didn’t really know where all these feelings were coming from, nor why he felt so upset seeing you hug and be touchy with someone that was not him. Not that both of you were particularly physically affectionate, but you often had a hand on his arm when you talked, or you placed your head on his shoulder when you were watching a movie, or you held on to him or his jacket to not get lost when walking through crowded spaces. And Hansol thought that these moments were special, that he was special in a sense. This wouldn’t really be jealousy, but much more disappointment because he would think he read the signs wrong and start to cancel plans if he knows your best friend will be here. He would however decide to confess or at least do something to sort this problem when you told him that you were sad he was distancing himself from you.

LEE CHAN

Even if his crush on you is pretty obvious, his jealousy would not be so visible. Chan would choose to befriend your bestie instead because you know what they say : keep your friends close and your enemies even closer. So he’ll play the kind and fun guy around him, just to see how your best friend acts with you. And he’s clearly not having it, not loving at all the fact that he always touches you and tries to get closer to you. Sometimes, it even seems like you don’t even want him to touch you and swat his hands away but he always comes back pretending it’s a joke, playfully fighting. But Chan doesn’t need to be an expert in relationships to understand that this is clearly not okay, and he can’t help thinking that he would never do that to you, that he will always respect your consent. He’s also pretty sure that you have a thing for him too so he’s not going to put up with the situation for too long. Until then, he’ll subtly make comments or do things to make you understand his intentions more and to signal to your best friend that he’s not going to take you away from him anymore.

-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my work.

svt taglist (fill in this to be added) :

@lil-kpopstan @hann1bee @iraisswiftie @bewoyewo

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starlight-45 · 1 month ago

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Dating BLLK boys in school! (Part 2)

Featuring:- Hyoma Chigiri, Reo Mikage, Seishiro Nagi (Part 1 here with Yoichi Isagi, Meguru Bachira and Rin Itoshi and here's the masterlist )

A/n: again, don't know where this shit is set. It has their current personalities and they're still in blue lock. Maybe taking a break in off-season and go to school for a change. Idk.

~Hyoma Chigiri~

•Is pretty nonchalant about the whole thing actually he is about most things but gives in easily much to your suprise. he's unpredictable like that.

• To him school was just a place to showcase his talent on a low level before moving on to the bigger stage.

• Kinda really didn't have that many friends, despite being popular as hell because of his looks and talent.

• 'Cause no one really couldn't kept up with his actual sass and sharp personality. Well expect for you now, darling! Don't expect him to admit it though, you'll get only an eye roll out of him.

• But geuninely like there are situations where he has to reject like 5 people at once. 😭 You don't whether to be impressed or annoyed by it.

• Anyway.

• If Chirgiri isn't in class, you can find him in the library. Before you try to fight me, lemme remind it's in the egoist Bible so it's canon.

• He will binge read history novels honestly, and thinks in his free time how it could have been different and stuff. He thinks about the fall of the Roman Empire at least once a day.

• Won't ramble or blabble about it too much to you, but will share random titbits to you about, at the most random times.

• No seriously. At the most random times.

"Ugh trigonometry is the worst-"

"Christianity promotion must have resulted in loss of traditional values of Romans..."

"Huh?"

"You asked to study right?"

"YES. To study maths. Tommorow is the test!"

"...Oh."

• Also he's got a fair amount of complaints from teachers and other coordinators about his long hair. When they speak to him about it, he's judging then SO hard. He does it to almost everyone.

• If you blabble about your classmates stories, he will listen to it, asking questions actively. He actually is pretty interested in the gossipy stuff.

• Can I just rant about how much of a tease he is in denying you affection? Like don't get me wrong, of course Chigiri's gonna have some sort of physical contact like holding hands and stuff in front of other students.

• To show you guys are together and no he's not entertaining any confessions, that's what he tells you to just not get annoying interactions but you both know it's just not that lol

• But when you two do mange to get alone on campus, this guy is a cheeky little bastard. He intentionally leans a bit far than you, just to rile you up and make the first move.

"What? Why are you glaring at me, huh? I didn't do anything you know."

• By the way, this kind of situation doesn't really happen often. Only in school when alone. Still to this day you don't know why he gets like that during that specific time.

• You guessed it's maybe because he rarely can keep his hands off you in private, so this environment keeps him a but grounded and can act all cool. You saw right through it, but that's different story.

• Doesn't care what people think of him, rude, moody, arrogent hell even princess...because like whatever. But won't torelate any negetive comments about you.

• His demeanor doesn't change much, but his glare speaks for itself that the person currently should shut up if they know what's good for them.

• Because, despite all the ups and downs our princess truly loves you and will want the best for you. Amen.

~Mikage Reo~

• I'm guessing you already has a pretty good grasp at what to expect from him, huh?

• We all know, that while on the surface his school life is perfect with good grades, popularity, football...he gets really really bored there.

• But I think as his girlfriend, it's your job to not get him excited. And guess what? You're doing a great job at it!

• This guy is the type, that when in a relationship, you can talk on and on about golf most boring sport ever! and he will listen like it's the most interesting thing ever.

• So yeah... it's not really all that hard for ya to keep him busy lol. Others have a hard time to do so though.

• Though he gave up on studies since blue lock, he figured that it won't hurt to study a bit for a few months to keep up his reputation.

• And to impress you, but shh don't let him know I told ya. But yeah, when talking about studies he's more of a hard work type rather than being a natural. I'm looking at you, Nagi!

• Which is a blessing for you because you can literally just call him over whenever you wanna study. And like ACTUALLY study, he's the best at tutoring, teaching you everything patiently.

• I mean he was the best friend was Nagi. OF COURSE Reo gained a lot of patience from being around that baby.

• Still entertains the fan following he quickly gained at school I mean what did you expect? but not really too much like before.

• Kinda because of still having PTSD from blue lock. You know the the haunting feeling no matter what he does there are things he won't get. Yeah that's what he's afraid of deep down.

• And not just that, also because of you. He knows people can get a too overboard with the fangirling which might make you uncomfortable. So sweet! 😭

• Proudly shows you off as his, and damn he does get a bit of a smug look which is priceless to see. It's a good reminder for him that no matter what happens, you're always his side.

• Which suprisingly makes everyone immediately back off, because like it's just so evident that this guy is just too hooked up on you to even glance at their direction.

• Will actually bribe the school authorities to get you in his class, and will deny any accusations made against him by you about that matter you JUST asked him casually but y'know this guy is dramatic as hell.

• "Why would I do that? You think that I'm the kind of rich person to throw money away just to get my way?"

"I love you Reo but that's exactly what you are."

• Always has an arm around you, suprising you during lunch break, pulling your cheeks even in front of everyone...you're just that cute!

• Is the type to distract you during class, then giggle when you get called out by the teacher for not paying attention. :P

• Don't worry much though, Reo doesn't do it that often, he knows his limits, despite being tempted to do more just to have your attention and your adorable mad face.

• Damnit, you're still just too cute for him to resist having you with him. He truly is blessed.

~Nagi Seishiro~

• Okay so, I think this scenario can go two ways, depending on what time you ask him and what mood he is in.

• 1. Nagi would just say "It's such a hassle" and drop his head on your lap, not wanting to think much but will relent with a bit of convincing because again, he doesn't wanna use his brain much.

• 2. Would just say okay on your first attempt, not seeing any reason to refuse. As you can see, both of these scenarios end up getting him back in school for a few months.

• We all know he's the type to just sleep and play games in class and get scolded by the teacher because of it.

• Lord knows how this guy manages to top every single time because I don't.

• "Hey Seishiro what did you get?"

"..98.."

"I just can't believe it, how do you do it every single time?!"

"I don't believe it either." said the teacher unamused, arranging the papers.

• You also feel lowkey jealous because of it, like can study for hours and hours and still get less than him I don't know about you ma'am but I would have given up a long time ago on academics.

• However, it has it's merits as well. He doesn't study but hangs around you when you do in the library or his apartment and sometimes kind of helps you understand stuff.

• "God this question is so stupid."

"...Hm? It's so easy..."

"Oh really? Why don't you tell me how to do it?"

"... don't convert the tan A into sin A/cosA, because it won't get divided on the final step..."

"Wow it worked, thank you!"

"... don't mention it."

• If you can't find him during lunch, you can find him in teacher's cabin getting scolded or sleeping/playing games on the stairs.

• And in extreme cases, on the water tank of the rooftop how the hell did does he get there?? basically everywhere expect the classroom, eating his lunch, y'know like a normal person in lunch break.

• So it's your duty to drag him to have lunch so to make sure he doesn't die. No I'm not exaggerating, this guy can be starving to death but still be playing call of duty.

• This guy is shameless around you, and the worst part that you can't even say anything about it because it's not his intention to annoy you. He is just is build different.

• Like, he'd just lean over your shoulder as you drag him to class you still won't give him the piggyback ride. Poor boy not really regardless of people giving him and you judgemental stares.

• On the rare days when he's not sleeping in class, he's still not paying any attention to the teacher. Yeah all the teachers hate him.

• Instead his focus is all on you, observing how you are trying your best to pay attention to whatever the hell the teacher's trying to explain, suprisingly intrigued.

• He doesn't know why but, he's not bored while doing even though he's just looking at you . This guy is just attracted to you so damn much.

• And his smol energy level won't allow him to fight that attraction either. However Nagi doesn't dislike that fact. He loves the attraction and you, even if he didn't realise it yet.

A/n: I think the quality is dipped in this one, I kind of rushed it. I apologise for it. (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)

#blue lock #bllk #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #nagi seishiro #nagi x reader #chigiri x reader #chigiri hyoma #reo mikage #reo mikage x reader

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artyandink · 2 months ago

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whiskey, baby

SUMMARY: Dean’s no longer a demon, and in order to deal with the horrors of all that he’s said and done he retreated into his own shell. Drowning himself in whiskey and his own problems because that’s all there’s left to do. Then there’s you, his demon self’s esteemed fuck buddy, who comes up with a two step plan to feeling good, only for a little while. Step 1? Let you take the reins. Step 2? Sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride.

TW: MOC!Dean, angst, demon trauma, post demon!Dean, Reader’s not a stone cold bitch and actually worries about Dean in this but in her own weird way, Dean doesn’t hate her for an odd reason, smut

STW: switch!Dean, riding, oral (m + f receiving), temperature + whiskey play, lipstick play (does it count?), marking, switch!reader, thigh riding (brief), pussydrunk!Dean, fingering, face sitting, ass slapping, thigh slapping, slight overstimulation, ring kink implied, major praise kink, dirty talk, damage of clothes, vocal Dean, threat of exhibitionism

A/N: Yes, this is a sequel to lipstick, baby, and you guys can make the comparison between Dean as a demon during the smutty parts and Dean post demon and more aware. Hope you enjoy!

NOW PLAYING: RIVER - BISHOP BRIGGS

Dean felt kinda empty, staring at himself in the bathroom mirror. Being a demon didn’t suit him at all, and now that it was over he was left to deal with the reality of it all. The killing, punching people’s lights out, hurting Sammy, hurting in general— he hated it with every fibre of his fucking being.

“Fuck.” Dean growled under his breath, staring at himself in the mirror and finding he just couldn’t damn do it, looking away after barely five seconds because holy hell, he wanted to smash the mirror in just to please the Mark throbbing on the skin of his forearm. “Shut up, why don’t you, you… I don’t even know what you are.” He hissed at the Mark, but it didn’t shut up or stop pulsing.

The bunker door being banged on drew his attention away from his own flaws - thank God, if the bastard even existed - and prompted Dean to walk out of his bathroom, grunting an affirmation that yes, he was coming to whoever was behind the door.

When he wrenched it open with an expression that looked like the human equivalent of a ticked off chihuahua, he saw… you. Oh, fuck, oh, shit, you. The woman that he as a demon had incredible sexual escapades that may or may not have been the star of his dreams for weeks on end after the whole demon thing got cured. Pouring the whiskey on your body, you riding him till you both were spent— it felt almost lucid.

“You.” Dean murmured hoarsely, his throat feeling dry upon the sight of you and your gorgeous, sexy self. Today you were in denim shorts and fishnet tights - of course you were in something that made his senses go wild - with the same red plaid that was buttoned up this time, tucked in and the sleeves rolled to your elbows.

He kind of felt a little out of place. Out of place in his own home— that’s the kind of effect you had.

“Gee, how enthusiastic.” You drawled, leaning against the doorframe, brown paper bag clutched in one hand. “I really thought you’d be more inclined to see me, Dean, I’m partially offended.” You gave him a cheeky smirk, then grasped what was in the bag, showing him the neck of a bottle of Jack.

Oh. That changes things.

Dean’s lip twitched up at the sight, warming up to you like he would when drinking the good stuff. Then again, he knew that deep in that roughed up heart of his, he had a soft spot for you in particular. “That’s my girl.” He took the bottle, examining it with a chuckle as he let you inside, kicking the door shut behind him.

“So, Dean, how’ve you been?” You asked, following behind him, your boots clicking on the tile of the bunker’s floor. You looked around, pouting in approval at what you saw. Place was damn impressive. But you were also perceptive to Dean. The way he clutched that bottle like a vice, the slight tightness in his gait, the set of his brow. All subtle, but you’d had sex with this man enough times to know when something bothers him.

What? You were perceptive during sex too, you’re not only in it for the physical stuff. You’re not a monster.

However, Dean just shrugged, making a grumble of an ‘eh’, ambling with you towards his bedroom. “As good as a man can be, sweetheart. You?” Bullshit.

“I mean, how’ve you really been?” The question stopped him dead in his tracks, and he swallowed, eyes furtively glancing to you in a way that screamed ‘oh, shit’. But he didn’t say anything, just prompted him to trudge up to his bedroom, you following, rolling your eyes.

Dean Winchester was the sexiest man alive, but… my god, was he irritating sometimes.

“Three fingers, sweetheart?” Dean asked you as you stepped over the threshold to his bedroom, the guns and random trinkets he’d collected adorning the place as usual. His bed was messy, pillow and blanket askew, which he tried to sort out but only ended up messing it up further.

You smirked, winking as you closed the door behind you, kicking off your boots and moving to sit beside him on the bed, cross legged while he was propped on his hand, legs outstretched. “You know I can take it, handsome, don’t be shy.”

Dean couldn’t stop the visual from popping up in his head. Damn demon him for being so attracted to you. Then again, he couldn’t really say anything.

He poured you three fingers of whiskey in a glass and handed it to you with a soft grunt under his breath, his eyes flicking over you for the umpteenth time before pouring his own. “Here y’ go.”

“Cheers.” You smiled, clinking your glass with his before sipping some of it. “I know you better than you think, y’ know that? You’re struggling, even a blind man can see that one.”

Dean just grunted again, shaking his head. “M’ fine, darlin’. Don’t sweat it.”

“Don’t sweat it? Damn, you really are struggling.” You snorted, taking another sip of your whiskey. “C’mere, babe.”

Dean scooted closer, clearly not anticipating how your lips would ghost his jaw before pressing an open mouthed kiss to it, humming and sucking on the skin, making his breath hitch and eyelashes flutter against his cheeks. “Darlin’—”

“Shh.” You continued kissing down his stubble, drawing a quiet moan from him, not protesting as you plucked the whiskey from his hands and set it on the bedside table, guiding his hand to your hair.

Fuck. This is what he gets, for not having a woman’s touch in a while.

“Mm, baby.” Dean couldn’t help but groan, especially as your hands pulled off his flannel — wait, when did you unbutton that thing? — and tossed it aside, his back hitting the mattress, eyes hazy and hands flying to your soft thighs as you straddled him.

Not like he was roofied, he just felt so drunk. Not on whiskey, but on you, your lips, your gorgeous body.

Now he saw why his demon self liked you so much.

He exposed his neck to you, which earned a hum of approval from you, your hand cupping the side of it as your thumb brushed his pulse. “Attaboy.” You whispered, one hand smoothing back his hair (the whimper that left him was almost embarrassing). “Lemme take your mind off things.”

You returned the favour from the first time, grabbing the whiskey glass and pouring the contents on his chest, the cold compared with your warm body making Dean shiver.

His belt clattered to the floor.

Jeans went after.

And your tongue was on his chest.

Dean didn’t think he’d ever seen something filthier in his life, it rivalled the likes of Casa Erotica— your tongue flattening against the divots and ridges of his muscle as you collected the burn of the whiskey on your tongue, moving down and down, kissing his v-line, nuzzling his thighs.

“Don’t you stop, sweetheart.” Dean pleaded, voice strangled, hips bucking as your fingers hooked into the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down and freeing his cock, which was already needy for you.

Damn, the effect you had on him was ethereal.

You chuckled, licking from his base to his tip while your thumb spread his precome, his hips bucking into your hand with a needy whine. “Not gonna stop, don’t you worry.”

