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sim0nril3y · 1 year ago

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Handy Man

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Scenario: Simon begins to notice that some things around your flat are a little worse for wear, so he makes it his job to fix them. Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), established relationship, smut, p in v, very little foreplay, dirty talk, praise, cumplay, creampie, canon-typical swearing.

The sound of sizzling frying in the pan seemed to become background noise around your idle chatter, using a spatula to move and flip it around the pan whilst you spoke. “… and she was telling me…” Even your incessant talking became background noise instead all that Simon could focus on was that sound of the drip, drip, drip of the tap. His eyes focusing on it like it was a target he needed to eliminate. Drip, drip, drip it mocked him again and his fingers tightened on the mug in his grip.

Did you not hear that? Did it not drive you fucking insane? Simon’s eyes flickered over to where you stood with your back to him, continuing to natter mindlessly. “… I was thinking that she had to be joking…” Then you laughed whilst drip, drip, drip consumed his attention again. “… there was no bloody way…” It didn’t faze you at all. No, you simply kept your attention on the bacon in the pan that was swiftly becoming burned. “… Oh, and then-”

“Love.” His voice was tight and stern as you glanced over your shoulder at him, eyes bright and inviting, reminding him that you didn’t think like he did, you didn’t obsess over the tiny details and that was something he loved about you. “You, uh… you got any tools 'round here?” He asked, standing in a moment to approach the offending tap, observing it, moving it, turning it on and off a couple times. “Tools?” You quizzed before frowning heavily, moving the bacon aside and switching off the hob. “Oh.” The opening a stiff looking drawer to produce the oldest looking screwdriver he’d ever seen. “I have this…” Announcing like some accomplishment.

Under his breath he muttered. “Fuckin’ hell.” Holding the tool in hand, gripping the handle hard before throwing it aside uselessly. “Stop fussing.” Your voice announced then, placing down a plate that held freshly made bacon sandwich where he had originally been sitting. “Whatever you’re obsessing about…” You took a hearty bite of your own sandwich. “It can wait…” Another bite. “Until you’ve eaten…” Then licking your fingers as you grabbed the condiments from the fridge and held it out to him. “Red or brown?”

Simon’s shower had been everything but relaxing. The water had been cold for far longer than he had appreciated and directly above him the light flickered so horrendously that for a moment Simon could have convinced himself he was at a rave. “Light is flickering in your bathroom.” Simon announced, towel wrapped around his waist as he stepped into the lounge to find you. “What’s that?” You quizzed from where you stood observing a canvas, then turning to him. “The light. In the bathroom. It’s flickering.” He reiterated in a low voice whilst your eyes were lingering on his broad chest, watching the water trickle down his skin. “Oi. Pay attention.” Simon bit out playfully.

Snapping you from your trance a low hum came from your throat. “The… light…” Then out made a small noise of recognition. “It’s actually always done that.” The statement followed a careless shrug as you turned your back to him to regain focus on your painting. “You told your landlord?” He asked with concern. “Uh, yeah…” The response was quick and Simon knew you too well. “Think I’ve mentioned it before. Said he tried to fix it but it was some bigger wiring problem, or something…” Another shrugged and it bothered Simon significantly.

He had a problem with you living in a place like this. It wasn’t a good area to begin to live in. Outside teenagers screamed and caused mayhem all night, idiots drove cars around too fast and noisy at night and others got up to shady things away from prying eyes. Too many times Simon had left your flat to find never seen before dents in his car or a bunch of teenagers loitering around it. It didn't scare him but he didn’t like the thought of them playing the same tricks on you.

Besides all that, the flat just wasn’t up to standard for you. It was tiny and cluttered and half of it didn’t work or was in the process of falling apart, all that on top of knowing that you rent was way too high for what you were getting. Simon knew he needed to fix this.

That evening a frown pressed to his lips as he walked into the bedroom with a couple glasses of water. Placing one down beside you he pressed a kiss to your hairline. Then moving to the other side of the bed Simon stopped by the radiator. His hand reaching out to touch it as he frowned. The heating was on full blast everywhere else, so why wasn’t this one hot at all? He removed his hand and touched a different part and his frown intensified. “This rad isn’t working…” He mentioned as you glanced up from where you were rubbing a sweet smelling moisturiser into your legs, as if you could be anymore soft and supple, Simon lamented internally. “Isn’t it?” “You didn’t know? Babe, it’s stone bloody cold.” Then pressing his hand to it again, as if he might have gotten it wrong, but it remained completely unchanged beneath his fingers. “I know that must bother you ‘cause you’re constantly putting your cold feet on me.”

A delicate laugh fell from your lips. “Well, what’s the point of having a warm, strong body beside me if I don’t utilise it?” You jested causing Simon to scowl. “Wind your neck in.” He muttered, before trying to fight the smirk that pulled onto his face. Once again, his eyes focused on the radiator, as if his new targed. Simon mentioned. “Probably needs to be bled. S’not hard. It’s something you should learn to do…”

You simply nodded, continuing your night-time routine that he actually enjoyed watching, by the end you smelt absolutely delicious and he was more than happy to eat you. “Y’know, there isn’t much that works in this flat, babe.” He said then, moving to lay down on the bed beside you, leaning on his side in your direction. “That oven is dodgy. Every tap leaks. Lights flicker. Rads aren’t working….” Then he frowned again, reaching out to rub your knee. “These are things your landlord should be sorting…” For a moment you were quiet and then looked at him with a genuine smile. “I really hadn’t noticed, Si. I think I’ve just gotten used to it.”

It may have been something that you’ve gotten used to, but it certainly wasn’t something that Simon was going to allow. By the time that you woke up the next morning to your dismay Simon was gone from your side. Instead of worrying yourself too much you started your day and decided to put some more work into the canvas that you were obsessing over. Maybe some green? Or… maybe some blue… that would be a nice bit of contrast… what story were you trying to tell with this piece?

A knock interrupted you, placing down your brush and then wandering to open the door and smiling as Simon stood there, toolbox in hand. Your eyes trailed over his frame, looking as handsome as ever and very handy too. “Oh, you here to check my pipes?” You cooed flirtatiously causing Simon to chuckle as he stepped inside, kissing your forehead and muttering. “I think you mean clean your pipes, love…” He corrected you. “I’ll do that later if you’re a good girl and let me work.”

You allowed him as much time to work as you could manage, but as you found him working under your sink, tight dark coloured shirt riding up to reveal the trail of short hair leading down it seemed impossible to resist. “My-my…” You whimpered, your voice quaint and lewd as you sauntered a little further into the kitchen. “That is an awful big hammer you have there~” You purred in a breathy tone. “Maybe I could hold it for you~” “Fuckin’ hell…” Even without seeing him you could hear the smile on his face. “You’re bloody insatiable, love.” Sliding out from the cupboard to look at you standing there, shifting from one foot to the other as if waiting for his command. “Fuck, c’mon then…” He mentioned, lifting his hips off the worn tiled floors and shifting his jeans and underwear down to his upper thighs, cock springing free and slapping against his stomach. “Hurry up.”

Hastily you moved to straddle his thighs, rubbing your clit in tight circles and humming as you warmed yourself up, stroking his cock languidly with your free hand. His eyes rolled back for a second, lower lip gripped between his teeth. “C’mon, baby…” Large hand spanked your hear and a moment later you were lowering yourself onto his hard member, gasping at the way it intruded and stretched your slightly underprepared walls, pressing your hands hard to the wide expanse of his chest as you happily bounced your hips. “Good girl. Good fuckin’ girl. Quicker now.”

The look on your face was completely enchanted with lust and love, unable to form even the most basic of sentence. All you could manage was huffing and puffing, bouncing yourself with an unsteady rhythm. “C’mon, sweetheart. You can do better than that.” Simon grit his teeth, plating his feet on the ground and resisting the urge to begin to fuck up into your relentlessly, if you wanted this then you were gonna work for every fucking second of it. “Go on. Ruin that perfect little cunt on me…” His hands cupping and caressing your hips, feeling the way they faltered and sort his guidance.

In your defence, it was difficult to concentrate on keeping a rhymth with the way your thighs were burning, Simon had a way of keeping you his pillow princess, so times when he made you work for it felt extra hard. Not to mention, the way his cock split you open was mind-numbing, each time you sunk down his cock would press firmly against your special spots before bumping firmly against your cervix, kissing it before sliding back and promising to meet it again mere seconds later.

“S-Simon~” You cried softly, feeling your thighs cramping and pressing your hands firmly into his chest before your desperate eyes found his own. “Simon, please~” The sound was nothing more than a whimper, but it was enough for him to take mercy on your poor worn body. Beginning to thrust up firmly into your tight cunt, locking you into place with a firm hold on your hips. This produced loud gasps and moans beginning to tumble from between your lips, instead of planting your hands into his chest, now your desperately curled his shirt between your fingers. “Ohfuck. Ohfuck.” You cried helplessly.

“C’mon pretty girl.” He muttered coolly, fucking up into you without stopping or pausing, finding lasting stamina that were thankful that he had. “C’mon, get yourself there. You know how. Show me.” He pressed, watching the way your fingers slipped down and began to rub your clit in tight circles, whimpering, leaning forward, panting and then finally. “Simon~” That beautiful noise. Oh, he if he could play it on repeat in his head he fucking would. It was like a fucking lullaby that would coax him into a peaceful sleep everynight.

The way your body convulsed and locked up above his own, Simon observed with adoration, taking in the way your eyes rolled just slightly before sealing closed, mouth popping open, tongue sometimes bit between your teeth, nose scrunching, chest thrumming. It was fucking beautiful. Every second. He wanted to enjoy it over and over, but the way that you tight walls strangled his cock caused him to splutter out a low noise and then begin to shoot his thick load inside whilst your walls milked him for every pump.

There you leant into his body, breathing hard and both completely spent. It was bliss. All his worries had disappeared, the sound of that dripping sink was gone and instead replaced with your adorable whines as you slowly regained composure, smiling down at him so sweetly and carefully sliding from his length and sitting beside him.

For a moment he lay there, his body almost numb and then reaching over to pull your thigh aside and watching the way his cum seeped from your spent walls, convulsing weakly as it dribbled to the floor. “Beautiful.” He commented, closing his eyes for another second and committing that image to memory. “That’ll be me through the rest of this…” Simon mentioned, reopening his eyes and gazing at your cunt one final then and then tucking himself away. “Go on. Off you go. I got work to do.” Climbing back under the sink and resuming his handy work as if he hadn’t just destroyed your sweet cunt.

“Yes, sir~” You cooed, carefully climbing back to your feet and lingering in the doorway. Still sensing your presence Simon spoke without looking. “Thought I told you to bugger off.” Listening to you giggle in response. “Just give me a minute, I’m trying to think of another porny handy man line to use on you…”

Masterlist | Ask | 16-11-2023

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x you #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley cod #simon riley imagine #simon riley smut #simon riley x y/n #ghost mw3 #cod mw2 #ghost simon riley #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #1k

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cutiecusp · 6 months ago

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One Night In Vegas

Waking up in Vegas during a girls weekend away was the perfect way to get over your ex, after finding his dating profile online. However, you expected to wake up alone... Not next to a giant of a man with a familiar tattoo and with his ring on your finger.

TW. Mentions of previous relationship, drunken shenanigans, smut, kissing, consummation of a marriage, talk of tattoos and blood.

Captain John Price x reader.

You roll over, pulling the sheet over your naked body as you stir, the effects of last night making your brain foggy. You knew you should have stopped at a few of those fruity drinks, but with your friends encouragement, you probably had more than you could count.

A low rumble breaks the silence of the hotel room, and a warm arm snakes over the bed and rests on your hip. You feel a warm body press into you from behind, and fear gets stuck in your throat.

You push the hand away and spring out of bed, clutching the sheet to your frame.

"Who are you?" You exclaim, your voice shaky with fear. As far as you could remember, you went to bed alone, not with this huge bear of a man.

You hear him chuckle, and he holds a hand up, a silver band glistening in the morning sun.

"I'm John, but i guess you could call me yours." he smiles.

You look down at your hand, a matching silver band on your finger, and look back at him in shock, unable to speak.

"Why so shy, love? You couldn't wait to make things official last night." he says gruffly, a little pink in the cheeks.

He reaches for you, and you finally take it in that there is a very naked man in your bed, and you are holding the sheet. Your face beet red as you find yourself staring. Your eyes scan over his body, before they settle on a tattoo.. a familiar tattoo..

"Where did you get that tattoo?" you blurt out.

He raises an eyebrow at your question, but you point at his ink.

"141, my brother has the same number, and insignia."

"Now, love. Get dressed and i'll explain everything."

💚

You raise an eyebrow. "Be a gentleman and turn around." you say as you dive into the bathroom. Looking in the mirror, you catch your glossy eyes and as your gaze follows down your body. Various teeth marks and pink marks adorn your neck and chest. You let out a gasp as you take it all in, cheeks flushed as you remembered how you gave yourself to him, again and again.

Your memories come flooding back as you notice fingerprints on your hips, it all ringing in your ears as you remember every detail, every touch, every kiss, every inch of skin explored.

You close your eyes and trail your fingertips over the bruised flesh. Flashes of John over your body, caressing your soft skin, trailing hot, feverish kisses along your neck, fingers intertwined with yours as he rocked his hips against yours, taking pleasure in your bodies.

"From the gasp, i gather you remember," Comes the gruff voice from the doorway. John appears, dressed in jeans and a khaki green t shirt

You scramble to get dressed, and after sliding on your band tee and zipping up your jeans, you throw him a look. Stood tall, your husband takes over the bathroom, his broad shoulders eclipsing you as he turns to face you in the mirror.

Not breaking eye contact, he softly pulls your hair away from your face, and plants a tender kiss on your shoulder.

"I guess i should start with the obvious, love." He huffs, a smile tugging on his upper lip.

"My full name is Captain John Price. i'm in the same unit as your brother, who knew i was in the area and to keep an eye on you."

"Johnny asked- i don't need a BABYSITTER." You roll your eyes. John turns you so you are facing him, your defiant gaze staring up at him.

"Yet here we are, love." His voice rumbles around the tiny room.

He takes your left hand in his, your band heavy on your mind.

"I'll be blunt. If you want an annulment, it'll take 6 days, but as for my part. I'm in. I'm older than the rest of the guys in the unit. I want someone I can settle with."

You scoff, pulling your hand away.

"You want to settle down with me? But we don't know each other?"

John looks in your eyes.

"Do you ever think Johnny didn't talk about you? I know your favourite snack, your favourite colour, movie, what allergies you have, your taste in music, the last time you went to the theatre. And after last night, I know the face you make when you come. I know the taste of you on my fingers, on my tongue. I know you come undone when I kiss your jawline. I know how you like to be made love to."

He pauses.

"A lot more relationships have less. Give me six days. If you still want an annulment. I'll give it to you."

You stand there with your jaw open. Your face flushed, your thoughts scrambled.

"W-why me?" You stutter. Still in shock. The gall of him to be so personal with you.

"Why not you. Clearly you liked something enough to drag me to the Chapel last night. Might I add, you make such a pretty bride." His gaze flickers over your body, a desperate hunger in his eyes.

"And I fear, more than anything, your brother is playing matchmaker. He knows you were single, and he knows I was looking for a partner. So, what do you say? 6 days?. That enough time for you to fall for me?" He teases.

You take in the information. 6 days with John, as your husband. Or back home to a cheating ex and an empty house.

"Deal." You say, holding out your hand.

He scoffs, before taking it into his giant hand, his large fingers enveloping yours, as he pulls you in and places his lips on yours softly.

"Sealed with a kiss, wife."

A/N this is part one. As I feel its long enough already! Part two is being written right now and will be up in a hour. Thank you to all who have supported me so far!!!

Edited to 6 days instead of weeks!

@xoxunhinged @misshugs @thevoiceinyourheadx @frudoo @rynbeerose @muneca-lemon-steppa @shadowdark00 @enjisbf 💚💚💚💚💚💚

#call of duty #call of duty mw2 #fanfiction #fanfic #captain john price x reader #john price x reader #captain john price #john price #john price smut

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echobx · 2 months ago

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Everyone has a Price (part 2) - Rafe × virgin!fem!reader

summary: y/n gets to know about who Rafe is and they get closer as things start to feel a lot more confusing for both of them

word count: 2.2k

warnings: light miscommunication, tiny tiny bit of angst (maybe), fluff

author's note: see when I said "things would pick up pace" I meant after this one, my bad.

kinktober masterlist ✘ series masterlist

“What's this?” you ask as Rafe drops a stack of papers on your still empty breakfast plate. First he makes you dress up and drive up to the main house to be allowed to eat, and then he gives you homework?

