#and i have to live with this somehow and i know it will feel better but for now im just fumbling through it and hurting and suffering and it
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TOO SWEET
A/N: i know originally i teased something else with the hozier song, but this came to me when i saw the pics below and i just had to write them. also, i put the bruises on him so go easy on my photoshop skills lol
WORD COUNT: 1.5k
WARNING: mention of blood and bruises
SUMMARY: You and Harry are worlds apart, yet you can't let go of each other, not even when he stumbles into your home in the middle of the night, bruised and in pain.
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You wake to the sound of the front door closing and by the time his footsteps reach the bathroom down the hall you’re fully conscious. There was a time when you considered yourself a heavy sleeper, when the smallest noises could not bother you enough to wake from your dreams, but those days have been gone ever since Harry came into your life.
You kind of knew what you were getting yourself into, his reputation and horrific stories about his dark deals were more than well-known around town and there was a time you never thought you’d get involved with him. You’re worlds apart, he is the fire that will burn you if you get too close, but it appears you’re the water that could take his danger out. Just one party, one glance across the room was enough to bound you two together and turn your life upside down.
Surprisingly, you weren’t the only one fighting against the pull. In the beginning, Harry tried to keep him away from you just as much as you attempted to convince yourself he is nothing but trouble. You still remember what he told you one night when you met him at a dodgy bar against your better judgment.
“I take my whiskey neat, my coffee black and my bed at three. You’re way too sweet for me, baby.”
It felt like he wasn’t even talking to you but to himself. His light green eyes were darker than ever as he stared down at your lips and you couldn’t figure out what you wanted more, to kiss him or to leave him. Even though what he said sounded a lot like a promise that he’ll step back, somehow you just ended up even closer.
Life with Harry is like a rollercoaster that takes you through Hell and Heaven at the same time. When it’s good, it’s a high you’ve never experienced before, he is everything you want and could ever need, he fills your heart and eases your mind like no one can and you know he is the piece you’ve been searching for all your life.
But when it’s low… the darkness feels like a weight you can barely carry and it’s hard to remember what it was like when you were blossoming.
You never asked Harry to stop his underworld deals, you know it’s practically impossible, but it’s also hard to live like this. Fearing every call you get, fighting intrusive thoughts about what might have happened to him every time he doesn’t answer your messages and then there are the nights like this, when he visits you in the middle of the night but it’s always for the wrong reason.
The first time Harry appeared at your door at two am, blood running down his face, barely holding himself up, you got so worried he had to calm you even though he was the one with the injuries, but you just couldn’t stop crying and sobbing.
Now you still get yourself worked up but you learned to keep your face straight as you clean his wounds or even stitch them, but it’s still just as much of a struggle emotionally to see the man you love like this all the time.
You sit up in your bed as you hear him grunt before closing the bathroom door as quietly as he can and then the water starts running. Reaching for your phone on the nightstand you check the time, it’s just a little past three in the morning, the dim light of the streetlamps are the only source of light in your tiny bedroom, but even despite the darkness, it still feels bright and homey, you spent a lot of time to create this bubble for yourself and though Harry’s gruff and edgy presence feels the farthest from your colorful life, he still somehow belongs here, in your life.
Rubbing your eyes you stand up and look for the cardigan you know you left on the chair in the corner. When you find it you wrap yourself into it tight and take a moment to mentally prepare yourself for whatever you’ll see. From what you heard, he wasn’t limping so that’s a good start, but you still know there’s a whole lot that could be terrifyingly wrong with him to make him come to you instead of his place.
The water has stopped running by the time you make your way out of the bedroom and over to the bathroom. Light is flowing out underneath the door and you don’t know before simply twisting the knob and opening the door, revealing Harry sitting in the bathtub, bent forward, his curls wet and brushed back, bruises covering his shoulders, back and jawline, his bottom lip busted open.
Repentance fills his glimmering eyes when he looks at you and you know what he would say if his pride allowed him to speak.
“I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry. I want to be better for you, but it’s so hard.”
Walking over you kneel down next to the tub and cup his face with your palm, gentle and soft, not to hurt him and he melts into your touch in an instant.
“I’m alright,” he rasps as you run your hand down his naked chest, over some of the bruises and you notice how he winces when your cold hand touches a vigorously dark mark on his collarbone.
You’d do anything to free him from this dark world that keeps him as its prisoner, but ironically you know what kind of consequences one would have to endure to be set free and you fear those would take him from you forever. So every time you see the marks of this evil life on him, a piece of you dies. For him.
“I’ll get you some pills,” you whisper and try to get up, but his hand grabs your arm, holding you back.
“Just… stay with me, please.” It’s a desperate plea you could never ignore, so you settle back onto the fuzzy rug next to the tub, one arm against his chest as he hugs it like a child, your thumb gently rubbing the side of his neck. But you don’t stay like that much longer. The urge to get closer to him grows unbearable, so you move to stand again and when you see the panic in his eyes you’re quick to calm him.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Hesitantly, but he lets go of your arm and watches you as you undress yourself and join him in the tub, sitting behind him so you can hug him from behind, your chest melting against his back as your heartbeats sync.
His head falls back onto your shoulder while your lips pepper kisses onto his every once in a while, your hands gently running up and down his front, eager to feel the softness of his skin.
“You’re way too sweet for me,” he breathes out.
“Haven’t we been over this?” you ask with a soft smile. He lifts his head and then turns it so he can look at you.
“I feel like I’m ruining you.”
“Don’t act like it’s all on you. I made a decision too and I chose to be with you.”
“You made a mistake,” he whispers and you see something dark, something desperate take over his face for a moment, but you’re quick to bring him back to you, like you always do.
Soothing his hair back, you pull him closer so your lips meet for the softest kiss.
“You could never be a mistake,” you whisper against his lips and you feel him inhale sharply before he kisses you, harder and needier and you’re happy to give him whatever he demands from you.
You stay in the tub until the water gets too cold. Then you grab him a shirt and a pair of underwear he left at yours a while ago and you move to the bedroom. He finally lets you get him some painkillers and you tell him to get in bed when he tries to randomly fix the jammed drawer of your desk. He loves to play the handyman when he’s over, but now is definitely not the time for that.
“Okay, doctor, gotcha,” he chuckles cheekily as he shuffles over to the bed. He watches you with a smirk as you’re moving around, grabbing another blanket before joining him in bed.
“What?” you ask when he just keeps looking at you smugly.
“You take so good care of me, baby. You know, there is one more thing I think I need to feel better.”
Reaching over he hooks a finger into the front of your shirt, tugging it down teasingly.
“Oh, really?” you arch an eyebrow at him.
“Absolutely.”
Instead of a reply, you move closer and press two fingers into a bruise on his shoulder just enough to make him wince and flinch back from the pain.
“I think you need to stay away from physical activities, that’s the doctor’s order,” you scoff.
“Fuck, there was nothing sweet about that, damn!” he grunts, making you laugh.
“But you love it when I put you into your place, don’t you?” Grinning you scoot closer, his arm curling around you instantly.
“I do. Only you can do that,” he smiles down at you.
Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!
#harry#styles#harry styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fanfic#harry styles oneshot#harry styles one shot#harry styles fluff#harry styles x you#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x reader#harry styles blurb
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Talking to a Brick Wall - A.H
a/n: rip erin strauss you would've hated this fic
masterlist
‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧
pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!reader
summary: in which you overhear your boyfriend aaron's phone call
warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, miscommunication, self-doubt, happy ending but also a terrible ending bc i SUCK at endings xoxo
wc: 2.3k
You had called out your boyfriend's name multiple times as you wandered into his house. He had asked you a while ago if you wanted to come over for a movie night tonight and hell would have to freeze over before you ever declined that offer. However, upon arrival, you were greeted by silence; no response to the doorbell, his phone, or your voice. Thankfully, the key he'd given you last year jingled in your pocket as you let yourself in.
You had a pretty strong suspicion he'd be in his office--after all, this was Aaron Hotchner, a man who definitely did not believe in leaving work at the office.
And sure enough, his voice filtered through the slightly ajar door, the rich hue of his mahogany desk framing the gap. You were about to move towards the living room, assuming he was on a work call of some sorts, but his words stopped you dead in your tracks.
"It's just... sometimes I feel like I'm speaking, but the understanding isn't there. You know what I mean? It's like the concepts just float in one ear and out the other."
You caught your bottom lip between your teeth, brows drawn together, as your hand found the wall, leaning towards the door. He couldn't have been talking about you, right?
"I try to share details, to get her involved, but it's met with this vacant nod. As if the depth of it all just doesn't register."
Oh. Her. You tried to fan away the wetness that threatened to fall down your cheeks, each rapid motion a desperate attempt to convince yourself you were imagining things.
"And I'm patient, I really am. But when you're met with that blank look, it's... disheartening. You start to wonder if it's worth explaining at all. It's like talking to a wall."
Okay, that stung. It was like an immediate punch to the gut, your heart seeming to drop into the pit of your stomach. Your shoulders slumped slightly as you tried to rationalize his words, but nothing was really making sense right now.
The internal battle was a cruel one: stay and endure the sharp sting of his words or leave and miss more of what he had to say. The latter won, pulling you away from the door.
You knew you were never going to be the smartest person in the room, and in the past, it was a source of deep-seated insecurity, always a silent specter in the corners of your mind. But then you met Aaron. And he made everything just better. His own intelligence and impressive job never became a yardstick for your worth; he ensured you knew you were more than enough, just as you were.
He had always been the voice reminding you that you were smart in your own right, telling you that your worth transcended any numerical measure of intelligence like a stupid IQ score. But now you were questioning everything.
Anger seemed like the appropriate response, right? But it was hard to be when his words carried a weight of truth to them.
You did have a hard time keeping up when he talked about the complexities of his cases, sometimes feeling like an outsider looking in. But, even if you didn't understand, his passion for what he did was infectious, and you hung on to every word when he explained all the ways his smart brain was able to deduce things about people.
Still, a part of you imagined it was hard for him, that it probably got old fast when you weren't able to hold an intelligent conversation.
Your knuckles were white against the steering wheel, and it somehow took you only ten minutes to get home when it should've taken you twenty.
It was only when you had taken a shower, put on your favorite pair of pink sweats, brought out some Ben and Jerry's, and turned on Legally Blonde, did you check your phone.
Hi honey. What time are you coming over?
You tried to ignore the sensation of an invisible band drawing tighter across your chest.
so sorry, not feeling good. rain check? xoxo
You hated lying to him. Hated lying in general, save for the occasional white lie to protect someone's feelings. The fact that you weren't lying to his face was a small mercy, because obviously he'd be able to see right through you.
Do you want me to come there? I can bring food.
You wanted to be with him, you really did, you had been counting down the days to this movie night all week. But the thought of sitting beside him, wanting to ask about his day, about his work, now seemed like an intrusion. Knowing that your well-intentioned questions might be a chore for him or a source of frustration. The realization pressed down on you, a heavy weight that threatened to snuff your light.
no that's okie! thank you though <3 i don't want to get you sick!
Your phone was ringing, his name lighting up the screen for a FaceTime call, it felt like a betrayal of your own making. It was a skill you had recently taught him (which took forever), and of course now he was using it. Your finger jabbed at the red button, your cheeks turning the same color.
i look & sound disgustinggg rn
I know for a fact that's incorrect. You have a magical talent of looking incredible no matter what.