“Gonna taste you,” He panted, his skin glowing already with a thin layer of sweat as his hand twisted in your hair, “when this is done. Mark my words, pretty girl, gonna eat you dumb— son of a bitch.”

“Looking forward to it.” You murmured before you took him into your mouth, working him fast while grinding into the bed.

The sight of him with his head tossed back, eyes rolled and freckled cheeks flushed like that was incredibly hot, ok? Don’t blame a woman.

You pulled off him to suck at his tip, which had him fisting the sheets, eyebrows furrowed in bliss. “So good, handsome. Taste so good.” You murmured, which earned you a sinful whimper.

Praise kink. Noted.

Your signature scarlet lipstick smeared on him — good — and left your mark, sucking and licking until Dean came, spilling into your mouth, but you’re a trooper, so you swallowed the whole thing.

Before you could register, however, you were being yanked up the bed and Dean’s hands were undoing your shorts, shoving them down — ripping your panties — and taking your fishnets to your knees, hauling you onto his face and barely letting you register before his tongue fucked into your soaking pussy, your eyes rolling back like his did, moaning in sync as one hand shot to the headboard and the other his hair.

His hands were so fucking reverent, gliding up your thighs, kneading them, one moving to deliver a light smack and grope to your ass, moaning when you began to grind down onto his tongue because you just couldn’t help it.

And then his hand slid up your back, around to your front, unbuttoning your plaid so his fingers could pay extra attention to your nipples (you would obviously show up to his house braless, y’all out there’d understand) as one long, thick finger thrusted up into your pussy, ring pressing against your g-spot in a way that had his name tearing from your throat.

How was normal Dean better than demon Dean? Or Deanmon. Whatever, either way, he was fucking you right.

“What if Sammy comes back, huh?” Dean growled into your cunt, licking every inch of it while he pushed a second finger into you, then a third, stretching you out and sending vibrations and electricity through your body. “Gonna give him a show, sweetheart? Show him how much you fucking need me?”

He ripped an orgasm from you, drinking it up like he was parched before flipping you over, getting your plaid off and entering you in one clean stroke while his mouth enveloped your nipple, sucking and nibbling.

“Shit, Dean!” You cried out, the first coherent sentence you could make since you rode his face and even that meant don’t you dare stop. And if any other man threatened you with exhibitionism you’d probably slap him and leave.

But this was Dean Winchester, so you’d make a thousand exceptions as long as he fucked your legs out.

He marked your neck, pounding into you like he just couldn’t help it, entwining your hands and pinning them above your head. “F-Fuck, baby girl. So tight— shit. Could fuck this pretty pussy forever.” He rolled over, putting you on top, and you took the cue to ride him, moans in tandem as Dean reached down to rub your clit. “Ride me, baby, c’mon. Give it to me, need it all. Please, need all’a you.”

Well, how could you say no?

“So good,” You panted, which earned a whimpering moan from Dean. “Gonna give it all to you, promise.” You clenching around him and his cock’s ride brushing your g-spot and all of it reaching places you didn’t know you had sent you over the edge, and before you’d realised it, he’d come before you with a strangled grunt of your name, hands moving to your hips to help you through your high despite being in it himself.

Once you’d come down from your high, and he his, you pulled off him, collapsing on the bed next to him, both of you flushed red, panting and so damn satisfied.

“C’mere.” Dean rasped, holding a hand out to you, and you were confused. The hell is he doing? “C’mere, baby.” He looked positively wrecked — you most likely did too — but that didn’t distract you.

“Why?” You tilted your head, pushing sweaty strands out from your face.

“To cuddle, why else?” Wow, he was a secure man, saying it outright like that. “I wanna hold you, sweetheart.”

He didn’t hold you as a demon. Nobody had.

So you scooted up to him, laying your head on his chest and allowing his arm to rest around your waist, other one acting as a pillow underneath his head.

Dean felt upset that demon him hadn’t taken the courtesy to hold this gorgeous woman, but now’s not the time to address that.

“Thank you, gorgeous,” He kissed your hair, “I needed that.”

𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐤 / 𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲’𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐨

𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐝/𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝

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tootiecakes234 · 5 months ago

Text

Katsuki Preparing for the Proposal:

*if you want to read the Part 1 you can click here

“Can you for once just do what I ask you without questioning everything Pinky? I’m offering a spa day full paid and you’re acting like I’m holding you at gunpoint!” I said exasperated.

Ive been on the phone for 10 minutes for what should have been a 2 minute phone called. I’d called and told Mina that i would pay for y/n and her to have a spa day. Massages, nails, hair, the works. What i didn’t expect is for the this woman to put up a fight about it.

“ I’m just trying to make sure a villain hasn’t taken over your body and is impersonating you! But fine, twist my arm. I’ll take your card AND your girlfriend and go do some damage on your dime. I’m tired of going back and forth. What time should I be there to get her?” She asked cheerily now that she’d accepted to “gift” being offered to her.

“Around 11 in the morning. You guys can go get lunch or something. And again I say, big mouth, do not tell her that I’m apart of this. Do you understand?” I said in the most threatening tone possible.

“Sir yes sir.” She mocked at me. “I’ll text her to set up it up now. Oh and I hope whatever you’re planning goes accordingly to plan, Mr. Inconspicuous.”

The gurgle that came out of that my mouth had Mina laughing on the other end of the phone.

“Shut up idiot. I’m not planning anything. Bye!” And i quickly hung up the call.

Dammit. She’d better not know anything. Eijirou better not have run his mouth and Pinky sure as hell better not run her mouth. Putting faith in any of my shitty friends to keep a secret was like trying to sweep sand at the beach… hopeless.

I had no other way to guarantee that y/n would stay away from the house long enough for me to get everything set up.

I’d gone into my office and locked the door to call Mina just to make sure she didn’t overhear anything.

When I finally made it back to the bedroom, she was in bed on her phone and didn’t LOOK like she suspected anything so that’s as good as I could hope for right now.

“Mina just randomly texted me and said she wants to go to the spa tomorrow. Isn’t that weird? It’s 8 o’clock at night and I just saw her earlier and she didn’t mention anything about it.”

“Mina’s weird all the fucking time anyway so no more than usual I guess. You should go though…. I mean you’ve been saying that works been stressing you or whatever.” I know I’m a shit liar, but this insane technically lying, so I’m hoping she buys it.

Ever since I’d decided to propose to her, everything I say sounds like something rehearsed or scripted and it’s putting me on edge. I’m either gonna give this woman this ring or have a goddamn heart attack trying.

“Hmmmm, you’re right. She said she’s going to cover it so why not.” She texts back and then sets down her phone on the nightstand score she turns to me. “I have the best friends in the world, don’t I?”

“Yea… just fucking terrific” I said frowning

“Katsuki, baby, don’t be jealous. I’ll tell Eiji to get you guys a spa day for your birthday. It’ll be a cute little outing.” she says all cheeky.

“No way in hell. I’ve gotten massages with E before and that bastard groans and moans while he’s getting his. I’ll be damned if I suffer through that again.” That makes her giggle but I’m being completely serious.

She does that a lot, finds humor in my honesty. One of the reasons I can’t wait to marry her. She’s one the few that I can be myself with and never feel like I’m saying the wrong thing or being the wrong me…. Fuck.

“Hey, where are you right now? You’re looking at me but you are not in the same space?” And I feel her warm hand press up against my cheek.

“Nowhere, just thinking. I’m tired, long day. You ready to go to sleep?”

“Mhmm.” She leans and presses 3 quick kisses to my lips before she turns to turn off the lamp next to the bed.

The time she snuggles down into the sheets my arm is wrapping around her and pulling her back flush against my front.

“Goodnight princess”

“Night Kat-daddy”

The last thought before I drift to sleep is that hopefully by tomorrow night I’ll be sleeping next to my fiance instead of my girlfriend.

*ok, so I don’t like writing super long fics soooo this is going to end up being part 2 of 3 or 4. I haven’t decided. But I feel like all this filler is super cute and important because Katsuki is actually such a simp and such a nerd underneath all that attitude and I wanted to showcase that soooo please don’t be mad that this isn’t the actual proposal🥺

Katsuki Masterlist

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cuubism · 9 months ago

Text

physical therapy part 4

It takes some time, but finally, Dream's hand starts to feel better when he's painting. Granted, his grip strength still needs some work, and he's had to adjust the way he holds a brush to accommodate the lingering stiffness he gets in some of his fingers, but he's finding it hard to care when a few months ago he couldn't draw a straight line without it turning into a scribble. He'd known Hob was good at his job, but it still feels like a miracle.

The only downside is that once he makes enough progress Hob will surely decide to end their sessions. And while he had said that he liked Dream, that he cared about Dream... Dream is finding it hard to feel assured of those feelings. Someone's feelings can change on a dime, and it's impossible to predict.

But finally the day does come when Hob deems him progressed enough to simply continue his exercises at home. "At this point I think you've regained enough mobility that it's just a matter of gradually increasing how much you're using your hand," he says. "You've made a ton of progress."

"Have I?" Dream is less sure. Some things are certainly easier now, like doing tasks around the house, and picking things up. Art is another matter. Though perhaps he is simply making excuses because he doesn't want to stop seeing Hob.

"Yeah, look." Hob pulls out a folder from amongst his files, and shows Dream several sketches--the ones Dream's made in session, which he's apparently kept. Dream picks up the oldest sketch, the cats he'd doodled at his first appointment. They're shaky and uneven, like something he might have drawn when he was barely four. He supposes he can't deny the progress since then. He's torn between wanting to tear the drawing up, for it's too wretched a reminder--and wanting to hold it close to his chest.

"It's not that I think there's no more room for improvement, or anything," Hob says. "I just don't think continuing these frequent sessions is going to offer more than a marginal benefit."

Dream thinks that the benefit he is receiving at this point is more in being able to look forward to seeing Hob each week, than the physical therapy itself. He needs something to look forward to. He's put Hob's objectively terrible finger painting on his fridge. It's still the only spot of color in his empty flat. He needs that.

"So," Hob continues, "I thought I'd take you out to celebrate."

That pulls Dream from his head. "You... will?"

Hob winks at him. "Promised you, didn't I?"

Yes. Dream supposes he had promised that if Dream's feelings held true Hob would act on them. Is that what he's doing? Dream's growing disappointment swiftly morphs into something else. Hope.

"I--" he swallows hard. "I. Would like that." It's still strange, to have something he wants. And to feel like it may be okay to express it.

"Perfect." Hob grins, gets up, holds out a hand.

"Now?"

"You got somewhere else to be?"

Dream never has anywhere else to be, and doubts he would go there if he did. He takes Hob's hand.

Hob takes him to a Chinese restaurant nearby, and Dream looks at him suspiciously as Hob passes him a pair of chopsticks with a cheeky grin. "Now you are just testing me."

"Yup. 'Course if you can't use chopsticks in the first place then it's moot."

Dream can use chopsticks. Could. No, can. Death would say that he should think positively.

So he takes the chopsticks.

Once their food comes, Hob, the absolute bastard, puts down his own chopsticks and picks up a fork instead. And Dream knows, somehow he just knows, that it's not because he can't use them. He's teasing Dream. Or perhaps ensuring that Dream won't compare himself if he struggles. Or both.

He should feel hurt by the teasing but... somehow he's not.

"See?" Hob says when Dream manages to eat his noodles with the chopsticks. It's... not that hard. It doesn't even hurt. Maybe Hob is better at his job than Dream even thought.

It makes him tear up. Such a silly, small thing to start crying over when he's barely cried at all, even when he'd first hurt his hand.

"Hey, it's okay," Hob soothes him, wiping away Dream's tears with his thumb. "I think the noodles are salty enough without the addition of tears, hm?"

Dream laughs, wiping at his eyes when the tears keep falling. "Good tears," he manages to say.

"I know," Hob says, and smiles at him.

Dream surprises himself by having an actually nice time. He hasn't had a nice time doing something in so long. It feels good. He doesn't want it to end.

Of course, it does end, and he finds himself lingering outside the restaurant, hesitant to go home. Particularly as he no longer has a set time when he will see Hob. He feels aimless without that, but. It is hard to ask.

"Dream..." Hob starts, likewise lingering in front of the restaurant. The lights of the signage above cast his face in shades of violet. Dream has thought him handsome before, but never so much as now.

Hob hesitates over what to say, then finally just steps over to him. "Come here."

And before Dream can decide how to react, Hob folds him into a hug.

Dream goes still on instinct. Then, gradually, relaxes into Hob's strong hold. He... can't remember the last time someone hugged him.

He lets himself tuck his face into Hob's shoulder.

"Hey," Hob says. His voice is so close to Dream's ear now. "I'm proud of you."

Dream hears himself make a tiny whimpering sound. He. He does not know how to be proud of himself. He thinks he would only be proud of himself if he could go back in time and stop himself from getting in that terrible relationship to begin with. But he does like how it sounds when Hob says it.

Hob gives him one more squeeze, then, disappointingly, releases him. "I almost forgot. I have something for you."

He digs around in his bag and comes back with a box that looks rather like art supplies of some kind. "It's modelling clay," he explains. "So you can play around and work on your hand without just doing, you know, boring exercises all the time."

Hob is too considerate of him, truly. Dream holds the box close.

"You okay to get home?" Hob asks, and Dream nods. His ex has not bothered him again, and Dream is now hopeful that he won't. Though that does not necessarily mean he doesn't want Hob to follow him home.

"Good," Hob says. Then, while Dream is still thinking about the hug and the clay and everything else, Hob leans in and kisses his cheek. "Goodnight, Dream."

Dream stands paralyzed until Hob is gone, and it's only then that he realizes he failed to set another time for them to meet. He supposes he does have Hob's office contact info. Still, it is disappointing not to have something to look forward to.

But when he gets home, and opens the box of clay, he finds a note inside. It has the name of a coffee shop, and Tuesday, 3pm?, and Hob's personal number. At first he's confused. Why wouldn't Hob simply ask him while they were together? And then he realizes that Hob must be trying to give him a chance to comfortably back out if he wants to by letting him decide in private. It makes him want to cry again. Hob truly is too considerate of him.

But he takes out his phone and types in Hob's number, and a simple reply. Yes.

#a singular chapter in which dream has a good time!#physical therapy fic #dreamling #my writing #bit of a time jump bc i dont think i have it in me to write one billion physical therapy sessions XD like they gotta kiss sometime #long post

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mrsparrasblog · 8 months ago

Text

SAUNA SOAP🌞

You hated your job. Working in the SPA of a 5-star hotel was not as luxurious as people made it out to be. The therapist got tipped while you needed to do the infusions, clean around the mess the guests left, deal with touchy customers, and worst of all, tell guests all over again that they can't fuck in the sauna, pool, or whatever. Well, at least you got paid 1pound above the minimum wage.

So you spent another day standing at the front desk of the SPA and trying to look useful. Nothing ordinary happened until a handsome Adonis walked into the spa. Fuck, he came up the elevator wearing only a towel around his hips, not hiding his perfect sculpted abs; he looked like an Adonis; his biceps was probably bigger than your head; and you looked up to see his beautiful face. His face had some badass scars, wrinkles, and the most gorgeous set of eyes you ever saw in your life.

"Good morning, sir. How can I help you today?" you said, trying to hide your enormous blush from him. You were used to naked people in front of you, but this man was different; he made your legs press together behind the corner, like a horney slut.

"Awright bonny, a'm 'ere fur th' sauna cuid ye shaw me th' wey" You hated yourself for not understanding him, but his voice was already the cause of your wet dreams for the next few months.

"I'm not called Bonny" was the only response you could gather to say and point to your nametag.

He chuckled, "Sorry, lass, I'm used to people understanding my accent. Could you show me the way to the sauna, please?"

"Of course, sir, please follow me." You walked out behind your reception, guiding him the way through the almost empty SPA.

"No need to call me, sir; I'm not much older than you," he said, throwing you a cheeky smile.

"We're here" He went into the sauna and thanked you. And you hated yourself for not being able to flirt with this man. This was a one-time chance to meet a man who was able to be on the new season of the bachelor of your county, and you failed.

After a few hours, you prepared an infusion smelling like amber and peppermint, so you went to the sauna. To your disappointment, your new customer crush wasn't there. You started with your usual show, throwing towels around and then leaving the sauna. Leaning against a wall, panting after being in the 90-degree sauna.

And there it was again, a man approaching you without a towel wrapped around his hips as if it weren't common courtesy to hide your own, oh god, erect cock. You tried your hardest to look into his eyes, but that ugly dick of his was like a car accident earthquake and a fire at the same time.

"If it's too hot for you, I wouldn't mind seeing you less clothed; you must be sweating in this tight and long uniform," he said, tucking your hair behind your ears.

You were more than disgusted by this behavior, but it was nothing new for you. "Sir, I feel uncomfortable with this situation."

"Come on, little bird, you girls take these things so seriously. I was just flirting a bit."