“A file. My file,” he says, walking behind you before leaning down over your shoulder, nose brushing past your ear. “You don't like talking about me, but you still gotta know it all to understand why. So, do your work. Build me a case. Impress me,” he rasps, and you wish you weren't turned on by it; by him believing in your potential; by his body so close to your own; by his low voice whispering in your ear.

“How much time do I have?” you ask, and he leans back up, but not before letting his fingertips ghost over the skin on your neck, leaving behind a soft trace of goosebumps.

“Until dinner. I'd like to hear it after in the company of a good glass of Cabernet Sauvignon,” Rafe says while walking along the table and taking his seat. “Then we'll see.”

After a fulfilling breakfast, with pancakes and coffee and fruits in abundance, you decide to retreat to his library to work on the little project he gave you. The hours seem to flow as you work through the file and research everything you need to know to build your case, his case.

“Dinner is ready, Miss,” someone says from behind you, but you don't even register it, too indulged in your work as if you will be graded on it. But from all you know about Rafe now, that might as well be the case.

“If you don't come to dinner, I'm gonna have to bring dinner to you,” Rafe speaks up, putting a plate down on your notes, and you finally lift your head to look up at him. Your hair is messy, and you probably look like you haven't slept in days, although it's only been a few- it's been 14 hours since you had breakfast, but it felt like only four of them had actually passed.

“I'm so sorry, I didn't see how late it is,” you apologize and start scrambling your papers together.

“Am I that interesting?” he chuckles, as if he doesn't know the answer to that already. His case is far more complex than you expected when he gave you the task.

“My mind likes to focus on details. This was complicated. Things don't add up,” you tell him shyly, after all you had just found out you are a lot more weary of him.

“Maybe I can shed light on it,” Rafe smiles, taking the papers from your hands and walking over to the fireplace to throw them into the flames.

“Hey!” you cry out, jumping to your feet and trying to stop him.

“You don't need those anymore,” he stops you from getting to the fire and using the fire poker to save a few yet unburnt pages out of the growing flames. His hands are tight around your wrists, pushing you back as your body keeps pushing forward.

“You can't do that! I spent all day on those notes!” you hiss, angry and annoyed and so very mad at this man who is basically holding you hostage if you think about the contract you signed.

“My house, my rules,” Rafe smirks, he likes to see you fight and as soon as you notice you stop, unwinding your hands from his loosened grip and taking a step back. “Good. Will you eat now?”

You snort disapprovingly, but walk back towards the sofa and take your seat anyway. The turkey sandwich tastes incredible, and you hate everything about it. You hate the fact that you can't be sure how dangerous the man across from you really is. You hate the fact that, even now, you are still incredibly turned on by him. You hate the fact that you don't actually feel that bad about losing all the work, hell, people pulled worse pranks on you in school before.

“You don't need to drink it, but it's expensive and one of my favorites,” Rafe says while swirling the red liquid in the bulky glass.

“I don't really drink wine,” you say, but take your glass up anyway. Mirroring his movement, you swirl it a bit, take a long whiff and then a small taste of the liquid.

“That's blackberry in the head and a bit of vanilla and spices in the back,” Rafe explains the taste that you would rather describe as “not drinkable.”

“Uh-huh,” you nod, sitting the glass down and pulling your legs up on the sofa. The clock above the fireplace reads 1:27am, usually you'd be asleep for at least two hours at this point.

“Am I guilty?” Rafe asks after a few minutes of silence had settled between you two.

“That depends on what the charges are,” you say calmly, looking at him just like you would at a client you got assigned in a practice trial once.

“What would you say are the charges?” The smile on Rafe's lips is imperceptible.

“Complicity in one, if not two or more, murders. Drug abuse,” I said, and he smiled into his glass while taking another sip.

“And your verdict on those?”

“Well, you grew up rich with little to no consequences for your actions I presume, considering you were probably just like the guys at school who still act like that- I'd say the drug abuse might be rightfully there. I don't know what's your style, but I'm gonna guess either coke or pills, but definitely one of those. Seems like you got clean though a few years back, so I award you that. Most people don't get clean and stay clean,” you say, and he nods, but doesn't say a thing.

“The murder thing is tricky, because there is evidence suggesting you were more than just there when it happened, but the statement of the official murderer contradicts this clear evidence. So, unless the evidence is foolproof and one can prove that your dad didn't do it, you'd be guilty of at least one murder.” You finish, and he nods again, but his hand is grasping the glass harsher, his jaw is clenched and there's a dangerous glare in his eyes that almost makes you want to run away from him. Almost.

“What do you believe?” he says after a few minutes.

You take a moment to think, evaluating your situation and the knowledge you have of the case, of him. “If I was your lawyer, I would advise you to plead the 5th unless the question aimed at you will definitely make you seem more innocent. I would tell you to not tell me if you did it, unless you are telling the truth that you didn't, because I don't wanna be prosecuted for lying in court. I would find a way to prove your innocence, even if it means dragging down the rest of your family. Even if you are secretly guilty.”

“Why?” he asks, genuinely surprised by your answer.

“Because I'm going to be a good lawyer. A lawyer who does her job and serves her clients. I can't afford to be nice and 100% lawful. If I have to play dirty, I have to play dirty. I can still be a good person later, once I have my own firm and enough money to not care,” you tell him about what you had always planned for your future. Usually people are disgusted by the way you view the world, but Rafe doesn't. He looks even more intrigued by you than the night before.

“Well, then you should get your degree asap,” he smiles, getting up from his seat and walking over to you. “May I?” he asks, and you nod before he sits down by your side.

“Are you scared?” he asks, eyes raking over you as you sit there, hands placed on your knees and staring out front.

“No,” you lie, and he chuckles.

“I don't like when you lie to me, but I understand. I would be scared too.”

“What are you going to do now?” you ask and turn your head to look at him.

“I need you to know that I will never hurt you, not unless you ask for it,” Rafe whispers, brushing your hair away from your face. “So, there's really no need to be scared about that part.”

“I understand,” you nod, looking down at the glimpse of chest that is poking through the buttoned gaps of his shirt.

“And I think I would love to replace my lawyer with you as soon as you're done,” he says, and your eyes go wide.

“Uhhhh- What?”

“You heard me,” he whispers, his hand coming up to cradle your jaw. “I need someone I can trust, someone who will do what I say unless they know better. You don't like being told what to do.” Rafe's smile is intoxicating, drawing you in like a trap. It's like he's dangling a delicious piece of Gruyère in front of your face and your tiny mouse brain cannot do anything but grasp for it.

That's why you don't mind when he leans in to kiss you, tentatively letting you know that he will keep you safe no matter what it takes. And against better judgment, you believe it. You taste the wine and a hint of his dinner on his tongue, a different one than the one you had. Yet, you can't help but feel like he is holding back to not overwhelm you. His hands never leave your neck, and yours never travel from your seat to his chest to pull him in, even though you wish for it. Deliberation seems to be your and his virtue that night when he pauses and lets you catch your breath before standing up and telling you goodnight.

Grayson talks about the stars while driving you back to the pool house, but your mind is occupied with what happened. You spend most of the night lying in bed, throwing yourself from left to right trying to find sleep, while your mind won't stop reminiscing over how it felt to kiss him.

When you started corresponding with Rafe, you thought it would be easy. You thought he would invite you, take your virginity and send you back home with a bag full of cash. What you definitely w

could've never expected, is to lie awake imagining being with him based on a simple kiss. The last time this happened to you, you were 17 and in high school, after your first kiss with Tyler D. from Biology class, but nothing had come of that, because if it had, you wouldn't be here now.

It's 4am when the landline phone on your nightstand rings.

“I can't sleep,” Rafe says quietly, and you don't know if you are dreaming or not.

“Me neither,” you whisper into the mouthpiece. It's exactly how your 16-year-old self had imagined Tyler to be, just that Rafe Cameron is nearly 30 and you are still in college.

“This isn't going like I had planned it,” he laughs softly, and you feel your cheeks heat.

“How so?” You gnaw at your lip as you listen to him, your eyes closed and picturing him by your side instead of on the other side of the phone.

“Well, I thought I was just saving you from a horrible experience with a guy I know, and maybe, if you wanted to, and only then to actually do something. But you are more intriguing than initially expected.”

“I didn't even say much,” you giggle.

“That's the worst part,” Rafe sighs. “You should talk more.”

“I talk when I find it necessary,” you say and turn to lie on your stomach, twirling some of your hair between your fingers.

“You never tried the set on,” Rafe rasps, and you stay quiet for a moment, debating what the right move would be. “I would come down there right now and make you wear it, but we're not there, yet, I'm afraid,” he says, and you take a deep breath before getting up and stepping towards the dresser that still had the box on top of it.

“How expensive was this?” you ask, the phone is wedged between your shoulder and chin as you push the lid of the box back and pull the underwear out.

“You would want me to return it if you knew,” Rafe chuckles. “Will you put it on?”

“Will you show me around tomorrow?” you counter and he laughs.

“Sure. I'll show you around.”

“Good. Maybe I'll put it on then. Not now,” you grin when you hear him groan, falling back into his pillows with a loud thud, while you put the underwear on the bench at the end of the bed.

“You're killing me,” Rafe sighs.

“Says the killer,” you joke, but he goes quiet for a while. “It was a joke, Rafe,” you apologize, but a moment later the line disconnects and no matter how often you try to call him back, he won't pick up.

please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho

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unclewaynemunson · 2 years ago

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'No no no Steve wait, don't throw that a...way.' The end of the sentence died on Eddie's tongue as the leftover lasagna, basically in slow-motion, tumbled out of the dish and into the bin. Eddie could almost hear a funeral march start to play over the dull thud and the sound of crushing eggshells.

'Fuck,' he said, emphatically.

'That was barely half a portion,' Steve remarked with a careless shrug while putting the empty dish back on the kitchen counter.

And Eddie groaned, tried to count to ten in his head but didn't even make it to two.

'I was gonna have that for lunch, man, add a slice of bread and an apple and I'd have a decent meal!'

There must have been something in his voice that told Steve that he wasn't just being overly dramatic but genuinely annoyed, because his face dropped and he shot a quick glance at the dish, as if that would magically summon the lasagna back into it, untouched by gross eggshells and coffee dregs.

'Seriously, that was perfectly good food, why would you throw that away?!'

'I can buy you lunch tomorrow?' Steve suggested sheepishly.

And, well, that hit a sore spot.

'That's not the fucking point!' Eddie exclaimed in frustration. 'I'm not your charity case or some shit, I can take care of my own meals – as long as you don't throw my food away!'

And again, it was like Eddie saw it happen in slow-motion: Steve flinched, took a stumbling step backwards, created as much distance between himself and Eddie as possible in the trailer’s tiny kitchen by bumping his back against the counter; something crossed his face that Eddie had never seen there before. And... shit.

All his frustration dissolved right on the spot and he immediately took another step away from Steve, even though everything inside of him wanted to cross that distance and hold him. He raised his hands in the air, cautious not to move too sudden.

'Steve, I'm not mad at you,' he said, forcing himself to sound as calm as possible despite his heart beating like crazy. 'I got annoyed, sure, but – it's okay. We're okay. You're okay. I didn't wanna hurt you, I promise.'

Steve swallowed, let his eyes dart everywhere except at Eddie's face while he tightly crossed his arms in front of his chest. The fear seemed to have disappeared from his face, replaced by something else; something expertly concealed within seconds. Anyone less well-versed than Eddie in the craft of noticing every little detail about Steve Harrington wouldn't notice; but Eddie did.

'You wanna talk about what happened there?' he asked, hesitant.

Steve didn't answer right away, his eyes still frantically darting around the trailer and his lower lip sucked between his teeth.

'What do you mean?' he finally said.

'Can I come closer?' Eddie asked. He felt like it would be so much easier to have this conversation if he could touch Steve; if he could smell him and have him in his orbit.

Steve nodded; Eddie sighed a breath of a relief and crossed the distance between them to rest his hands against Steve's sides; not quite an embrace, but something grounding for both of them nonetheless.

'I kinda recognized that look in your eyes, I guess,' Eddie quietly admitted. 'And the way you flinched. Like you were scared I was gonna do something bad.'

'I know you wouldn't –'

'I know,' Eddie was quick to reassure him. There was a beat of silence and Eddie wondered how much he should push. But he knew that he needed this conversation to happen, that it would keep gnawing at both of them if they didn't talk about it now.

'It's because of your dad, isn't it?'

Steve nodded, still looking slightly past Eddie.

'I'm sorry.' Eddie exhaled sharply, trying to keep his emotions under control; he knew that aimless anger at Steve's father wouldn't get them anywhere; not here, not right now. 'I mean, I knew he was bad, but I had no idea that it was... like that.'

He could hear Steve breathe out while he stared at some point just above Eddie's head.

'Sometimes I think all that crap is behind me now,' Steve quietly started to explain. 'But then something like this happens and it – it just catches me by surprise, is all. Like I'll never completely be free of the fear.'

Eddie nodded. 'Uncle Wayne, he... He looks a lot like my father - even though he's nothing like him. Took me years to fully trust him. He makes sure to never raise his voice, but still, sometimes when I see him make a sudden movement from the corner of my eyes, I just... freeze. Like it's some kind of instinct that’ll always stay with me.'

Steve finally looked Eddie in his eyes again, stunned and a little bit shocked.

'Your dad, too?'

Eddie nodded. 'Mhm.'

And wordlessly, Steve pulled him closer, until Eddie was enveloped in his warm arms and their chests were pressed against each other. Eddie let his eyes fall shut, breathed in Steve's familiar scent while he nestled his face in the crook of his neck and tightened his own grip around Steve's back.

They stayed like that for minutes, maybe even a whole eternity.

'Should we make rules?' Steve finally asked, in a hesitant voice and without pulling away from their embrace.

'What kind of rules?'

'Like, things to make sure that this doesn't – that we won't get scared. I know we can't promise not to fight, but...' He trailed off; Eddie could feel him shrug his shoulders.

He started slowly stroking one hand up and down over Steve's back. 'What was the thing that got you afraid, earlier?'

'Your loud voice – and the way you stepped into my space, I guess.'

'Okay.' Eddie nodded. 'So no yelling, and we try to keep our distance when shit goes sour. Sound good?'

Steve hummed against Eddie’s neck. 'Yeah. And for you? You mentioned the sudden movements, with Wayne?'

'Yeah, no sudden movements would help,' Eddie admitted.

'Okay, I can do that.'

Eddie squeezed Steve tighter. 'Thank you.'

Steve huffed. 'You're the one who started this conversation; I should be thanking you.'

Eddie lifted his face to press a gentle kiss against Steve's cheek, and another one at the corner of his lips.

'I'm sorry for startling you.'

'That's okay, you couldn't know.'

'Can you stop doing that, please?’ Eddie said with a chuckle. ‘Let me say thank you, let me apologize. Let me take care of you.'

Steve chuckled too; never before had Eddie been so grateful to hear that sound. 'I'll try.'

'You wanna stay the night?'

Steve shuffled, pulled back a little bit so that Eddie could see his face; there was a frown between his eyebrows.

'I'm not sure if I'm in the mood, after, you know...'

'Hey,' Eddie said, softly. 'You can stay the night for other reasons, too, you know. To have some comfort. To fall asleep together. To let me make sure that you're doing alright.'

'You sure?'

'Hell yes.'

Steve's head dropped down to Eddie's shoulder again, and Eddie lifted his hand to comb through his hair.

'Yeah, I'll stay.'

#don't mind me rambling about stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #not sure if / how i should tw this so please lemme know if i should!#stranger things #fruity ficlet #tw implied abuse #tw implied child abuse

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hcsarchive · 1 year ago

Text

BOXER

nct dream (hint of the boyz)

details ␥ fem!reader x boxer!jaemin (ft. haechan)

genre ␥ smut with a plot, fluff?, lil angst +

━ after getting cheated on, you get invited to an underground boxing match but you stumble into some dangerous territory and that’s where things take a turn.

warnings ➠ explicit language, drugs, alcohol, overstimulation, flirty banter, praise kink, threesomes, corruption kink, fingering, dry humping, knives, rope bunny, blood, cheating, violence, and if there is more please let me know. *some may not be included in all parts*

MINORS DNI

!!these characters are completely fiction and do no represent the idol!!

A/N

Hope you enjoy my first piece of writing! This has been sitting in my drafts for over a year and i finally decided to post it.

part two

PART ONE

You and your boyfriend Sunwoo are on the couch watching a movie until his phone goes off. “babe I have to get going, chanhee will be here soon” he kisses your cheek and he leaves since he was already dressed before you even arrived.

Recently every night before your Friday night shift, you seem to notice he leaves at the same time and uses the same excuses to leave. Of course, you want to hang out with your best friend but you also want to be with him. You hardly get the chance to spend time together and the only time you see one another is after classes and twice a week which is not enough.