I want to see your pretty face.
you can be so flattering when u want to mister!
im going to take some medicine & then ill call u l8, k?
Hmm, okay.
love u! xoxo
I love you too, pretty girl.
You hated this. Your eyes were puffy, swollen and wet as you discarded the phone onto the nightstand. He deserved someone who wasn't so pathetic.
You wallowed in self-pity all night, and then all day, and then all week. You went through the motions--getting up, going to work, and then making up some lame excuse when Aaron asked to see you. Name it, and you had probably said it. In reality, you had been holed up in your room, trading glossy magazine pages for confusing behavioral books.
The subject matter was as dull as dishwater, making paint-watching seem thrilling. But you were committed to bringing some depth to your next conversation with him.
Today's excuse had been some half-truths about being buried in work--which in hindsight seemed comical, given you worked at a bakery and there wasn't much that could take up your time outside of contract hours.
You were splayed across the couch in an upside-down sprawl as you attempted to focus on the scholarly gibberish that filled the pages. 'Homology,' 'dichotomy,' and 'typology' melded into a migraine-inducing blur, tempting you to slam the book shut. You were fighting every urge to throw it out the window and paint your nails with that new glittery polish you've been dying to try.
At the insistent knock, you clapped the book shut (thank god) and stood, brows knitting, as you navigated to the door with a soft scuffle of slippers on polished wood.
Flinging it open, you halted, breath caught. "Aaron? Oh, hi, what are you doing here?"
The words sprang forth before you could catch them, your hands scrambling up to smooth the evidence of your couch-induced disarray.
He fixes you a pointed stare as he steps into your apartment, invitation be damned you guess. "I find myself repeating this, yet it seems necessary--peephole first, then the door, sweetheart."
You clamp your teeth onto your lip with such force, you're convinced you've tasted blood. "Oh, right, sorry... I should've remembered."
A flicker of foolishness and a heavy dose of self-consciousness threaten to surface. However, you quickly subdue them, tucking them away as you wrapped your arms around your body, offering him a small smile. Despite everything, your heart leaps at the sight of him. You missed him.
His face softens, his touch soft as he tilts your chin upward. "Look at me. It's fine. I just want to make sure my best girl is safe, that's all."
The temptation to simply crumble there and then, to forget everything and cocoon yourself in his arms, was overwhelming.
You leaned into his hand without thinking, which now claimed the entire area of your cheek. He was always so warm.
You watch as Aaron glances around the room, no doubt noting the absence of work-related clutter. "Still working?"
"Oh, I was, I told my boss I'd help with inventory reports." That part wasn't totally a lie, but it still made your conscience squirm with guilt.
"Do you want help?"
The proposal touches a raw nerve, sparking a defensive reflex. Did he think you were incapable?
"Thanks, but I'm actually all done with them," you lie, your a smile a little too rigid as you head into the living room.
You're keenly aware of his approaching footsteps as you hastily stash that stupid book under a magazine, silently praying he didn't notice. You settle onto the couch, and he joins you, casually drawing your legs over his lap as you recline against the cushions.
"How was your day?"
You wince internally at the automatic question.
"Not too bad," He replies with an easy shrug, his fingers sneaking under your sweats at the ankles, tracing lazy circles on your calves. "We wrapped up some paperwork, had a couple of briefings, and oh, we were introduced to our new consultant today. She specializes in crypto linguistics--really fascinating stuff."
Your eyes flutter briefly, a constriction forming in your throat, a twist in your gut. The mere mention of the consultant being a she amplifies your feelings of insufficiency. It leaves you wondering, why would Aaron ever be interested in someone like you?
"Crypto linguistics?" you repeat, trying to sound curious rather than lost.
He leans in closer to you. "It's a specialized area of linguistics focused on decoding encrypted languages."
You offer a nod, managing a convincing "Yeah, of course," even as your eyes unwittingly drift away from his unwavering stare, betraying a hint of your confusion.
Aaron's hand cradles your head, his fingers sifting through your hair. "Hey," he murmurs, drawing your attention back, "what's going on in that pretty head of yours?"
Your chin touches your chest as you mumble, barely audible, "hardly anything."
Aaron's expression turns to a frown, his broad hands guiding your ass and thighs as he positions you atop his lap, face-to-face, leaving you exposed with no place to hide. Your name escapes him with a sigh. "I don't believe that for a second."
You match his frown with your own pout, nestling your face into his neck, concealing the rosy hue that has claimed your cheeks. "Just a rough week is all."
"Is that so?" His voice was a gentle murmur, his hands soothingly moving in gentle sweeps across your back as you breathed out unsteadily. "Funny, that's been my week too. My gorgeous girlfriend seems to have been avoiding me all week."
"Have not," you mumble, your breath warm against his skin, fingers weaving through the hair at the nape of his neck.
He hummed. "Why don't you tell me what's wrong."
"It's silly."
He guided your face back to his, eyes searching yours. "Listen to me. No, it's not. I don't like when you try to diminish your feelings. Talk to me, honey."
That was your tipping point. A wobble in your lip betrays the onset of tears as your voice breaks.
"I just--I know I'm not as smart as the people you work with or even your past girlfriends. I know I don't get things right away especially when you talk about work, and I see how everyone else is so quick, and I'm here, always a few steps behind. I know that it must be frustrating for you, and I'm scared that one day, you'll get tired of explaining, and your patience will run out, and well, you'll see... you'll see that--"
"Baby, whoa, slow down," Aaron urges, his palms tenderly framing your face, a frown plastered over his face. Your heart hammers against your chest, its rapid beats almost audible, as if it might jump from your body. "Take a deep breath, okay? Can you do that for me?"
You draw in a breath.
His thumb delicately erases the tears that have made their way down your cheek.
"When there is something about my work you don't understand, I will gladly go over it as many times as you need. I don't expect you to know everything about that stuff, why would you? That's not why I'm with you. I'm with you because of your incredibly kind heart and the way you see the best in people. I love you because you are you. What is making you think this way, honey? It's breaking my heart."
"I overheard you Aaron," you said, "saying that sometimes it feels like you're talking to a wall when you talk to me."
"What?" he questioned, but his confusion was quickly morphed into concern. "Oh, sweetheart, no. I was talking about Strauss and her lack of understanding of our fieldwork."
"Oh."
"I would never speak about you like that, you know that, right? And if, in some alternate universe, I did, you need to break up with me, or better yet, set me straight." His hands stayed firmly on your face. "You should never tolerate that from me or anyone else, understood?"
You bit down on your lip, hands resting on his shoulders as you nodded. "Yes, sir."
He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, sending fireworks to every inch of you as he mumbled against your mouth, "that's my girl."
taglist: @hotchhner
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x fem!reader#aaron hotchner x fem reader#aaron hotchner x bimbo!reader#aaron hotchner x bimbo reader#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#aaron hotchner angst#aaron hotchner hurt/comfort#Spotify
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not easy to please ⋆⭒˚｡⋆
alternatives to popular tropes
⇴ siblings's worst enemy
they're your sibling's enemy, so of course they're yours too. they're despicable and you seriously want them dead. luckily for you, the feeling's mutual.
⇴ struggling ceo and their know-it-all office worker
how did this mf become the ceo of one of the most progressive countries in the world?? they're clueless and you're the one that has to fix all their mistakes. you seriously don't get paid enough for this (unless they can come up with another way to pay you).
⇴ marriage of inconvenience
what happens in vegas stays in vegas. except when you've signed an official marriage contract, and everything is so much more complicated before. now this person is stuck with you until you can divorce! (or will you?)
⇴ forbidden hate
your parents absolutely adore the idea of the two of you together. they have wedding pinterest boards, future plans, and baby names for the two of you. only one thing: you two kinda hate each other, and hell would have to freeze over before you'd ever get with them.
⇴ no more second chances
sorry dude! f'ed up really bad the first time, and now you're not giving anymore chances, and your ex has to deal with the consequences. one problem: they can't deal with the consequences bc they're literally in love with you. hm. just what will this person do to get you back?
⇴ not so secret identity
everyone knows who they are. not even the old mask and hat trick could prevent people from identifying them. and it's fine–they absolutely bask in the fame. one problem though: they're a constant target to the entire world. perfect!
⇴ separated from each other
they never get any alone time. alone together in an elevator? too bad, a party of ten just showed up, pushing the two of you on the opposite side of the elevator. finally alone at home? nope! unfortunately, your friends make a surprise visit! oh how will you two ever get past this?
⇴ "you deserved it."
a normal person would've asked "who did this to you?" except your bond is not normal. not in the slightest. i mean seriously, what does this person want from you?
⇴ "i can't have you, so i'll let someone else take my place."
they know that they're not good enough for you, and that you deserve someone better than them. so, they choose to let you go, and hope that someone else can make your world light up like they used to
⇴ the one that is still here
everywhere you go, this person is there. whether it's physically, mentally, or spiritually, everything ties back to them. everything reminds you of them. you couldn't even escape if you tried.
⇴ playboy but he's actually a nerd that cannot get play
he's gorgeous–he's the most attractive man you think you've ever seen in your life. you think he's probably got it all–girls or boys coming up to him nonstop. only, that's not true in the slightest. somehow, he's managed to fumble every single time.
⇴ nobody wants the bad boy
he's troubled. there are rumors of him starting fights 24/7, and he lives in a bad area. he could really fuck someone up. nobody wants him.
⇴ "you must be delusional"
lovers that know that they're in love with each other, but when admitting it to their friends, they shut down their feelings.
⇴ loving someone to save them
none of that breaking up nonsense. love is power. their love and support causes you to be stronger than ever. knowing that there's love out there gives you a reason to keep on going. love saves you.
⇴ too smart to live
you've outdone yourself this time. bypassed every guard, rule, and law without anyone catching you. so, of course, there's only one solution here: to eliminate you.
⇴ different worlds (revised)
you grew up poor while they grew up rich. now, in the present, you are the more successful one, while they are struggling to get their life together. now, you must help the one who used to be in your current position, and fix things together.
⇴ one-sided blind date
rule one of having a blind date: you should not know who you're meeting. well, too late! you sneaked a peek at your friend's phone and found out who you'll be seeing soon. now, you're scrambling to get out of this date because you know exactly who it is.
#keyotosprompts#fluff prompts ⋆˚✿˖°#writeblr#writing#writing prompts#otp prompts#otp writing#imagine your otp#creative writing#writing inspiration#writers on tumblr#writing prompt#writerscommunity#creative inspiration#writer stuff#tropes#character dynamics#about writing
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Okay so im curious. As someone who has dyed their own hair many a time and knows intimately how hard it is to get bright colors in dark hair, does danny bleach his hair before he puts the red in? This was the au where no one will accept that he died and that his core is part of him now, so does he use his phantom form? If he doesn't, does his hair just eventually stop growing back black? If he does use phantom, does the dye job effect what color his hair is in it?
Im so fucking interested in the mechanics of how he got it to be so red.
Also: how old is he in this?
So there's deff a little ghost going on and some comic/cartoon magic lol, but he does bleach it!
Danny stared at his hair in the mirror of the school locker room he had snuck into. He hadn’t even gotten inside in a ghostly way, he had just walked in as school was letting out and hid until everyone left. Now the school was quiet and dark in way that was frankly a little terrifying.