"And I want you to stop flirting," you said, sounding confident and not showing an ounce of your fear. You knew there wasn't much staff around anymore.

"Come on, Birdy, I paid so much for my stay; there should be something in it for me." He started to put his hand on your hips, pulling you closer to him. You were so ready to fight him off, but before your knee could make contact with his crotch, the Adonis men was behind you, towering over you.

"She said no, you better leave now or I'll help you leave bastard." You fell behind in his massive frame after the man pulled away from your hip.

"Sorry, mate," he said, walking out of the spa to his hotel room with a hint of embarrassment. Asshole was afraid of Adonis.

You turned around to face him, blushing at how close you were. "Thank you, sir."

"No problem, lass, call me Johnny, not this Sir nonsense," he smirked at you, and you felt like you melted on the ground immediately.

"Okay, thank you, Johnny. You can have a drink on the house; just grab something from the bar." This would be the least you could do.

"When urr ye off, a'm waantin' tae keep edgy fur ye nae that that bastard comes back." You felt the butterflies in your stomach when he said he wanted to protect you.

"Johnny I'm a big girl; you don't need to ruin your vacation by looking out for a stranger."

"Beautiful stranger." You blushed at his compliment and thanked him. You worked for the next three hours and then started to clean everything so you could close. When you locked the door, only you and Johnny were there. You approached him, but he still sat in the sauna. His marvelous body was glistering with sweat, just like his weird but funny hair. You noticed how he sat there with his legs wide open without a towel, so you had a perfect view of his manhood.

"Aye, sorry, I didn't notice ye" he said, hiding his manhood from you.

"Don't worry, I see them every day."

"Och, ye dinnae ken how tae flatter a lad," he said, acting fake hurt, which gifted him a slight chuckle from you. "Ye kin at least admit a'm a het lad."

"You're a hot lad, Johnny. Happy?" Your eyes wandered down his abs.

"Take a picture; it lasts longer."

"Uhm, sorry, I just think you're very handsome. I like your biceps."

"Do you want to touch it, hen?"

You nodded, slightly embarrassed; this is still your workplace after all.

Johnny's breath hitched slightly as you touched him, his muscles tensing. "Feel that, sweetheart? That's pure Scottish strength. It's also quite sensitive... If you know how to handle it properly."

"You work out a lot?" You asked already knowing the answer.

Smirking, Johnny leaned in close, whispering in your ear. His stubbles touched your neck as he did this.

"Aye, lassie. I work out every chance I get. And believe me, it's more than just to maintain my looks." Soap grinned, flexing his bicep slightly for you. "Feel that again, lass. You can't deny the pure muscle you're touching. And don't even get me started on these abs. I've been told they're quite impressive." He was pretty arrogant, but you couldn't deny that he was allowed to be arrogant after looking like this.

"They are. I'm sorry I'm acting unprofessional." You remembered your minimum wage job.

Johnny chuckled, shaking his head slightly. "Oh, don't apologize, hen. Unprofessional behavior can be quite endearing. Besides, I'm not one to judge." He leaned in close, his voice barely above a whisper.

As your gaze dropped lower to his prominent V line and his thick happy trail, Soap caught the subtle hint of curiosity in your eyes. Leaning back slightly, he ran his free hand teasingly over his toned abs before continuing. "You seem quite interested in this area, don't ya?"

You blushed immediately. "I'm so sorry."

Johnny chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Sorry for what? For being a horny wee lassie? There's nothing wrong with that." He reached down, his fingers tracing the outline of his hardened member through his towel. "See this?"

"Oh, Johnny," it was thicker than anything you had in your life and will have.

With a devilish grin, Soap pressed his thick shaft against your stomach, causing you to gasp. "Want a taste?" he asked softly.

"I work in this Spa and you are a customer Johnny I can't just blow you in the Sauna"

Johnny chuckled again, pulling his cock back from you. "Didn't say you had to blow me?" he replied with a wink. "Though I wouldn't mind that." You couldn't stop laughing at his comment.

Soap smirked at your laughter, taking it as a good sign. "Listen, hen," he started, his voice now low and rough with desire. "I've had my fair share of women throwing themselves at me, but you're not throwing yourself at me. You subtle, I like that, and I never had sex in a sauna, and you're one hell of a looker, the most beautiful girl I've seen in ages."

"I never had sex in a sauna too."

"So" He unwrapped the towel around his waist, making sure you got a good look at his hard cock pointing at you. "How about we fuck in the sauna?"

"That's pretty forward, Johnny."

He chuckled warmly at your comment. "Aye, lass, I'm forward when I want something," he replied confidently, taking a step closer to you. "And I really want this."

As you watched in anticipation, Soap slowly unbuttoned your uniform, revealing more of your delectable body with each button that flew open. His eyes roamed hungrily over your curves, taking in every detail. "Yer sae bonny"

Once your pants were off, Soap gently pushed you onto the bench in the sauna, his eyes locked onto your clothed sex. He took one of his thick fingers and started to circle your clit with it. You couldn't help but moan; he was doing it better than any man before. He didn't treat you like a scratcher; he knew what he did, which made you feel insecure. Of course, men like him would have more experience than you do.

"You look and sound like an angel; can I—my little man can't wait any longer?" You laughed at his words and just nodded.

He positioned himself between your legs, rubbing the head of his cock against your entrance before slowly pushing inside.

"God, that's fast." You whined as he split you in half with his thick cock.

Johnny grunted in pleasure as he felt you tighten around him. "Fuck, lass," he groaned, starting to thrust slowly inside of you. His hands found their way to your tits, squeezing them roughly as he took his time fucking you.

Johnny picked up the pace, slamming his hips against yours as he fucked you hard in the sauna. The sound of your flesh slapping together filled the small room, echoing off the walls.

His cock throbbed inside of you, reaching deeper with each thrust. Your body glistened with sweat in the hot sauna. Johnny growled low in his throat, his face contorting with pleasure as he continued to pound into you. Sweat dripped from his body onto yours.

"Fuck, you're so tight." You scratched his back, gripping hard on his biceps. You needed to hold back and not cum too fast so you couldn't embarrass yourself in front of him.

Johnny hissed in pleasure at the scratches down his back, leaning into the bite and scratch marks on his neck as he felt you grip his biceps. His hips picked up speed, slamming harder into you as he reached around to pinch and twist your nipples.

Feeling you close to orgasm, Johnny moved a hand between your legs, rubbing your clit firmly as he continued to pound into you. His fingers circled your swollen bud, teasing it until you cried out incoherently. "Johnny"

Johnny groaned, feeling himself getting closer as well. He picked up the pace even more, slamming into you harder as he leaned forward to capture one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking and biting gently.

He growled low in his throat as you wrapped your legs around him, taking him deeper inside of you. He moaned into your skin, his teeth grazing lightly as he nipped at your other nipple. "Fuck," he panted, "I'm going to cum."

"Mhm, you can cum inside; I'm on the pill." It was foolish of you to let a stranger cum inside of you, but you were too fucked out to properly think.

Hearing your enthusiastic agreement, Johnny let out a groan of relief as he felt his climax building. With one last hard thrust, he erupted inside of you, his cock pulsing as he shot his hot cum deep inside your wet cunt.

Johnny panted, his heart racing, as he leaned down to kiss your full lips. "That," he whispered against your lips, "was fucking incredible." He pulled out of you slowly, his still-hard cock slipping out of your pussy with a wet pop.

"I usually don't do things like this with strangers, I swear." This was your first nightstand and even in your workplace. What must he think of you?

"Well, I'm glad you made an exception for me." Johnny grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. He reached down to stroke his cock a few times, getting it slick with his own precum before pressing the head against your entrance again. "Ready for round two?" This man must be joking, right?

"Another one?"

"You bet your sweet ass I am," Johnny growled, pushing his thick cock back inside of you in one swift motion. He slid in completely this time, his hips meeting yours as he began to thrust into you again, harder and faster than before.

You needed to regain power so you wouldn't come immediately "Mhm, fuck, let me be on top."

"You got it," Johnny grunted, pulling out of you so that you could mount him. He helped guide your hips as you positioned yourself on top of him, his hands sliding down to grab your ass and pull you closer.

You bounced on his dick with so much passion and enthusiasm as he had never seen in a woman; you were so eager to please him and so eager to sleep with him. You weren't like this usual starfish woman; you were perfect.

Johnny moaned, loving the feeling of your wet pussy slamming against his cock as you rode him with all your might. His hands gripped your hips tightly, guiding your movements as he watched you in awe. "Fuck me, woman. "Yeah, I'm definitely feeling that." Johnny groaned out, his body arching off the ground as you continued to ride him. He reached up to grab one of your tits, squeezing it gently before rolling the nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

"A Boob Guy, huh?"

"Well, I'm a man," Johnny chuckled, running his free hand down your back to your ass before squeezing it. "And I definitely appreciate a nice pair of tits." He nipped at your earlobe before biting gently, making you moan loudly. With every movement of your hips, his veiny cock hit your Gspot perfectly, making you whine and moan in pleasure.

"Johnny, I'm close."

He growled, "Come for me then, lass." He held onto your hips, his cock throbbing inside you as he felt you getting closer. Just as you started to tense up, he thrust up into you hard, feeling your pussy clenching around him, milking him as you came undone.

He continued to thrust into you until he couldn't hold back any longer, his cock erupting inside of you with his hot and sticky cum.

Johnny leaned his forehead against yours, his breathing ragged as he held you close. "One hell of a fuck, wasn't it?" he asked with a smirk.

"Yes," you stated monotonously. You screwed up your chance of dating this guy by simply fucking him the first time you saw him.

Johnny chuckled softly before kissing your neck, nibbling gently. "Now then, what's got you all wound up?" He asked curiously, running his hands down your back and ass.

"Was this a one-night thing, or could I get your number? Oh god, it's embarrassing. I never had sex with a random man, and now I'm asking for your number. I'm stupid." You started to ramble while looking into his beautiful eyes.

Johnny smiled at you, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "A one-night thing? Hardly." He said it teasingly, tracing a finger down your cheek. "I'm not the kind of man who gives up so easily once he has a taste."

"So?"

"So, how about we exchange numbers?" Johnny suggested with a grin. "I mean, unless you're afraid, I might call you at all hours of the night."

"I'll give you my number."

He raised an eyebrow in surprise but quickly took out his phone to enter your number. "Alright then, pretty girl." He said, pressing the buttons on his phone. "You've got mine too. Don't forget it." He gave you some sloppy kisses and helped you put on your clothes again.

Before he left, you screamed to him. "Call me."

"I will," he assured you with a wink, and he left the spa on his way to his hotel room.

A moment later, your phone rang, and you answered. "Hello?"

"I promised to call you, Mo leannan

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persephonewritessometimes · 2 years ago

Note

Aaron Hotchner x bau!reader

Where after months ( cuz shes new n young working there)they cant také anymore their attraction to each other.

Key sentences: Hotch: I’m old enough to be your father. R: Should I call you Daddy then?

Smut n fluff

Please

Author's Note: oooo thank you for this request anon!! thinking many thoughts, head very full

Summary: It's no secret that you have a thing for your boss - a man 25 years your senior. What happens when he reveals he has feelings for you too?

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x (AFAB) Reader

Word Count: 5108 (i got carried away hehe)

Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!! UNDER 18? PLEASE KEEP SCROLLING! SMUT; DADDY KINK; SIR KINK; OVERSTIMULATION; MULTIPLE ORGASMS; UNPROTECTED P IN V (don't be like them y'all, stay safe); DOM!HOTCH, SUB!READER; READER IS HORNY; FINGERING; ORAL (F RECEIVING) reader gets distracted by Hotch's hands, pining, confession of feelings, reader blacks out from cumming really hard; Hotch calls reader "good girl, princess, baby"; Morgan is a cheeky bastard (as per usual)

This work is meant for readers aged 18 and over. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

“Y/N, you're staring, again," Morgan says with a chuckle and I quickly find somewhere else to look that isn't our section chief. Which I was definitely not having rated-R thoughts about.

"Shut up, Morgan," I mutter.

"Why don't you just tell him how you feel?" I turn and stare at him now, eyes wide in disbelief.

"Sure, why don't I just tell a much older man that every time I look at him, I feel weak in the knees and sweaty? That would really go over well." I say, sarcastically.

"We're getting tired of watching you eye-fuck him, Y/N." Emily sighs, jumping into the conversation.

"It's getting kind of pathetic at this point," Morgan adds and I smack him on the shoulder.

"You guys are being mean. Let me pine in peace."

"Y/N, none of us are at peace when you start acting like a dog in heat every time Hotch walks in the room. It's genuinely hard to watch." Morgan shoots back, grinning at me. I feel my cheeks grow hot at his brazen comment. "Just put us out of our misery and get laid for once, damn." I feel my cheeks growing even hotter.

"He - he doesn't like me like that." I'm tripping over my words, embarrassed that everyone can see what's clearly written by my body language when Hotch is around.

"Y/N, sweetie, you're smart, but sometimes you're an idiot," Emily says kindly. "He likes you."

"Trust us, we know," Morgan adds.

"How?" I say and cross my arms over my chest.

"Really? Okay. Whenever he's giving a briefing and you're standing next to him, his body gravitates towards yours, you're the first person he looks for in every room, Y/N, two weeks ago on that case in Charleston he almost throttled the officer that merely tried to flirt with you."

"Wait, that officer was flirting with me?" I've only been here a few months, so I haven't learned how to read people as well as him yet.

"Oh my god, she actually is an idiot." Morgan groans. "Yes! He always got you coffee refills without asking, offered you the first pick of the donuts, and gave you, and only you, a very thorough tour of the precinct. He was trying to impress you." He looks at me closely. "How the fuck did you get this job?" I shrug.

"Impeccable academic record?" I suggest timidly, and he snorts.

"Just pay attention to Hotch. More than you are already. You'll see."

"He's old enough to be my dad," I say.

"Why do I have the feeling that only fuels your fantasies?" Morgan mutters. "I'm done with this conversation. Either you tell him, Y/N, or I will."

"MORGAN!" He just throws his hands up in the air giving me an exasperated look. "Em? A little back up here?"

"As much as I hate to agree with Morgan, he has a point. It’s kind of hard to focus on work when we all know what’s going on except for you two. I mean this in the nicest way possible, but just say something, for the sake of everyone who has to be in a room with you guys. I could cut the tension between you two like a knife.” She gives me a small smile.

“I- I’m just nervous. What if you guys are wrong?” She places her hand over mine.

“We’re not wrong, Y/N. We even asked Reid to weigh in and he agrees with us. Just say something.” I frown and head back to my desk, needing to be alone with my thoughts for a while. I’m deep in a stack of paperwork when Hotch calls the team into a meeting. I sigh, set my pen aside, and make my way into the boardroom. I’m on high alert, due to Morgan’s comment, and as I step into the room, I glance at Hotch to find him already looking at me. He looks away quickly and I watch as the tips of his ears turn pink. Oh my god, they were right.

I’m hyper-aware of him the whole meeting, so much so that I barely heard a word he was saying.

“Y/N? Are you paying attention?” Hotch asks, looking at me.

“Uh, yes, sir.” I blurt out in a panic. I wasn’t expecting him to directly address me.

“YES SIR?” Morgan hollers. “That’s a new one.” Even Em is hiding a smile behind her hand. Hotch glares at him.

“Don’t tease her, Morgan. Y/N, please pay attention.”

“I will, sorry Hotch.” He just nods and goes back to what he was saying. I tried to pay attention I really did but I found myself watching his hands as he talked. He gestures at the screen, then to something in the paper he had given us, then puts his hand on his hip. His fingers are so thick I wonder if two would even fit inside of me. I’m thinking about him fingering me on his desk, pussy splayed and dripping for him, and I shift in my seat, feeling the wetness in my panties. Dammit, Y/N, don’t get carried away.

“Y/N, seriously,” Hotch sighs a few minutes later and I’m dragged from my dirty daydream. “I need you to pay attention or leave. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me today.”

“I’ve got an idea,” Morgan whispers with a grin. I glare at him.

“I’m trying to pay attention, I swear.”

“Are you sick? You look a bit warm, why don’t you step out for a few minutes.” I just nod, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes. “And I want to see you in my office when we’re done with this meeting.” I nod again and feel my stomach drop to my ass in nervousness. I quickly walk out of the room and am pacing when the door opens up and Morgan walks out, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“What the hell were you thinking about in there?” He whispers, then pauses, “Actually, I’m not sure I want to know.”

“Just leave me alone, Morgan. I’m embarrassed enough already.” I say quietly.

“Oh, baby girl, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to tease you too much. You’re just an easy target. If it helps any, Hotch was downright flushed after you left. He stumbled over his words. Twice. I’ve never seen him that flustered. It’s like he knew what you were thinking about.” He nudges me with his shoulder. “Don’t sweat it, okay?”

“You’re not the one who has to face him in his office,” I grumble.