You watch him from the corner of your eyes as he gets ready to leave. Where is he going and why isn’t he telling you? Tears start forming around your eyes but holding them until he leaves is the best option. Speaking up about what is hurting you isn’t the easiest to do.

You are tired of Sunwoo throwing you around. He was the perfect boyfriend up until recently he started to be weird and his anger was getting unmanageable. One wrong thing you’ll say and he will start blaming you for everything which made you mad because you tried your best to be good to him.

Sunwoo hated seeing you cry, it angered him….

The door opens and Chanhee spots you crying once again. “Sunwoo again,” he says while rolling his eyes and dropping his bag on the floor. “Come here y/n” he pets your head as you’re crying.

“He left again and I didn’t even get the chance to say anything. Do you know where he goes” you look up at him and he nods no.

“Next Friday is our 6 month anniversary and if he leaves again we are over. I can’t hold on any longer I’m sorry” Both of you stay there in silence while tears fall down your eyes.

“I’m tired of seeing you hurt, do what is best for you and the rest I can take care of” Chanhee wipes your tears and stands up to get you a glass of water.

Two figures come in and Chanhee shoos them away. “Whyyyy we want to spend time with y/n too” Hyunjae screams “y/n tell your bff to stop hogging you” Jacob joins in. You laugh at the tiny blue-haired boy trying to push two buff men out of the living room.

“Chanhee it’s ok I’m fine now,” you say standing up and walking towards them.

“Did Sunwoo leave already? He was supposed to carpool with us” Hyunjae furrows his eyebrows. Chanhee looks at you and with that look, you already know what to do.

“He didn’t mention he was going with you guys” chanhee starts.

“Did he say anything to you?” Jacob points at you.

“Nope he just received a text and told me he has to go” you respond.

“Weird…do any of you want to come instead?” Hyunjae whips out 3 tickets.

Chanhee takes them and smirks because he did overhear his roommate say something about this the other day “I’ll pass- take y/n instead, I can cover your shift”

You grab the tickets and it’s a ticket with an unrecognizable location on it. The back has a bunch of little letters that state some sort of agreement.

“Where is this?” You ask.

“It’s an underground boxing show. They have these huge matches and two of the famous boxers are fighting tonight which would be a huge cash price” Jacob nudges you “wanna come”

“Yeah, I’m down. Can I get ready? I have a couple things here already”

“Sure we still have time” Hyunjae looks at Jacob then you.

“awesome” you grab your bag and hug Chanhee goodbye because he is already heading to his room.

“call me if anything happens ok” you both do thumbs up and then you go to sunwoo room to get ready.

*on the way to the match*

You play with your nails nervously because you are still a bit sad about earlier. The boys drive off the road and drive through a concrete tunnel with graffiti all over with glowing red tape which you assume is a symbol. For about 10 minutes of driving through a dirt road, you see loads of trees.

Jacob hands the keys to the valet parking worker and parks his car somewhere. You follow them through another dirt pathway which is lined up with a few securities.

"How did you even find this place," you ask.

"Our trainer transferred here, so he can start working here full time. Supposedly Sunwoo was offered a spot here which I am not surprised because he is a great fighter" Jacob said.

"Oh" is all you can say. The weight off of your shoulder left after hearing that. Of course, you don't like the idea of him getting hurt while boxing but you also were relieved that you finally know what he has been doing.

For now, you just want to have fun since you hardly have time to do anything different around here. You see a gray building and small windows at the top with loads of lights.

The men at the entrance take tickets and they make everyone sign papers while being metal detected. The building is filled with thousands of people and the building was definitely soundproof because you could not hear the amount of talking outside.

You sit in between both of them and look around at everything. The whole place looks like a concert arena, just this one smells like a mix of all sorts of drugs, alcohol, and sweaty men. Your eyes land on the line of girls dressed in provocative costumes and beautiful hair, topped with glittery makeup. You were amazed at how confident they all looked.

The first pair of fighters start and Jacob gasps "It's Lee Jeno he is the second-best boxer in the history of dungeon boxing."

"Who is the first?" You wonder while looking at how fast he is throwing and dodging punches.

"Na Jaemin, this new generation is beating all of the past generation records. Those two together will whip out everyone in here" blood streams down the other opponent's mouth while Jeno’s hand is raised up.

Lee Jeno wins which makes everyone chant his name while he puffs his chest and throws his fists up for everyone to chant even louder.

More people fight and you have the urge to go to the bathroom. Both of them look very concentrated “I’m going to the bathroom real quick” you say to Jacob.

“I can take you, the best match is at the end,” he says standing up right away but someone behind us yells at us to sit down.

“It’s fine I’ll go on my own I see the bathroom sign” you lie and leave towards a random door before he gets the chance to react.

There were so many people in the pathway that you had to push through as politely as possible but someone bumps into you which makes you bump into this couple towards the back wall. You apologize regardless of them paying attention to you since they were making out.

You felt the back of the jacket being pulled back aggressively once you turned around. “Why the fuck did you bump into us you dirty bitch” you were met with some angry girl’s eyes but then your boyfriend’s?

Her body is still pressed against his. “Pathetic” you grab the girl's arm off and throw it down with all your force.

You pass through two security guards and through the gray doors. It's another door but it’s locked. You were already hysterically crying and trying to twist the door with blurry teary eyes. The security guards just stare.

A couple seconds later the door opens and it’s two other males with clipboards and suits on. “Why were you trying to open the door,” the short one says.

“I was trying to go to the bathroom and this was the nearest door I saw,” You say.

“Where’s your ticket,” the other says.

“I don’t have it with me it’s-“ they cut you off again.

“Ok so not only don’t you have a ticket but you went through the VIP area and passed security to a door you aren’t even supposed to see”

The back doors that you just went into, opened. It was Sunwoo and the girl. “Oh look it’s the little lost girl who harassed us,” she says.

“Do you guys know her?” the short one asked them. Your teary eyes meet Sunwoo’s but he is avoiding your eyes. “Obviously not! why is she even here” she smacks her gum even more.

“Look I wasn’t looking for trouble I just want to know where the restroom is and move on with my day” tears stream down your cheeks on how frustrated you feel.

“Fine I’ll take you to our bathrooms but this is a one-time thing because-'' the short one was about to talk but the girl cut him off.

“Don’t let her in, she is probably undercover investigating us. Treat her like the rest of them” she says.

You were tired of standing there, you were trying to leave without saying anything or else you would start uncomfortably sobbing. “Jisung grab her” before you can even think, you feel a pair of arms lift you up.

“Put me down. Why am i- Can I at least let my friends know where I’m going”

They didn’t respond and all you saw was sunwoo at the end of the hallway walking into another room. You are too stunned to even be hurt about it. As you pass the many gray doors with numbers on them you start to feel sick.

He stops in front of room 07 and it’s the biggest door in the hallway. They both scan their faces then the door opens. After those doors, there are glass sliding doors. Again they scan their face and get a finger scan “Put your belongings in this bin and take off any layers” you take off your bag, shoes, and jacket.

You are left in your dress. The sliding doors open to reveal an elevator. You never expect such a trashy building on the outside to have these things like this on the inside. As you guys are going up, you notice how good-looking they are. “Do not look at us, look at the wall” Renjun says getting out his taser.

“Renjun relax” Jisung says, you laugh then Renjun puts away his taser and says sorry.

“He has trust issues, don't take it personally. We are just dragging you here or else Jia will complain to Haechan and we all hate her” Jisung explains.

“Why do you guys keep her then?” you ask.

“The crowd loves her and we don’t want to look for another person to replace since it’s a whole process. Plus she’s crazy” Jisung says.

“Stop talking to her until we investigate. You’re saying too many names and too much information” Renjun eyes you every three seconds while typing away on his phone. You had no idea who they were, what they did, but you know this is getting serious.

“We will have to keep her here for a month just to make sure she doesn’t say anything” another guy appears with a black silky button-up and dress pants as soon as the elevator doors open.

Your mouth dries up not only because of what he said but how he looks. His eyes are staring at you intensely up and down.

“We haven’t investigated her yet” Jisung says since Renjun also seems to be confused.

“No need. I found her right away and although she is not connected to anyone, she is dating the dude that has been seeing one of our show girls so that is a little suspicious. Explain why you are trying to get in and how you even got here.” Haechan questions you.

“I was trying to get out. There is no way I am staying here! i have a job and i’m a student” you try to turn around to leave but he pulls you back.

"Do not make another move until I say so. I know your weaknesses sweetheart or should i say [your username] " meaning he probably looked through everything you have done online and you catch on to what he means. You don't move but he leans into you "go it" he whispers into your ear and you nod yes.

"Words sweetheart".

"got it" you respond.

"So now you are mocking me" he smirks and towers over you. His tie dangles over your face as you look up at him.

"Renjun, Jisung you guys are good to go now. Make sure Jaemin is prepared. Do not let anyone enter until I say so, including you guys. We will have a meeting about this one later”

"I have a name" he shoves two fingers into your mouth. "You are not aware of what I am capable of doing and who I am so do not even think about talking back to me"

You start to heat up by the way he is speaking to you because he basically knows more than anyone if he got your laptop information. You want him to get even angry at you, so you suck on his finger that is pointing at you and swirl your tongue around. He hovers over you and shoves his fingers deeper into your throat. "Stand up" he lifts his fingers with you attached to them and releases his fingers out of your mouth. You just got cheated on so the most you can do is live up to your fantasies.

Haechan smirks at you then looks where you were seated. You left a small puddle of your wetness. "Now that you have done your little show...it is time for your punishment" he sits down and pulls you to sit on his lap.

He takes off his tie and puts it over your eyes, you hear his belt come off and he buckles it onto your mouth. "Since you don't listen when I tell you not to speak or move" he spanks your ass "once you step into my office you have to obey me pretty girl" his hands grip your hips.

You start to move your hips against his thigh. You cannot stand the heat pulsing through your soaking core. He grips you harder and speeds your movements, moans start pouring through the belt.

"Who knew a person like you would be this desperate that fast. Exactly who I have been looking for but you bark back and I do not like that. You know what bad girls like you get" you nod your head no furiously so he can do something other than guiding you through his clothed thigh.

He demands you to get on all fours on top of the couch. Haechan unzips your dress and unclasps your bra. The belt from your mouth is removed and it is covered in saliva. The belt comes in contact with your ass which releases a couple fluids that are now dripping down your thighs so you cross your legs for some sort of friction. "What part of do not move do you not understand" he grabs both of your hands and belts your wrist. Your face is now smashed into the couch.

"What do you fucking earn from edging me this long. Look at your fucking pants just whip it out for fucks sake, you are-"

"Shut the fuck up" he puts his knee between your legs and starts rubbing it around. "You need to learn how to keep that mouth shut" he shoved his knee further and pressured more. Your plan trying to hold back the screams fails.

He has a rope in his hands and you smirk "fuck" he rolls his eyes and starts to tie your hands then wraps it around your chest and stomach. Haechan tightens it even more in your thighs and brings the ends of ropes to your ankles.

He was about to put the rest around your mouth but you looked at haechan with lust. His face is spotted with moles and his eyes are framed with beautiful lashes. "You are pretty you know that" he looks at you in the eyes with anger but lust. "Do not sweet talk me"

"Are you going to kill me? you can at least make me cu-" he shoves a gag in your mouth and ties it. Your hair was pulled back by his hands and you looked up at him. He kneels down to be eye level with you "why aren't you scared of me?”

-END OF PART ONE-

authors note :)

I hope you enjoyed the first part! this is my first time writing these types of things or in general so hopefully, I improve further on. If you have the time please leave some feedback it would mean a lot.

Thank you for reading <3

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mrsfatu08 · 27 days ago

Text

Unexpected Blessings

Summary: Jey Uso and his girlfriend navigate the surprises and challenges of an unexpected pregnancy, including a gender reveal and baby shower, culminating in the intense experience of labor and the arrival of their twin daughters.

this is my first fic so bare with me also I did use ChatGPT bc my OG draft was taking too long

First Trimester

The sun was setting over the horizon, casting a warm glow in Jey Uso’s living room. He was sprawled on the couch, scrolling through his phone when you walked in, holding a small box. Your heart raced, a mix of excitement and nerves coursing through you.

“Jey,” you called softly, trying to gauge his mood. He looked up, curiosity sparking in his eyes.

“Hey, what you got there?” he asked, sitting up and leaning forward.

You took a deep breath, opening the box to reveal two tiny pairs of baby shoes. “I wanted to show you something…important.”

His expression shifted from curiosity to confusion, then realization. “Wait, are you saying…?”

You nodded, feeling a wave of emotions wash over you. “Yeah, I’m pregnant—with twins.”

Jey’s eyes widened, a smile breaking across his face. He jumped up, enveloping you in a tight embrace. “Oh man, this is…wow! This is amazing!”

His excitement was infectious, and you couldn’t help but laugh through the tears that threatened to spill. “You really think so?”

“Hell yeah! We’re gonna be parents—twice as nice!” he exclaimed, his enthusiasm filling the room. “This is a blessing.”

Second Trimester

As the weeks went by, the two of you settled into a routine. Jey was by your side for every doctor’s appointment, holding your hand through every ultrasound. He learned about pregnancy, read books, and even picked out baby names, often playfully arguing over his picks versus yours.

“Come on, what’s wrong with ‘Jey Jr.’?” he teased one afternoon.

“Maybe if we have a boy,” you laughed, rolling your eyes. “But let’s not rush it.”

With the gender reveal approaching, you decided to throw a party. You wanted it to be a memorable event, surrounded by friends and family. Jey took charge of the details, wanting everything to be perfect.

On the day of the reveal, the backyard was decorated in a mix of blue and pink. Friends and family gathered, buzzing with excitement. You both stood at the center, Jey holding a balloon filled with colored powder.

“On the count of three!” you called out, heart racing. “One, two, three!”

Jey popped the balloon, and a cloud of pink powder burst into the air. Gasps filled the space, followed by cheers and laughter. “It’s girls!” you shouted, beaming at Jey.

He lifted you up in his arms, spinning you around. “We’re having twin daughters! Man, they’re gonna be spoiled!”

As the crowd celebrated, you both announced the names you had chosen: “Maya and Kaia.” The names felt right, perfect for your little girls.

Third Trimester

As your belly grew, so did Jey’s affection. He was always there, whether it was running out for late-night cravings or simply wrapping his arms around you while watching TV. You felt more in love with him every day, and the bond you shared deepened.

But there were tough moments, too—nights filled with anxiety and doubt. During one of those nights, you found yourself staring at the ceiling, lost in thought. Jey noticed your silence and pulled you close.

“What’s on your mind, babe?” he asked softly.

“Just…everything,” you admitted. “What if I’m not ready? What if we can’t handle this?”

He kissed the top of your head, his voice steady. “We’ll figure it out together. No matter what, I’m here for you and our girls. We’re a team.”

With the baby shower approaching, Jey transformed into a doting partner, ensuring you had everything you needed. The shower was a beautiful celebration filled with friends, laughter, and love. Everyone gathered in a decorated space, showering you with gifts and advice.

As you opened the presents, Jey stood beside you, his pride evident. “Look at all this stuff for Maya and Kaia,” he said, chuckling at the adorable outfits and toys.

Labor

The night your labor began, you were watching a movie together, feeling slightly off. A few mild contractions made you frown. Jey noticed and immediately shifted his attention to you, concern etched on his face.

“Babe, are you okay?” he asked, placing a hand on your belly.

You took a deep breath, trying to gauge the sensation. “I think it’s starting. We should probably get ready.”

As the contractions intensified, you moved to the hospital, with Jey’s hand tightly gripping yours the whole way. Once you arrived, the staff took you to a room, and Jey stayed right by your side, whispering encouragement.

Hours passed, and the contractions became more intense. You squeezed Jey’s hand, breathing through the pain, his presence grounding you. “You’re doing amazing, just focus on me,” he said, wiping your forehead with a cloth.

With every wave of pain, you could see the worry and excitement in Jey’s eyes. He rubbed your back, reminding you of the little ones waiting to meet you both. The sound of the heart monitor filled the room, steady and reassuring.

As the labor progressed, you felt a surge of determination. “I can do this,” you told Jey, who nodded fervently, eyes wide with admiration.

When it was time to push, you felt an incredible rush of energy. Jey held your hand tightly, giving you strength as you worked together to bring Maya and Kaia into the world. “You’ve got this, babe. I’m right here,” he said, his voice steady and supportive.

After what felt like an eternity, the moment arrived. With one final push, you heard the first cries of your daughters. Tears streamed down your face as the nurse placed Maya and Kaia on your chest, their tiny bodies warm and perfect.

Jey leaned in, awe-struck. “Look at our little superstars,” he whispered, brushing a finger over each of their tiny hands. “They’re beautiful.”