He was hoping his powers would help him get back out when he needed them to. They weren’t exactly… reliable yet.
They also wouldn’t help him fix his hair. Bleaching it had been… well, a success, Danny guessed. No one would recognize him now. No one would even want to look at him for long. His once black hair was now a sickly sort of greenish blond. The spot of white somehow made the rest of it look even worse by comparison. Danny really couldn’t just let it stay like this. People would ask even more questions if he went around looking like a half done dye job.
Which also answers, yes, he does use his powers! The more he does the better he feel and the less the ghostliness spreads into his living form. I'm not sure by the time he gets to Gotham how much of his hair is still black. It might only be the bottom part which is why he shaves it closer.
I am very tempted to have it effect his ghost coloring to, play into much of the ghost form being mental.
Age wise? er... 14-17. I'm not sure yet! I think maybe 15 but masked up and with practice he comes across more at 16 or a baby faced 17.
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The truth is waiting there
Find the series masterlist
You have a moment of uncertainty. Simon helps.
Established relationship Simon Riley x f!reader
Warnings: Swearing, implied sexual activity, these two are too cute, seriously I think these two are the most lovey dovey couple I've ever written.
Word count: 418
There was something about living in a liminal space, something haunting and fleeting and poignant.
You stared at the now-empty bookcase, hands resting on the last box filled with books. You knew where you were going… sort of. Simon said he knew the perfect place, he was just waiting for it to go up for sale. Another month, maybe two.
In the meantime, packing things away would make your lives easier down the road.
It just… it felt weird. A little scary.
The empty bookcase seemed to taunt you, somehow. Empty but for accumulated dust.
Was your life truly so easy to simply pack away?
“Sweetheart?”
You jumped when Simon stepped up behind you, one hand on your hip helping to steady you. “Sorry,” you gasped, one hand pressed to your chest as if to calm your racing heart. “I didn't hear you.”
“Looked a thousand miles away,” he murmured, pressing up against your back, his arm looping around your waist. “You alright?”
“I'm okay,” you murmured, leaning back into him, knowing he'd hold you steady. Your gaze strayed back to the empty bookcase, fingers curling around the box once again. “Just…”
“Just…?” He pressed gently, tucking his nose behind your ear, his breath warming your skin.
“It's… weird. I guess. Throwing me off, I think.” You breathed in slowly, grounding yourself in the familiar feel of your husband.
“Having second thoughts?” The question came slowly and for too even. Measured.
“No!” You turned, and it was only Simon's quick reflexes that kept you from getting hit by the box of books. “Never.”
Simon resettled one hand on your hip, looking down at you. You held eye contact, willing him to see you meant what you'd said. His lips quirked in a little smile. “Will it make you feel better if I promise we won't have to move again?”
You smiled sheepishly, winding your arms around his neck. “Maybe.”
He chuckled, the hand at your hip tugging you closer, as if there was any space between you to begin with. “It'll go fast,” he murmured, thumb slipping under your clothes to get at your skin. “Besides, once we're moved in, we'll have all new rooms to break in.”
You warmed at the thought and couldn't help but laugh. “You're terrible,” you chided, grinning.
“Made you laugh,” he pointed out with no small amount of smugness.
You kissed him. Only incidentally to shut him up.
He was right, though. You'd have to make the new house very thoroughly yours.
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I know you probably won't continue this since it's been almost two years but recently I saw your Submas comic again with Emmet somehow ending up in Hisui with the help of Celebi and reuniting with his brother but also getting the consequences of his actions/neglect in taking care of himself (also probably Hisui being harsh to his already weakened state)
I imagined how it could continue (not written down anywhere just living rent free in the brain of yours truly) and I feel like sharing it with you since you inspired me:
We left off as Ingo weeps in front of Emmet sleeping... After he wakes up from his weeping Ingo and Sneasler reluctantly leave as Emmet has no signs of regaining consciousness or improving. Something tells Ingo that what his brother needs might be back in their original time with much better health care.
Similar to him Ingo seeks out Dialga and Palkia begging them to help him save his brother. They have just reunited and he doesn't dare to think what happens if Emmet doesn't get the treatment he needs.
Celebi is also still around and Ingo makes the decision to return to the future to help save Emmet. Sacrificing everything just like he did.
[off screen he makes his good byes get's one of Sneaslers Eggs as a parting gift and they return back to the future]
Next time we cut to the twins it's in the hospital when Emmet regains consciousness. Half awake he is distraught first because being in hospital means it was all a dream and he is all alone again. Waterworks start until he notices a presence by his bedside. Ingo. Totally exhausted and seemingly recently fallen asleep. Waterworks start even harder because Ingo is right there. It was real after all. Ingo awakes and wakes up and they hug and weep.
the end
----
I know you're not fond of fanworks of your fanworks so I don't know if you even like this stupid little idea (also if you even remember the fanart and all that from way back when) I don't plan on sharing this anywhere outside to you. Take it if you want or leave and delete it. I just felt like sharing it with you since you inspired me.
I just want to say thank you because even after all this time your few works of art for submas fill me with joy and I smile each time I scroll past them on my dashboard. All your artworks are simply amazing and I know that you definitely make so many people happy with your content. Keep doing what you love because you do awesome! Take care and thank you for reading this far into this long message.
Awwee!! This is so sad yet adorable at the same time!! 😭😭😭 What a sweet way to wrap up Ingo and Emmets journey! :}}
And thank you so much! I'm so glad to hear that you liked my submas stuff and that it's inspired you! Even though I didn't draw much for it.. 😅 Perhaps someday when I'm feeling better I'll get back around to submas again.. 👀👀
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PERMANENT DAMAGE
content. 18+ blog mdni, slightly toxic relationship, smoking, random bonus scene at the end, sexual content, workaholic reader, toxic geto, pussy eating, stress relief, rough sex, daddy kink, etc.
a/n. this is not me trying to romanticize toxic relationships, if you do not like this content then scrolllll :3
you work from home most days in your apartment in NYC. you have a mostly bland, average life for a woman in her twenties who lives in such a populated city. but recently, or in the past three months, you've been hooking up with your best friends brother, geto. the only 'few' issues is that he has a girlfriend, he's a bit toxic, and you can't get enough of him.
you sit in your work chair, that chic, spinny chair that your new 'friends' said you NEEDED to have. all your friends are these new influencers while you're stuck in your tiny apartment, working an at-home office job. you feel behind. but luckily, you have a relationship! or something... you type away on your laptop, importing spreadsheets for your boss. but suddenly, your phone makes a ping! sound and you break your gaze from the laptop.
Geto: Open up.
before you can even reply to his message, there's a banging at your door that's almost violent. it startles you out of your chair and you rush to the door. standing on your tiptoes, you reach for the top lock and unlock the door before twisting the knob and opening it to reveal your beloved, geto.
"what the fuck are you doing here?" you hiss. he's standing there with his face looking more beautiful than ever, like he just got out of bed but in the most sexy, sultry way ever; hair slightly messy in that half-up-half-down hairstyle, eyes half lidded as he looks down at you with an amused expression.
"'hey there, sexy' to you too." those are the only words you get before he nonchalantly uncrosses his arms and walks inside past you. you're left there for a moment, dumbfounded, as he steps in your apartment with zero explanation of why he's there. you break out of your dumbfounded haze and close the door, turning around to face him, looking furious.
"i know it's sudden, but i needed to see you, princess," he says, his voice soft and sultry. he steps forward, arms extended out before you swat them away. "geto you can't keep showing up so... unexpectedly! i could've been with someone!" you explain with frustration. he arches a brow and smirks.
"with someone? like who? those girls you call your 'friends'?" he asks with a mocking tone. your brow furrows with annoyance. "puh-lease, geto! just go away! you always try to do this shit!" he steps back and sits on your sofa, arms outstretched on the back with his legs crossed lazily. he leans forward, elbows on his knees. "c'mere."
he smiles as you hesitantly step towards him. "oh c'mon don't be so shy, it's just me," he says. "why don't you let me help you relax? i can tell you've been working all day, sweetheart." his hand reaches up and brushes a stray piece of hair out of your face, his expression soft with awe. he gently tugs on your wrist, pulling you down to sit on his lap.
you sit as he guided and somehow his mouth is moving slowly yet urgently against yours as his hands tangle in your hair. your pussy aches to be taken care of. you slowly drag your hips back and forth against his clad crotch, creating an undeniably good friction that sends shockwaves to both of your cores.
he groans into your mouth, turning you on even more as his tongue dances with yours. he pulls away for a moment as you kiss, looking at your flushed face and slightly disheveled hair before his mouth latches onto yours again. one of his hands begins guiding your hips against his, now you're moaning into his hollow mouth, only being filled by your tongue.
he pulls away again, pulling you back gently by your hair. "let me make you feel better." then you're on your back on the couch, he's spreading your legs and kneeling down. he pulls down your shorts and panties and his eyes stare with lust at your sopping cunt. he smirks and presses kisses from your inner knee down to your cunt, exactly where you want his mouth.
his tongue massages your clit softly, making you mewl. he's so talented with his tongue, it's like he's playing a gentle tune with it. he purses his lips and sucks on your sensitive bundle of your nerves. his tongue then suddenly slips into your slick hole, tongue-fucking you and thrusting it back in forth, his long tongue hitting your G-spot.
you writhe and grip the fabric of the couch, thighs shaking with pleasure as he feasts upon your womanhood. and right before you can cum, he stops. he pats your thigh softly, making you open them back up shakily. his hands fiddle with his pant belt. finally getting it off, he tosses it to the floor and unzips his pants.
his thick, girthy length is presented to your eyes and your breath hitches. you've never been hornier for any other man. geto positions himself at that dripping cunt and pushes in slowly with a long groan. "fuuuck... so goddamn tight."
he thrusts back and forth, head thrown back with pleasure. sex with him has never been gentle, never been soft and sweet. and that wasn't about to change this time. he slowly increased his pace, his cockhead brushing against your G-spot with every stroke. he kept kissing your womb with his tip, it leaking precum inside you.
those gummy walls are what he swears suck him in and never let him go until he cums inside you.
he reaches forward and tugs on your hair roughly as he thrusts sharply into you, harder than before. "hnghh- getoouuu..!" you mewl, eyes glossy with lust and pain. your pretty little lashes are wet with salty tears from how good his thick cock feels while it fucks you relentlessly.
"goddamn, y/n... feels so fuckin' good in here. like heaven."
he suddenly pulls out, making you whine in response. he flips you over onto your hands and knees and spreads your folds with his fingers before ramming his cock into your cunt again. he leans over you, hands regripping your hair and yanking your head back so your eyes meet. his other hand comes down on your ass, slapping it harshly. he chuckles darkly when you wince at the impact.
"you wan' cum?" he says, his voice dripping with a wanton tone. you try to nod eagerly but it comes out tightly due to your head being restrained. "beg for it, like a good girl should." you're so embarrassed, unsure if he's joking. you do it anyway. "please, daddy. please let me cum..." you say shyly. he slaps your ass harshly again. "that's my good girl."
he thrusts one last time into you and suddenly your womb is filled with a thick, sticky substance. your back arches deeply and you feel a sense of euphoria. your body goes limp underneath him, both of you collapsing on the couch.