“Well, just make sure you guys close the blinds.”

“MORGAN! Shut up!” He’s laughing as he walks away. JJ and Em shoot me sympathetic smiles as they walk by and Reid pats me on the shoulder. Hotch doesn’t say a word as he walks out of the boardroom, and I diligently follow him to his office.

“Take a seat.” He says, gesturing at the chair and my eyes follow his hand again. Y/N! Stop! That’s what got you in trouble in the first place! I quickly take a seat, clasping my hands in my lap. “Now do you want to tell me why you were so distracted today?” He asks, looking at me. I feel the heat creep up my chest and onto my cheeks.

“I-um-no. No, I don’t.” He raises an eyebrow at that.

“Really? Because Morgan seems to have an idea. Maybe I should go ask him what he thinks.”

“No!” I blurt out. “Sorry. It’s just…embarrassing.” He just looks at me and I sigh before whispering, “Your hands. I was distracted by your hands.”

“My…hands?” He says slowly.

“Yes, sir, I mean Hotch, sorry. I know it’s not appropriate and I apologize.”

“What is it about my hands?” He asks, his voice low and in a tone that makes my heartbeat travel down to my pussy. I shift in my seat, a movement that most likely does not go unnoticed by him. “Y/N. Look at me.” I take a shaky breath and look up at him, all rational thoughts leaving my head when I see that his cheeks are pink, and his pupils are so blown I can barely see the brown. “What is it. About my hands.” He enunciates every word.

“They’re big,” I whisper.

“And what does that make you think about?”

“Please don’t make me say it.”

“No, no I want to hear you say it.”

In the smallest voice possible I say, “I was wondering if your fingers would even fit in me.” I hear him take in a sharp breath. “What it would feel like to be spread out on your desk with - with your fingers inside of me.”

“Careful, Y/N, you’re walking a thin line.” He murmurs.

“Haven’t I crossed it already, sir?”

“I’m old enough to be your father.” He says, words clipped. I get a sudden burst of confidence and stare him down.

“Should I call you Daddy, then?” I ask sweetly. I watch as he tightens his jaw.

“Watch your mouth, little girl. You don’t want to see how mean Daddy can get.”

“And what if I want to find out, Daddy?” I watch as his nostrils flare and he takes a deep breath.

“That’s enough, Y/N.” He spits out and I still, and fear that I’m about to lose my job to ill-timed arousal. My breath hitches as he leans back in his chair, eyes carefully watching me. “What am I gonna do with you?”

“Whatever you’d like to, sir,” I say simply and I watch his jaw tick again.

“Listen to me very carefully. We are going to go downstairs, you are going to gather your things, and you are not going to say a single word. I’m going to tell everyone that you’re not feeling well enough to drive, so I’m taking you home.” I swallow hard, not believing that this is actually happening right now. “Do you understand?” I nod quickly. “I need to hear you say you understand. Or else this stops now, and we don’t speak of it again.”

“I understand completely, sir.”

“Good girl.” He says in a low voice and a whimper escapes me before I can shove it down. He stiffens. “Do you like that? Hearing that you’re a good girl?” My pussy clenches around nothing, begging to be filled.

“Yes, Daddy.” He hums, getting up quickly and my mouth goes dry when I see the tented fabric of his pants. He shrugs off his suit jacket and slings it over his forearm and in front of his body, effectively hiding his raging boner. He walks over to me, and I hastily get up from the chair, and he grabs my arm, gripping it just hard enough to keep me grounded and lucid despite the lust-filled thoughts in my head. He yanks open his office door and we make our way down the stairs. I keep my head down as we approach my desk, the bullpen so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

“Y/N isn’t feeling well. I’m driving her home.” Hotch says, letting go of my arm so I can grab my jacket and purse. I glance at him, nodding that I have everything, and he grabs my arm again, and we hastily walk towards the elevator.

“GO EASY ON HER, HOTCH!” Morgan shouts, and I hear Em laugh.

“Shut up, Morgan.” Hotch growls over his shoulder, and I glance back at Morgan, who mouths ‘Good luck’ at me. “Don’t look at him. The only person you should be looking at is me, princess.” We get in the elevator, and he pushes the button so hard I think that he’s going to break the damn thing.

“Jesus, what’s got you so riled up?” I say sweetly, not caring that I’d probably pay for that question later. I just want to see him snap, lose that carefully cultivated control and unleash himself on me. He turns on me in a second, caging my body between the wall of the elevator and the hard planes of his body. He grabs my chin, tilting my face up to look at him.

“Watch yourself. I’d hate for you to get into something you can’t handle.”

“I can take whatever you throw at me, sir.” He laughs.

“Yeah, right, princess. Keep talking a big game – we’ll see how far that gets you.”

“Well, it got me here, didn’t it?”

“Right where you wanted, I presume?” He asks, tilting his head and there’s nothing friendly in his eyes. I just nod, sucking in a breath when he pushes his body closer to mine and his hard-on is pressing into my thigh. “Before this goes further: green for go, yellow for slow down, red for hard stop, no questions asked. Do you understand?” I nod, and he raises his eyebrows.

“I understand!” I blurt out.

“Good.” He suddenly dips his head down, nose bumping into mine as we share the same breaths for a few seconds. “I’m going to ruin you.” He whispers onto my lips, not quite kissing me.

“Please. Ruin me, Daddy,” I whisper and he’s kissing me as soon as the last word is out of my mouth. It’s overwhelming, the way he kisses, stealing all the air from my lungs in a millisecond. I gasp when the hand from my chin drops to my chest, reaching into my dress shirt and under my tank top to tweak my right nipple. He takes that opportunity to slip his tongue into my mouth, tasting me. The elevator dings and his hand disappears from my shirt and his lips retreat. I whine at the sudden loss of contact, as we had just gone from 100 miles an hour to 0 miles an hour.

“I know, princess, I’m sorry. You don’t want Daddy to get caught, do you?” I shake my head vigorously and he chuckles, escorting me to his car, and opens the passenger door for me, ever the gentleman. He gets in and starts the car as I buckle my seatbelt. He backs out of the parking spot, placing one hand on the back of my headrest and I suck in a sharp breath. He glances at me. “Really? You’re turned on by my driving?”

“I can’t help it. I’m sorry.” I breathe out, not daring to look at him. My cheeks are warm, and I feel frazzled. I jump when his hand comes to rest on my thigh, dangerously close to where I want him. I shift my hips, trying to get him closer to where I need him. He smacks my thigh abruptly.

“Don’t do that. You can wait.” He says gruffly.

“I can’t. I can’t wait.” I gasp out. “Please. Please touch me. I need you. Please, sir, I’ll do anything.”

“I’ll oblige you, but only because you begged so prettily. I like it when you sound desperate. One rule though: no cumming without my permission.” His hand slips under my skirt and I thank god that this was one of the rare days I decided to wear one. His fingers ghost over my cunt, the lightest touch and my breathing is already starting to labor. When his fingers press my clit from outside my panties my hips buck into the air. “Someone’s responsive.” He says, more to himself than me. His fingers trail lower, and he groans when he feels the wet spot. “Already this wet for me, princess?”

“Only for you, Daddy.” I whimper when he pushes my panties to the side, hand now free to touch as he pleases. His fingers come up to tease my clit again before one deftly slips inside of me. I let out a choked sound, tight around him. Just one finger feels thick, and when he slips in another finger I keen, tightening again.

“Jesus, you’re tight.” He curls his fingers and hits that spot inside of me that I struggle to hit by myself. I gasp, hand closing around his wrist, and I don’t know if I’m trying to stop him or egg him on. He continues to work his fingers in me as he drives and I’m not sure how he’s managing to stay on the road. I know I should reciprocate but the feeling of his fingers plunging in and out of me has made every thought I’ve ever had flee my brain. After a few minutes, my thighs start to shake and I’m panting, so close to a mind-blowing orgasm that I forget he told me I can’t cum without his permission. His fingers slip out of me seconds before I hit my peak.

“NO!” I shout, shaking in the passenger seat, sitting in a small puddle of my own arousal. I hope it stains his impeccable leather seats.

“Only good girls get to cum, and you haven’t been a good girl today, baby,” He says, “Open.” I open my mouth and he slips the fingers he just had inside of me into my awaiting mouth. I suck his fingers off earnestly, just like I would to his cock if he gave me the chance. He pulls his fingers out with a pop and I realize he’s parked the car in his garage. Is this really happening? I think to myself. “Color?” He asks me, turning my face so I can look into his eyes. I could get lost in his eyes.

“Green,” I say quickly.

“Good girl,” He whispers and meets my mouth in a messy kiss full of tongue, need, and teeth.

I don’t know how we made it inside, but as soon as I cross through the doorway, Hotch throws me over his shoulder, and I shriek. He carries me to the bedroom, dropping me on the bed. I’m paralyzed as I watch him rip his tie off, dress shirt following soon after. He’s beautiful, and I want to run my hands all over him and feel every scar. My eyes are tracing his chest and ever the profiler, he notices.

“You can touch. It’s okay.” He walks over to me, planting himself between my legs. I timidly touch his stomach, trailing my hands up his abdomen, running my fingers along his scars in quiet admiration. He suddenly takes my hand, kissing it, a break in the dominant façade. I give him a soft smile, one that has always been reserved for him, and his breath hitches in his chest. His hands cup my face, looking into my eyes, and I’ve never felt safer than I have at this moment. I close my eyes, leaning into his touch, my hands resting on his wrists. It feels like we’re the only people in the world, two souls destined to collide. His next kiss is gentle as if he doesn’t want to ruin the moment, but he tosses his resolve out the window when I bite his bottom lip. He growls, pushing me onto my back and stepping out of his pants and boxers. I push myself up on my elbows to watch him and gasp when he’s revealed to me completely. He’s big. Bigger than I’ve had before. I knew it would be big because of his damn hands. “You’re far too dressed for my liking.” He mutters, and the next moment he actually rips my shirt off of me, buttons flying everywhere.

“HOTCH!” He stops, looking at me.

“Try again, sweetheart.”

“Sorry. Daddy.”

“Much better. And Daddy will buy you a new one, okay?” I nod, suddenly unable to think as he slides off my tank top and unclasps my bra. My nipples are aching to be touched and as if he can read my mind, his head dips down to take my left nipple in his mouth. I suck in a breath, my hand coming to rest on the back of his head. His tongue laves over my nipple, and I swear I see God for a moment. He moves to the other side and my cunt is begging for attention. He slides my skirt and panties off without once leaving my chest. And when I’m naked before him, he kisses his way up my throat, leaving hickeys that will definitely be hard to hide.

“Daddy, people will see.”

“And? They should know whom you belong to.” He says plainly, he leans back, admiring my form and my hips jump up on their own accord, grazing his weeping tip in the process.

“Fuck, princess, don’t do that.”

“Please, please, please, Daddy, I need you so bad.”

“Daddy has to make sure you’re ready for him. I don’t know if my fat cock will fit in your tight little pussy.” I whimper at his words, more turned on than I’ve ever been in my entire life. He slides down my body, pressing kisses into my skin as he goes until he gets on his knees, dragging me towards the edge of the bed. He slings both of my legs over his shoulder, pressing a chaste kiss into my thigh. “Your pussy is dripping for me, princess. Can I taste it?”

“Please,” I manage to whisper, and I watch as his head dips down and he licks up my pussy. He groans against my clit when he tastes me, and I shout in surprise at the added stimulation. He chuckles against me and goes to work, tongue thrusting shallowly in me before coming up to tease my clit. He’s getting me closer to the edge and when I feel two of his fingers slide into me easily, I sigh contentedly. He finds the spongy spot inside of me with ease, hitting it every time he thrusts his fingers into me. I’m hurtling towards my peak when I gasp out, “Daddy, please, I’m close, can I cum? Please? I’ll be a good girl, I promise. Your good girl.” His eyes flick up and he watches me, never stopping, and watches as my abdomen tenses and I start to clench around his fingers, panting. He pulls his mouth away from me just long enough to whisper,

“You can let go, princess.” And resumes his torturous pace on me. My hand shoots down to grip his hair and a few seconds later my orgasm rips through me. I shout loudly, hips moving with abandon against his face, and he doesn’t let up, continuing to lick and finger me through it until I’m twitching with overstimulation.

“Daddy, please, too much.”

“You wanted to cum, princess, so you’re going to cum until I’m done.” He growls and goes back to eating me out. I had no time to come down from my first orgasm and my body is already sprinting full speed ahead toward my second. My thighs clench around his face but it doesn’t stop him. He stills his fingers inside me and simply presses them into my G-spot, never letting up, just putting constant pressure on it.

I’m babbling at this point, nothing coherent coming from my lips except for ‘daddy’ and ‘please’. My orgasm blindsides me and I clench hard around his fingers and scream, not caring if anyone can hear me. My vision goes spotty as I continue to cum until he finally slips his fingers out and I feel like I can breathe again. I’m gasping for air as his touch trails along my hips.

“Still with me, pretty girl?” I nod still gasping. “Color?”

“Green, green, green.” I pant out quickly and he chuckles. He gives me a few more seconds to come down, tracing gentle patterns into my sides and he kisses me once my breathing slows. I pull away to bite my way down his neck, leaving my own marks on him. “Daddy, need you inside me, please.”

“Are you sure you’re ready for me, princess?”

“Yes! Yes! So ready! Please just fuck me!”

“Okay, let me grab a condom.”

“No!” I shout, grabbing his shoulders. “I’m clean. Please, I want to feel you. Just you.”

“You’re going to be the death of me, you know that?” He says, kissing the tip of my nose. I watch as he pumps himself a few times and lines up with my entrance. He pushes in, just barely, and stays there until I’m begging him to push the rest of the way in.

“Please, Daddy, I want to feel full. I feel so empty.” He sheathes himself in me in one quick motion and I gasp. “Thank you, Daddy,” I whisper onto his lips.

“Fucking hell, Y/N, you’re so goddamn tight.” He’s still above me, and I can see his shoulders shaking in restraint. “You feel like heaven.”

“Please move, please. Let go, I can take it.” I whisper, peering into his eyes and he pulls out a little bit to thrust shallowly. He swallows my moan with his lips, kissing me with the fervor of a man starved. He starts off at a slow pace and despite being sensitive from my previous two orgasms, I need more. I dig my nails into his shoulder. “Please, for the love of God, fuck me. Hard. Please. I can take it. All of it.” He looks at me hard, searching for any hesitation, but his dick is literally inside of me, so there’s no hesitation on my part. I nod up at him and he leans down to kiss me as he starts to set a brutal pace. His hips are slamming against mine and when I shift my hips up to meet his thrusts he hits my G-spot with every thrust. “SHIT!” I shout, the words quickly turning into a loud moan as his thumb comes down to flick at my clit. I’m shaking with arousal, and I can feel his balls slap against my ass with how hard he’s fucking me.

“Come on, pretty girl, I know you’ve got one more in you. Give it to Daddy. I want to feel you cum around my cock.” There are no thoughts in my head anymore, everything in me has zeroed in on the feeling of him literally fucking me into the mattress. “You look so pretty fucked out like this, bet you can’t think of anything but my cock inside of you, huh?” I nod and he laughs, kissing me hard. He leans back just enough to change the angle by shifting my calf onto his shoulder. He thrusts, hard, and I whimper. “You make such pretty sounds when I’m fucking you.” He picks up the pace again, moving his thumb on my clit in tight circles. I let out a broken moan as he hits just the right spot inside of me, and he takes note of it, hitting the same spot repeatedly, thumb keeping its pace on my clit. It’s overwhelming and I know that this orgasm is going to ruin other men for me. No one can do it like him. “Y/N,” his voice is low, “Look at me, baby, I want to watch you fall apart.” I drag my eyes open and look at him with dazed eyes. One particularly hard thrust and a drag of his thumb over my clit and I’m cumming violently, thrashing against him and gripping the bed sheets, my body spasming and I feel him fuck me through it and spill inside of me with a shouted curse before I black out.

I come to and can feel a warm washcloth being dragged between my legs gingerly. I hiss at the contact.

“Oh, thank god, are you okay?” I nod, throat raspy from screaming. “Can I get you anything?” I shake my head no, and the warm washcloth returns, I jump at the sensation. “I know, I have to clean you up though, okay?” He finishes in the next couple of moments and throws the washcloth into the hamper.

“How long was I out?” I say softly.

“Five minutes? Maybe six.” I nod.

“Sorry.”

“Sorry? Y/N, that was the biggest ego boost I’ve had in years.” He chuckles and I let out a weak laugh.