In that moment, surrounded by love, you realized that despite the challenges ahead, you were ready to embrace the journey of parenthood together. With Jey by your side, you felt equipped to navigate every joy and obstacle life had to offer.

#jey uso x reader #jey uso x black reader #jey uso imagine

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tsukimefuku · 8 months ago

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bread for breakfast ꕥ higuruma hiromi

summary: hiromi decides to walk down to his favorite bakery before heading to morioka and ends up bumping into nanami.

tags: jujutsu kaisen, higuruma x reader, implied past nanami x reader, angst, hurt with no comfort, a talk between two characters i like a lot.

wc: 1.2k

notes, etc.: i began writing this to the sound of sayonara bye bye, by mawatari motsuko, and wound up finishing it to the sound of back to the old house, by the smiths. so yeah, that should be an indication of the feels this relates to.

ꕥ collection of stories: "jujutsu partners au"

→ masterlist for fics listed in chronological order of events

Hiromi walked down the street holding the sunflower you gave him on one arm, carrying a small duffle bag with some clothes in the other. He walked slowly, dragging himself along, defeated and looking down, trying to distract his mind from the break-up.

Especially from the recent memory of your asleep face as he stepped out of the room for one last time, and out of your life for God knows how long.

How long?

He shook his head involuntarily. Hiromi didn't want to even spare a thought on this matter, considering everything else was a private hell in and of itself.

I should have put this flower inside a bag, he thought for a moment. Hiromi managed to leave most of it all at his former apartment, but he couldn't leave the sunflower you gave him, as much as he wanted to — he knew the mere sight of it every day would be painful, but he figured it was better than having no piece from your story at all by his side.

The sorcerer had decided to eat something for breakfast, and slowly but surely made his way towards the bakery he had been at sometimes before. This was where he wanted to have his last Tokyo meal before heading to Morioka. Maybe they still have that ciabatta with pesto…

Still on an uncertain stride, it really took every fiber of his being to not turn around and run back to his apartment and throw himself into bed with you, to not snuggle his face against your hair, embracing your waist, giving up on this stupid, idiotic endeavor. His heart pounded achingly against his chest, even if his tired expression showed no indication of pain.

Hiromi didn't turn back, though, thanks to and because of you.

Upon entering the bakery, however, he was taken by surprise — a surprise he didn't really know if it was welcome or not at this very moment.

About to exit the vicinity, the ratio sorcerer held a paper bag of baguettes with a cup of coffee on one side, and had a small bag with his morning sandwich on the other.

"Higuruma?"

"Good morning, Nanami" he exhaled, feeling a weird vulnerability stinging under his skin at the sight of a familiar face. Hiromi wasn't ready to meet anyone before heading out, and intended to smooth over the details of his departure from Tokyo with Gojo through the phone.

They stood there for a few moments, and Nanami noticed Hiromi seemed beaten up underneath the surface. The man had huge bags under his eyes and avoided making direct eye contact, unconsciously clutching the sunflower against his chest. Hiromi was carrying himself with a put-upon expression.

"Can I offer you a cup of coffee?" Nanami inquired, stepping aside to ease people's way inside and out of the small business.

"I…" Hiromi pondered, before nodding silently.

***

They were both seated at a tiny coffee table, and Hiromi was unconsciously rubbing his thumb against the sunflower's vase, that now laid on top of his bag.

After explaining to Nanami all that had happened these past few days, especially why he had chosen to leave Tokyo and go to Morioka, Hiromi sighed, waiting for a lecture from his colleague.

However, the lecture never came.

"I see," Nanami acquiesced, "and hope it all goes well for you."

Hiromi scoffed, somewhat disappointed.

"I was hoping you'd lecture me for this, just to give me a final push into changing my mind about leaving."

"You seem to have your mind made up about everything. There's nothing I could say to change your resolution about it."

The former lawyer sighed, and remained silent for a while, as he rolled his now empty cup of coffee on the tips of his fingers.

"You don’t have to leave," Nanami noted. "You could try aiding your former office colleagues from a distance."

"But I do have to leave, though. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be myself," Hiromi stated, "the same way that you wouldn’t be yourself if you hadn't tried to push her away for what you thought would be her own good."

"Hm… What?"

That definitely took Nanami by surprise, and he straightened himself on his chair, clearing his throat, somewhat jarred by the blunt sincerity and situational clarity Hiromi just hit him with. Also, the ratio sorcerer was a little taken aback with the fact that Hiromi — while in a relationship with you — knew you and Nanami had been involved, albeit never treating him with anything but respect and comradery after Nanami stopped holding his own grudge against the man.

"I thought about it a lot, because she never told me what happened between the two of you," he began, "not in detail, anyway."

Hiromi paused his speech for a moment, picking his next words.

"Getting to know you better, Nanami, that is what I think happened, and it makes sense to me. You are the kind of person who would do anything to protect other people, even if it makes you miserable, and even if you can't admit it."

Nanami sighed, averting his gaze as Hiromi read him like an open book.

Hiromi realized he was correct, so he proceeded.

"That is your moral selfishness. I guess…. We are both selfish, in our own way. My moral selfishness is not allowing myself to be happy until I feel I’ve paid my due debt."

Nanami felt sympathy for the former lawyer, even if he couldn't understand the man's impending sense of responsibility.

"I understand your point," Nanami began, "but she would probably say that’s just the story you’re telling yourself."

Hiromi chuckled softly. "She did. Do you end up ignoring most of her advices too?"

"Only when she gives them out, which is not very often," Nanami half jested.

Both sorcerers stood silent for a minute before Hiromi smiled bitterly at himself as he started speaking again.

"It’s true that no jujutsu sorcerer dies without regret, right? I mean, she… I wish I could stay."

“She will be okay, she always is” Nanami reassured him.

“I believe so,” Hiromi answered, having his shoulders dangle down as he considered his next few words.

"I need to ask you for something, Nanami."

The ratio sorcerer remained silent, so he proceeded.

“Don’t let her be alone,” Hiromi asked, glancing at Nanami.

Nanami was considerably surprised, and looked a little incredulous at his colleague.

“Aren't you both still…?”

“I’ll let you ask her that.”

Nanami pondered for a second, and huffed with the slightest hint of a smile at the irony of it all.

“I remember you once said I was a dignified man. I believe you were wrong about that.”

“Even the best of us have their blind spots, apparently,” Hiromi concluded, as he lifted himself. "I need to take my train now."

Nanami also got up, and extended his hand towards Hiromi, much to the other's surprise.

"You have become a fine jujutsu sorcerer. I hope you get to come back to Tokyo, eventually" he stated, as Hiromi acquiesced to the gesture and gave him a handshake.

"I hope for that, too."

–

End notes:

Well, the events that explain how this came to happen will be in "old regrets and guilt ridden pasts: part 3", which I've barely scraped the surface of up until this point. Lol

Sorry for the angst guys, but I hope you like it.

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lalacliffthorne · 10 months ago

Text

okay, so, I kinda hadn't planned on doing this; I hadn't even thought about it - whoops 🙈 there was literally just a before and after Azriel and Reader started dating in my head lol

but since so many of you asked and since it would be criminal not to - let's think about it ;)

the one where they stop being idiots 💞

okay, so I see a few ways of how this could go

let's look at two

as hinted in all the before-drabbles --

there have been moments

moments

like when either of you stares at the other for too long

or lingers in a hug

or the two of you are somehow always near each other

you get the gist

so we got all those lil moments

piling up, until technically, even an idiot should see that you really like Azriel

and that Azriel -

well, is down very, very bad

which, of course, means you have no clue

okay, so you kinda do

it's hard to ignore the tingling feeling in your belly

and that rising feeling in your chest whenever Azriel just looks at you

but you're very good at pushing that away

bc -

it's not that serious, right?

and even if you catch Azriel staring at you and he never looks away, just gets that twinkle in his eyes

and he always seems to linger a little too long when he's close, helping you with your jacket or brushing away a lash stuck on your cheek

and his gaze flickers down to what you swear is your lips -

there's really no way he actually likes you like that.

let alone feels his breath hitch every time you're close or gets that plummeting feeling in his chest when you as much as brush him

and even if there's some kind of attraction

there's no way that he has fallen for you just the same way you have quietly, creepingly and incredibly hard - fallen for him

...

yeah

since you are friends and living with a bunch of busy bodies

it doesn't take too long until at least one of them gets tired of watching the two of you be, frankly, idiots

maybe it's Rhys

over his not-so-subtle-hints and mischievous smirks, just turning towards you one evening in the kitchen

"alright, love - please tell me you're actually clueless and simply don't see that Az is down ridiculously bad for you?"

or maybe it's Mor

accidentally, literally blurting it out at brunch

something along the lines of "oh, yeah; of course he remembered, he remembers everything, plus he's completely in love with you, so -"

before growing still and becoming more wide-eyed than you have ever seen her

or maybe it's Cassian

after one drink too many, throwing an arm over your shoulder and raising his brows as he rumbles: "look, sweets, I love you. but if I have to watch Az stare longingly at you for another day, I'll lock the two of you in the pantry until you confess that you're completely in love with each other and make out. so, please, put the man out of his misery."

let's face it

it's probably all of them

bc they're just so over seeing Az pine after you and you pine after Az

and if you two would just talk about this -

anyway

you could've waved off one of them with a weak giggle and a "you're seeing things"

but three of your best friends -

who all know Azriel better than anyone else does -

two actually around both of you on a daily basis -

yeah, that's kinda hard to ignore

so suddenly, you start to notice everything

like everything

which makes your heart go into absolute overdrive whenever Azriel just looks at you

suddenly, you can't help but notice every little detail of him

and how he's acting around you

and how he's just insanely, annoyingly beautiful

and it does very strange things to your sanity

because suddenly, there's this tiny little voice in the back of your head that's whispering what if

and bc you can't be around Azriel without feeling heat wash into your cheeks and your breath becoming shaky and heart tumbling -

it's a bit of a mess.

and you really should say something

because it's getting increasingly, ridiculously difficult to keep yourself from leaning up and kissing him whenever he stares at you for too long, that half-crease in his cheek -

but you chicken out every time

and you kinda have a reason for that!

bc you love these boys

and what if something goes wrong and the others are wrong after all and you are wrong and he doesn't actually like you

bc then you would mess things up and you can't risk that and -

yeah

it really is a bit of a mess

well, until

that fateful almost-kiss

(pls don't kill me for the edging)

you're pretty sure it was an almost-kiss

like, 80 %

you turn it over enough in your head to be mostly sure Azriel wasn't just - about to wipe cake of your cheek or smth

just like you turn over the rest of the night you spent in your room with him

curled up on your bed, watching movies

ending with you falling asleep with your head on his chest

bc again

you're about 80 % sure you caught him staring at your lips at least twice

which means -

now

you are really screwed.

bc damn that thing messes with your head

I mean sure

the whole does he feel that tingling attraction too or am I seeing things-problem sorta went out of the window

but still

what if it was just a moment-thing?

or if maybe he doesn't like like you and it's all just physical attraction?

what if it isn't but it still doesn't work out bc at some point Azriel realises that you are actually not chill like he is and instead a lil ball of nerves and quirks??

what.

if.

you're basically quietly stewing in your own thoughts that are slowly getting out of control

and you just get more and more panicked, spinning in circles

until -

you lose it

it's probably a moment when the two of you are alone

maybe you're in the kitchen, responsible for making dinner for a change

and the silence is, at least for you, for once not calm like it always is with Azriel

instead, it feels like the air is buzzing and your heart does weird maneuvers and everytime you just get into close vicinity to Az, you feel like you're about to burst

and somewhere between chopping vegetables and putting cuttlery onto the table

you suddenly end up crowded against the counter

with Azriel towering over you, impossibly close

and he stills when he realises, in the middle of taking plates out of the cabinet, his eyes piercing yours

and your heart is racing because you can feel him

and because it feels like his gaze is pinning you to the spot

and because he's so close

and maybe Az sees something in the way you're staring up at him, wide-eyed and panicked

maybe he even feels the way your breath suddenly flutters

or how your heart is pounding painfully against your ribs

but Azriel slowly, carefully puts down the plate in his hand, placing it on the counter behind you

not once looking away

and then his lips curve a little and you're pretty sure the world lurches at the sight

it always feels like just looking at him causes a knife to twist under your ribs because he's just so damn beautiful

but right now, he looks fucking heavenly

the warm kitchen lights throwing shadows under his jaw, making his cheekbones look even sharper

that barely there crease in his cheek as his gaze slowly drag over your face

and he's tall and all broad shoulders and piercing eyes

and he looks at you the way he did before the almost-kiss

and suddenly

you just cannot keep it in any longer

"So, Mor said you're in love with me?"

The second you blurt out the words, you feel your eyes widen.

Well shit.

Azriel blinks, his lips parting; like maybe, for once, he has not forseen this turn of events.

You wouldn't blame him. You're currently wondering whether looking at him for too long has made your brain short-circuit.

"I mean -" You stare up at him, heat rising into your cheeks while your heart is pounding against your ribs. "I - okay, I didn't mean to say that, I, uhm, I just - thought about that thing that happened the other day; well, almost happened, and uh -" Your voice is actually shaking a bit now and sounds a little like you're about to faint, and that's not that far off, because shit -

"l mean, uhm -" Your throat finally gives up like it has decided to shut you up before you can make things worse.

And that's when you realise Azriel is still staring at you.

Only suddenly his iris looks like molten gold, and his gaze is a little feverish as it darts over your face, deep and heated and like he's trying to drink you in as his lips slowly curve upwards.

"Remind me to get her back for this."

His deep voice sends tingles down your spine, because you have never heard it this low and hoarse before, and it takes you a moment until the meaning of the mumbled words reaches you.

Your lips part, and suddenly, your heart feels like it's trying to escape your chest.

"Get her back for what?" Your whisper is so breathless, you almost swallow it.

There are creases in Azriel's cheek that make your knees feel like jello as he stares down at you, something feverish and heated in his eyes when he mumbles hoarsely: "For telling you before I could."

Your breath catches in your throat, and your heart does one huge jump. Then it stills.

"What?" Your voice sounds so breathy, you're not sure Azriel even heard it, at least until scarred fingers slip under your chin, a thumb softly brushing over your cheek as his eyes narrow a little, the crease in his cheek deepening.

"You think I was this close to kissing your just for shits and giggles?" Azriel would sound dry if there wasn't that slight edge to his hoarse voice, if his eyes weren't flickering over your face feverishly and carefully, almost anxiously. You think you can feel his breath hitch and stutter when your nose almost brushes his, and suddenly you realise he's gotten really close, close enough that you can feel his breath on your lips and his scent making your head swim.

"No?", you somehow manage to whisper, your voice almost breaking.

Azriel makes a noise at the back of his throat, deep and a little desperate; his nose nudges yours, and as a shiver runs up your spine and your breath stills in your throat, he mumbles "No." and dips his head to kiss you.

And you're pretty sure the world just stops.

Becomes so quiet you can hear your heart rising in a wild flutter, the way your breath shudders as you exhale in slow motion, and the quiet sound Azriel makes deep in his chest as his hands slide to the back of your neck.

And then he's kissing you. And his lips are warm and soft and pressing onto yours more feverishly with the second, and your hands rise to slide up his waist, hold onto him, and suddenly, you're not even close to being close enough.

Your legs are shaking when you move, push closer, until your chest is pressing into Azriel's, and he makes another soft noise before slipping his fingers into your hair; his body moving yours backwards until he's crowding you against the counter and you feel the cabinets press against your legs. Then Azriel deepens the kiss, his lips parting yours, and suddenly, you feel like starlight.

and with that

pretty much every question just vanishes.

erased by the way Azriel is kissing you, deep and feverish and desperate, like you're oxygen and he's been underwater for years

dinner's completely forgotten as you move through the kitchen, hips bumping against the counters and the table until you end up on the couch

Azriel's hands gripping your waist as you straddle him, your fingers buried in his hair as your bodies mold into each other and Az begins to figure out the 100 different ways to kiss you

and somewhere in the back of your brain

the part that isn't completely consumed by the way his chest is pressing into yours and scent is filling your lungs and body melts into yours

you wonder how a)

you ever made it without kissing him

without feeling his warm skin beneath your fingers and the taste of his lips and the way his hands slip under your shirt and press you closer

without hearing the tiny sounds he makes, deep and a little breathless as he's kissing you and you're kissing him back

and b)

how you're supposed to stop

bc now that you know what kissing Azriel feels like

you're really not sure how long you'll be able to go for without it.