. . .
after getting dressed, you both head out to your balcony while you wear his shirt and he remains shirtless, only wearing his pants. you share a cigarette with him, sitting in silence as you watch the city lights flash and gleam in your eyes.
#jjk x reader#jjk#jjk smut#jjk x you#jjk geto#geto suguru#getou suguru x reader#geto smut#geto x reader#jujutsu geto#suguru
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complicated // sam golbach
A/N: had an idea like this for quite sometime, and i was finally able to finish this fic. just so everyone's aware, there WILL be a part two. but it might not be in the way you think lol hope you enjoy this fic and lmk what you think :)
prompt: you and sam needed a stress relief, and if you couldn't get it from who you really wanted it from, second best was better than nothing at all. || sam golbach x fem!reader
trigger warning: SMUT, drunk sex, cursing, snc are both single in this fic, angst, finding comfort in each other, friends to lovers, kitchen sex, almost getting caught, mentions of babygirl, good girl, sam is using you and you are using sam
word count: 4020
~~~~~~~~~~~
To say my relationship with Sam and Colby was complicated was a bit of an understatement. But I had no one to blame, really, except for myself.
I had known them for years, being one of the first friends they made once they moved out to LA. We were always friendly with each other, and kept in contact over the years. Then one day, they told me about how they needed an assistant, someone that could help out behind the scenes as well as being in videos occasionally. Things fell into place perfectly, and I signed on to be their assistant. I moved out to Vegas with them, living in an apartment not too far away from their place.
God only knew why I even had my own place since I crashed at their house more often than not.
Our relationship never seemed all that complicated.... until one day. Something clicked in my head, and suddenly I became extremely aware of how attractive Colby was. His eyes, his smile, his voice. Sam, of course, was attractive too. But he always had Kat, so it was never appropriate for me to like him. But Colby... he was basically an eternal bachelor. So, it made total sense for me to like him.
And our friendship was a bit strange to begin with. We were both naturally flirty people, constantly hitting on one another whether sober or drunk; but especially when we were drunk. There were some close encounters with us, especially once we started opening up to one another. I could count on two hands how many times we had kissed, and on one how many times we had almost gone farther than that. But we never finished what we started.
The problem with Colby is I could never tell where we stood entirely. Sometimes, it seemed like I was all he wanted to pay attention to. Other times, he was with someone else, and wouldn't even glance my way. It was strange. He was always close, but somehow an arm's length away.
And some nights, I couldn't stand him. The back and forth, the cat and mouse game... It was exhausting, to say the least. Sometimes I just wanted to know how he felt. Exactly. With no add ons or extra shit. But with Colby, it was never that simple.
This was normal for us. But things changed once Sam became single, and both of the boys were out on the prowl. It was like their auras changed, and suddenly I was seeing them through different eyes.
I had no one to blame except myself. But at the same time, I didn't feel guilty.
If he can have fun, so can I.
~~~~
“But did you see him? He was basically humping the air!” Colby laughed, kicking his shoes off.
I followed him and Sam into the kitchen area, our usual hang out spot. “Oh my God, yes! It was almost like your old Vine.”
He groaned, “Please don't bring that-”
“Baby grinnnnndd oooon meeeeeee!” I sang dramatically, completely offkey.
He deadpanned, “I hate you so much.”
I faux gasped, clutching my nonexistent pearls. “Wha? How could you say that? I'm one of your best friends!”
“And you're about to be unemployed if you keep it up.” Colby crossed his arms defiantly.
I narrowed my eyes. “You wouldn't.”
He smirked, “Try me.”
I turned away from him, yelling to my other best friend, “Sam! Tell Colby he can't just fire me because I'm making fun of him.”
Sam looked up from his phone, “Uh? I wasn't paying attention to what either of you were saying.”
“What are you doing?” I asked, dropping the topic.
He stared at me innocently, “...Trying to order Taco Bell.”
“Oh my God, Taco Bell.” Colby moaned, closing his eyes, “Oh, fuck.”
I grimaced, “Damn Colby, try not to come in your pants. It's just Taco Bell.”
“I'm sorry, I just get hard for Taco Bell.” Colby admitted casually.
Sam chimed in, “Dude, I get hard for Taco Bell too.”
I scrunched my face, “You guys are weird.”
Colby smiled playfully, walking away, “I'm gonna go change, order my regular?”
“Gotchu, brother.” Sam nodded.
I sighed, leaning against the island. I watched Sam scroll through his phone, clicking away at options for food.
“What do you want?” He asked.
I shrugged, “I don't know. Can I see your phone?”
“Come over here. I don't want to throw my phone.” He commented.
I huffed jokingly, walking over to him, taking it from his hand. "Well, someone's in a shitty mood."
“I'm not in a shitty mood. I'm tired, I'm drunk, and I'm very hungry. And I wish I ordered Taco Bell in the Uber home.” Sam replied, exacerbated.
“So... a shitty mood?” I repeated.
He grumbled, “Yeah, sure. Whatever.”
“Is something the matter?” I questioned, still looking at the Taco Bell menu.
He paused, then finally spoke. “It's been a year.”
I glanced up, “A year?”
“Since we... broke up.” He finally finished.
My eyes widened, putting his phone down on the counter. "Oh shit, I'm sorry Sam."
He exhaled, swatting at me, “It's okay.”
“No, we shouldn't have.... gone out tonight.” I half-heartedly argued.
“Why? So I could sulk at home over my failed relationship? I don't think that would have been any better.” He quipped.
“Do you wanna talk about it?” I placed my hand on his shoulder.
“I don't know.” He leaned back, rubbing his eyes tirelessly, “It just feels weird, you know? I never thought I would be single again, so all of this just feels... off.”
“Well, if it makes you feel any better, you're not the only one struggling in the love department.” I remarked.
“What? You and your secret pining for Colby not working out for you?” Sam sassed.
I glared, sucking my teeth, You know, sometimes you can be a real ass.”
“What? Because I can see you like Colby and he's just... blind, to it?” He smirked.
“Why don't you tell him that and not me?” I jeered.
“I'm not getting involved with whatever the two of you got going on. I swore off helping his dating life long ago.” He chuckled, putting his hands up defensively.
I scoffed, “You were literally his wingman tonight as he flirted with the waitress!
“And you wouldn't have noticed that if you weren't watching him like a hawk.” He mentioned.
I rolled my eyes, my hands resting on my hips. “Trust me, I wanted to look away. But it was like watching a train crash.”
Sam laughed, “A train crash that ended in him getting her number.”
I exhaled. “Again, the whole 'you're an ass' comment stands.”
“Why don't you just tell him how you feel?” He rebutted.
“He knows,” I winced, shrugging. “He... has to know. He just pretends it's not real. When there's no one else, that's when he comes to me.”
“And how does that make you feel?” He inquired.
“Like shit. I hate being a second choice.” I muttered.
He hummed, “I know the feeling.”
“Yeah, well at least you got to be first. I don't think that's ever gonna happen with me and him.” I sighed, ignoring my heart dropping at my own words.
Sam, always the optimist, replied, “Maybe that's better in the long run. Maybe you work better as friends.”
“Maybe.... But what about you?” I stared up at him.
“What about me?” He chuckled.
“You really do have a knack for just changing up the conversation so you don't gotta talk about yourself.” I pointed at him, pushing my finger into his chest.
“What do you wanna know?” He asked.
I questioned, looking into his eyes. “How are you feeling? Genuinely.”
“Genuinely... I'm…” He was hesitant, but spoke, “a bit lonely.”
“Have you tried to be with other girls since your break up?” I queried.
Sam nodded, “Yeah. But none of them seemed right. I've realized I don't like being alone.”
“Not many truly do.” I added.
“It just feels odd not having someone there, you know? You wake up for years with the same person over and over again, but once they're gone it's like... something's missing.” He exhaled, his head falling back.
“Well, someone is.” I murmured, leaning against him.
He groaned, rubbing his eyes, “I kinda feel like a teenager again, but in the worst way.”
I turned to him, puzzled. “Really?”
“I can't tell how I feel anymore. Or what I want.” He flipped his hands over, weighing the options, “Am I lonely or just alone? Do I miss her or just the comfort that having her brought?”
I jokingly mimicked him, “Am I finally into someone new or am I just horny?”
“Yeah…” He gave me a strange look, but laughed, “What a weird way to put it, but yeah.”
I pffted, “Oh, I'm sorry. You two just said you get hard for Taco Bell, but I can't say I get horny sometimes?”
“Well you are my employee.” He smiled sarcastically.
“And you're my employer. So it's even worse.” I glared, “I should report you to HR.”
“We don't have HR.” Sam deadpanned.
“HR will have to hear about this... once they exist.” I declared.
He rolled his eyes at me, “Are you really horny that often?”
I inhaled, “Bro, honestly.... it's really bad sometimes.”
“Really? Like how bad?” He pushed.
“The other night I almost called up an ex just to see if he would fuck me.” I admitted, uncomfortable by the memory.
He whistled, “Ooof, that's pretty bad.”
“What about you? How horny do you get?” I asked, almost confused why I was.
He thought for a second, then stated, “Mmm, maybe every couple days.”
I snickered, “Oh that's not too bad. Aren't guys notorious for being constant horn dogs?”
“I guess so, but you already know I'm not like most guys.” He winked.
I shook my head at him, “How unique of you.”
Sam stared at me, his gaze a mix of annoyance and... something else I couldn't place. His voice came out low, almost husky. "Are you horny now?"
Butterflies erupted in my stomach, and I did my best to play them off. "Maybe a little. What about you?"
He raised his eyebrows, noting my statement, "Maybe just a little."
I nodded softly, my eyes taking in his face. He was really handsome. He always was, even if most of my feelings were for Colby. His eyes were blue, but very different compared to Colby's. Icy and intense in nature. They stared into mine, his eyes flickering down my face to my lips. I mirrored him, looking at his.
They looked awfully nice....
I don't know how, but we must have gotten closer and closer to one another. And suddenly, his lips were on mine. His arm wrapped around my lower back, pulling me towards him. My hands rested on his shoulders, catching my balance. His kiss was soft, but fierce. Our tongues met in a matter of seconds, a gasp falling from my lips when his entered my mouth. He pressed his body into mine, our hips meeting and grazing each other sexually.
Holy shit, I was kissing Sam. And not only that, I was liking it.
Sam must have also came to this realization, that he too was kissing me, because he pulled back abruptly. Shock was written all over his face. “Woah…”
I breathed, leaning back against the island. “W-What was that?”
“I don't know. Wow, um…” He sputtered, taking a step back.
I cleared my throat, “Yeah that was... surprising.”
“You can say that.” Sam rubbed the back of his neck.
I exhaled, looking at him. "Guess we are really horny."
He agreed, letting out a light laugh.
We stood there in awkward silence, trying to get our bearings. My heart fluttered in my chest as I realized how turned on I had become just making out with him.
I really was in dire need to be fucked. And Sam... seemed willing enough. At least, for a moment there.
Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the loneliness. But something came over the both of us in that moment. We locked eyes, and it became apparent that things were changing. The awkward silence turned erotic, like one of us was waiting to make the next move. I wanted to, but what if I was wrong?
Fuck, I just... needed him.