“Help me up?” I whisper, holding my hands out toward him. He obliges, gently grabbing my hands and pulling me into a sitting position. My vision starts to go spotty again. “Oh, Jesus,” I say, starting to slump forwards. His arms wrap around me quickly, holding me against his chest until my vision starts to return to normal. His thumbs are rubbing my back and I wish I could stay in this moment forever. “I’m okay, I think,” I whisper after a minute and try to pull away but he only lets me get a few inches away, eyes worriedly searching my face. “Hotch, I’m fine. I swear. Now let me go so I can go pee.” He lets go of me slowly and when I stand up to walk toward the bathroom, my legs buckle underneath me. “Oh, come on!” I exclaim, but Hotch is right there to catch me. He scoops me up despite my protests and carries me bridal style to the bathroom, setting me down on the toilet. “Thank you,” I whisper, suddenly embarrassed.

“No, don’t do that. I can see you trying to hide, getting embarrassed.”

“Am I that obvious?”

“Yeah, when your guard is down, you’re easy to read.”

“So, uh, do we just pretend this never happened? Go back to the way things were. I assume that’s what you want?” I bury my face in my hands, unable to look at him.

“Go back to the way things were? Y/N, baby, no. I can’t go back. This was not a one-time thing. I’m yours if you’ll have me.” I peek at him from between my fingers.

“Wait, you’re being serious right now?”

“Dead serious.” He gets on his knees in front of me. “I’ve wanted you from the first moment you walked into my office. I just didn’t think you’d reciprocate, until Morgan made a comment two months ago about your body language, and that’s when I had the hunch you felt the same way.”

“So, you’ve known I’ve been pining over you for months and didn’t think to say anything?” My pitch gets higher as the sentence goes on.

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Yes, I’m clearly uncomfortable with you as I’m sitting in front of you, naked,” I say drily and he laughs again.

“Yeah, I know, I’m an idiot.”

“Yes, you are,” I say, smiling, before adding, “But you’re my idiot.” His eyes brighten at that.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. As you said, I’m yours if you’ll have me.”

“Good. Because I’m never letting go of you.” I feel my cheeks grow warm.

“Good, because I don’t want you to.”

#hotch x y/n #hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch #hotch x reader #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #hotch smut

1K notes · View notes

jqyszn · 1 year ago

Note

i just imagined reader being an mc on mubank or inkigayo or smth, while the mcs are interviewing enha, reader actually has a remote control vibrator in and hoon has gradually been increasing the speed and intensity while she was interviewing them

(maybe they fuck after enha's perf cause he feels bad)

anon. i love you for this omg. first of all that’s so sunghoon coded??? like i bet you he would love seeing you squirm and holding back your whimpers while you clamp your legs together🥺 this is honestly too good to not make a drabble so here you go <3

(drabble under cut!)

pairing: idol!sunghoon x idol!mc!fem!reader

warnings: vibrator (obv), pet names (princess, baby), sunghoon being a cheeky bastard, orgasm denial, pulling out method (please wear protection😭), hair pulling, mirror sex..?, pwp???

and now, the “future of kpop.. enhypen!” you cheered as enhypen walked into the room bowing. as soon as they get in their positions, sunghoon mischievously put his hand in his pocket and switched on the remote. your body jerks as you bite your lip to seal your moans.

“so sunghoon, would you say this comeback has been a hit?” the other mc asks him.

“of course! our fans and other idols including y/n here seem to love it!” he grinned, increasing the intensity of the vibrator causing you to bow your head down not wanting anyone to see your fucked out expression.

“y/n are you alright?” one of the members asks to which you shoot your head up and nod, “yes i’m alright thank you, its probably because of the heat of this fire comeback!” you exclaim at the camera, looking back at sunghoon giving him a glare.

a quick intermission comes on giving sunghoon a chance to whisper into your ear.

“you’re doing so good princess.. you close?” he smirks against your ear, nipping at your earlobe.

“i’m so close hoon, please.” you beg, whimpering in his ear making his eyes darken with lust.

“as much as i love you baby, you can only cum if it’s around my cock. feel it baby, it’s so fucking hard for you.” he playfully moaned in your ear, guiding your hand down his body. your hand grazing over his hot and heavy boner.

“meet me in the changing rooms after our performance hm?” he grinned at you before the crew announced that you were now broadcasting again.

waiting for the performance to finish was tedious. watching him dance and sing with his charisma practically dripping off of him. even watching him from afar had you soaking your panties.

once the performance was finished, you waited for what seemed like decades, watching the other staff and members leave the room. after watching the last staff leave, you knock on the door.

“get in here.” he growls, pulling you in immediately smashing his lips onto yours, kissing you so hard and needy. “fuck i need you so bad right now. turn around.” his hand landing on your plump ass, earning a red mark.

you bend over the make up table, your soaked panties on full display for him. he licked his lips hungrily lifting up your skirt before he tore them off. “oh shit. do you see how fucking wet you are right now?” he teased, yanking the vibrator out of you replacing it with his slender fingers.

“ahh~ sunghoon!” you moan out only to be hushed by him. “be quiet. do you want everyone to know how well i’m gonna fuck you?” he cocked an eyebrow looking at you through the mirror. “no..” you answer, biting your lip almost to the point you can taste blood.

“exactly.” he tutted, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants before taking them off along with his boxers in a swift move. his raging, leaking tip hitting off his lower abdomen then standing proud.

“you don’t know how long i’ve been waiting to pound this little pussy.” he groans, pumping his length before lining it up with your entrance. “hoon please put it in..!” you begged, your hole clenching around nothingness.

“you best bet i fucking will.” he smirked, pushing himself into you, making sure you feel every inch of his throbbing cock. a loud moan escapes you, sunghoon hushing you by covering your mouth with his large hand.

“so you really do want people to hear us don’t you princess? such a dirty girl~” he cooed as he began to slowly thrust in and out of you. “don’t you dare make a sound.” he whispered into your ear seductively, removing his hand from your mouth only to pull your hair back as he pounded into you from behind.

“look at you, being fucked dumb by me. fuck! your pussy is so tight!” he grunted, pulling you hair harder.

“hoon.. i’m close!” you quietly moan, your walls clenching uncontrollably on his length.

“cum for me then princess. milk my cock for all you’re worth.” he let go of your hair, taking both your arms and pinning them behind your back.

“shit i’m cumming hoon!” you shut your eyes, feeling yourself let go all over his cock. your warm juices coating his girthy memeber deliciously.

“so.. fucking… good!” he grunted as he begins to approach his high, slamming into you like a wild beast. “ah shit!” he growls, pulling out of your cunt quickly. he pumped his wet dick, his load spurting all over your ass.

a/n: i literally finished this “drabble” within 2 hours which is insane because it’s not that far off with words as “Like what you see?” has 😭😭 maybe because i was busy…? idk but i hope u enjoyed this

#enhypen #enhypen smut #sunghoon #sunghoon smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen ff #enhypen fics #park sunghoon smut #sunghoon fic #park sunghoon #enhypen imagines #ri’s asks 💬#kpop #kpop smut #kpop hard hours

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lavylu · 8 months ago

Note

Hi! I just finished reading your Bucky x reader where they have a thing for his metal arm and the way you write Bucky is so *chef’s kiss*! If you’re open to a request could I request Bucky x reader where the reader has a thing for Bucky and his long hair? Long haired Bucky is my weakness, the longer his hair is the better imo! Hope this ask finds you well! Take care!

Pull

A/N: thanks so much! I’m doing great. And I love when others enjoy my writing.

You couldn’t help but watch Bucky as he cooked. His long hair falling in his face. He pursed his lips slightly in concentration and blew a puff of hair up at his hair.

You watched from the doorway completely entranced by the man before you. You hadn’t seen him in a few weeks and you loved his new hair.

It looked so soft and fluffy and framed his beautiful face in a perfect way. Even though it was cute, you had more dirty thoughts entering your mind.

Specifically how much you wanted to run your fingers through it. Tugging on his roots.

Bucky chuckled. “I can feel your eyes on me baby girl”

You blushed. “I wasn’t staring”

“Sure you weren’t” he laughs.

He turns to face you and gives you a wink. He sets down the bowl and smirks. He shakes the flour off his hands.

You giggle as he gestures you closer. “Yes?”

“Just wanting to see my pretty girlfriend. She’s been gone for a while.”

A huge smile covers his face. He pulls you by your hips. His warm hand squeezing your flesh. And his metal hand sneaking its way under your shirt.

The metal makes you shiver. He chuckles as he traces your naval with his metal fingers.

He lightly kisses your neck, his hair tickling you. “Did you miss me baby?”

You nod. It’s obvious you did.

He just smiles and continues to nibble your neck. He whispers against your ear. “I’ve missed you… the way you taste”

Your face heats up immediately. Bucky just laughs at your blush.

“Don’t be shy Princess, it’s the truth. I’ve missed tasting you.”

You let out a soft moan as he begins to caress your skin. His hand goes to your jeans, slowly unbuttoning them.

You shiver as he pulls down your jeans. He chuckles when he sees your lacy panties. “Guess someone was eager”

You roll your eyes playfully as he leads you to the table. He picks you up like you way nothing and lays you down.

Buckys lips lightly graze your thighs. His kisses being light. He slowly and sensually kisses your core through your panties. He seems to inhale, taking in your scent.

You moan as he hooks his finger into the elastic. He pulls your panties down, fully slipping them off your legs.

“Much better princess”

He leans forward again, licking a long strip up your slit. His nose nuzzles against your clit making you moan.

Before you could help yourself, you found your hands were in his hair. Bucky yelped slightly but instead of pulling away he began to thrust his tongue in and out of your eager hole.

You could feel his smirk against your cunt. He was a proud little fucker.

He lapped at your pussy, your arousal collecting on his tongue. His human hand held your legs open while his metal hand went to your clit.

The cool metal circled the sensitive bud causing you to grip his hair tighter. He quickened his pace as he ate you out.

He moaned against your pussy, his eyes looking up at you in a devilish way.

“You… cheeky… bastard” you heaved

Bucky smirked again and switched to sucking on your clit. His metal fingers slid in and out of your pussy at an eager speed.

The wet sounds filled the room. His lips sucking perfectly on your sensitive nub.

Your back arched as your high approached. Your fingers tugging at his roots. You cried out as the pleasure kept building and building.

Until

“Oh fuck! Bucky!”

Your entire body shuddered as you cummed on his fingers. Bucky slyly pulled his fingers out and gave you a wink.

He sucked them between his lips. His smile was devilish. “So you like pulling my hair huh? Guess I should keep it”

#marvel smut #smut #marvel x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes #bucky smut #james bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky Barnes x reader smut

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starry-eyedblog · 11 months ago

Note

your favourite english girl here with a niche english girl request...

johnny coming back from a mission or somehow walking in on his english gf reader sleeping in an england football shirt after they just beat scotland? 👉👈

a bit of somno/nation play/fluffy ending if you feel like indulging me, please? 🥺

funny seeing you here bunny :3

making me write scotland loosing against england is painful, but for you i’ll indulge. got a real thing for scottish people degrading you for being english eh? <3

warnings/tags: 18+ smut, somno, fingering, oral (blowjob), degrading, gagging, mean soap, degrading the english?? lol

johnny had been out at the pub, watching the game with his mates and he was upset to say the least. the game ended poorly, a 2-1 defeat against england that left him huffing. he only stayed for one more pint after the game, not in the mood to listen to the taunting of his english friends much longer.

he got out of the taxi, paying the fare as well as tip before he was walking into the house. he made quick work of kicking his shoes off and sauntering upstairs to the bedroom, a smile on his face as he saw you already snoring away under the covers.

johnny shrugged his jeans down and pulled his jacket and t-shirt off, dropping them to the floor to deal with in the morning before pulling the duvet back and crawling onto the bed. as the duvet came away from your sleeping form, he saw the english top you were wearing and a scoff left him. “cheeky .” he muttered quietly.

he looked up at your sleeping face, yanking the cover down further before his hand was running under the white top and resting at the waistband of your underwear. he wasted no time in slipping his hand into your underwear, gently tracing over your cunt. one thick finger was then sliding inside of you, working slow to not wake you yet.

you let out a soft sound, moving around slightly but you don’t wake, still sleeping peacefully as johnny teases your cunt. it doesn’t long before he’s growing more aggressive, adding a second finger as the english badge stares right at him.

memories of the mockery from his mates runs through his mind, watching his team loose on the bring screen and hearing those awful english chants. god he hated it all and soon he’s hissing above you, his other hand coming up to grab your face.

his fingers dig into your cheeks, pulling your head up and forcing your face into a pout as you wake up confused and dazed. hot pleasure seeps through you, faster than your brain can comprehend and you moan softly. “jo-johnny? when did you get, ahh.” you whimper, unable to finish your sentence as his fingers inside of you become meaner.

johnny digs his fingers into your g-spot with no remorse. “tryna rile me up, eh hen? wanted tae make me mad did ye aye? well ye got yer wish, english bastard.” he mutters, his eyes staring into yours as he pulls his hand away from your face and rests it on your inner thigh.

his words and aggressive tone send a shiver down your spine and cause wetness to seep from your stuffed hole, soaking his fingers more. “fuck johnny,” you gasp out as your head drops back slightly into the pillow again.

“bet ye were real happy with the result.” he grumbles, fingers pressing even harder into your g-spot. he’s rough, ploughing his fingers in and out of your soaking cunt.

you try to respond but it just feels too good, especially when his thumb presses to your twitching clit. a cry leaves you at that moment, hips bucking up for more. “wanna cum?” he asks, looking up at you with dark eyes and you nod frantically. “yes yes, please johnny c’mon please.” you whine.

johnny adds more pressure to your clit, his fingers still thrusting meanly. “shame, should’ve thought about that before ye wore that mingin’ top.” he utters, leaning forward and spitting directly on the badge of the english football top.

his fingers then leave your sopping wet cunt, no longer touching you at all as he pulls back and leans on his knees that cage your legs in. you let out a soft whine, squirming underneath him, so so desperate to cum. “s’jus a game johnny!” you complain, looking up at him with puppy eyes but it won’t work on him now.

“oh just a game aye?” he chuckles, looking at you as he pulls his boxers down enough to free his cock. “open yer mouth, fuckin whore.” he almost growls, moving up closer so the tip of his leaking cock presses against your bottom lip.

you do as he says, dropping your mouth open and welcoming his thick cock in. a low groan of pleasure leaves him, his head tipping back as both his hands come to cradle your head and keep you in place.

“gonna take everything i gie ye or yer gettin hee haw.” johnny hisses, sliding his cock further into your mouth. you moan around him, trying your best to nod but it’s impossible with his strong grip. your hands come up to grab at his bare thighs, holding on tightly.

soon enough he’s thrusting in and out of your mouth, enjoying the way you gag and sputter around him. “you fuckin english dinnae ken when tae shut yer gobs. have tae fill them, use them for somethin more worthwhile eh?” he chuckles, cruelly catching you off guard by roughly thrusting all the way forward so the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat.

you gag loudly, tears streaming down your face as your mouth is pressed all the way to his groin, his curly pubes brushing against your face. it’s not long before johnny is letting out more groans and whines, signalling he’s close.

he continues to use and abuse your mouth, giving no mercy as he soaks up all the pleasure. and then without warning, he’s cumming straight down your throat, keeping his cock in your mouth. “fuck hen, there ye go.” he groans as his eyes flutter shut.

you take it all, crying and whining as you swallow down every last drop. once he’s finished, johnny slowly pulls back and watches his spit slicked cock slide out of your mouth. oh and what a sight it is. his cock tries to give an interested twitch against his thigh but he’s too spent right now.

johnny trails his thumb over your bottom lip, smearing his cum and your spit on your face and you look up at him with teary eyes. “all the english are good for, suckin cock n crying.” he whispers and you feel your cunt pulse and leak more slick into your underwear.

after cleaning you up and changing you, johnny pulls you into his arms and cradles you into his chest in bed. “wasnae too rough was i?” he asks softly, combing his fingers through your hair and you smile against his bare chest under the duvet. “enjoyed it.” you whisper and he laughs softly.

“ye ken i didnae mean all of that, aye lass?” he says and you nod against him. “i know, just dirty talk.” you respond, looking up at him and your eyes meet one another. “couldnae ever think of my bonnie girlfriend like that. yer brilliant.” he whispers, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead and you glow.

“does that mean i can cum tonight then?” you cheekily ask and soap raises a brow. “pushin yer luck pet.” he jokes, the two of you laughing in one another’s embrace.

#john soap mactavish #soap mctavish #soap x reader #soap call of duty #soap cod #soap mw2 #fem reader #tw smut #tw degradation

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sunnynwanda · 11 months ago

Note

Hi! Your writing is just amazing 🤘🏾 may I request a spicy hero x villain , with an EXTREMELY flirty villain. Perhaps giving off a "one night stand" sorta vibe? Idk whatever you're comfortable with. Thank you in advance!

Temptation

Part 2

Hero was livid. Rightfully so. Not only did the asshole of a villain they had the misery of working against attack on Christmas Eve, but they also had to do that on the only chance Hero had of company. They were Christmas carolling near the central square, for God's sake. There was nothing to gain from attacking them there. Or attacking at all.