(he does actually tell you the thing he's gonna give Mor shit for spilling for for the next decade

mumbled against your lips

and you're not sure how your heart doesn't give out with how far it leaps

but somehow, you manage to whisper those three words back

and Azriel makes a noise that causes your breath to tumble, bc it sounds like he doesn't quite believe it

and so you mumble it a few more times, until he kisses the words from your lips and you kiss them back onto his and neither of you can breathe)

of course there's the other option as well

the one where Azriel just can't help himself anymore

the one where you're sitting next to him in a quiet corner of the library or on the couch or in the passenger's seat of Rhys' car

and you're focused on something; your laptop, a book, your phone

and you have that slightly distant look on your face, your brows crunching

and even tho you're wearing a hoodie he's pretty sure belongs to Cassian, because it's massive on you, and your hair looks a lil wild

he feels like he's about to burst

because you're just too fucking beautiful

and he already missed his first shot bc of that fucking honking car

and it's getting hard to breathe and he really just can't take it anymore

and bc of that

he reaches over and slides his hand under your jaw, gently pulling it up and towards him

and for a moment, you're really confused, because does he want to show you something or -

and then he leans over

and suddenly

your head's empty

bc he's so close that you can see the flecks of gold in his eyes and the shadows of a few freckles scattered over his nose and how long his lashes are and -

his scent washes over you, and your breath gets violently caught in your throat the same moment Azriel stills, barely an inch away

you can feel his breath on your skin and the warmth of him and how your heart is suddenly pounding against your ribs

and Azriel swears he will remember that moment until the day he dies

because you look like you've forgotten how to breathe

and you're staring at him in a way that makes every sense of doubt he had ever had about himself trickle away until there's nothing left but that harsh pulsing feeling in his chest

and he swears to himself he's gonna tell you he's hopelessly, utterly in love with you like a complete idiot

that he has been falling since the day you waltzed into the lives of him and his best friends

and how instead of crashing, the way you beam at him has given him wings

and a bunch of other stuff that won't even come close to describing how you make his heart beat out of his chest and breath hitch and whole being settle

but right now, he needs to kiss you

because he's been an absolute idiot for waiting this long

and he feels like if he waits just a second longer, he's gonna explode into a million pieces

and so

his heart pounding against his ribs and his breath getting stuck in his throat

he dips his head and kisses you

and then, just for a while, he forgets about anything and everything that's not you

@ailyr92 @azrielshadows1nger @waytoomanyteenagefeels @secretlyhers @knmendiola @luvmoo @azriels-mate2 @bookishbroadwaybish @maybe-a-winchester @stayinglow-exploringworlds @harrystylesfan2686 @icey--stars @ssmay123

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coryothesub · 8 months ago

Note

I need a Coryo smut where the reader finds him smelling her panties while masturbating.

Take example from this lovely anon and send more asks because interaction gives me dopamine

I took the liberty of making this a peacekeeper Coryo thing, because that sounds just like something a peacekeeper Coryo would do.

nsfw / mdni / pk!sub!coryo / district!dom!reader

You returned home after a long day of hard work and to your great dismay your front door was open.

Had you forgotten to lock it or someone had broken into your house to look for food or your non-existent valuables? Or maybe those were the goddamn peacekeepers again? In District 12 you just never knew.

You grabbed a knife from the kitchen and started inspecting your shack not sure whether the possible intruder was still there.

Then you were caught off guard by soft moans and whimpers coming from the bedroom. You actually thought you recognized this voice from before.

You put the knife down and peeked through the crack in the door just to discover that your suspicions were right. It was Private Coriolanus Snow laying in your small bed, resting his back against the pillows.

He was fully dressed except for his cock outside his uniform pants, his hand wrapped around it as he was pumping it at a rapid pace. You bit your lip realizing he was a well-endowed young man, well above the average.

He didn't notice you as his eyes were closed and his face was buried in your panties that you had forgotten to throw in the laundry basket after changing before work.

He let out a series of sweet moans as he breathed in your scent coming from the tiny piece of fabric and his cock jerked in his hand. Such a naughty little pervert.

The sight of the handsome uniformed man pleasuring himself was undeniably arousing. You didn’t even notice at which moment you brought your hand down to your most heated area and let it dive under the waistband of your panties. You felt a pool of treacherous wetness on the tips of your fingers as soon as you reached your clit. Your mind wasn't sure how you felt about this but your body was ready to go with it.

You bit your lip to avoid moaning in unison with the indecent young man occupying your bed.

He groaned deeply, sinking his nose deeper into the white fabric of your panties. It felt like he was about to cum soon and that certainly wasn’t something to be allowed. You walked into the room and cleared your throat loudly.

Coryo sat up quickly tossing away your underwear and trying to cover his exposed manhood with your pillow. His eyes widened in terror and his already flushed cheeks tinted red as you walked over to the bed and your eyes met his with a furious look.

“Private Snow, what the hell are you doing here?” you spoke to him in a stern voice before ripping the pillow away from him and uncovering his painfully hard cock.

“I-I was just sent out on patrol a-and…” he tried to think of an excuse but no sensible words were coming out of his mouth.

“Maybe I should take you to your commander and inquire about the details of this weird little mission if yours. Pretty sure it didn't include patrolling in my bed with your dick out and your face buried in my panties, huh?”

Coryo looked at you in horror, wide-eyed and gaping. He felt his eyes welling up with tears of shame just at the thought of his higher ups finding out. There was no other option but to beg pathetically.

“Please,” he spoke with clenched teeth trying to prevent those pathetic tears from running down his face.

“Please what?” your tone grew even harsher as you felt your cunt getting impossibly wet from him being absolutely helpless at your mercy.

“Please don't go to my commander!” Coryo pleaded, his voice teary and frightened.

“You will have to behave then.”

“Yes, I will do anything, I swear!” he quickly stood on his knees, grabbing at the hem of your dress.

“Okay then,” you sounded just a bit more admissive. “You’ll have to obey everything I say. One wrong move and all your peacekeeper friends will find out what a filthy little pervert you are.”

Coryo nodded quickly.

“Lay back!”

The blonde boy assumed his previous position, resting his upper body against the pillows.

You pulled down your panties and waved them in front of his face mockingly before tossing them aside and crawling into the bed across from him. After finding a more comfortable position you parted your legs causing Coryo to let out a soft gasp at the sight of your pretty pussy.

You started rubbing yourself lazily and noticed his hand reaching for his stiffened member.

“Nuh-uh!” you shook your head in disapproval. “Naughty little perverts like you don't get to touch themselves.”

Coryo put his hand away quickly. It took a whole lot of focusing to control himself while you were playing with your cunt so deliciously.

“Feels so good,” you moaned softly and threw your head back as you felt the warm feeling of pleasure washing over your body.

Coryo flared his nostrils watching you with the most pleading look you had ever seen. His cock was literally aching for touch and he needed you so badly.

You watched his despair with a shit eating grin and released yourself from the rest of your clothes making his situation even more unbearable.

You crawled over to him and straddled his hips, your pussy lingering just above his aching member.

“Here, have a taste!” you pushed your fingers between his lips and he started sucking around them hungrily trying to savor every last drop of your juices.

“So hungry…” you teased before pulling your fingers out of his mouth and grabbing his throbbing cock causing him to let out a soft whimper.

He quickly realized the torture wasn't nearly over when you pressed the tip of his dick to your puffy folds and started rubbing against it feeling his velvety skin brushing against your sensitive spot.

Coryo's breath hitched, feeling the long awaited friction. He needed to be inside you so badly.

“Please,” he begged, voice whiny and broken. He looked so adorably pathetic. “Please, I need you, just let me…”

“Oh look at you, peacekeeper boy,” you kept teasing, rubbing his tip against your clit. “Such a slut for me. So damn pathetic.”

You felt Coryo's dick twitch in your hand just as you said those words.

“Please,” he mouthed, completely dazed from your relentless teasing. “Can you say that again? That word…”

“Oh,” you felt slightly surprised. “You love it don't you, slut boy!”

Coryo's eyes fluttered as he let out a sigh of contentment. As pathetic as it sounded, being called a slut by a district girl while he was still dressed in his full peacekeeper uniform felt strangely arousing.

“Slut!” you repeated, slapping his cheek just as you dove down on his cock, burying it in your dripping wet count.

Coryo's brain shut down completely and he let out a desperate groan. He’d almost thought this would never happen.

You wrapped your hand around his neck feeling his pulse wild and restless under your touch as you started riding his cock.

“Oh, fuck, Coriolanus!” you moaned out his name feeling his massive dick stretching out your tight walls. Edging him had made you quite desperate for your own release and you knew for sure that none of you would last much longer.

“P-please! Keep going…” Coryo begged unthinkingly although you had no intention of stopping.

You leaned closer to him as your pussy was still bouncing up and down his shaft and locked your lips with his. The boy tried to meet your kiss hungrily but the pressure of your hand against his throat made him gasp for air.

You kept lingering above his lovely pink lips enjoying his absolute helplessness under your firm grip. His adorable gasps and whimpers combined with his wonderful cock hitting against your sweet spot brought you over the edge and you climaxed, cumming all over his rock hard member.

You kept riding Coryo through your orgasm feeling his breath speeding up under your fingers. His pale blue eyes widened and his cock twitched against your walls just before bucking his hips up and releasing his load deep inside your tight pussy.

You climbed off him and sank in the sheets powerlessly.

“S-so… Is this gonna stay a secret? You know, between me and you?” Coryo asked anxiously post orgasm shakiness still present in his voice as he was zipping up his uniform pants.

“I'm gonna let you off with a warning this time. You're truly lucky that your dick is so good.”

“Thank you!” the boy blushed, secretly basking in your little praise.

You picked up your panties from the floor and put them in his hand.

“Here have these! Maybe having a pair with you will finally make you stop breaking into my house.”

#thank you for the ask and thank you for your patience i've been a bit busy but i sacrificed a few hours of sleep to write this #just got carried away by the idea #coriolanus snow #young coriolanus snow #peacekeeper coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #thg #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #thg tbosas #oneshot #cts ask

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fhrlclln · 1 year ago

Note

Could you write Miguel hates everyone but you please.

miguel o’hara x spider!gn! reader

ANONNN YESSS, the thought made my toes curl how he’d automatically go soft on you at any moment LOLLL, like his annoyance would fizzle out just one word or glance from you (basically i want him obsessed with me 🤪).

｡･:*˚:✧｡

if you knew better, you know well not to get on miguel’s nerves.

he’s a busy man, stressed and fighting his way through his mission of keeping the multiverse in-tact. lyla once said that he wasn’t all like this before, just that everything had weighed on him the moment he discovered what keeps every spider-person’s dimension stable, learning from his own personal mistake. basically, you think the spider-society’s leader is kind of… unstable? kinda, if mentally but overall, you think he just hates everyone.

it was common to see him snapping at people, mostly the ones who get on his nerves frequently. but most of the time, he’s strict and scarily assertive when it comes to normal matters that need his guidance. everyone in the spider-society don’t really care if they pissed their leader off in some way but they were aware not to push his buttons. they just kinda wished he was more fun since they deemed him as the only spiderman who isn’t ‘funny.’ hell, everyone wanted to see if he’d throw that attitude away for once.

but maybe he did.

it was subtle, subtle you couldn’t even make it out.

“a new suit you’re building?” miguel’s shoulder’s tensed at the sudden boom of your voice, yet instantly he relaxes as you hop of the ceiling to stand by his side while he works on his own suit. “hope i’m not intruding.” you quickly follow up, realizing your mistake of not knocking or something.

“in the progress, yes.” miguel says, without much sarcasm or annoyance. you relax as well as miguel continued on working, not minding you were here it seems. he was quiet as you knew, you knew from observation that he liked working alone most of the time.

“that’s cool! how far are you enhancing from this suit?” you asked, utterly excited now as you gesture to his original suit. miguel seems amused, as you expected him to shut you off or ask why you were here but he merely chuckles, liking your curiosity.

“way far, trying to improve it’s durability and other things here and there, sensors, these web wings...” he gestures to the material underneath the armpits of the suit. a fine light byte material as you noticed. “and more.” he looks down to the other parts of the suit, proud.

you hummed, taking the to admire his craftsmanship. it certainly was a big change to his suit now as you can see, the color theme was changed as well, incorporating white in it but still had that usual tone. your eyes wandered, taking every little detail until one had your eyes widening.

“are those… boot jets?” you bend down to take a better look, as the suit was situated by wires, hanging a top.

“yes. for boosting flight speed mainly.” he says, grabbing one of the soles as he shows it to you. your eyes sparkled as you touched it, amazed how a booster could fit that small.

“amazing, miguel! wished my suit was capable of that.” you smiled as miguel shrugs at it, though a small smile is graced on his lips from your compliment. “what else are you innovating?”

miguel gestures to the wrist of the suit’s gloves as he picks something off the table from the side to show it to you. it was small arachnid shaped objects he presented as he demonstrates it by flinging it off way up as he shoots it with his laser webs causing a small explosion to occur, making you jump.

“explosives—“

miguel lets you take one of small explosives from his hand with astonishment as he softly explains along what they are. “prototype explosives. yeah, they’re something i’ve been—“

“what are we talking about today?! i just heard an explosion, i thought we were keeping it baby-proof here, miguel!” peter’s cheery voice suddenly took over as miguel let out a tiny exasperated sigh at the sudden intrusion. you waved in greeting as the father-daughter duo made their way towards the two of you. mayday happily napping in peter’s baby sling.

“there is no such thing of baby-proofing a lab, peter.” he grunts, resuming his antics as peter cooly dismisses his unwelcoming attitude. his face remains passive yet his tone was off, you noticed. “what do you want?”

“important matters. sorry for intruding whatever you two are doing, was it serious?” peter takes a knowing glance at you as you chuckled.

miguel rolls his eyes. “it was not—“

“it’s no big deal, peter. was just stopping by for miguel.” you smiled at him, looking back at miguel as you sensed some serious matter was going to be discussed as you excused yourself now. “i’ll be heading back now. miguel, if you have the time i’d love to hear more of the suit.”

miguel nods gently, the sudden look of annoyance dying down from his face a bit as you waved goodbye to peter, not forgetting to whispering a bye-bye to mayday as well. the two men stood in silence as peter seemed to catch something on as miguel went back to his desk, resuming his work.

“so, you really don’t hate everyone, huh?” peter starts, amused. very amused at the sudden subtle change. amused as well that he just won the bet that their leader didn’t hate everyone in fact.

“what does that have to mean?” miguel raises a brow at the assumption.

“oh, i don’t know… but, well for one, you aren’t that snappy at them than to me and maybe so on…” peter says mischievously, looking back to where you exited, chuckling as he smirks as miguel catches on with that implication and the tease. the tip of his ears heating up that as he turns his back at him.

“stop assuming things, parker.” he says defensively, peter raises his hands in defense as well, yet still not letting it go for a moment before they finally talk about the more serious matters. though, his mind yet ponders at what truth was said. it wasn’t that true that he hates everyone… everyone just annoys him but, yeah…

maybe he does like you, it seems.

｡･:*˚:✧｡

i want him fr

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o’hara fluff #oscar isaac #across the spiderverse #across the spider verse spoilers #fnhrlcllnwrites #eri’s request box 📦 ｡･:*˚:✧｡

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atinystraynstay · 11 months ago

Text

Lover - Choi Jongho

Synopsis: "I thought a love like yours could never be experienced."

Pairing: Choi Jongho x reader

Genre: so much fluff! can't help it when it comes to imagining what domesticated life with Jongho could be like

Word Count: 1.5k

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"Sweetheart? Do you want honey in your tea?" Jongho called out from the kitchen. "Yes, please!"

You were currently situated in the living room, a throw blanket over your lap. Your mother had just sent you photos from your childhood that she found extras of. You asked her to send them to you because you wanted to give Jongho a glimpse of your childhood. You had them in a small pile for the two of you to look through.

You overheard the clinking of what you assume to be a spoon against the cups. Jongho was the type of guy that never overlooked any detail. He liked to be precise, especially when it comes to you. His greatest pride was his ability to look after you.

Glancing up at him, you watched him slowly move into the room. You couldn't help but giggle as he looked nervous that he might slip some of the tea into his head. To help him, you moved the photos to beside you so you could stand up to take one of the mugs from him.

He silently thanked you before setting his mug on the coffee table. Jongho always preferred to let the tea cool down slightly, so he wouldn't burn his tongue. "So how old are some of these pictures?" He asked curiously. "I think some of them are from when I was just 3 or 4, so I was pretty young, so you've been warned."

Jongho rolled his eyes playfully before leaning over to press a lingering kiss into your head. "Would you please stop talking bad about the love of my life, hmm? I quite love how she looks," he murmured into your skin.

His arm wrapped around your shoulder, letting his fingers run up and down your forearm comfortingly. You nodded your head, accepting Jongho's request. You just weren't the biggest fan of your more awkward stages of life.