Sam bit his lip, his eyes tracing my form. Once they landed back on my face, a look came over him. It was intense, his pupils blown wide. He looked eager, determined... hungry.
“Come here.” He mumbled lowly.
That's all I needed to hear.
I rushed up to him, our bodies slamming into one another. Our mouths met hastily, jumping right back into what we had been doing just minutes before. He wrapped his arms around me, his hands resting low on my hips. He spun us until my back hit the counter in the far corner of the kitchen. His hand slid down to my knee, raising it up so it rested around his hip.
He pulled away quickly, putting some space between us. Are you okay with this?”
I tried catching my breath, “W-wha?”
“Are you okay with this? Do you really want this?” Sam questioned, repeating himself.
“Yeah I do. Why would you ask?” I furrowed my brow.
He scoffed, “Come on, Y/N. We just spent ten minutes talking about how you wanted Colby.”
“Yeah, and you spent the better half of that talking about how you miss your ex.” I retorted. “Obviously, we aren't each other’s.... first choices. But that doesn't mean we can't have fun. Let's just enjoy this, and not make this a big deal.” I snaked my arms around him, pulling him back into me.
“Fine with me.”
He lowered his face to my neck, sucking and nibbling on the sensitive skin. I lulled my head back, allowing him as much access as he wanted. He pressed his hips into mine, sparks shooting up through my core into my entire body. I whimpered unexpectedly, Sam smiling into my neck at the sound.
I tugged lightly on his hair, pulling his head back. Our lips met again, my hand roaming his chest. I found the first button of his shirt, undoing it. I slowly followed suit with the others, my fingers tracing down his torso as I did.
He grabbed my wrists, stopping my motions. “Shouldn't we go back to my room and do this? Do you wanna get caught by Colby?”
“How about we stop bringing him up? I don't want to be thinking about him right now,” I smiled bitterly. “And anyway, you know as well as I do that man is probably knocked out asleep on his bed. So we'll be good til morning.”
“I don’t think I'm gonna make it that long. Maybe three rounds max.” He joked.
“Oh wow, three rounds?” I gazed up and down at his body, “I'll settle for one right now.”
“Same here.” He kissed me quickly, pulling back for a moment, "but just in case he's not totally asleep, let's not get fully naked."
“Lame. But fine, I guess.” I huffed.
“Trust me, I would love to see all of you, but not now. Not here.” He whispered sweetly.
I giggled, his face and lips pressing into my chest as he lowered my top more. His tongue dragged across my skin, and I felt like I was on fire.
Maybe all of that tequila was a good call, after all. Because God... the feeling between my legs was just growing hotter and wetter by the second. All I wanted was Sam.
Was there a part of me that also wanted Colby? Yes. But that part would have to shut it for now. Because he wasn't here. He didn't choose me. Sam did. And I was going to enjoy every second of it.
Our kisses became harsher, more passionate, as our hips grinded together harder. I could feel him against me, his bulge pressing right against my core. I grazed my hand down his torso, finally resting it on his belt. I undid with my one hand, trying my best.
He laughed, pulling back from me. “I'll get it.”
“Do you have a condom?” I breathed.
“Yeah, in my wallet.” He grabbed it out of his pocket, placing it on the counter.
As he undid his belt, I took the condom out, ripping the package with my teeth. I gazed down at his dick; it strained against his underwear, begging to be touched. I reached out, cupping him softly.
“O-oh, fuck, Y/N.” He choked out a moan, his eyes closing at the feeling.
“Does that feel good, Sammy?” I whispered, biting my lip.
He glared, a smirk on his lips, "You know I hate when you call me that."
I bit back a smile, “But I enjoy it so much.”
He hummed, “And I guess I'll enjoy this.”
Sam closed the space between us, his eyes never leaving mine. His hand slid underneath my skirt, palming my sex instantly. I gasped as my wet panties pressed into my aching clit. I shuddered against him, a dark chuckle leaving his lips.
“That's it, babygirl. You're so wet for me, aren't you?” His voice was raspy as he spoke.
“I told you I was horny.” I rubbed my palm harder into his cock as he did the same to my clit.
“Yeah, but only a little bit. If this is only you a little horny, I can't imagine what you're like completely turned on.” He pressed into me more, kissing up my neck.
My breath hitched, “Get inside me and you'll find out.”
“Ain't gotta tell me twice.” Sam lowered his pants and underwear down enough for his cock to spring free. He took the condom from my hand, rolling it down his shaft. I watched in anticipation, direly needing him inside of me.
I yanked my panties down, kicking them off my heels. Sam lined up with my entrance, our eyes meeting again.
His tip teased me, “You ready?”
I nodded, “Please Sam, just-”
He inched his way in, filling me slowly. We both moaned in unison, the sensation hitting us hard. I was so wet and slick, he was able to push all the way in easily. Once our hips met, his hand cupped my face.
I opened my eyes, and his searched mine. I should have felt weird in this moment. Here I was, in my employers' and best friends' kitchen being fucked by one of them while the other was just a room or two away. We could get caught, we could be seen or heard at any moment. I shouldn't have wanted this. Sam was my friend, and not the one I really wanted in my heart.
But my feelings be damned if I wasn't gonna enjoy every second of this. Plus, it's not like I was the only one getting something out of this. I was his second choice, and he was mine.
Sam started bucking his hips, building up to a good rhythm. My hands slid up his back, resting on his shoulder blades. He leaned his forehead against mine, his eyes closed. He was concentrating on his movements, of going deeper into me. His one hand rested on my ass, cupping and gripping it as he thrusted. The other was in my hair, burying deeper into my locks.
“You feel so good, Y/N. So fucking wet.” He uttered, his voice shaking.
“I need more, Sam. Pleaseeee.” I whined.
“I gotchu, babygirl.” He lowered his hips, hitting my sex deeper, “Just like this?”
“Oh my- Fuck! Yes, just like that!” I cursed loudly.
He hushed me, snickering, “Shh, you can't be too loud. You might wake him. Unless that's what you want…”
“What?” I raised an eyebrow, pulling back slightly.
He slowed his movements down, tracing my jaw with his thumb.“You wanna get caught, don't you?”
I hated that the idea did excite me. The thoughts swirled in my head; would Colby be upset? Would Sam? The what ifs made my mind wonder.
Sam grabbed my face suddenly, a little rougher than I expected him to be. “Look at me.”
I blinked, staring into his eyes.
“Don't look away from me, okay? I want all of your attention on me and what I'm doing to you. Got it?” He commanded.
His tone was sexy, my body jolting from the sound. “Okay.”
He pecked my lips, “Good girl.”
I gasped as his hand slid down to my clit, rubbing it in time with his thrusts. My body clenched at the sensation, my hips speeding up.
“You need more?” Sam growled.
I hummed, only able to nod. My nails dug into his back as he sped up his movements. He began fucking me harder against the counter. He held me steady, going deeper as he did.
I shuttered, “Fuuuck Sam. You make me feel so full.”
“Yeah? Feel fucking amazing, Y/N.” Sam grunted, “God, if you squeeze around me one more time, I'm gonna-
I smirked against his neck, squeezing his cock inside of me. He halted his hips, raising his head to look at me.
He pushed his dick all the way in, filling me completely. His fingers started rubbing my clit faster and faster. My mouth fell open, my body shaking with pleasure..
Sam glared into my eyes, watching me as I almost came undone. I gripped him hard, panting. I could feel myself getting closer and closer to the edge, and all he was doing was using his fingers.
“You right there for me?” He hissed.
I whimpered, pleading, “Please let me come.”
“Stay right there for me. Don't come yet.” He demanded.
He picked up his speed again, fucking me faster than he had before. His cock pounded into me repeatedly, adding more to the pleasure of his fingers on my clit. I could feel my wetness leak down my thighs. I was so close, unable to hold on for much longer.
“Sam, pleaseeee..... I'm so fucking close.” I mewled.
He groaned, closing his eyes tightly. “I'm right there, babygirl. You gonna come for me?”
“Fuck, yes, yes! Please Sam!” I cried, begging.
He slammed his hand down on my mouth, letting out a small laugh. “Don't fucking scream.”
My response was muffled, but he could tell what I said.
He lowered his mouth to my ear, whispering aggressively, “Squeeze around me. Do it, Y/N. Come for me.”
I bucked my hips with abandonment, my head falling back as my cries were silenced by his hand. Sam grunted lowly as he came, his fingers pressing into my clit while he was deep inside of me. My body spasmed, my orgasm hitting me in waves.
Sam fell against me, his hands sliding and wrapping around me in a soft embrace. We stood there for a moment, catching our breaths.
The silence was cut suddenly.... by the sound of Colby's door shutting.
We pulled away from one another, glancing at each other with wide eyes. We hastily pulled our clothes back on, fixing ourselves as best we could before Colby appeared.
I turned my back towards the boys, a noticeable blush on my face. I ran my fingers through my hair, adjusting it the best I could.
“Hey did you guys order Taco Bell yet?” Colby called, his voice coming from the other side of the kitchen island.
“Um, uh. N-no. Not yet.” Sam stammered out, clearing his throat.
Colby sighed dramatically. “Can you hurry up and do it? I'm fucking starving.”
I turned around, finally feeling relaxed enough to join in. “Yeah Sam, hurry up. I'm hungry.”
“I thought you said you were full.” He stared at me with a playful glint in his eye.
“Well,” I jested, cursing him out in my head, “I guess I have a bigger appetite than I thought.”
I gave Colby a quick once over, realizing he was shirtless and in sweatpants, like usual.
Definitely a bigger appetite…
#sam golbach#sam golbach fanfiction#sam golbach fanfic#sam golbach x reader#sam and colby smut#sam golbach fic#sam golbach angst#sam golbach one shot#sam golbach oneshot#colby brock#sam and colby
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Synastry aspects that I personally don’t like.
before i start please read that I am not an official astrologer so take this with a grain of saltttt too haha. Just for fun.
North node square north node ( I’m sorry but everyone lives in a whole different worlds, completely different perspectives, mindset, somehow not letting each other move to the next step)
Chiron in 7th house overlay. ( now Chiron isn’t always bad, but there’s kind of.. pain it gives , it’s not any better in other houses, but I’m saying romantically, there could be hurt during the marriage... if you want Chiron overlays in synastry please lmk)
Pluto/Uranus in 12th house overlay. ( now Mose of y’all know 12th house overlays arent so good eventually, but i think Pluto or Uranus being there could be harsher than any other planet , could indicate so many things, one of them unpleasant endings in the relationship, finding truth about something suddenly, betrayal..in worst cases you won’t be able to forget each other )
Saturn 8th house overlay. (Sure y’all know why..)
Mars conjuct Mc/10th house. ( uhhhh it just don’t give me nice vibes when both are seen in public eye. Could be arguing in public a lot, the mars person makes it hard for the 10th person to forgive them. Works even in composite chart )
Mercury square Saturn. ( a lot of judgements and misunderstandings)
Chiron opposite asc/Venus.