And it's not like Villain even pursued anything - they were just determined to piss Hero off and ruin their holiday spirit to compensate for their own foul mood. Solely out of spite. So yes, Hero was seething. And Villain was going to regret provoking them.

They grab a garland light off the toppled tree and wrap it around Villain's wrists. They attempt to jerk away and free themselves, when Hero restricts their movements by twisting their arms behind their back and securing them before wrapping the rest of the garland down to their feet to completely immobilise them.

"Stay fucking still!" They growl through gritted teeth, tugging at the improvised chain a little too harshly.

"I like it a bit more gentle, baby," Villain murmurs under their breath, but when Hero smacks them, they start thrashing around like a fish out of water.

Hero picks Villain up, fighting the temptation to knock them out, and throws them over their shoulder. They wish the citizens happy holidays and depart with a heavy heart. Once they've dealt with Villain, there'll be nothing but an empty apartment and frozen pizza waiting for them. All because of the dumbass that keeps banging their tied fists at Hero's back, demanding attention.

"Stop." They order, only to be ignored. "I told you to stop, you absolute prick!"

Villain seizes their blows for a short moment before resuming again with a cheeky laugh. And Hero has had enough. They throw Villain off their shoulder, watching them land on the concrete floor of their apartment balcony. Normally, they would avoid bringing Villain to their own place. But, the agency was closed because every normal human being was supposed to be at home, celebrating with their families.

They land, turning Villain over face up and grasping their collar to pull them to a standing position. A strained breath escapes them from the force with which Hero slams their back against the wall. They hiss when their head makes contact with the rough surface.

"Now listen here, you miserable bastard," they start, anger sweeping over them.

Against their better judgement, Villain coughs out a laugh, only getting Hero more riled up.

"You sure I'm the miserable one here?"

This earns them a blow to the gut, but they can't even bend over properly because of their confines.

"Shut your mouth and listen to me," Hero snarls, no longer able to contain their aggravation. They don't even know why they are so mad at Villain specifically - poor-timed attack aside. It is perhaps their frustration getting the best of them, Villain just happened to cross their path at the wrong moment. "We have two options here."

Villain swallows, their throat tight, then nods. Something is off, and they can sense that. Usually, Hero was up for a little brawl. It was entertaining and never meant to inflict any significant harm. Same for today, Villain was sure the toppled tree was back in position with only one garland and a couple of ornaments missing. Worst case scenario, ten. Hero's rage was far from being equivalent to the damage done.

"You give us both a holiday break, or I leave you here tied up with this garland for the entire weekend," Hero's warning drags them out of their thoughts. But they wouldn't be who they are if they abandoned their plan that easily. Villain pulls their lower lip between their teeth and drags a finger over Hero's toned stomach, eyes lided.

"There's another option, too," they muse in a low voice. They know they are probably laying it on too thick, but they need to get the message across. And if this doesn't get Hero to relax, they don't know what will. With a crooked smile now adorning their face, Villain continues. "If you'd care to twitch your plan a bit, that is."

Hero stares at them with the most deadpan look they can muster. They despise the way their voice sounds hoarse when they finally speak. "How so?"

The sexual tension between them was insane - to a painful extent. It was evident from the very start, but they never succumbed to it and never showed any inclination to cave in. Or so they thought.

"Well, it'd go pretty much the same - you tie me up with the garland," Villain explains, squirming to illustrate their point. And free their arms. "Except, you stay, too, and get to do whatever you'd like to me."

"What?" Hero chokes out, incredulous at the shiver Villain's words send down their back. They are flabbergasted at how quickly they were ready to nod in agreement.

"Preferably for the entire weekend," Villain can't help the teasing tone and seeing Hero's reaction only prompts them to keep going. They gulp, voice heavy with arousal. "If you can handle me for that long."

"I..." Hero gapes at them, utterly at a loss for words. Their skin prickles with agitation when Villain offers them a suggestive wink.

"I'm damn sure that'll be your best Christmas yet."

Hero bites their lip to suppress a throaty groan, and Villain smirks, knowing full well they got them. They can feel the heat rising in their stomach when Hero looks up at them with darkened eyes. Their dilated irises lock onto Villain's when the question drops from their lips. Villain barely registers it, too occupied with the thoughts of that mouth on their skin.

"And what happens next?" Hero asks, barely restraining themselves from throwing every inhibition aside and ravaging them on the cold balcony of their apartment.

"Nothing," Villain squeezes out, their tongue sweeps out to wet their parted lips. Being bound up and at Hero's hands always did things to them they were not prepared to unravel, but this seemed like the perfect opportunity to go there. "We let the tension out of our systems and return to our usual fighting routine."

A part of Hero fears the weekend won't be enough to satiate their hunger, but it's worth a shot. At least they can get a taste of something they have craved for longer than they dare admit.

"You know you want me, darling." Villain chimes in, worming out of their chains and wrapping their arms around Hero's neck. "You can't hide it."

Without further thoughts, Hero crashes their lips in a searing kiss, picking them up with one arm while the other pushes the door open. Villain moans into their mouth, wrapping their legs around Hero's waist as they are carried into the apartment.

They don't know whether this is an incredible idea or a horrible mistake. It's up for debate whether this will end up as a one night stand with their nemesis or a beginning of something much more than that. They don't even know if it's anger or attraction that's fueling Hero's desire for them. If there is one thing Villain does know, it's that they won't be spending Christmas enveloped by the emptiness of their existence.

Part 2

Masterlist

Hi, darling!

Thank you so much for the request and kind words, I appreaciate that! I hope I managed to capture your idea in this snippet and that you will enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

It's not as spicy, but there could always be a part 2, right? :D

xo Sunny

Taglist: @marvellousdaisy @alltimelowing @lateuplight @surplus-of-sarcasm @betwist @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @enemies-to-idiots-to-lovers @miaowmelodie @thatonerandomauthor @hhabaddon @burningoutlikeicarus @daemonvatis @weepingcowboywolfbat @thelazywitchphotographer @kaiwewi @soul-of-a-local-bard @pigeonwhumps @aflyingsheepnamedrose @thatneptune @ohwellthatslifesstuff @worldsfromhoney

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sacrednova · 1 month ago

Text

The Unofficial Task Force | Task Force 141

Short storys, funny moments ft Fem!Reader. NOT SMUT, just funny things. COMPLETE, all in one post! Summary: Chaotic and hilarious comic series, featuring Soap, Gaz, Ghost, Price, and you getting into all sorts of ridiculous situations.

The Case of the Missing Puzzle Piece

There was a strange sense of satisfaction in the air as you, Soap, and Gaz sat on the floor of the common room, staring intently at the nearly completed puzzle. Nearly being the keyword. After two hours of squinting at pieces and arguing over which one fit where, you were finally down to the last piece.

Except for one tiny problem.

"The last piece is missing," Soap groaned, slumping back and running a hand through his mohawk in pure frustration.

"You sure you didn’t eat it?" Gaz asked, staring daggers at Soap.

"I don’t eat puzzle pieces!" Soap shot back, offended.

"Sounds like something a puzzle-eater would say," you muttered, scanning the floor around you, convinced that if you stared long enough, it would magically appear.

Gaz shook his head, already looking annoyed. "I’m telling you, Johnny, it was here a minute ago. You were messing with it. It’s your fault."

Soap shot Gaz an incredulous look, eyes wide. "What? My fault? How's it my fault? You were the one hogging all the edge pieces like a bloody hoarder! Maybe ye lost it!"

"I was keeping them organized!" Gaz said defensively, and looked at you. "I bet you lost it. You’ve been sitting there, acting like you know what you're doing, but I see through it. You’ve had a distracted look the whole time."

You blinked at him. "Oh, come on, why am I getting blamed here? I’ve been doing most of the work while you two argue about who’s better at puzzles."

"Yeah, because I am better!" Soap argued.

"You are not!" Gaz shot back.

"Okay, okay!" You raised your hands in surrender, deciding to be the voice of reason for once. "Let’s think this through. One of us must’ve dropped it. Or… maybe…" You trailed off, narrowing your eyes. "Ghost has been awfully quiet."

The room went still. You, Soap, and Gaz turned simultaneously, glancing at Ghost, who was sitting in the corner of the room with his arms crossed. He hadn’t said a word the entire time, just watched you three idiots fight over a puzzle.

Ghost remained motionless under your collective scrutiny, almost like a statue. You squinted harder. Wait… Was that… a small smile under that mask? No. No way. Not Ghost. He was always stoic, unreadable. But you had a hunch.

"Ghost…" you called out slowly, standing up. "Where’s the last piece?"

Nothing. Just silence.

You took a cautious step toward him, eyes narrowing. "You've been awfully quiet. Too quiet."

Soap’s face lit up with realization. "Oi! Ghost! Ye’ve had it the whole time, haven’t ye, ya cheeky bastard!"

Gaz’s jaw dropped. "No way. No way. Ghost wouldn’t do that."

You all stared at Ghost as if you’d just uncovered the greatest betrayal in military history.

Ghost, without moving an inch, reached into his pocket, and sure enough—there it was. The missing puzzle piece.

Soap gasped, dramatically clutching his chest. "I knew it! Betrayed by me own lieutenant!"

Ghost’s eyes gleamed with amusement as he slowly, agonizingly slowly, turned the puzzle piece between his gloved fingers, watching all of you like a cat playing with its prey.

You folded your arms and shook your head. "You’ve had it this whole time? Seriously?"

Ghost finally spoke, his deep, gravelly voice dripping with dry humor. "Maybe. Just wanted to see how long it’d take before you all lost your minds."

Gaz rubbed his temples in disbelief. "Well, mission accomplished. You should’ve been a bloody interrogator with tactics like that."

Ghost finally got up, towering over all of you, and with a smooth motion, placed the final piece into the puzzle.

"Done," he said, stepping back to admire the completed picture. His tone was casual, but you could tell from the slight tilt of his head that he was satisfied. Like he’d just completed a covert mission.

Soap looked between the puzzle and Ghost, then threw his hands in the air. "I swear, Ghost, yer a madman."

"Technically," you piped in, grinning, "he’s a puzzle mastermind."

Ghost just shrugged, turning to leave the room without another word, but you caught the faintest chuckle before he vanished through the door.

Soap shook his head, disbelief still all over his face. "I cannae believe it. Ghost, the ultimate puzzle villain."

Gaz chuckled, patting you on the shoulder. "Next time, remind me not to play games with him. Man’s got a twisted sense of humor."

You laughed, finally feeling the tension melt away. "We definitely all need therapy after this."

As Ghost's footsteps faded, Soap muttered, “Aye, but ye’ve gotta admit… the bloke knows how to keep things interesting.”

Surviving the Heat: Unsolved Mysteries

It was one of those summer days where the heat was so oppressive that even breathing felt like a chore. You and Soap were sprawled out on the ground in the shade, limbs splayed like overcooked noodles, trying to survive the sweltering temperature. Neither of you had the energy to move or even speak properly. You were like two deflated balloons, resigned to the heat-induced delirium.

"I feel like a puddle," you groaned, staring blankly at the sky, the sun glaring down at you like it had a personal vendetta.

Soap made an unintelligible noise of agreement beside you, his face smooshed against the grass. "I swear, I’m melting. If ye find a soapy puddle later, it’s just me."

You let out a weak laugh, the sound coming out more like a wheeze. "I don’t think I’ve ever been this hot. Even the shade isn’t helping. We’re done for."

Soap turned his head slightly toward you, eyes half-closed. "Y’think Price sweats under his facial hair?"

The question hung in the air for a moment, and you blinked, your heat-fried brain trying to process it.

"Like… does he have a mini sauna going on under there?" Soap added, clearly trying to keep his mind occupied with nonsense.

You snorted, the ridiculous mental image giving you some energy. "Oh, for sure. A whole rainforest ecosystem. He probably has birds nesting in there too."

Soap chuckled weakly, but the sound was pitiful in the heat. "Oi, speaking of mysteries, d’you reckon Ghost ever takes off his mask when it’s this hot?"

You turned your head, squinting in the sunlight. "No way. That thing’s like fused to his soul or something. Man probably wears it to bed."

"Imagine if he has a whole collection of ‘em," Soap mused, now fully invested in this line of nonsense. "A mask for every occasion—casual, formal, tropical weather…"

Before you could reply, you heard the sound of approaching footsteps. Gaz appeared, striding towards you like he was on a mission, looking far too smug for a man under this level of heat.

"Oi, guys," Gaz called out, his voice full of confidence, "I’ve got the answers you’re looking for."

You both turned your heads slowly, intrigued by his dramatic entrance. Soap’s face perked up slightly, though it was still squished into the ground. "Gaz, mate, ye better be bringing good news. Is there a fan? An air conditioner? Cold drinks?"

Gaz grinned like he was about to drop the knowledge of the century. "I know if Price sweats under his beard, and I know if Ghost takes off his mask in the heat."

You and Soap exchanged wide-eyed glances, tension rising. This was it. Finally, the mystery would be solved. Gaz, with his epic entrance and air of importance, was about to reveal everything.

The world seemed to still as you both leaned in, awaiting his revelation.

Just then, Ghost walked right past you, mask still firmly on, looking as composed as ever despite the scorching heat. His black combat gear somehow not turning him into a human furnace.

Behind him, Price followed, his glorious facial hair in full display, looking perfectly fresh, as if the heat hadn’t even touched him. His beard didn’t even seem slightly damp. He looked like he’d just stepped out of an air-conditioned room.

There was a long, painful silence.

You and Soap watched them walk by, your mouths hanging open in disbelief. How? HOW?!

Gaz, who had been so confident moments ago, now stood there awkwardly, realizing his “grand reveal” had been completely derailed by the actual evidence right in front of you.

"…I swear I had answers," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

Soap finally broke the silence, lifting his head from the ground with a groan. "Aye, but apparently we’ll never understand the dark magic that keeps those two cool."

You nodded, still stunned by the injustice of it all. "Forget needing therapy. I need a damn scientist to explain this. Ghost in a mask and Price with all that hair… and they’re not even sweating?!"

Gaz sighed, sitting down beside you two, his dramatic entrance having completely fizzled out. "They must be made of something else. Ice, probably."

Soap laughed, rolling onto his back, his limbs flopping out in defeat. "Makes sense. Ghost is colder than a grave, after all."

You sighed, slumping back onto the ground. "I’m done. Let’s just lay here and accept our fate as mortals who suffer under the sun."

And so, the three of you lay there, utterly defeated by the heat and the unsolvable mystery of how Price and Ghost managed to stay cool while the rest of you felt like you were melting into the ground. Whatever their secret was, it wasn’t meant for mere mortals like you.

The Reckoning

You and Gaz were lounging in the common area, enjoying a rare moment of peace when the sharp call echoed through the base.

"SOAP!" Price’s voice boomed from the other end of the hallway.

You both immediately sat up, eyes wide. Uh-oh. That tone meant one thing: trouble. Real trouble. The kind of trouble you only get into when you’ve seriously annoyed the captain.

Soap appeared a second later, standing stiff as a board like a kid about to get grounded. "Aye, Cap?" he called back, his voice full of false bravado as he tried to act casual.

"Office. Now."

Without another word, Soap trudged down the hallway, shoulders slumped. He looked back at you and Gaz just once, his eyes wide with fear. It was like watching someone walk the plank.

You and Gaz exchanged a glance, both silently communicating the same thing: What did he do this time?

As Soap disappeared into Price’s office, you and Gaz sat there in silence, the tension in the air thick enough to cut with a knife.

"That’s the same look I gave when my dad found out I crashed the car," Gaz muttered, staring after Soap with wide eyes. "He’s in deep."

"Yeah, like… real deep," you agreed, leaning forward with a grin. "You think he broke something important? Maybe messed up during the last mission?"

Gaz shook his head, already deep in thought. "Nah, if it was mission-related, Price would’ve called all of us in. This is something personal. Something… stupid."

You nodded sagely. "Something Soap would do."

"Exactly."

You both sat there in silence for a moment, wracking your brains. What could Soap have possibly done to make Price drag him into a one-on-one? You knew Soap loved to push the captain’s buttons, but this felt different.

"Maybe he ate Price’s secret stash of cigars," Gaz suggested, his eyes lighting up. "You know how protective he is over those things."

You laughed, though it sounded more nervous than amused. "If he did, he’s a dead man. Maybe he swapped out the cigars for a prank? Put in some of those joke exploding ones?"

Gaz’s eyes widened. "If he did that, we’ll be attending his funeral tomorrow."

As you both reached the top of your ridiculous theories, the door to Price’s office finally creaked open. You and Gaz froze, eyes glued to the hallway.

Soap emerged, walking as if he were in the final scene of a tragic war movie, his face blank, his footsteps slow and deliberate. It was like watching a soldier come back from a battle they didn’t win.