However, if it was one thing about Jongho, he would always be there to affirm your worth. Your confidence has only grown since getting together. But maybe that was because he quite literally was everything you wished for when you were younger. Setting the photo album in your lap, you opened the first page. There was a photo of you, maybe less than an hour old. It was the photograph of you right after your birth. You were red in the face, probably from all the crying you did being so new to the world. Your hands were closed in tiny fists, eyes squeezed shuts. You cringed slightly seeing your newborn self. Jongho, on the other hand, was in awe to see the beginning of your life.

The next few pages were filled with photos before you entered school. They were photos of you dressed in Halloween costumes, like the one where your grandmother insisted you and your cousins should be pumpkins together when you were 3. Or your favorite when you were 2, the duck costume.

"Mom told me that I basically lived in that costume for the rest of the year," you laughed.

Jongho laughed along with you. He loved seeing the joy on your young face. In nearly every photo, you had a wide smile on your face. You were innocent, not exposed to the stresses of life. All that concerned you was being able to wear that fluffy duck Halloween costume,

As you go through the pages, you were introduced the the versions of yourself you seemed to have forgotten about. There were several photos of you playing different sports - soccer, taekwondo, swimming, and even a summer playing t-ball. Some of the photos were taken by your father at the sporting events, while others were photos taken by a professional photographer to mark the season.

"I always knew my girl was outgoing," Jongho commented. He leaned over to kiss your cheek lingeringly. You rolled your eyes at his comment, but it didn't hide the smile curling on your lips.

Flipping to the next page, you noticed your are entering the school photos. You groaned at the photos from kindergarten and 1st grade, especially. You felt like you were an awkward kid. Your mom cut your hair short when you were younger because you refused to let her help you brush it. You also began to wear glasses. Not to mention the braces that would come on later. A trifecta.

There were of course good memories from your childhood. But you wished to forget these more awkward moments. You were bullied quite a bit in your younger years which took a toll on your mental health well into your adult years.

"Have you ever considered cutting your hair short again?" Jongho asked.

You quickly looked at him, frowning. You pulled your now long hair over the front of your shoulder, looking down at you. That was part of the reason you were so hesitant about getting a haircut now and then. You were afraid of too many inches being taken off and not feeling confident. Your long hair was opposite from what it was when you felt like you were at your lowest. "Do you not like my hair now?" You whispered.

This time, Jongho looked at you. A frown was evident on his lips. He honestly could care less how long or how short your hair was. He thought you were adorable as a child. From just looking at the photos, he could see the bold color of your eyes. That was the first thing he fell for when it came to you.

"No, sweet girl, I love your hair now. But I also like the short hair on you when you were younger. It showed your gorgeous face off to the whole world," he explained. His voice was gentle. He was trying to put the pieces together for your reaction. The last thing Jongho ever wanted to do was upset you.

"Yeah right, Jongho," you sighed as you went to go flip to the next page.

However, he stopped you. His hand rested on top of yours, fingers gently caressing the back of your hand. "I mean it, pretty baby. You were adorable then, you're adorable now. It's amazing to see your journey through photos of how you've grown into the person you are today." His free hand ran over one of the photos.

"You're too good to me, honey," you sighed. Your head rested on his head on your shoulder. "It's the truth," he pouted. "Why don't you believe me?"

You peered up to see Jongho looking at you. You sat up the moment you could tell he was genuinely upset. You furrowed your eyebrows as you turned your body towards him, so you could have a proper conversation. Your left foot was tucked underneath your right which was dangling over the edge of the couch. Your gaze fixated on your hands as you fiddled with them a bit, your anxiety starting to increase.

"I guess I just never saw my worth as a kid, you know? I had people telling me that I wasn't good enough, that I wasn't beautiful. It was hard growing up in my small town where it seemed everyone fit in except me," you explained. "Don't get me wrong. I'm glad I never fit into the mold, but it was still hard."

Jongho gently reached over to hold your hands in his. He lifted them up, kissing your knuckles lingeringly before setting your joined hands in between your bodies. His thumbs gently caressed the back of your hands to try to ease any negative emotions stirring inside of you.

"My sweet girl, my love," he cooed. "Believe me when I say this. You were beautiful then, you are beautiful now. I'm honestly jealous of the people who got to grow up with you because they were lucky. But I guess I'm the lucky one that gets to experience your present and future."

Your heart swelled at his sentiment. You still kept your gaze locked on your interlocked hands. Noticing, Jongho squeezed them which caused you to finally meet his eyes. Your lover was smiling at you with endearment.

"Why don't we stop looking back at the past for a moment? Hmm? We can focus on our future, talk about everything you want to accomplishment and do in this life because I'm not going anywhere," he teased teasingly.

You nodded at his suggestion. Leaning forward, you pressed a lingering kiss into the side of his face. A soft "thank you" was whispered into his skin which caused his cheeks to heat up. Even after all this time, he still blushed like he did on the first date. If anything, the emotions he felt towards you were stronger than ever before.

That night, the two of you cuddled up on the couch. You talked about your goals for the next five, next ten years. While you were uncertain of the obstacles you might encounter, there was a reassuring aspect knowing Jongho was in it for the long haul.

He was devoted to you. He was in love with all parts of you - past, present, and future. And he would spend the rest of his days reminding you of that.

That's what he wanted, at least - to be your lover unconditionally.

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writing-whump · 4 months ago

Text

Waking up

Isaiah wakes up after the operation. Mention of open chest wound, though not too detailed. Emeto down below.

Matthew sat down on the chair. Then got up just as quickly, barely stopping himself from pacing.

Seline sat straight on the other side, hands next to Isaiah's. She knew he had the operation, she was wrapping her head around the heart problems...but seeing it, seeing him like this, pale, unresponsive, with sterile thin gauze covering the long opening wound in the center of his chest...a gaping long line, like a bloody chasm-

Matthew gulped down audibly, gaze jumping from one corner of the room to the other.

Seline gave him an angry look. "You can't throw up here. If you can't stand it, go away."

Matthew flinched. He flinched almost everytime she spoke to him since the first talk with the doctor.

"No. I-I can take it." The red-haired man set his jaw resolutely, glaring at the opposite wall. After a minute he dared to flick his gaze towards Isaiah again. Like he was building up a tolerance to that sight.

Seline let out a tiny sigh. On some level she relized she was pretty hard on him. Espcially now, when they had bigger problems. But something about her seething resentment towards Matthew held her together. It was an easier emotion to focus on than the breath-taking sense of betrayal or stomach-clenching fear for Isaiah.

Or the horrible guilt in the back of her neck, like pressure gathering that told her this was all her damn fault for not noticing on her own.

For not being close enough, present enough to witness this, to help, to be someone they wanted help from.

Matthew was back on the chair, squirming on it. He braced his elbows on the matrass next to Isaiah taking slow measured breaths through his mouth.

Shouldn't blood be an easier sight for wolves?

Seline didn't know why it didn't bother her that much. There was more of a fascinated distant mortification that was a hole to Isaiah's inner organs, only with a bit of sterile gauze to protect it. She had to actively force herself to look away, cause it kept dragging her eyes towards it like a magnet.

Time lost all its meaning. Bodily functions didn't have any effect on them. There was no way either of them could eat or sleep or leave, and ignoring any tiredness in face of the tension in her back or Matthew's gritted teeth was easy.

This was the most alert emergency mode and it would probably crush them later. But right now the adrenaline was like 10 coffees in their veins.

So Seline had no idea how much time actually passed—it could have been a few minutes or two hours—when Isaiah started shifting around on the bed.

A soft groan escaped him and his eyes fluttered for a minute as he fought the grogginess.

Seline and Matt were both standing by that point, each from one side, breaths held back.

"Isaiah?" Seline called out softly.

Isaiah's face scrunched up, but his eyes finally opened. "Hmm? Where..." He looked to her, then to Matthew, scanning the room in confusion.

His eyes drifted downwards to his chest, the hospital gown, the blanket draped over him, several tubes and IVs sticking out of his hands.

The machine he was hooked to started beeping immediately as Isaiah's breath caught in shock.

Seline's put her hand against his cheek, coaxing him to look up at her. "Hey, hey, hey. Look at me, alright? At me, not there. You are fine, you are safe, everything’s gonna be okay."

Matthew's hand was on his shoulder, applying the gentlest pressure.

"What'-what's-"

"You had a surgery after a heart attack," Seline settled on the truth. "But everything worked out. It was successful. You are okay and gonna be completely okay."

"Why-why is that-" His green eyes were wide and his breathing was hitching from how fast it came.

Matthew grabbed Isaiah's forearm, palm wrapped around his elbow. Isaiah's fingers curled into Matthew's shirt in a vice grip.

Seline mirrored the movement, taking Isaiah's other hand into hers, the other still on his face, stroking gently up and down his cheek. "Shhhhh. We are here. We are here. You will be alright in no time. They are just letting some pressure and swelling up. It will go down and they will stich you up in a few hours. Your shadow will heal everything and you'll be all good in no time."

Isaiah's head twitched in her hand towards Matthew, like he wanted to check it added up.

Seline knew, she knew how close they were, all three together. That this was good, having them both by his side. She had never felt threatened by the closeness Matthew and Isaiah shared. All the experiences and commonalities, the quiet understanding, the open affection.

Now it made her feel like an outsider, disgusting bitter taste in her mouth.

"It burns..." Isaiah said, mouth twisting, looking at Matthew. He was gripping his hand like he was about to break it. "Like silver."

"Yeah, I know, buddy," Matthew said gently, his face drawn in pained lines. "They had to use silver cause your shadow was healing up all they did, even sedated."

Isaiah looked ready to cry at that admission.

"But not the opening wound," Seline interjected. The doctor's explanation ran through her mind nonstop. "Just around the blocked artery. Once they sew up your chest, the anesthesia wears off and you will be able to heal it up with your shadow. It will be just around the heart that will take a bit. But patients after these operations get home quickly, in just a few days after."

Isaiah nodded shakily, his breathing still fast, but not rising anymore. His hold on her hand tightened.

Seline brushed some of the black curls out of his face, then kissed his forehead. "Everything's alright. You are safe. We're right here and not leaving."

Isaiah looked towards the ceiling. "I don't like hospitals," he said, lips twitching in an attempted smile that couldn't hold.

"Nobody does, man," Matt said quietly.

Isaiah swallowed heavily, lips chapped and dry. He squirmed in their hold like he was testing how much he could move.

His body jerked suddenly and he looked down and up again, breathing in deeply.

"Shhhhhh. What is it?" Seline said, trying to catch his attention with her hand still pressed against the side of his face, thumb rubbing up his temple.

"My mom." Isaiah forced his eyes closed than opened them to little slits like the light was too much. "She-she was in a hospital with her heart...send her home and she died of it." The jittery twitchy quality to his movements was persisting, his head flinching towards Matthew. "Am I going to die?"

Matthew paled more than Isaiah's hospital sheets. "No! Of course not. No way we are letting you die, right, Sel?"

Isaiah's eyes went to hers in such fearful hope her heart squeezed, eyes burning. "You are not dying, baby. You are very strong, very resilient. They are taking good care of you."

"We wouldn't let them hurt you," Matthew said in a gruff voice. "Promise."

Isaiah looked towards the ceiling, straining in their hold with involuntary movements. "I want to go home," he said in a small voice.

"We will go home soon," Seline reassured him, leaned down to kiss his forehead. "It won't take long. You'll go to sleep for a minute, your shadow will come back and them you will heal up completely at home. All good."

"We won't leave your side for a second," Matthew added. He was focusing on Isaiah's face intentely to not mind the covered wound. He held Isaiah's forearm still up in the air with one hand, rubbing his shoulder with the other steadily.

"Hurts..." Isaiah whined. A single tear slid down his cheek on the side she was stroking it. "I don't feel good."

Seline thumbed the tear away, pressing her forehead gently to his. "Just keep looking at us, okay? None of this is important. You are okay."

"Want to go home," Isaiah repeated. The coherence was waning, his voice growing weaker. He blinked in exhaustion, another tear coming up.

Seline fought tears of her own with all she had, heart beating painfully against his ribs. She let go of Isaiah's hand in order to push the call button on the side.

It felt horrible, cause knowing he was awake, they would sedate him and check him if they could close the wounds...which was good, but it scared her that he would be closing his eyes again so soon.

Isaiah shuddered as the doors opened, people rushing in. "I don't-I don't want-"

"Just for a bit, buddy," Matthew said softly, cupping the side of Isaiah's face for a second before letting go. "We'll be here, when you wake up. First thing you see, I swear."

When the whole team of people came fussing over, Seline was forced to let go of Isaiah's hand. She never wanted to be a doctor more than in that moment to just know what was happening, what they were doing with the IVs, what they were checking him for.

A nurse ushered them out, saying they were about to roll him away to close the chest.

Seline stood in the hallway a little lost how quickly everything was happening.

A muffled groan interrupted her thoughts.

Matthew was leaning against the wall with an arm, pressing his palm against his lips with a nauseous expression.

He really held out that long for Isaiah, hadn't he?

Seline's heart wrenched at the realisation. She stepped closer, putting her hand on his elbow. "Come on. I saw a bathroom on the way."

Matthew let her steer him away from the wall to the small one-stall bathroom around the corner. She shut the door behind them to give them privacy, glad she could follow him in.

Matthew gagged against his hand, lowered himself down to the toilet in haste and burped emptily over it. "Ugh."

Seline hesitated, but then crouched down next to him as Matt shivered, gagging again. "That was a horrible sight," she agreed.

Matthew hiccuped, burying his head inside the bowl. His shoulders rolled with another empty gag. Then another muffled noise that sounded dangerously close to a sob.

Seline winced, risking to put her hand in the middle of his back. Her eyes were burning and her throat was all closed up. "Just get it up. You'll feel better in a minute. Deep breaths."

Matthew's shoulders hitched, wrapping both hands around his stomach as he heaved and heaved.

It made her suddenly wonder how much of this was Matthew's shadow reacting badly to stress, to having so many strangers around. How much did the pack behaviour play into this? Stressing him about the fact that was their pack leader too?

Shadow wolves weren't good with strained situations, emotions running amok easily. And Matthew's shadow was a hassle on good days.

She rubbed his back up and down gently, then added more pressure, thumping at his shoulder blades.

The motion ushered up a sickly burp and finally a gush of vomit spilled out.

"There you go," Seline said, stroking wide circles on his back.

Matthew let out a whine. His stomach was gurgling so loudly it echoed through the tiny bathroom. His whole back arched into her hand as another wave of sick splattered into the toilet, liquid against liquid.

He coughed against a choking noise before straightening up, nose and lips dripping with saliva.

Seline tore a bunch of toilet paper and handed it over. When he didn't take it, she gently dabbed at his face on her own, then threw it into the toilet and flushed.

"A bit better now?"

Matthew swayed dizzily, grabbing onto the porcelain rim for support. His eyes were glazed over and shimmering with moisture.

Seline made a move to stand. "I'll get you some water."

His hand on her wrist stopped her. Matthew didn't tug at it, just held it weakly. "Wait."

She lowered herself back to her knees with a sigh. "What is it?"

"Just-just stay." He looked away in shame, sniffling. "Please."

Even her anger didn't reach that far. And after seeing Isaiah rolled away with that gaping hole in his chest...

She pulled her hand out of his grasp only to take it properly. A tiny squeeze.

Matthew hang his head, not looking up, his elbow braced against the toilet seat. His breathing was evening out and he didn't seem so nauseous anymore.

Seline couldn't stand that look no longer, reaching over impulsively to wrap her arms around him.

Matthew gasped in suprise before letting himself sink into her embrace. His hands came around her waist, pressing tightly like that was all that he wanted the whole time.

"It's okay. We're gonna be okay," she said into his hair, burying her nose into it. She hadn't realized how much she craved this, how much more complete she felt with Matt pressed against her like this.

They held onto each other in that tiny bathroom, Isaiah's tears fresh in their minds.

#sickfic #emeto #heart attack #post operation #waking up #hurt/comfort #whump #my writing #werewolf wip #Isaiah #Matthew #I have actually seen something like this on a practicum on intenstive care in cardiology #not that the patiens woke up like Isaiah had

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m00nsbaby · 1 year ago

Text

Heartbreak feels so good.

Jake Lockley + Khonshu x F! Reader.

Tags & warnings. Mentions of violence and being hurt, angst, mentions of kidnapping, cursing.

Word count. 4.7

Summary. He left as quickly as he appeared in your life.

No, in fact, you took it upon yourself to remove him from it, piece by piece, until there was nothing left of him.

You never regretted it; your love was never above your morals, and you could live with that even on days when it felt like your heart had been ripped out of your chest. But there was something about the nights that made you miss him more.

The way the moonlight bathed you through the window was a constant reminder that it wasn't just your imagination trying to save you from your impending loneliness. He had cradled you in his arms, or perhaps, you had cradled him in yours, who knows.