Saturn opposite Neptune. (Broo)
Moon opposite moon. (Now tbh Im not really sure of this one since nobody complained about it and it could indicate “slight” emotional understanding difficulties with each other that can also cause attraction. But I’ve seen this aspect with some couple that really can’t stop hurting eachothers emotionally . )
Another moon aspect, ofc moon is the first thing you should observe In synastry s, it simply represents how each other’s emotions play with the other. now moon square moon. Obviously most of y’all know why, literally each one is on different page when it comes to how they view emotions which makes it pretty hard to understand each other’s feelings with the square aspect. ( believe it or no I have this one with my man, even knowing it I’m still with him lol. yes the attraction is definitely there due to other loving aspects and also with this one, it gives attractive energy yes. but still, he don’t understand my emotions and my point of view, struggles with analyzing me sometimes or what I even think , even when I try my best to throw him an obvious sign about something, without me speaking, he don’t get it where everyone else does same goes for me 🤣😭. he sometimes thinks I mean something the opposite of what I meant. Bottom line is with this aspect you need to speak each other’s feelings and what you want to tell the other cause it’s way too impossible to understand eachother with no words spoken. 😓 AAAA THIS IS THE ONLY STRUGGLING PLACEMENT WE HAVE AND ITS NOT EVEN A SIMPLE ONE)
Mars in 5th house, ( Now this is NOT a red flag, bUTTTT i always read about this placement represents a “not lasting relationship “ and tbh every fling I had I had this placement with, literallyyyy very guy I used to dm or talk to even for a couple of days, attraction at first but then boom, you din yourself not talking to them anymore for god knows what reason lol, so there’s something interesting about this placement. 🤔🤣 ( pink for flings 🤣)
Mars 1st house.... ( uhh you know what? Wait for part 2 😛 )
But before part 2 I’ll make my next post positive I promise, I didn’t even want to write red flags placements because it shouldnt be taken seriously haha. So next post will be about .. hmm wait , what you guys want it to be about?
Synastry observations
Natal chart observations
composite observations
Solar return observations
— Y’all literally if u find one of these placements in your synastrys it’s totally okay lol, I have multiple of these w my man and tbh some of them don’t really play this negative way for us, but i just did them for fun , ofc don’t take these TOO seriously 🥰
#astro community#astro observations#astro placements#astrology placements#astrology tumblr#obsessed synastry#asteroids in synastry#d9 chart#elegant#expensive#astro notes#astrology#red flags
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The gentle rap-tap-tap on the window startles you from the late night daze you'd been in. Blinking, rubbing your eye's, you try to clear the fog and blue light you're still lost in as you look up from the computer, having not realised just how much the dark has now enveloped your room save for the light from your computer.
"Donnie?" you ask.
He's standing outside the window, wearing only his purple hoodie. Immediately concerned by how little he's wearing and how freezing cokd it is tonight, you hurry kver from your computer to open the window. You shudder as the brittle cold sweeps in like an old friend. But then again, so does Donnie.
Pulling you into the thick of his hoodie, your face is pressed firm into the thread where the ice has settled deep deep into the cotton, like tiny frost particles, so small that your naked eye cannot see them, but so real that they summon goosbumps as they bite and melt against your skin.
"Mm, you're warm," he murmurs. His voice is low in his chest as it rumbles, like a campfire burning late before it slowly dies, snuffed out by the cool dead of the night.
"And you're freezing," you say, swiftly pushing him back to get a better look at his face.
His eyes are heavy with the weight of something he's spent far too long mulling over in a jail of his own making. A cell of himself. He does this sometimes. Forget's that he has people he can go to, people he can depend on who can help solve his problems with him instead of ruminating through the data all on his own and yet still somehow managing to come to the wrong conclusion.
The 'logical' conclusion, in his words.
"Donnie, what's wrong?" you ask. You frown at the feeling of his cold hands as they interlock with your own. You were already think about how cold it was, here in the apartment, and yet, by comparison, you're as warm as a flue.
"It happened again," he says, voice going croaky as it crumbles like chalk. His lips curve downwards and his eyes become wet with the memory of something he's already had to live over and over and over again. A reoccuring nightmare, one of a world where there's only pain and never joy; only darkness but never light; only him, and not...
"...Would you like to try and sleep here tonight?" you ask softly, seeing him slowly come back from reliving that pain somewhere deep deep behind those dark and beautiful eyes of his.
He nods, quiet and slow as he blinks back the tears and tries to maintain that cool composure he likes to wear like a shield. You wonder if he knows you've already worked out just how soft that shield really is.
"Let's get you out of this," you say, pulling his hoodie up over his head. "And into a warm bed."
Taking his hand, you toss the cold garment over onto the chair where you’d been sitting and working late, and guide Donnie towards the bed. You pull back the covers to crawl in first, and Donnie is quick to follow. He snuggles into the space between your legs as he rests his head on your chest and wraps his arms around your waist to breathe you in and feel you close.
"You're like a hot water bottle," he mumbles against your pajamas.
You consider making a joke about how cold he is, but seeing the way his eyes fall closed as he let's himself relax against you, you resort to drawing lines over the back of his soft shell instead. You feel him tense, feel him squeeze you a little tighter, and then he chokes.
"...I couldn't save him—"
"Hey, hey, hey," you coo as you wrap your hands around his head. You run your thumb against rhe underside of his cheek to try and soothe him as he shakes. "You did, though. You did save Leo. Remember? Mikey got him out!"
"But he's not the same." He trembles like a leaf lost in a tempest in your arms. "He can't sleep. He just... disappears sometimes and doesn't tell me where or why he goes. Sometimes he gets this look in his eyes like he’s not even here anymore, like he's... he's..."
"...Like he’s still trapped in that dimension?"
He sniffles. "...Yeah..."
"Donnie," you say, wiping away a stray tear as it rolls over the fabric of his mask. "Your brothers are here. All of them. I'm sure you went and checked on them before you came to me, right?"
"...Yeah."
"Leo... he might not be the same Leo as before. He just needs more time. To heal."
He looks up at you with eyes like that of a dog that looks to the moon. Loyal, loving, and hanging on every word.
"He'll come back to you. He will. You don't have to do it alone. You have your brothers. And you have me. We can help him together."
#OH MY GOD??????#well now i need to draw devastated donnie#or leo#HMMMMMMMMMMMMM#hmmmmmmmmmm hurt comfort hmmmmmmm#fic recs#faves#THANK YOU ALSO?!!?!?#my initial reactions were wondering if you got lost but im taking my wins where i get them#MINE NOW BAYBEEE
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So, it's the first time in years that I write something, the first time I do it in English, from DC AND on Tumblr, but this prompt didn't want to leave my head and I'm doing my finals, so I had to get this out somehow. Maybe I will make this into a fanfic later, but for now, my first prompt.
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Prompt Idea: DC x Beauty and the Beast
Jason walked back to his house, nodding absentmindedly at their words, as his focus was on the interlocked hands, their fingers intertwined with his clawed ones. The warm feeling from their conversation silencing the anxiety and self-consciousness about his cursed appearance, slowly starting to accept that they really don't mind it. It was not his fault, after years of people reacting with fear and disgust, it was easy to think they were faking it, their reaction so different from the rest, but Jason was tired of hoping. It was easy to just accept, no need to have expectations just to have them broken on his face, and, despite how many times it happened, it didn't stop hurting, no matter how good he became at not showing it.
The other option was not better than the usual reaction, he would even say it was worse. Jason preferred to be looked in fear and disgust by people he couldn't care less a million times than to receive the looks of pity from his family. Reason why he left the Manor so many years ago. Sometimes, he would fake not noticing how Bruce looked at him, seeing the ghost of a kid, of a Robin long gone, too lost in the past to really pay attention to the version in front of him. Jason doesn't blame him. He, too, would sometimes look in the mirror, missing his old reflection, when he was a boy, a person, and not the monster the mirror is showing these days. His clawed and furry hands were full of scars from how many times the beast that looked at him in the mirror received a punch, glass shards showering the ground, piercing his skin. Not that it mattered, the scars were the least of his problems regarding his appearance.
Then they came out of nowhere and stubbornly stayed at his side, insisting on knowing him despite everything, despite all the walls that Jason kept building, despite trying to push them away, there they are, considering him safe and, maybe, Jason was starting to believe it too.
They enter the house, their house, with them going towards the kitchen, talking about their plans for dinner and Jason notices how this became a habit, how it became so easy to interact with them, to share with them. To live with them. Maybe, there was hope. Maybe the curse could be broken. Maybe, they both could learn how to love each other. Maybe, he could be free.
But as he looks at the corner of the living room, he freezes, their voice being tuned out, his hope shattering. Time stops, only the sound of his heartbeat in his ears as he looks at his most hated place of the house. There, almost hidden by a pillar, was a small table, with a glass dome on it. Inside, a beautiful red rose, that Jason was certain was mocking him.
A lonely petal still on the flower, the last one, trembling, about to fall with all the others at the base of the dome.
It was too late.
#jason todd#jason x reader#batfam#beauty and the beast#red hood#dcu#batman#dc comics#dc universe#what if#instead of the pit madness#Jason got cursed instead?#Jason as the beast#reader as Beauty
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Noisy little mess
Hi sweetie ⁓
Here we are, it's finally monday and we can hope again in having a good, productive week (please let it be a sunny one too I can't hibernate in April I need my photosynthesis).
I'm wondering what do you think of this little work of mine, so if you feel like it you can write me whatever comment/question/any various and possible magical shit.
Have a good chocolaty day ⁓
DISCLAIMERS: little bit of touching and hints about sub/dom relationship! Finally my kinks are emerging! (evil laugh); Ghost-who-needs-to-make-peace-with-his-brain x Reader-who-needs-to-learn-how-to-shut-up; "How to be a psychologist without a degree" (by John Price); embarassing mission I hope does not exist in reality, but i needed it for plot's sake; little bit of wounds and scars (Doc.'s gonna tie you and Ghost up to a chair for the rest of your life); yelling and fighting and arguing (you're used to it by now).
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Fourth part here:
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«Why the hell you've let her-»
«MacTavish»
Price swallows through the smoked breath, clenching his fingers around the consumed cigar just to distract himself from the willingness to punch a wall, or the Sergeant's face.
«I've already had Ghost yelling at me for half an hour. Spare me»
«Then explain yourself, Cap.»
«I can't. I've no explanation. She'd done it by herself»
«She's no insubordinate»
«Not in that sense». He sighs. «I told her no. I knew it was too much for a rookie». He chews the extinguished cigar for a while, taking his time. «Laswell agreed. But that goddamn girl managed to convince Kate, somehow»
«How come?»
«Dunno. But she's already feeling bad enough, and she was the one who's got to rescue the girl»
«Laswell?? Ye serious?»
Price nods, eyes locked at the door in front of them. The doc entered almost one hour ago.
«And» Soap dares to ask «is Laswell…uhm…»
«She's ok» the Captain anticipates him. «Nothing broken. But the rookie…». He sighs again, scratching the bridge of his nose, pushing lightly his digits on the eyes. «I don't like soldiers wasting their lives like this. Especially good ones»
«The mission had to be done anyway»
«We could have waited for a better plan»
He takes a last chew on the cigar, spitting it on his glove before squeezing the leftover crumbles in his fist. He throws everything in a trashcan, then gazes at Soap.
«We've got shit to do, Sergeant. We'll come to check her later»
«They've done something bad to her». That wasn't really a question, even if Soap hopes to be wrong. «Am i right?»
«What came up in that bloody lil' head of yours?»