He gave you both a nod of acknowledgment as he passed, but he didn’t say a word. Dramatic didn’t even begin to cover it.

You and Gaz looked at each other, mouths hanging open.

"What… what just happened?" Gaz asked, half-laughing, half-worried.

"I dunno, but I think we’re about to find out," you replied, eyes still fixed on Soap’s retreating figure.

The silence was broken by a low, gravelly voice coming from behind you. "He’s taking care of the rookies for a week."

Both you and Gaz jumped, turning to see Ghost standing there in his usual silent way. You didn’t even realize he had been in the room the whole time.

"Wait, what?" Gaz asked, blinking in confusion. "That’s it? He’s just babysitting the rookies for a week?"

"That’s not so bad," you added, looking at Ghost. "Why’s he getting punished for that?"

Ghost stared at you both, his skull mask unreadable as always, but there was a distinct edge to his voice when he finally spoke. "Because he stole my mask."

You and Gaz both gasped, hands flying to your mouths in exaggerated shock. He stole Ghost’s mask?!

Gaz shook his head in disbelief. "No way. He actually did it?"

You leaned closer, wide-eyed. "But wait, how did he even survive that?"

Ghost crossed his arms, voice cold and clipped. "I went to Price."

That… explained everything. It wasn’t that Soap had stolen the mask. It was that he had survived long enough after stealing it for Ghost to take him to Price instead of handling it his way.

You sat back, stunned. "So… Price put him on rookie duty as payback?"

Ghost’s eyes gleamed with dark humor behind the mask. "For revenge."

Gaz let out a low whistle, shaking his head in amazement. "Man, Soap’s lucky to be alive. Rookie duty’s a death sentence in itself, though."

You nodded, still trying to process the sheer audacity of Soap’s actions. "Taking Ghost’s mask is basically asking for a slow, painful death. But… rookie duty for a week? Yeah, that’s worse."

Ghost gave a small shrug, already turning to leave the room. "He won’t survive."

As Ghost walked out, you and Gaz were left sitting there, staring after him in stunned silence.

"Remind me to never piss off Ghost," Gaz muttered, rubbing his temples.

"Agreed," you said, still reeling. "And never steal anything from him. Ever."

You both sat back, glancing towards the hallway where Soap had disappeared. He would be fine. Eventually. But in the meantime, he was about to face the most grueling punishment of all—the rookies.

The Great Pineapple Pizza War

The mission had been long, exhausting, and the entire team was in desperate need of some downtime. So, what did you all agree on? Pizza. It was simple, delicious, and a guaranteed way to lift everyone's spirits. Or so you thought.

The pizzas arrived, the smell wafting through the base like a gift from the heavens. You all gathered around the table, plates and napkins at the ready, mouths watering.

"Finally," Soap said, rubbing his hands together. "I’m starving. Let’s dig in, lads."

But as the first box was opened, Soap’s cheerful expression dropped faster than a grenade on a bad day. His eyes locked onto the toppings like he’d just witnessed a war crime.

"Wait…" He blinked. "Is that—pineapple?!"

You grinned wickedly from across the room, leaning casually against the counter as if you hadn’t just dropped a bomb on the team. "Yup. I ordered all the pizzas with pineapple."

There was a stunned silence, as if you’d just announced you were defecting to the enemy.

Soap froze, staring down at the offending fruit, his voice dropping into horrified disbelief. "No… NO. You… ye didn’t…!"

"I did." You beamed, like you had just declared world peace. "All. Pineapple. Every. Single. Pizza."

Gaz blinked in shock. "Wait, every one?"

You nodded proudly. "Every one."

"Mate…" Gaz groaned, shaking his head in dismay. "That’s just… cruel."

Soap, however, wasn’t having it. He slammed his hands down on the table like a man who’d been pushed too far. "Pineapple does not belong on pizza!"

"Here we go," Gaz muttered, rubbing his temples.

"Ye don’t put sweet on savory!" Soap was in full rant mode now, waving his arms dramatically. "It’s— it’s an abomination!"

You raised an eyebrow, still grinning. "But it’s so good, though. The sweetness, the tang, with the cheese—it’s perfect."

Gaz decided to take the middle ground, scratching his chin thoughtfully. "I mean, I’m not against pineapple on pizza. I just wouldn’t order it… ever."

Soap turned to him, looking betrayed. "Gaz, no! Don’t tell me yer okay with this!"

Gaz shrugged. "I wouldn’t start a war over it, mate."

"It’s a disgrace!" Soap continued, pointing at the pizzas like they’d personally offended him. "An insult to pizza lovers everywhere. It’s like putting jam on a steak!"

You leaned back, enjoying the chaos you’d unleashed. "Come on, Johnny. Live a little. You might like it if you tried it."

"I’d rather eat a live grenade," Soap shot back.

It was at this point that Ghost, who had been silent and still as a shadow up until now, finally stirred. You glanced at him, curious to see his reaction. He’d been standing there, watching the growing chaos unfold with crossed arms, his usual unflappable presence unshaken.

Then, to everyone’s surprise, Ghost did something none of you had ever seen before.

He lifted both his hands and dramatically covered his masked face in utter despair.

You blinked. "Ghost? You okay over there?"

Without looking up, Ghost’s deep, gravelly voice emerged from behind his hands, muffled by both his gloves and the mask. "Women are the devil."

There was a long pause. Soap’s jaw dropped. Gaz stared at Ghost, half in awe, half in disbelief.

You? You just burst out laughing.

Ghost peeked through his fingers for a moment, giving you an almost incredulous look before dramatically shaking his head, as if he’d finally reached the end of his patience with humanity.

"Really, Ghost?" you teased, still giggling. "Over pineapple pizza? That’s what broke you?"

He didn’t answer, just shook his head slowly, like he couldn’t believe what the world had come to. "Pineapple," he muttered, "on pizza. What has the world become?"

Gaz tried to suppress his laughter but failed miserably, snorting as he leaned back in his chair. "I dunno, mate. You might wanna go lie down after this one. Take some time to recover."

Soap, meanwhile, was still in full meltdown mode. "The devil," he echoed, pointing at you. "Ghost is right! Ye’re the devil! Who does that? Who orders all the pizzas with pineapple?"

You shrugged, completely unapologetic. "The devil’s hungry."

Ghost let out a long, exaggerated sigh behind his mask, shaking his head once more. "Unbelievable."

Soap dramatically threw his hands up in the air. "First pineapple, now this—who knows what horrors await us next!"

You gave him a wink. "You’ll survive, Johnny. Maybe even like it by the end."

"No. Never. I’ll die first."

As Soap stormed off to find some "proper" food, Gaz chuckled, patting you on the back. "Well, that’s one way to make dinner more interesting."

Ghost, still standing in the corner with his hands now crossed over his chest, gave you one last shake of his head, but you could tell beneath the mask, he was at least slightly amused.

Or maybe that was just the delusion brought on by too much pineapple pizza.

Either way, you smirked, triumphant.

Field Commentary

Chaos erupted all around you. Bullets whizzed past your head, the air filled with the deafening roar of gunfire and explosions. You were all pinned down, barely holding the line. But, as luck would have it, the extraction point was still a good sprint away, and the enemies were closing in.

"Alright, move out! Now!" Price's voice barked through the comms. "No time for hesitation!"

You took a deep breath and ran for it, legs pumping as fast as they could, dodging debris and weaving through the chaos. The extraction point loomed in the distance, but your legs felt like they weighed a thousand pounds. Your lungs burned with every breath, and you cursed yourself for skipping cardio days in favor of pizza nights.

Behind you, Soap and Gaz were… not exactly offering support.

"Ohh! Would you look at that!" Soap shouted over the gunfire, waving his arms as if he were announcing a sports match. "And she’s off! She's breaking through the midfield, dodging left and right—she’s makin’ her way to the goal!"

Gaz chimed in, using the comms as a mic, giving the play-by-play. "She's struggling now, folks. Legs heavy, knees weak! Will she make it to the end zone or collapse under the pressure?"

"I'm trying!" you wheezed, every breath a struggle as you felt the weight of their commentary more than the actual gunfire.

"Looks like she's slowin’ down! Definitely needin’ more cardio," Soap said with mock concern, his voice dripping with fake sympathy. "I always told her, mate, more yoga would fix this."

Gaz scoffed, giving an exaggerated shake of his head, even as he took cover behind some crates. "Yoga? Yoga’s for the flexible. What she needs is more running drills. Sprints. Real workouts."

"SHUT UP!" you screamed between gasps, trying to pick up the pace but failing miserably. Your legs felt like jelly, and the extraction point still seemed like miles away. "I… can’t… breathe!"

Price's voice crackled over the comms, not even slightly amused by the antics. "You lot finish messing around, or I’ll make sure all three of you are cleaning toilets for the next month."

"Sorry, Cap!" Soap grinned, though his eyes were still on you struggling through the field.

"Toilets!" Gaz echoed. "Yeah, wouldn’t wanna see that. Especially after Soap’s tactical chili night."

You were on the verge of passing out, eyes flicking back to the battle behind you, when suddenly you felt a pair of hands grab you from behind. You let out a small yelp, but then realized who it was.

Ghost had scooped you up like you weighed nothing, hoisting you onto his back as if you were a ragdoll. With barely a grunt of effort, he started sprinting towards the extraction point, dodging bullets and explosions like it was a casual jog in the park.

"Why are you so strong?!" you gasped, clutching onto him for dear life as he powered through the battlefield, leaving the others far behind.

Ghost didn’t even slow down, his voice calm and steady. "Because I actually do cardio."

You groaned, your body feeling like it was on fire, but there was something almost comforting about how easily Ghost carried you, barely breaking a sweat. He was an absolute machine. How could he do this so effortlessly?

"I need whatever you eat," you muttered, dazed from both exhaustion and amazement. "And maybe some steroids."

Behind you, Soap and Gaz were watching the whole thing unfold, their eyes wide in disbelief as Ghost carried you like you were nothing more than a backpack.

Soap wiped imaginary tears from his eyes. "Man… I need whatever that man eats too. Look at him go! Like a damn pack mule."

Gaz snorted, shaking his head as they kept running to catch up. "Forget yoga, mate. I think Ghost's got some secret super serum stashed somewhere. Man’s built like a bloody tank."

You groaned again, your head resting against Ghost’s shoulder as he continued his full-on sprint. "Just… shut up… both of you."

Ghost said nothing, just kept running, the extraction point now in sight.

As the evac chopper came into view, Soap, still panting from running, grinned at you. "Don’t worry, lass. Maybe Ghost’ll carry ye everywhere from now on. Or we’ll get ye a wheelbarrow!"

"Toilets," you muttered, half delirious. "I’ll clean toilets for a year if you two just stop talking."

The chopper finally landed, and Ghost gently set you down, still calm and collected. As if carrying someone through a battlefield was just another Tuesday for him.

You collapsed against a crate, gulping down air while Soap and Gaz finally caught up, both of them drenched in sweat, but still laughing.

"Next time," Soap wheezed, leaning against the chopper, "we’re sending ye to yoga. Or a gym. Whichever comes first."

Gaz patted you on the back, offering a grin. "Or you could just ask Ghost to give you piggybacks from now on."

Ghost, still standing tall, gave the briefest of head shakes as he climbed into the chopper. "Never again."

You sighed, your body aching, your pride bruised. But at least you were alive.

The Interrogation: Who Ate Price's Food?!

It was the silence before the storm. You, Soap, Gaz, and Ghost sat in a perfectly straight line in the mess hall, your backs rigid, hands clasped in front of you, as if you were waiting for judgment in a military court.

Across from you stood Captain Price, arms crossed, his signature hat casting a shadow over his face. His eyes moved from one guilty party to the next, narrowing in suspicion. The tension in the room was palpable.

Someone had eaten Price’s food. His personal meal, the one he’d been saving. And now, you were all in deep.

"Alright," Price said slowly, pacing in front of you like an executioner preparing to swing the axe. "Which one of you ate my damn food?"

Silence. No one dared speak. You could hear Gaz breathing next to you, but you weren’t about to crack under pressure. Soap was beside you, stiff as a board, while Ghost sat at the far end of the row, arms crossed, his mask revealing nothing but stone-cold calm.

Price paused, his voice cold. "Nobody’s leaving this room until I get an answer."

Soap was the first to speak, looking around at everyone with a wide-eyed, innocent expression. "Well, it wasn’t me! I wouldn’t touch the Cap’s food, no way. Must’ve been Gaz."

Gaz’s head snapped toward Soap. "Me? I don’t even like whatever it was he had! It’s probably you, you’re always nicking things off people’s plates."

"Mate, I don’t need to steal food!" Soap shot back, pointing an accusatory finger. "I’ve got my own stash. You’re the one who’s always hungry!"

"Oh, please." Gaz rolled his eyes, folding his arms across his chest. "If anyone’s likely to steal something, it’s Soap. Always looking for a little extra grub, aren’t ya?"

The two of them started bickering, and you couldn’t help but glance over at Ghost, who remained silent, his mask hiding any reaction. For a moment, you thought you might get away with it. But then…

Ghost’s gravelly voice cut through the argument. "Soap likes to steal things."

Everyone went silent. Gaz and Soap turned to look at Ghost, eyebrows raised.

"I do not!" Soap protested, throwing his hands up in the air. "What the hell, Ghost?!"

Ghost didn’t flinch. He just repeated, calmly, like it was a fact of life. "Soap likes to steal things."

Soap’s face turned bright red, looking absolutely betrayed. "Ye’re throwin’ me under the bus, mate!"

You held in a laugh, trying to maintain composure as Price’s eyes narrowed again. His gaze swept over the group, waiting for someone to crack.

"Last chance," Price growled, his voice low and dangerous. "If someone doesn’t own up now, you’ll all be doing latrine duty for a month."

You felt the sweat on the back of your neck, the pressure closing in. Soap and Gaz continued blaming each other, both trying to avoid the captain’s wrath. And Ghost? He just sat there like a silent judge, adding nothing but that one damning line.

"Soap likes to steal things."

Price was getting impatient, his eyes moving to you now. You felt them drilling into your soul, waiting for the truth to surface. Your heartbeat quickened, the guilt gnawing at you. You tried to stay strong. You really did. But then…

You broke.

"I DID IT!" The words burst out of your mouth before you could stop them. "I ate your food, okay?! I was hungry, it was just sitting there, and I thought… I thought maybe you wouldn’t notice."

The room went dead silent. Soap, Gaz, and Ghost all turned to you in shock, mouths hanging open. You could feel their disbelief. Even Ghost’s posture shifted slightly, like he hadn��t expected you to actually confess.

Price’s eyes softened a little, though he tried to maintain his stern expression. He exhaled slowly, shaking his head. "You did it, huh?"

You nodded, your guilt heavy on your shoulders. "Yeah… I did. I’m sorry, Cap."

Price leaned back, crossing his arms, and for a moment you thought you were done for. But instead, he let out a long, drawn-out sigh, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Can’t stay mad at ya," he muttered, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

The boys froze, their jaws dropping in unison. No way.

"Wait, WHAT?" Soap blurted out, throwing his hands in the air. "Yer not mad at her?!"

Gaz’s eyes widened, and he waved a hand dramatically toward you. "But she ate your food! The food you’ve been saving! You’d have us scrubbing toilets for a month if it were one of us!"

"Exactly!" Soap added, his voice climbing in pitch. "Where’s the justice, Cap? Ye’re goin’ easy on her!"

Ghost didn’t say anything, but the way he crossed his arms told you he was equally as annoyed, even if his mask didn’t show it.

Price shrugged, a half-smile still on his face. "What can I say? She owned up. And… well, it’s different with her."

Soap gaped at you, pointing dramatically. "Different?! The devil eats yer food, and ye don’t even bat an eye?!"

Gaz threw his hands up in exasperation. "If that was me, I’d be scrubbing latrines for a year!"

You tried to hide your grin as Soap and Gaz continued their protests, but it was impossible not to enjoy their frustration. Meanwhile, Ghost finally broke his silence one more time, his voice completely deadpan.

"Soap likes to steal things."

The entire table erupted into laughter—well, everyone except Soap, who just stared at Ghost with wide, frustrated eyes. "Seriously, mate!?"

Ghost didn’t respond, just shrugged, as if the matter was settled. You couldn’t help but laugh, feeling a mix of relief and amusement at the chaos you’d caused.

Price just shook his head, still smiling. "Alright, alright, settle down. But next time, I won’t be so lenient. Now get out of my sight before I change my mind."

As you stood to leave, Soap muttered under his breath, "This is favoritism. Pure and simple."

Gaz patted him on the back. "You’d be scrubbing toilets right now if it were you."

Soap crossed his arms, fuming. "Aye, but I wouldn’t have eaten his food in the first place!"

You shot him a playful grin. "Well, maybe next time you’ll get lucky."