Now, you were left with a life without them.

Without him.

Not waking up to the sound of your alarm was a strange way to start the day, not as strange as the rest was going to be, but it was quite fitting for the situation.

The headache came in stabbing waves, and opening your eyes was the icing on the cake, although fortunately, everything was dark. Had your nap gotten out of hand? It wouldn't be the first time you slept for 24 hours straight.

Everything was relatively calm, with one tiny detail you noticed after a few seconds. You weren't in your room.

In fact, you had no idea where you were.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit." you whispered as you pushed the sheets over your body. A sharp pain ran through your entire leg, combined with one on the opposite side, at the level of your ribs. "Shit!" you said again, this time with a slightly louder tone.

This should be the part where you cried; your mind immediately went to the most logical conclusion at the moment: years of walking around the city at night with your headphones on had led to this, a kidnapping.

A pretty stupid kidnapping if you thought about it because many of your things were still in your pocket – your phone, headphones, some crumpled dollars. On the bureau across the room, some of your belongings were resting too; you recognized your purple folder decorated with stickers, but it seemed to have barely survived as it looked more damaged than usual.

You also took a moment to look at yourself. You were wearing only a long T-shirt that wasn't yours, way too big for your body, but it gave you the freedom to notice that your ankle and leg were bandaged, and you could also feel the slight pressure of the fabric around your ribs.

"You woke up." You almost screamed in fear when a figure that you could barely distinguish appeared at the door, speaking with a curious accent.

Of course, your first reaction was to grab the first thing you could find and throw it with all the force you could muster, considering your broken leg and ribs. He barely managed to raise his hands to shield himself from the glass of water that shattered into a thousand pieces on the floor.

Jake had forgotten how much things hurt when he wasn't wearing the suit.

"Ouch! Okay, okay, okay, I understand!" He raised both hands in a gesture of innocence, taking a step back but staying close to the door frame. "I get it, really! You're scared, it's weird, I know, I know, just let me… No!"

There went his favorite lamp. And worse, it didn't even serve as defense because you ended up groaning in pain, clutching your ribs.

"Please, stop throwing things!" Jake looked sadly at the broken lamp for a few seconds before looking at the empty space in the room. He stayed silent for a few seconds, as if he were listening to someone.

He nodded silently to nothing and then sighed.

Great, you got kidnapped by a crazy person.

"Just let me explain, okay?" He didn't want to intimidate you further, although he doubted it was even possible. He crouched down to pick up the three pieces into which the object had shattered; the last thing he needed now in his apartment was this mess. "Please."

You had seen enough movies to know that sometimes the best option for survival was to be kind.

"Okay." It was the only thing you said as you tried your best to sit on the bed in a more comfortable position.

"Have you heard of that strange vigilante with the white suit and ridiculous cape…"

If only you had heard Khonshu's reaction as he cursed Jake from the corner of the room.

"Well, not so ridiculous cape, who's been on the streets for a few months?"

You pursed your lips and had to force yourself to continue the conversation. Of course, you knew him; you sometimes shared photos of him on the internet, the few that were available and of poor quality. You even remembered commenting "He's so fucking cool!!!" on some fan page.

Those with at least 15 followers.

"Yeah, the one who looks like a mummy on steroids."

"Wow, that's new."

"What does he have to do with you kidnapping me?"

"You're not kidnapped."

"I can't leave."

"Technically, no."

"Then I am kidnapped."

Jake sighed, giving up.

"It was an accident; you ended up in the middle of one of his missions by mistake. You got injured, although you probably already felt that."

"And that's why you kidnapped me?"

"Ay por dios." He pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath. "You have a broken leg, you twisted your ankle, and you have some broken ribs. I couldn't leave you like that; you lost consciousness quickly."

You nodded slowly; it was clear you weren't convinced yet.

"So you just decided to be a good Samaritan? You could have taken me to the hospital, you know, instead of kidnapping me."

"They'll ask questions at the hospital, and that will lead to the police. I couldn't take you there."

"Plus, I don't have medical insurance."

"Well, I didn't know that, but it's one more point in my favor."

"It's still not a good enough excuse to…"

"You're not kidnapped!" His accent became more noticeable as he lost his patience; that was interesting.

"So, the masked guy is an idiot who leaves the injured because of him to their fate."

You didn't have the strength or energy to argue anymore; this whole situation was a joke without humor, although it didn't sound so impossible.

You once read about someone who wanted to sue Spider-Man for the same thing. Or had it been Daredevil? Too much pain in your body and too many superheroes with red suits.

"Technically, no."

"Technically, yes."

"He's taking responsibility for what he did."

Your eyes met his, and he cleared his throat.

"You're lying; you just don't want me to scream or call the police."

"I'm not lying to you."

"Prove it."

The last thing you saw before losing consciousness for the second time in 24 hours was the shining white ceremonial suit in the darkness, with a faint glow that seemed to emanate from it.

The good side was that technically, you weren't kidnapped.

The second time you woke up wasn't as difficult as the first. The headache had almost completely faded, and at least now you had a clearer context of where you were, partially, but less lost than before.

"Hello again." Jake looked at you from a chair next to the bed, holding a book that he was frowning at. He looked like a child who had discovered that not all books have pictures.

"I feel like I've been run over by a steamroller," you whispered without moving from your spot.

Jake thought about how lucky you were not to see Khonshu; otherwise, you would have woken up with a giant beak in front of your face and two empty eye sockets examining you.

"You'll feel better someday," he joked, flipping a page.

"So, this is your fault?"

"Technically," that damn word again, "it's your fault for not watching where you walk."

"You're an idiot," you said, eyes closed, not raising your voice.

"I'm sorry."

"It's fine." It wasn't fine; you were in the most bizarre situation you had ever experienced. "At least did you stop the bad guy?"

"I killed him, actually."

You opened one eye and looked at him. He looked back at you.

"I was kidding."

"To joke, you have to be funny."

Khonshu laughed, and Jake wished he could rip his own ears off; it was a sound he hadn't liked for some time now.

"I'm Jake Lockley." The boy leaned slightly to offer his hand in greeting. "You don't have to tell me your name; I read all your papers. The ones that survived."

"My backpack?"

"Didn't make it."

"That hurts more than my leg." You confessed, bringing both hands to your face. "Or my ribs."

"I'll get you another one."

"I don't want another, Jake Lockley." You still had your face covered with your hands. "I want to cry."

"You can do it, I won't judge you."

"It's me who's judging you." Your voice broke within seconds; the fatigue was finally starting to hit. "Why couldn't Spider-Man rescue me?" The sob you let out was ridiculous to Jake, who had to contain himself from laughing.

"I'll get you an aspirin." He placed the book on the bed, getting up from his chair. "Do you like juice?"

"Pineapple," you replied between sobs.

Jake left the room with a smile on his face, while Khonshu, in complete silence, continued to watch you.

By the third day, you had already assimilated many things. The main one was that, according to the internet, broken ribs take approximately 6 weeks to heal, a sprained ankle takes 12 weeks, and the legs, if lucky, take less than 8 weeks. So, you were looking at a minimum of 6 weeks there before Jake would agree to let you go.

The logical part of you eventually accepted the deal; you knew you didn't have family or close friends who could take care of you now that you could barely move.

"Are you comfortable?" He placed you on the individual sofa in his small living room and arranged the cushions around you to avoid any discomfort.

That was something you had gotten used to, being carried by him, having his hand around your waist while he helped you walk to the bathroom, and his scolding in Spanish when you tried to move on your own.

"Maybe if you had done it shirtless, it would have been more fun."

"Que graciosa." He rolled his eyes as he handed you the TV remote. It was rare for him to be home at this hour, but you didn't mind the company.

He sat on the larger sofa, ready to watch whatever you chose. Of course, you didn't stay quiet for long.

"How does your suit work?"

"Nanotech."

"Bullshit. Why would you have a nanotechnology cape?"

"It's a complicated explanation."

"I have time. About 1,008 hours."

"Are you always this annoying?"

"Sometimes more."

"There's a God involved. Khonshu, the Egyptian god of the moon."

You nodded in silence, watching him attentively. At this point, it was probably impossible for any regular citizen dealing with superhero stuff all week to be surprised by any kind of story.

"He saved me." Thankfully, Marc couldn't hear this, or he would beat up his own body to hear such nonsense. "I work for him, he granted me the healing suit and all that." He shrugged as if it was no big deal.

"So, you can see him?"

"More than I'd like, yes." He didn't let you ask more; he spoke quickly when he noticed your intentions to dig further into the story. "Do you like instant noodles?"

"I love them." You watched him closely as he stood up from the sofa.

As he passed by you on his way to the kitchen, you stretched a bit to take Jake's hand and stop him.

Your request for a glass of pineapple juice was completely silenced by Khonshu's voice.

Hathor. It resonated in his ears.

It lasted a few seconds, but Jake felt suffocated. At least 3 different images, and in all of them, you were there. Or so it seemed; your clothes didn't match anything he had seen before, and the only clue he got about what was happening were the angles from which he saw you.

In the last one, you were underneath him, or so it seemed.

Then, an overwhelming feeling of sadness flooded his chest.

"Jake?"

"Huh?"

"What's wrong?"

"Deja vu," he said, blinking a couple of times. He let go of your hand and hurried to the kitchen, trying to distance himself from you as much as his small apartment allowed him.

You were sitting on the neatly made bed, wearing a dress you didn't love, especially when it revealed the bandages decorating your leg. But it had been Jake's choice, who decided after a week that maybe you couldn't live solely in his shirts.

However much he liked how petite it made you look.

He seemed so excited about the idea of getting clothes for you that you couldn't bring yourself to say no.

You hummed softly as you browsed through your music library when the bedroom door opened. You didn't expect Jake back so early.

"You came back quickly. What were you—" When you looked up, you fell completely silent.

That was Jake, but he wasn't?

His expression was tenser, so was his posture, but more importantly, his iris had a bright white color, except for the outer circle.

Something in your mind clicked immediately. Was this what he meant when he told you that Khonshu wanted to meet you? If it wasn't for the obvious, you'd think this was some kind of prank. You were never a person sensitive to the supernatural, but you could swear that the entire energy of the place changed as soon as he appeared.

"Is that you?" You whispered as he took steps closer to the bed. He was examining you, just as he had been doing since you arrived, but this was the first time you could feel it.

He nodded silently.

"Thank you for saving me." You smiled, which sent a shiver down the god's spine. "Jake told me it was you who asked him to do it, so thank you."

He sat on the bed, right by your side, and you moved your phone aside to show that he had your full attention.

"What were you doing?" Just when you thought Jake's voice couldn't get any deeper, Khonshu managed to surprise you. His voice sounded like it had an extra layer of depth.

"Listening to music, waiting for Jake to come." Your eyes were focused on his, and no matter how much you wanted to look away, it was physically impossible, as if they had a magnet that instantly drew you back to them.

"There?" He was aware of the technological advancements of humans, but both Steven and Marc had the most basic phones one could find nowadays.

You nodded, chuckling softly as you took your earphones to carefully put one in his ear and the other in yours.

"Wanna try?"

He nodded, silently.

"I'm going to press play, okay? So you won't be caught off guard." For a moment, he felt stupid because someone… No, not someone, a human was treating him like he was made of glass.

He didn't complain, especially when the music began to play.

The cable of the earphones kept you close, and you stared as he closed his eyes. His brow furrowed unconsciously; there was something new and intense about listening to music that way.

It felt so intimate and sounded so clear that Khonshu was reminded of the wonders humans were capable of.

Flashbacks, just like the ones Jake had experienced a few days earlier, flooded him. In these flashbacks, a beautiful young woman spun around him, dancing with complete joy, making him laugh and follow her clumsily.

"Hathor, that's enough." He didn't recognize his own voice inside his head. The girl took his hand, and he held it steady so she could twirl around on her own axis, her hair going everywhere as the music filled both of their ears. "Isn't it wonderful, Khonshu?" It was like listening to you. "The music?" "You are wonderful, my dear." His human body responded in amusing ways to the girl, blushing his cheeks and feeling what some called butterflies in his stomach.

The memory disappeared before he could receive a kiss from his beloved.

He blinked rapidly when he opened his eyes, trying to bring himself back to the reality where you were looking at him, with a million questions in your head.

"Dear?" He murmured one last time before his daydream vanished. In a matter of seconds, he stood up, causing you to startle in surprise.

"Khonshu?" Your voice mixed with hers in his mind, sounding almost identical. The corporeal being increased the intensity of everything by 200%, and it almost made the human body he had borrowed faint.

He fled from you, fled from the house.

And Jake never told you that accepting Khonshu into his body to let him get close to you felt like having his bones broken one by one, making him feel claustrophobic and disgusted.

In the second week, there was a moment when you momentarily thought you were in the presence of Khonshu because of the expression on Jake's face.

He looked upset, scared, and anxious, all bundled up together. It was 3 in the morning, and you were on your second glass of water while leaning against the kitchen counter, still sore but becoming easier to bear.

"I thought you wouldn't come today," you whispered with a faint smile as he got rid of his cap, letting it fall anywhere in the living room. He didn't respond, following you into the kitchen and looking at you intently for a few seconds.

Up close, you could see that his eyes were red and irritated.

You didn't say anything when he hugged you. Not even when he squeezed you in his arms, causing your ribs to ache. You just raised a hand and gently ran your fingers through his curls, trying to offer some comfort.

It was only then that you noticed Jake was trembling.

"And is your job to be a vigilante?"

"My job is to obey Khonshu." He rolled his eyes, certain that you had had this conversation on previous occasions. He could hear the cereal crunching in your mouth as he waited for his to soften with the milk.

Steven deprived him of the few pleasures in life he could have, without even knowing it. Unfortunately, real milk was one of them.

"And what do you do for him?"

"Things."

"What kind of things?"

"How can you eat the cereal like that? Doesn't it feel like it's scraping your palate?"

"How can you eat it when it turns into a thick, disgusting soup?"

"Good point." He took a spoonful of his cereal. It was just right.

"In the daylight, you look completely different."

"How so?"

"I don't know, you just do."

Jake didn't say it out loud, but it was quite funny considering that he was, in fact, someone quite different, or something quite similar.

"How's your leg doing? Do you think it's getting better?" An expert at changing the subject.

"I think so. Some days it hurts a lot, but it's only been two weeks and a few days."

"Are you counting the days to leave?"

"Yes." You pursed your lips, and Jake looked away before you could correct yourself. "Because I don't want to leave."

Since you arrived, you took over Jake's bed against your will. He insisted on sleeping on a sad inflatable mattress that squeaked every time he moved.

One early morning, you felt the mattress sink beside you, and you didn't even have time to be startled because the scent of your temporary roommate's cologne filled your lungs in a matter of seconds.

"Are you okay?" You whispered without turning to look at him, keeping your eyes closed even when you felt him wrap an arm around your waist. "Okay, you can sleep here then," you continued when you received no response to your first question.

He pulled you closer to his body, and you didn't protest; instead, you turned to bury yourself in his chest, seeking more of his warmth. It seemed the pain was more bearable when your muscles warmed up.

Jake moved away from you, just enough to see your face.

You opened your eyes as he held your chin and gently pulled it to bring you closer to him. The last thing you saw before closing your eyes again were those enormous white irises fixed on you.

He kissed you. He kissed you until your lips hurt, and your chin from the firmness of his grip. But you didn't want to pull away; there was something so familiar about his lips that you wondered if it was because they were actually Jake's lips or if there was something more that you weren't understanding.

You could swear he caressed and kissed you for hours, although the next day you had no evidence to confirm whether it was a memory or a strange dream.

"Have you ever considered quitting?" You stirred your cereal in your plate, refusing to look up at him.

By week number 4, your encounters with Jake had become increasingly rare. He was quiet, distant, never with you, but more aggressive than usual, and his shirts filled the washing machine with blood, making you feel nauseous from time to time.

Wasn't the suit supposed to be worn during his missions? What kind of missions was he taking?

"Quit?" he echoed.

"To stop working for him." You felt uncomfortable mentioning his name after countless nights spent kissing, of which you weren't even sure if Jake was aware because he never brought it up.

He was aware. How could he not be when every night he felt physically and emotionally crushed?

"I can't do that." And he was right. If it were up to him, he would flee without caring about the consequences, but Jake was there for the sake of Marc and Steven. He had no problem with his efforts going unrecognized by them; he knew they were better off not knowing he existed.

"Why?" You gently lifted his chin with your fingers, making him look at you. It was a way to remind him that he wasn't alone, that you were there.

"I can't," he repeated softly. He closed his eyes, resting his chin against your hand as a puppy would.

You leaned in and, this time, when the edge of the table pressed against your ribs, it didn't hurt as much. You kissed the boy's lips.

"It's killing you." It was the last thing you said before getting up to collect the almost full plates from the table.