Three gunshots in your arm (the right one, 'cause luck kicks you in the ass as always), one blade wound and various bruises, just to complete the masterpiece. Doc sent you out of the bed with a promise: to try to not touch the medications.
One in particular.
You didn't even want to eat, but you need to. So breakfast has started, with chocolate scent, closed stomach and two pairs of gaze on your red face. You've tried to avoid contact with every human being in the base, but someone's got a good sense of smell for you. And you eventually end up with Soap and Gaz surrounding you with their (legitimate) questions.
You're blushing like hell, stirring oatmeal crumble in the mug with your eyes drowning into it.
«…I've thought…i could be helpful»
«You're a brave kid, but that was-»
«Stupid» Soap ends the sentence. «To say the least». He finishes his coffee in a sip, swallowing the hot liquid in a rush. «It wasn't a rookie's work, ye should've known»
You nod in embarrassment. «I did know»
«Then why?»
«'Cause…» you swallow, burying your eyes more into the mug, scratching the cuticles skin out of the nails. «…a girl was required. For the mission»
«Hold on» Gaz grabs your shoulder, lowering his voice. It was a confidential subject, not the one to speak about in a crowded dining room. But he keeps on with his curiosity anyway. «It was about weapons traffic, wasn't it?»
You nod.
«Then why a girl?»
You're about to answer, your mouth's already open even if you're not sure if filling them with a temporary lie, or just spit the truth.
Another sudden press on your shoulder takes you off from every doubt.
A big hand grabs you firmly, squeezing skin and bones underneath your uniform. Your body instantly shivers, tightening under the hold. You raise your head a little, but you know whose mask you're gonna jump into.
Ghost has the magical power to bring back the silence. He doesn't even have to speak, just a glare of his is enough. His look hits Soap and Gaz as to say: shut your bloody mouth; and they just roll their eyes at the ceiling, as to say: but we wanna know 'bout her mission, damn it.
Then he lowers on you just that tiny bit that's needed to let you feel his body heat closer, so warm against your cold limbs.
«Your presence is required» he says quickly, almost murmuring against your ear.
And here you are, walking behind his massive figure with eyes lowered on the ground, following his feet at a security distance through the base. He stops a couple of times to talk with someone, moments in which you play camouflaging with the wall; then you two reach a door, and you're so into not-seeing in front of you that you don't even look at where you are.
He closes the door behind you, and only after a few seconds of embarrassment you find the bravery to mumbling:
«W-who required me?»
«I do»
Your heart skips a beat before your ears could collect his voice and your synapsis could elaborate its meaning. That's when you suddenly raise your sight, finding him clinging on the desk while looking at you through the mask, and even if you can't see his face it's pretty clear that he's judging you. You can read it on the skull, as there's an imaginary -but very perceptible- neon writing saying: You're a bloody stupid gnome.
Voice escape through your lips automatically: «I'm sorry»
«'Bout what?» he kinda calls you out, pressing with his sternness on your pathetic whimpers.
Your eyes lower again.
«…causing trouble-»
«Just that?»
You nod. You don't wanna talk about what kinda trouble; but he does.
«Take off your shirt»
Your brain flashes a sudden error signal, allowing you to shiver and wrap your arms tight around yourself.
«…sir?»
Stupid question. You know why he's asking, the goddamn doctor had probably told him.
«Your shirt» he repeats, not moving from his place.
Two days ago, you would have started a war about this, yelling at him without regrets, brave enough to fight against your superior like two children between one small bucket.
Not now. Now you just stand in your special spot in the office, allowing your body to move just what is needed to breathe, eyes locked on the floor. You feel him growing impatient, sighing through the mask as you're disappointing him.
«'K. If that's so…»
The sentence remains hanging in the air, and in a matter of seconds, without getting aware of how fast he came toward you, his hands are on your shoulder. You instantly panic but you're too small to fight against his weight that's pushing you against the door, pinning you still with an hand on your breastbone while the other runs to your shirt's hem.
You grab his wrist in a stupid attempt at stopping him, but he lifts the shirt up in one movement, revealing bruises, a bloody bandage, and…a little scar slightly under the belly button, fresh from the oven and still shiny from some medical gel: the writing made out of fire burns on your skin in an elegant gothic style.
He stares at it, contemplating that swallowed piece of tattooed skin. Your face becomes so red you could spontaneously combust in this exact moment.
«Who made it?» he burst out, whispering harsh words.
You swallow hot air, digging your dry throat and hoping that whatever's gonna come out of your mouth will be the most sensible as possible.
«It's…it…traffic wasn't just 'bout weapons»
«Humans» he talks over immediately.
You nod your head, specifying with a swallow: «women»
«You've sneak in as a good to be sold»
«There was no other way to-»
«And they've marked you» his voice's not that high, but you're whispering enough to make it easy for him to have the upper hand on you. You become quiet, avoiding his sight, with your hands still wrapped around his wrist.
«Are you proud?»
The question wasn't expected, spitted roughly through his mouth. You clench your digits, digging in his gloves.
Then you nodd.
«Yes» the answer is a breath, warmth by your boldness and the consciousness that you've done what had to be done. And none would have taken that awareness from you. You eventually lift your sight a little, meeting his mask, letting the skull shape fill your eyes.
«Yes, I am»
You know he's looking at you as if he's got an idiot under his sight. You feel him judging, investigating your behavior, interrogating your posture. And you, trapped between a scary giant and a door, with his cold glove pressed where your belly still hurts, you dare to stare at him for one whole minute.
It seems enough: he lets you go, shaking your hands away from his wrists as he stands in all of his height against you.
«Good soldiers come home alive, little gnome»
«…it's a curious scolding from one who lives a dangerous life»
«I've already told ya: you don't know me»
«But i'm neither deaf nor blind»
«Buy a bloody mirror then». He takes two steps back, letting you breathe freely for the first time since you've entered the room. «Ya can say you see us clear, but speaking of seeing yourself…I can't say the same»
«I know me»
«It seems not»
Blood starts to rush to your brain as the embarrassment turns into a mixed spoonful of anger and bitterness. You follow him, still at security distance, toward his desk. «Why? 'Cause you've caught me touching myself once and I made one bloody moan?»
«'S not that, and we've already talked enough 'bout it» he mumbled, pretending to not pay attention as he looks through some documents on the table.
«Oh, oh sure! Now we've talked enough about it» your arms end up crossing on your chest. «after you've ripped my elbow»
«It was just a nerve»
«Judicially irrelevant»
«Shut your bloody mouth»
«Why? 'Cause you've told me s-»
«Yes»
You freeze; that was a cold, hard stone order. He's got his knuckles clenched on the table, his back's muscles are visibly breathing under the pressure of maintaining a glint of calm.
«You» he turns at you, pointing a finger at your freezed face «you are a goddamn idiot, one of the worst species. I've tried to convince myself you weren't actually so stupid but, damn god, was i right in the first place»
Guilt assaults you with a knife at your throat, for reasons you don't know. And you find your eyes lower, your spirit evaporated, your anger extinguished under his glare. You try to mutter:
«I've just done my duty-»
«You threw away your life»
«The mission had to be done, that was our last possibility to catch that damn illegal traffic» you rush, raising your voice to grow some confidence in your speech «Laswell needed a woman and i just did my damn work!»
And he almost barks back, raising stern and furious eyes at you: «than what 'bout asking someone more experienced, you bloody asshole?!»
«'Cause it was needed a woman with-!». You suddenly stop, biting your inner cheek as a last word slips, almost like a whisper, through your lips: «…inclinations»
He's left speechless for a while, standing in front of you with the finger still hanging toward your figure. You swallow; you know he's going to ask more, and that's just 'cause you can't keep your mouth shut.
As if you've called it, he spit out a terse: «Explain»
You sigh. This would be a great time to sink ten meters underground.
«I» you start gesticulating, drawing figures in the air with your hands «I am…i-»
You expect him to joke about your incapability of connecting two words together; but he remains silent, looking at you almost with curiosity. And you're forced to keep on talking.
«…I like certain things people don't usually…agree to do» you force words outside your mouth, with cheeks on fire and eyes buried on the pavement.
His conclusion wastes no time to come:
«You're a submissive»
It's not a question, it's a truth and it hits you like a brick in the face, as if he'd already understood your particular nature till the beginning. There's no need for more explanation: you know what kind of submissive he's referring to, and he evidently knows just enough about the subject to grin, just a little, under the mask.
«The target was known for his…peculiar sexual tastes». The additional clarification was not necessary, but he gives it anyway. He let out a soft chuckle, almost like he's having fun thinking about it. «I can't believe that Laswell really rely on this stupid trick»
You would really clarify how much Laswell fought against your will to volunteer for that risk, but your voice is gone under the embarrassment. Your digits are digging into cuticles again, and you're about to pretend to not exist, turn your heels and just go away.
And you don't even notice he's got closer again, till he forces your face up by roughly grabbing your cheeks in one hand.
The disappointment is palpable.
«You've run into that perv's den alone, risking yourself for a mission you knew you couldn't handle…just to satisfy your throbbing cunt?»
That hit you worse than every other thing he's thrown at you till now. Your cheeks catch fire in his hands, guilt choke air in your lungs and poisonous butterflies eat your stomach, whispering through the entrails: he's right.
But you don't want him to be right.
«I've just decided to put every weapon I've got at your service» you spit out.
His grip gets tighter. «Sure thing. And what have you gained? Apart of a saving operation that wasted everyone's time, of course»
«Mission was completed»
«We would have found another way to do it, rookie»
«But I did it» you grab his wrist, trying again to escape from his hold. «And i'm alive, so why the hell are we even talking about-»
It happens all of a sudden: he pushes you again against the door, harder and roughly enough to make your spine squeak on it. You hold a yell, and one second after you can't breathe anymore.
He holds you by your mouth, pushing on your face with his whole hand open, while the other runs down right under your belly, squeezing on your crotch like it's made of play dough.
«This is no playfield». His voice is almost a growl murmur in your ear as he lowers enough to overcome you with his bigger body. «Soldiers have morals. And dignity. Maybe 's not clear to your pretty little brain. So: watch» and he speaks slowly, growling coldness with tongue maid of sharp metal, his eyes on you with that goddamn mask supply (and you're sure you're gonna dream about his sight forever) «your. Bloody. Mouth. Kitty»
The nickname, the grip on your pants, the fact that you're breaking your personal apnea record…just burn your brain. And, in a loss of breath, trying so desperately to find a way out of that embarrassment while freezing your hormones that are already running too low on your body…
You bite him.
You sink your teeth in his glove as hard as you can, ripping off that goddamn dignity he was speaking about, letting the residual rage work as a fuel for your mouth. He suddenly jerks with a step back, catched by surprise, tearing his hands away, and to do so…he pushes with the other hand on your lower belly.
On your goddamn freshly engraved and barely healed tattoo.
On the scar the doc pleaded with you not to touch.
You spit his glove out of your mouth, yelling like your vocal chords have turn into a megaphone.
Ten minutes later, you two are waiting outside of the infirmary.
The knock on the door doesn't distract him, too focused pretending to find his paperwork attractive.
Price gets in without invitation.
«Just a word» he sits at the desk, usual hat at his place and cigar climbing from his lips «between me and you»
Ghost doesn't lift his sight.