Ghost’s voice cut in one last time as you all walked out of the mess hall. "Or you’ll just steal something."

Soap groaned, but you couldn’t help but laugh. That was a victory for the ages.

Dad Jokes and Drunken Laughter

It was one of those rare off days where everyone had decided to kick back and relax. The mess hall was buzzing with a low hum of conversation, and a few scattered drinks had loosened everyone up. Gaz had taken it upon himself to entertain the troops, determined to get Captain Price to laugh with his latest batch of jokes.

“Alright, everyone, listen up!” Gaz called out, standing on a chair for added effect. “Why did the scarecrow win an award?”

Price looked up from his meal, raising an eyebrow but not quite convinced. “Why, Gaz?”

“Because he was outstanding in his field!” Gaz declared, his voice booming with enthusiasm.

A couple of snickers rippled through the room, but Price merely shook his head, a hint of a smile threatening but ultimately failing to appear.

“Not bad,” Price replied, but his tone was flat.

Gaz sighed dramatically, running a hand through his hair. “Okay, tough crowd. Here’s another one. What do you call fake spaghetti?”

Price crossed his arms, bracing himself for whatever punchline was coming next. “I don’t know, what?”

“An impasta!” Gaz said, practically beaming with confidence.

This time, you were sitting a few tables away, blissfully tipsy from a few too many drinks. Your laughter erupted, loud and contagious. “That’s a good one, Gaz! I love it!” you shouted, wiping tears of mirth from your eyes.

“See?” Gaz said, a spark of hope igniting. “At least someone appreciates my humor!”

But Price just rolled his eyes, trying to focus on his meal, while Soap, slumped over at the table, was fast asleep, his head resting on his arms, oblivious to the whole thing.

Gaz wasn’t ready to give up. He continued, “Alright, alright, here’s a classic. Why don’t skeletons fight each other?”

“Why?” Price replied flatly.

“Because they don’t have the guts!” Gaz exclaimed, arms flailing in excitement.

You doubled over with laughter again, clutching your stomach as the alcohol buzzed through you, amplifying the hilarity of the situation. “Oh my God, Gaz! You’re killing me!”

Price still didn’t crack a smile. “Gaz, I swear if you keep this up…”

“Okay, I’m just warming up,” Gaz said, defiant but feeling the pressure. “Here’s another! What do you call cheese that isn’t yours?”

“Seriously?” Price groaned, clearly not in the mood for a cheese pun.

“Nacho cheese!” Gaz said, expecting at least a smirk this time.

You were nearly rolling on the floor now, howling with laughter. “He’s got you there, Cap!”

But Price remained stone-faced, the faintest flicker of irritation crossing his features. Gaz could feel his confidence waning. “This isn’t working…” he muttered under his breath, throwing his hands up in defeat.

Just then, Ghost, who had been leaning against the wall in the corner of the room, stepped forward. His presence commanded attention, and Gaz looked at him in disbelief. “You? You think you can do better?”

Ghost shrugged, his eyes narrowing as he contemplated the challenge. “Let me give it a shot.”

Gaz raised an eyebrow, skeptical but intrigued. “You think you can make Price laugh?”

Ghost glanced at Price, who was now eyeing him curiously. “Alright, here goes nothing. What did the dad say to the kids when they asked for a joke?”

You and Gaz leaned in closer, eager to hear what he would say. Price, still looking uninterested, merely glanced up, curiosity piqued.

Ghost smirked slightly beneath his mask. “I don’t know, but I can’t tell it to you—because it’s a dad joke!”

The room fell silent for a brief moment, and then it happened. Price let out a loud, hearty laugh that echoed throughout the mess hall, shaking his head in disbelief. “That was terrible!” he exclaimed, wiping a tear from his eye.

Gaz’s jaw dropped. “Wait, what? You’re laughing at that?”

You erupted into another fit of laughter, nearly falling out of your chair. “Ghost! You did it! You made him laugh!”

“See?” Ghost replied coolly, not missing a beat. “Told you comedy isn’t for everyone.”

Gaz couldn’t believe it. “I’m done! This is rigged!”

Meanwhile, Soap stirred from his slumber at the table, bleary-eyed and confused. “What’s happening? Is it a celebration or a funeral?” he mumbled, rubbing his face as he blinked around the room.

“Just your average rainy day comedy hour,” you said, still giggling uncontrollably. “Ghost just made Price laugh, and Gaz is in denial!”

Soap squinted at Gaz, who looked utterly defeated. “Well, mate, maybe you should’ve just told a dad joke too!”

“Thanks for the support, Soap,” Gaz said, rolling his eyes.

Ghost crossed his arms, satisfied with the outcome. “I guess some jokes just land differently.”

“Or maybe you just need to embrace the art of dad humor,” you added, still chuckling.

Gaz slumped back in his chair, sighing dramatically. “I’ll stick to my day job, thank you very much. This isn’t for me.”

“Better luck next time, buddy,” Soap murmured, finally finding a comfortable position to doze back off.

As the laughter faded and the rain continued to patter against the windows, you all relaxed into the camaraderie of the moment, realizing that sometimes the best humor comes from the most unexpected places.

Objective: Take care of Ghost. Mission status: FUBAR.

“Alright, lads, gather ‘round!” Soap announced dramatically, spreading out a hand-drawn map on the table like they were about to take down an enemy stronghold. “We’ve got ourselves a top-priority mission today.”

Gaz leaned over, eyeing the crude drawings on the paper. “Is this a tactical map, or did a toddler go wild with crayons?”

“Shut it, Gaz! This is serious!” Soap huffed, pointing to a sketch of Ghost with a giant thermometer in his mouth. “Ghost is sick. It’s our duty—no, our mission—to take care of him.”

You, leaning against the table with arms crossed, raised an eyebrow. “He’s Ghost, Soap. The man survived worse things than a cold. He’ll be fine.”

Gaz chuckled. “Yeah, but if Price gives him the day off, you know it’s bad.”

Soap nodded solemnly. “Exactly. And now we’ve gotta handle it.”

You glanced over at Ghost’s room, where you’d already heard grumpy muttering and the occasional sound of furniture moving. “I’ll handle this,” you said confidently, turning toward the door.

Soap shook his head, grabbing your arm. “Negative, lass. This is a team effort. We’ve got a plan.” He slapped the map with a serious expression.

“A plan?” you echoed, half-laughing.

“Aye. Gaz already bought all the supplies we need—cold meds, soup, blankets… everything a sick soldier could ask for.”

Gaz held up a grocery bag filled with what looked like half a pharmacy. “Got the essentials. Manflu, we’re ready.”

“And Price gave him the day off, so we’ve got the whole day to focus on taking care of him,” Soap added with a nod, proud of their combined efforts.

You couldn’t help but smile at their enthusiasm, but you already knew this wasn’t going to be easy. Ghost didn’t exactly strike you as the type to accept help. “And where do I come in?”

Soap grinned. “You’re the muscle.”

“Oh, this is gonna be fun,” you muttered, shaking your head as you prepared for battle.

Phase One: Enter the Ghost’s lair.

You approached Ghost’s door, knocking lightly before stepping inside, followed closely by Soap and Gaz, who were already looking far too excited for this. Ghost was slouched in his chair, arms crossed, and wearing a blanket like a cape. His mask was still on, but you could tell from his posture that he was miserable.

"Ghost," Soap began, voice overly sympathetic. "We’ve come to take care of ye, L.T."

Ghost’s eyes narrowed beneath the mask. “I don’t need takin’ care of. Get out.”

"Aw, come on, Ghost!" Soap pouted, dramatically putting a hand on his chest. "Yer breakin’ my heart, rejectin’ us like this."

Gaz held up the grocery bag. “We brought you soup. And meds. And tissues. Just let us help.”

"I don’t want your bloody soup," Ghost growled, his voice raspier than usual.

You took a deep breath, stepping forward. "Look, you’re sick, and we’re here to help. Just take the day off and let us do our job."

Ghost’s eyes met yours, and you could see the stubbornness already building. "I’m fine," he grunted, standing up, still wrapped in the blanket like some sort of grumpy king.

"Sit down!" you ordered, pointing back at the chair. "You’re not going anywhere."

"Make me," Ghost muttered, voice dark, but you weren’t intimidated.

"Don’t tempt me, Simon," you shot back, locking eyes with him.

Soap jumped in, trying to mediate. "Come on, L.T. She’s just trying to—"

Ghost turned to Soap, eyes narrowing. "And you. What’s with the bloody plan? I’m not some helpless recruit. I can handle a cold."

Soap put a hand over his heart, pretending to look wounded. "But ye hurt me, L.T. I just wanted to help ye through this difficult time."

Ghost just stared at him, unmoved. “Go help yourself.”

At this point, Gaz was suppressing a grin, clearly enjoying the chaos. You, however, were about to lose patience. "Ghost, you’re being ridiculous. Just sit down and let us help."

He folded his arms tighter, standing his ground. "I don’t need help."

"Well, too bad," you snapped, stepping forward again. "You’re getting it whether you like it or not."

For a moment, it was a standoff—Ghost versus the three of you, with Soap looking like he was on the verge of tears at the rejection, and Gaz struggling to keep a straight face.

Finally, Ghost sighed, slumping back into his chair like a defeated villain. "Fine. But no fussing over me."

Soap’s face lit up like it was Christmas. "Aye! Mission success!"

Phase Two: The Battle of the Blanket.

Soap tried to drape another blanket over Ghost, who immediately tossed it back at him. "I don’t need another bloody blanket, MacTavish!"

"You do," Soap insisted. "It’s cold in here."

"It’s not," Ghost shot back, clearly annoyed.

You stood by, watching the exchange like it was a comedy show, while Gaz was trying and failing to hide his amusement. “This is gold,” he muttered under his breath.

"Just take the meds," you said, trying to end the stand-off. You held out the cold medicine. "It’ll help with your sore throat."

Ghost glared at the pills like they were poison. "I don’t need that either."

"Yes, you do," you insisted, crossing your arms. "Or I’ll shove them down your throat myself."

For a moment, it looked like Ghost might argue again, but then he sighed, taking the pills with a reluctant grumble. "Bloody hell, this is torture."

Soap’s face was scrunched up in concern. "But ye don’t hate me, right, L.T.? Ye just don’t like the help?"

Ghost didn’t respond, just gave Soap a look that said everything: I don’t like any of you right now.

Phase Three: Victory… Almost.

Eventually, after what felt like hours of cajoling, Ghost finally settled down on his bed with the blanket (which he only accepted after you threatened him again). Soap was sitting beside him, looking emotionally drained. “Ye hurt me with yer rejection, Ghost,” Soap muttered, shaking his head dramatically. “But I forgive ye.”

Gaz leaned against the wall, snickering. "This has been the best day ever."

You were sitting on the other side of Ghost’s bed, arms crossed. "See? Was that so hard?"

Ghost, still grumpy, glared at you all. "I hate every single one of you."

"But we love you, L.T.," Soap replied, patting his shoulder.

Ghost groaned, pulling the blanket over his head, and mumbled something unintelligible.

You stood up, grinning at the sight of him finally giving in. "Mission accomplished, boys. Ghost is officially on bed rest."

"About damn time," Gaz laughed, giving you a mock salute.

As you all filed out of Ghost’s room, leaving him to rest, Soap let out a long, exaggerated sigh. "That was the hardest mission I’ve ever been on. He’s a tough nut to crack."

"Yeah," you said, chuckling. "But we got him in the end."

As the door closed behind you, you heard Ghost mutter one last grumble from beneath his blanket. "Next time, I’ll take my chances with the flu."

The Rookie, The Flirt, and the Great Toilet Punishment

It was an ordinary day on base, just another routine mission debrief finished, and everyone was unwinding in the mess hall. You were sipping your coffee when you noticed something… odd. Across the room, the new rookie—let’s call her Private Henderson—was making eyes at none other than Gaz.

“Oh my God,” you muttered under your breath, leaning closer to Soap, who was munching on a snack beside you. “Soap, do you see what I’m seeing?”

Soap blinked and followed your gaze. His eyes widened as Henderson gave Gaz a smile that could melt concrete. “No bloody way,” Soap whispered, his snack forgotten. “That rookie’s flirting with Gaz?”

You nodded dramatically. “She totally is. I swear, if she twirls her hair or bites her lip, I’m calling it confirmed.”

Soap’s face darkened instantly, like storm clouds rolling over a sunny day. “How… how could this happen? Gaz? Getting flirted with first? It can’t be. It won’t be!”

The snack in his hand crumbled as Soap clenched his fist. You raised an eyebrow at him, trying not to laugh. “Uh, Soap? You okay?”

Soap stood up abruptly, his voice lowering like he was planning some sinister revenge. “This is unacceptable. There’s no way Gaz gets the girl before me. I won’t allow it. Team meeting. Now.”

The Team Meeting of Doom

Ten minutes later, the entire team—Soap, Gaz, Ghost, and you—were assembled in the meeting room like it was some kind of military tribunal. Soap paced back and forth, seething. You and Ghost exchanged glances, trying to stifle your grins, while Gaz looked utterly confused.

“What’s this all about?” Gaz asked, looking between you and Soap.

Soap stopped pacing and pointed an accusing finger at him. “You. You, Sergeant Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick, are under suspicion.”

Gaz blinked. “Suspicion of what?”

“Of getting flirted with!” Soap declared, his voice full of betrayal. “And worse… before me!”

You burst out laughing, covering your mouth as you tried to stop, but the whole situation was too ridiculous. Ghost, on the other hand, stayed still as a statue, his arms crossed, but you swore you saw the corner of his mouth twitch.

Gaz leaned back in his chair, smirking now that he realized where this was going. “Wait, hold on. Are you jealous because a rookie might be interested in me?”

“Might?” Soap scoffed, his Scottish accent thicker with outrage. “She’s flirtin’ with ye, mate! Smilin’, giving ye the eyes. It’s treason!”

Gaz leaned forward, all smug. “What can I say? I’ve got the charm.”

Soap looked like he was going to pass out from the injustice. “I—this is outrageous! I’m charming! I’ve got the accent! How does this happen?”

You, still wiping tears from your laughter, leaned over to Soap. “It’s okay, Soap. Maybe she likes the quiet, brooding types.”

Gaz grinned wider. “Or maybe she just knows quality when she sees it.”

Soap was on the verge of losing it when Ghost finally broke his silence, his deep voice cutting through the room. “Women are scary.”

Everyone turned to look at him, and you gasped audibly. “Ghost! How could you say that?”

Ghost shrugged. “They are.”

Soap nodded like Ghost had just confirmed the greatest truth of the universe. “Aye, Ghost is right. Women are scary. Beautiful, but terrifying.”

You gasped again, twice as loud this time. “Soap! What is this slander?”

Soap turned to you, trying to sound all deep and wise. “Women are devils. But… hot ones.”

You gasped again, clutching your chest. “I can’t believe this slander. Hot devils?”

Gaz, now fully enjoying himself, leaned back in his chair. “Women are liars, but… I let them lie to me.”

The gasp that left your lips this time was so exaggerated, it could’ve won an award. “Gaz! How could you?”

Before anyone could add to the chaos, the door to the meeting room swung open. Captain Price stood there, arms crossed, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion and annoyance. “What the hell is going on in here?”

Soap, Ghost, and Gaz snapped to attention, but you were still reeling from the drama. You all stood there in silence, staring at Price like kids who’d been caught stealing cookies.

“Well?” Price asked, his voice low and menacing.

Soap, unable to help himself, pointed at Gaz. “He’s bein’ flirted with, Cap! By the rookie!”

Price’s eyes narrowed. “And?”

“I don’t like it,” Soap said flatly.

Price sighed heavily, rubbing his temples like he had an incoming migraine. “So you’ve wasted my time with this? You’ve dragged Ghost, Gaz, and the poor lass into some love triangle nonsense?”

“It’s not a triangle,” you corrected, trying not to laugh again. “It’s just… a weird, jealous spiral.”

Price shook his head. “I’ve had enough of this. I don’t care who’s flirting with who. You lot… will be on toilet duty for the rest of the week.”

There was a collective groan from all the guys, but you just snickered, half-expecting it.

Gaz raised his hand, trying to look innocent. “Even me, Cap?”

Price narrowed his eyes. “Especially you, Sergeant. You’re all in this together.”

Ghost chuckled quietly as you all shuffled out of the meeting room, but Soap looked like his heart had been broken. “I just don’t understand, Gaz. I thought I was the ladies’ man.”

Gaz clapped him on the back with a grin. “Better luck next time, mate.”

You, still giggling, leaned over to Soap. “Hey, don’t worry. You’ll bounce back. Just… maybe don’t call women ‘hot devils’ next time.”

Soap sighed dramatically. “Aye, lass, ye might be right. But… they are.”

You gasped one last time, just for effect, as you all headed to your unfortunate punishment.

MAYBE PART 2, maybe, a big big big big maybe.

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