Jake had a kind of day off as your stay was coming to an end. Your body was hardly hurting anymore, and for several days, you could walk on your own. Now, all that was left was to enjoy your last time there, and you were doing just that.

Your legs were resting on top of Jake's while you both watched a silly program about people addicted to eating strange things.

"You should be on there for eating softened cereal," you said, trying not to laugh as your cheek was pressed against his chest, his arm around your shoulders.

"And you should be there for drinking pineapple juice like it's water; that stuff is going to kill you," he retorted, rolling his eyes but laughing.

"I'll die happy," you clarified, clearing your throat after a moment of silence to get his attention. "Jake?"

"Yes?"

"I don't want to go."

"Then don't go."

"You know I can't do that." And yes, he knew. He knew you couldn't stay in his apartment forever and that even if you continued whatever you had, there was no guarantee you would still be interested in him from a different perspective.

How would you react to knowing about Marc and Steven? Or about the things he did at night when his hands were stained with blood?

"You won't push me away, will you?" Jake had never heard himself so vulnerable, but a few days ago, he had realized that it was worth lowering his guard when it came to you. "I don't want to be alone."

"I won't, Jake." You whispered with a small smile, extending your pinkie finger to him.

He intertwined his pinkie with yours, trying not to laugh.

"Pinkie promise," you said, squeezing his pinkie with yours.

You didn't find out what happened on the show beyond that person who ate dressing with everything. You were too distracted by Jake's lips to pay attention to anything else.

For the fourth mental breakdown of Jake that you had to witness, you were fed up. Not with him, not with the repeated breakdowns, but with knowing that it was Khonshu who was tearing him apart. Sometimes physically, always mentally.

"You have to let him go," you said as soon as you saw him enter through the door, his white irises betraying that you were speaking to whom you wanted to talk.

"I can't," his voice echoed in your head, you were so used to hearing him whisper or not speak at all that it took you by surprise, indeed.

"Set him free, Khonshu." Your tone was threatening. Poor foolish girl, just because the deity never showed you what he was capable of didn't mean you were an exception. His rules were always fulfilled, for better or worse.

To him, your voice also merged with that of his former beloved.

"You're killing him." Your hands pushed him in the chest, you couldn't remember ever feeling so angry before, it burned inside you.

He didn't flinch.

"Dear…"

"I'm not her!" You exploded after a few seconds. "I'm not Hathor!"

"I'm not going to free Jake, we have a deal."

"I don't give a fuck about your stupid deal. He deserves to be free."

"You know nothing about him." His body leaned slightly to look at you, he tapped your nose. It was a condescending gesture, making you feel like a little child. "He's a broken man, my dear," he continued before you could correct him. "Even if I set him free, he would never be happy with that. He is created to protect other lives, not to live his own, do you understand?"

His tone was so calm that it scared you, but you didn't back down.

"And what do you know about being happy, huh?"

Oh, you were going to hit below the belt.

"You lost the one you loved, and you will never get her back." You spat the words without looking away. "No one will ever care about you again."

Lie. Lie. In fact, he had managed to convince you that you could be devoted to him in a short time, but Jake had become your priority even faster.

"You are free to leave." He swallowed hard, but the carefree expression on his face didn't vanish. There was still something more painful about it, as if it were Jake himself telling you this. "You're just a weakness for him, it's better if you go now before it's too late."

The eighth week was spent in your home, your empty and cold apartment that suddenly felt so unfamiliar to you.

Every morning, you would watch your cereal soften with the milk until it became repulsive. Apparently, your appetite had vanished without warning.

You avoided touching your phone because every time it was on, you would find missed messages and calls from Jake. Did you miss him? With every bone in your body, but you couldn't live knowing that Jake was slowly being torn apart, it wouldn't be good for you.

You simply hoped that he had found your note saying goodbye and thanking him, and every night you prayed to the moon that he was okay. That he wasn't hurt, that he would find a way out of where he was.

Perhaps that way, both of you could be happy together.

The truth was that you left him shattered. He questioned himself a million times about what he had done wrong and why you had suddenly fled without letting him know. Every night, his heart ached, and coming back to his apartment was the worst part of the day. He had never noticed how lonely and dark it was until you were gone. Whenever possible, he tried to locate you with his phone, and sometimes he read your old messages where you asked him to bring something special for dinner or simply more of the pineapple juice on different occasions. Although he supposed, based on your words in the letter, that you had left thinking you were doing him a favor, the truth was that he had never felt so lost.

#jake lockley #jake lockley x reader #marc spector #moon knight #steven grant #marc spector x reader #marc spector x you #moon knight x reader #steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #oscar isaac x you #oscar isaac x reader #oscar isaac #jake lockley x you

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etherfabric · 5 months ago

Text

That Thing from Your Past Wants to Talk (TW)

This is something I channeled, not a Pick A Card today. But it felt really important, so I'm posting it. As always, take what resonates, leave the rest.

This might get a little deep, so proceed with caution.

General Reading

Queen of Wands rx, The Moon rx, The Sun rx, Knight of Cups

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

It's over. It's truly, truly over. I remember how devastated you were. I was there. I know you didn't make it up. Not one detail. Either you were numb from head to toe, or you couldn't move one inch without hurting. Nothing made sense anymore, everything had lost its meaning, simple things you couldn't even fathom losing were gone. For good, you thought. And in a way, that's true. So many things are different now. People don't recognize you, and that's exactly how it's supposed to be. You were so... lonely. Among them all. No one batted an eye at your pain. Your tears and your laughter alike were nuisances to them at best, or just background noise like a heater rumbling in the next room. Not worth any attention whatsoever. You were practically invisible, except when they needed something. And that something never felt good. Being suddenly noticed? That was close to a miracle, and you would have done anything to keep being noticed. Well, you practically did do anything.

Now, you are free to do none of that. No more humiliating self-abandonment. No more ass kissing people who are a whole other level of fucked up than you. No more being at everyone's disposal at a moment's notice, no matter the time, cost, terms. No more waiting for reciprocity in vain, only to beat yourself up for your "foolish" (read: actually guided by the smidge of self worth you had left) hopes after being stood up nonchalantly yet again.

This is a time that brings you the relief you are so overdue for. The only problem: Me, this thing from the past, is still deep in your bones. And I can't leave without your help.

Let me out. Write about me, talk about me (even just to a stuffed animal, or a picture of someone), make music about me, paint me, knit me, crochet me, cook me - just give me another vessel than you.

I see how I hurt you. I don't want to. I knock to be let out, not hidden yet again. We are safe. We don't have to do it all at once (actually, that might be a bad idea), let's just go step by step. We might have to do this a couple of times, but it probably get easier with each round, like all things you do a lot (and especially those things that bring cathartic releases, right? Doesn't that sound nice? ...okay, it might not feel good while doing it, kinda like having to throw up bad food and tasting it again, but I swear you will feel lighter afterwards.)

I feel ready. Do you? How could we start, just a tiny bit? Maybe a haiku? A 10 second drawing? Putting together a playlist? Maybe just a tear? I'm game with anything. I won't go anywhere anyway (ha... sorry. Stuck trauma joke.)

#general reading #channeled message #tarot #tarot reading

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captain-mj · 2 years ago

Note

Give me part 2 to the mind thing or I'm going to throw rocks through your window, you dumb whore

(Pretty pls??)

I got you! Please don't throw rocks in my window

~~~~

Soap stayed with Ghost for a while, letting him calm down.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. That's one of my least favorites."

"Did he do stuff like that a lot?"

Rather than answer, Ghost's hands tightened on him. Soap nodded a little.

"You're not useless. Or weak. You never were."

"I sucked as a kid." Ghost mumbled.

Soap shook his head. "No. No kid deserves that." He pulled him up, holding his arm. "You didn't deserve that."

"Thanks, Johnny. Come on. Let's keep looking." Ghost tugged him along. He didn't pull his arm away so Soap didn't let go. They found their way to a new memory.

It was them at the bar, when Ghost wore the ski mask instead of his balaclava. Soap could feel the anxiety rolling off of him, but to his credit, he had stayed there. Everything was so sharp. Everything, down to the last detail in vivid color.

"I was nervous. Didn't realize how scary it would be." Ghost leaned into him.

Soap looked around. "Still no door. Are you sure that's how we leave?"

Ghost nodded. "Yes... It always is. Those things don't change." He sighed. "It usually doesn't take this long. I'm sorry."

Soap hit his shoulder. "You mention its usually in the memory of the accident. Do you want to check there?"

"I... suppose." Simon sighed. "It would be faster." He led Soap around, holding tighter to him. “It’s a rough memory. I didn’t react well. I just wanted to warn you.”

The door was on the other side of the house, where the front door would be. Soap hadn’t noticed before, but there was Christmas music playing behind it and he could see lights underneath it.

“You can keep your eyes closed.” Soap offered.

“No. I’m okay.” Ghost promised. “I see it a lot.”

Soap nodded and tugged him gently into the room. It was as he expected. All three of them executed and laid out for Ghost to find.

He was so young looking. A lot closer to his Ghost than the one he was traveling with, but still. Maybe only Soap’s age. The scars on his face were there. Freshly healing still.

Ghost had clearly been expecting this. He stared at the scene, eyes flickering over them before his lip twitched. The laughter started and Soap flinched. It sounded so harsh. Cold and distant and choking like it was being ripped out of him.

He stepped closer to him and then started to look around, searching for something.

Soap felt his breath catch when he saw the tiny feet under the blanket.

Ghost started laughing harder, hands going to the gun on his belt. Even though he knew Ghost lived, knew because how else could be here, he still panicked watching him put that gun to his mouth. Watching him take the safety off. He felt Simon grip onto him, hiding his face in his shoulder.

Ghost dropped the gun and threw up in a trash can, body shaking. He trembled and Soap wanted to break this memory too. Wanted to pull away and comfort him, but Simon gripped him hard, not letting him.

“I’ve never been able to cry easily.” Simon explained. “My dad... I don’t know. My initial psych eval said it was psychological block. Apparently, its common for people to laugh instead.”

Soap nodded and looked around. “No door... Sorry, really thought that one would work.”

Simon sighed. “It’s not usually this well hidden. I’m getting tired.”

Soap frowned. That wasn’t good. “Okay. How about you wait in the living room and I’ll come get you when I find it?”

Simon nodded and let Soap push him onto the couch. His lithe frame folding up and shivering. Soap put a few blankets on him and tucked him in.

He was supposed to have more time, but if Ghost was slipping, he’d need to hurry up.

Soap went through the remaining doors quickly not sparing them much time.

Ghost beneath the bleachers with the guy from the party, lips locked together.

Ghost putting a bullet through someone’s skull while sniping, excitement clear in his eyes. Probably his first kill if this was considered significant.

Ghost and him. He did pause at this one.

They had stopped at their doors and looked at each other. Soap had waited, wanting nothing more than to be invited in. Ghost looked at him and Soap glowed. It was weird, seeing how Ghost saw him. He looked perfect. Without flaw.

He knew for a fact that night he had been dirty and sweaty, hair messed up. But you wouldn’t know any of that from this memory. Soap looked perfect still.

On instinct, he checked above Ghost’s head.

“You don’t deserve him.”

Oh, Simon. Soap watched him turn away and go inside, locking the door. Ghost started undressing and Soap noticed there were some injuries that definitely had not been reported. He watched Ghost bandage himself and then a flush started to build across his cheeks.

Soap wished he still had Simon here to explain why this is considered important but the words above Ghost’s head appeared first.

“Maybe I could try.”

Try to deserve him? No. That didn’t seem right. Most of the words were very self depreciative, he doubted it meant that.

He stepped back from the memory.

Last door. The metal one at the end of the hallway. Maybe he should get...

No. He’d be fine. Simon could continue to relax. If the door wasn’t there, they’d need to restrategize anyway.

He leaned his head against the door, hearing a suffocating nothingness.

Fun.

Soap took a deep breath. No time to be a bitch, Johnny.

He opened it and walked in, surprised to find how bright it was.

They were in a medical facility. A pretty nice one from the looks of it.

A surgery gone wrong? He had heard of people on anesthetic not losing consciousness but being paralyzed. Maybe Ghost had gone through something similar.

That thought was dashed when they dragged him in. Simon was fighting hard, face unscarred for the most part. He fought as hard as he could but there was two of them and he clearly had been beaten, blood running down his face from his nose.

They all spoke Spanish, but it was garbled. They tied Simon down, locking his hands and feet down so he couldn’t move.

He glared at them, tensing up. “I’ll fucking kill you.”

“Sure you will, perro.” One of them cooed, like he was a child who said something funny.

They grabbed a scalpel, but they hadn’t given him anything. He frowned, not understanding what they were doing.

The scalpel went straight through his skin, cutting down the middle from his sternum to his belly button. Ghost didn’t scream. Just sat there, looking elsewhere.

Soap watched them, bile rising in his throat. They flayed him until Soap could see straight to his ribs. Could see a few of his organs if he dared to look hard enough. Could see Ghost’s heart beating and then watched as they grabbed needles.

He focused on Ghost’s face instead of whatever they were about to do. Watched as he bit straight through his lip, blood pouring down his chin.

The memory didn’t end so much as went fuzzy. Everything got softer around the edges and then it sharpened again suddenly. Ghost tied with his hands behind his back in a different place, a woman in his lap. She held his face and made kissing noise but he tried to turn away, nose wrinkling. Both of them were undressed, but Soap didn’t want to look down. His eyes looked around panicked and Soap noticed a man with skull makeup painted on, watching with this sick grin on his face.

Ghost’s pupils were huge, bottles of opiates scattered and shattered on the floor.

And right behind him, red door, black handle.

Soap fled. He went straight to Simon, dragging him up.

“Come on. We’re going to have to do this fast okay? I don’t want you to look.” He held Simon’s face. “When we get out of here, we’re going to have a bourbon and I’m going to do this again okay?”

“Do wh-” Soap connected their lips briefly.

“When you have stubble and look like my Simon, I’ll give you a better one, yeah?” He knew he sounded frantic, but he needed this to be over. Needed to have Ghost safe in a med bay where he belonged.

Simon blushed and right above his head. “Starstruck”

That was a much better word.

“Okay. Let’s go.” Simon held on to him. Soap felt him tense as they neared him, but he didn’t falter. His hands dug into Soap, but even if he bruised him, he wouldn’t have cared. As long as he stayed right next to him, Soap could’ve ignored anything.

He looked up at Simon. “Why did this memory go fuzzy?”

“I dissociated. I did that a lot during this time.”

“You’re good at it. Learn that during your first tour?”

“Home.” Simon smiled at him, leaning down so they were face to face.

“Noticed you had a thing for football players. Did you know I played?”

“Course you did.”

“Did you play any sports?”

“Nah. I was in a band for a while.”

“What?? And none of those memories were considered significant to you?”

“Nope.” Simon smiled teasingly. “I would prefer to forget highschool happened honestly. And this. Like to focus on my time in the military.”

“Your time with me, ya mean?” Soap meant it as a joke, relieved that everything was going fuzzy and they would move to when Ghost woke up and the door.

“Maybe that’s part of it.” Simon admitted softly.

Soap yanked him hard and shoved him through that dumb door before he could even glance at the memory. They tumbled through the inky blackness and Soap felt him be ripped from it as he spiraled. Darkness was all consuming. All powerful.

And then he was back in bed. He shot up and the doctors quickly grabbed him.

“You’re good, sir.”

“Ghost?”

“Stabilized and probably waking up right now. Any di-” Soap got up and cut him off.

“Bye then.”

“Sir, we need to examine you t-”

“Nope. I’m good. I’m fine.” Soap walked right past him, going to Ghost instead.

Ghost was indeed awake and very angry. “If one more of you motherfuckers jabs me with a goddamn needle.”

“It’s an IV.”

“Get fucked.” Ghost hissed.

Soap relaxed. “LT.”

“Johnny.” Ghost turned towards him and the nurse stuck him.

Soap laughed. “Relax. They’re just making sure you’re okay.” He would never admit that he skipped out on his own examination.

Ghost huffed, back to his normal self. Mask on, everything tucked away. He reluctantly let them finish.

Soap grabbed one of the cookies he was offered, knowing that Ghost would not eat it while here since that would require lifting the mask.

Ghost glanced at him briefly before looking away. Soap moved a bit closer.

“You remember what I promised, right?”

Ghost stiffened. Soap wondered if he was blushing under there.

“A drink.”

“And a kiss remember?”

Ghost hummed. “I’ll be holding you to it.”

#Johnny Soap Mactavish #Simon Ghost Riley #Soap Cod #Ghost COD #Soapghost #Ghostsoap #Soap x Ghost #Ghost x Soap #Macriley #Call of Duty #Call Of Duty Modern Warfare 2

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