«I've talked with doc-»
«I don't need to be scold 'bout it, if that's what ya'r here for»
Price sighs a low, maybe a little bit too paternal: «Ghost-»
«If you two» Simon raises his voice a little «believe in trusting every goddamn rookie, sending them risking their bloody neck just 'cause they've told you how good they are at shaking their ass-»
«You've already yelled about it, give my ears a rest. In any case, Laswell made the best choice in her position» Captain talks over him. «And I agree with her. We couldn't lose that opportunity, Simon»
«She didn't even managed to end the mission alone»
«But the rookie did a great job. Only problem was taking her out of that shit»
«You can't seriously call a kink exploitation one "great job"»
«She's a soldier. We're not here to babysit, risking our life 's part of our contract»
Silence.
Price starts to get nervous, feeling some mixed emotions that he really can't stand at six in the evening. He suddenly stands up, patting both hands on the desk, taking a deep breath before exhaling a long, almost exhausted:
«There's nothing bad in making friends with your allies…»
Ghost is already rushing an "i don't need friends" kinda sentence, but Price anticipates him:
«Me too, i've made friendships on the battlefield that i hope will last as long as my bones will walk on the dirt. Then, we could die together and be happy in whatever hell God'll decide to send us. But» and his "but" was final «i know what you're doing here. Stop it. It's gonna be draining, for the both of you»
Ghost spits out: «I'm doing nothin'», too rushed, then muttering: «Don't even like her»
«I don't care who you like. You can marry whoever you want, you've got my approval»
«For fuck's sake Price-»
«Wanna delete her from your eyesight? Just look straight in front of you from now on. Wanna keep an eye on her?» John raises his hands, throwing Ghost's embarrassment in the air while admitting with the most honest attitude: «Sure. Ok. I keep an eye on you all every goddamn minute of my life. She's not a princess, though. And ya'r not a bloody knight»
Silence becomes again the king in the office. Price is still fixed in his extreme openness, ready to give his Lt. the best suggestions on how-to-not end up again at the infirmary with that goddamn rookie (before the doc kills the both of them).
Then Ghost finally raises his gaze.
And Price has a bad s-.,ensation in his guts, almost like he'd said something he shouldn't have.
«Keeping…an eye on her» Simon repeats, lost in thoughts.
John nodds, hesitating before leaving the office.
..................................................
#call of duty modern warfare#call of duty#cod#cod mw2#cod mwii#cod fanfic#fanfiction#writers on tumblr#ghost x reader#ghost x you#johnny soap mctavish#kyle gaz garrick#john price#writing dialogues is so funny#Price is basically becoming more and more the pscyhologist of the team#Task Force 141 is a close team of gossiper#don't know if ou've already noticed but i don't know shit about miitary life#it will be something more spicy sooner or later#for now just hints about sub/dom relationship
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☆彡The sky longs to see the sun go down
Title from Fly by Bloodwitch
Summary: It’s a hot day today, but not hot enough to get a handjob from a certain best friend!
Notes: Is a crack fic supposed to be written this seriously. Forgive for some of the rambling and rushed writing it’s 4AM and I am running on sparkling water and belvita snacks. This was just for funsies ▼・ᴥ・▼
Cw: Male/Male, reader has cock and balls, some noncon mention, humiliation mention, sexuality denial, misoginy in one sentence, mentions of Ashley and Ada, OOC cause Leon’s a perv, mentions of fisting? Lol
Wc: 1,872
You tug at the hem of your sweater self-consciously, the combination of sweat and oil making you shudder. It’s gross; makes you feel like you spent hours stuck in a locked car without the windows down or proper air conditioning. Kind of like a dog or a baby, except it must be worse for them. It’s not like you’re actually trapped somewhere after all— not permanently. It’s just that your room’s AC is broken, and you lack the balls to call up a repairman due to fear of judgement.
What? It’s a scary thing. What if with one good look they take off running for the hills? It’s a possibility. One in a million, but still a possibility. Still, it’s so damn hot in here that you consider going through with it. Anything is better than sitting in your personal hell— even calling someone through the phone. Maybe if you still lived with your dad, he could have helped. Mom would surely say “do it yourself” and leave you hanging. It’s not like she knows anything about that stuff anyways, she’s a woman.
Sitting up with a groan, you pass a hand over the bed sheets you were just laying on, cringing when moisture collects on your skin. It’s even worse when you look back and see the massive patch of sweat in the shape of your body on the bed. It’s like a crime scene. A nasty, sweaty crime scene. Enough is enough. You really can’t take much more of this. You feel like you’re dying, and no it’s not an exaggeration. This is why you prefer winter over summer. Sure, it gets cold, but honestly you’d rather freeze than melt into a puddle of goo.
First your sweater goes, then your shirt, then your pants, then your socks and shoes. You strip it all until you’re standing completely naked in the middle of your room. It’s not like your roommate is here. Well, he is, but he’s showering. Asshole got to the bathroom first before you could. The water has been running for at least thirty minutes now, and it bothers you more than you’d like to admit. Whatever though, right? Leon is Leon. He’s a greedy bastard, no matter how much he denies it. It’s like, just because you’re friends doesn’t mean you get to be pushed around and shit.
Just ‘cause it gets your heart fluttering and your blood flowing to places that are better left unnamed doesn’t mean you like it. (read: yes it does).
Somehow, it’s only getting hotter in here now. Getting somewhat desperate, you walk over to open the window beside your bed with a huff, having to crawl over the mattress to do so— which leaves you in a rather suggestive position. One that, due to your focus on the heat, catches Leon’s attention as soon as he walks in. Maybe you’d have focused more on the sound of the shower turning off if you weren’t so damn busy. Anyways, Leon isn’t so dignified either. He wears nothing but a thin towel around his waist, skin glistening with water droplets and moisturizing lotion. It’s not a gay thing, he promises that. Can’t men look good too?
The first thing his eyes land on is the way your ass juts out, back slightly curved as you used whatever strength you could from your upper body to slide the window up. Although he’s never particularly been interested in men, you’re his best friend. That’s different. He’s been friends with you since like… childhood. That’s enough time to make him forget about the junk between your legs. Though, it’s pretty hard to do that now when he’s staring straight at it. At least your cock is smaller than his. He’s just been standing there staring like a weirdo with nothing better to do. He gets an idea when his cock starts to kick, blood rushing to the thick length, making it stand tall at attention. He’s always wanted to try anal.
You finally get that window open after some grunting and huffing, hoping the small draft of fresh air would be enough to cool you down. With a sigh of relief, you turn only to come face-to-face with your best friend. Leon watches with a subtle smirk as you yelp and scramble to shield your bare body with the blanket left draped over the bed. It’s almost pitiful. And somewhat offensive? You’ve been friends for years, but you can’t even stand being naked around him? Some friend you are.
He snatches the blanket away with a quick hand, the movement making the towel around his waist fall and bunch around his legs. Now they’re both naked. “What?” He huffs, “Never seen a guy’s junk before?”
He knows that’s not true. You know that too. You’ve seen a guy’s junk before. Just not your best friend’s. Confused and embarrassed, you still try to cover yourself up with your hands, cupping them over your crotch. “What’s wrong with you?” You glare, shooting Leon a scowl. “You couldn’t have knocked or something?” You try not to stare, you really try. But it’s staring right at you. His dick. Uncircumcised and honestly a decent length. It’s not like it’s monstrously big or something, that’s ridiculous. Not that you’d mind if it was. Death by huge cock would be a nice way to go.
Leon rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. He’s acting so damn nonchalant, as if his dick isn’t twitching against his tummy, begging for attention. “Really? I could have sworn this was my place too.” He doesn’t hide his staring, not at all. You can see as clear as day that his eyes are looking directly at your crotch, examining closely. It’s a stare that could almost come across as judgmental, and that makes your cheeks heat up with humiliation. Sheepishly, you shut your thighs, dipping your chin so you could peer up at Leon through your lashes.
“Yeah, well…” You trail off, unsure of what to say at this point.
“You know,” Leon butts in before you could even finish your train of thought, “you have a nice cock.”
“Huh?” You stammer, mouth dumbly shaping an ‘O’ out of shock. Did he really just say that? Were your ears deceiving you? Well, obviously not, since he repeats himself without a care in the world.
“I said you have a really nice cock.” Leon nods, as if he were some sort of penis reader or something. It kind of reminds you of those competitions they would hold at fairs. What pig is bigger? Well, in this case, which cock is nicer? Now vote! Honestly, it brings you an odd sense of warmth knowing your best friend would vote for you in that case. Enough about cock comparison and voting though, you’re snapped out of your thoughts when you feel warm hands grab onto each of your thighs. What the fuck is he doing now? You don’t think your best friend would touch you without your explicit approval (not that you’d mind), but he’s getting oddly touchy.
“You know,” Leon clears his throat awkwardly, struggling with social ineptitude just as much as you were. “I hear guys touch their friends sometimes… just for fun…” As he speaks, his hands gently push yours away from your crotch, the thick pad of his thumb running a slow line towards your penis. Immediately, your heart jumps so high you swear you feel it in your throat. You wouldn’t say no to this. Not really. It’s a tricky situation, but who wouldn’t want their dick rubbed by their bestie? Especially one known for his good-looks. A few seconds of thumbing at the base, and he finally wraps a hand around your length, squeezing lightly.
“Woah!” You gasp, breathing coming out hitched and ragged. It feels good, so good. The combination of adrenaline and pleasure might be too much. Honestly, you’re way more worried about what you’re saying. What kind of imbecile says ‘woah!’ while getting a handjob by their best friend? You, that’s who. Judging by the slightly amused look on Leon’s face, he thinks you’re an idiot. But you’re the idiot he’s jacking off, so who’s really the embarrassing one here? All you can hear is the slow schlick schlick schlick of his fist pumping your meat, the noise wet and sticky due to the amount of precum you had produced in a short amount of time.
Yeah, you’re not lasting at all. Who fucking cares? You’re getting your dick beat! By your best friend!
You groan into the palm of your hand, pathetic moans and whimpers escaping you within every second. Man, you’d be a good pornstar. Maybe you should consider it; college debt would be paid off much easier. Hips tilting forward for more, you watch intently, taking in every detail. Leon’s no different, he’s just as enthralled. Dare he say he’s finally getting what he’d dreamed of. Assuming dreaming about jacking your friend was normal. Maybe he’d try sticking this same hand up your ass later. He dreamt about that too at some point. Maybe he just likes you or something. That thought is weirder to him than all the other ones though.
His arm is starting to get tired, but he doesn’t slow down or anything, he just picks up pace. Fisting your cock is just as straining as when he lifts weights at the gym, and he considers doing this instead of working out every weekend. Easier to do and cheaper. Sure, he’s got all the money he could possibly need, but $30 for a gym membership that he has to pay for monthly is too much, even for him. He tightens his grip a little, squeezing rhythmically once he feels your cock starting to twitch and jump, signaling oncoming orgasm.
“Ah! Fuck! There… there!” You practically whine, back arching and hips bucking weakly, the muscles in your belly tightening and relaxing as wave after wave of pure, unbridled ecstasy washed over you. Who knew a handjob could feel this good? From someone else, that is. The ones you give yourself don’t match up. Leon obliges, continuing with his set pace and watching as thick spurts of cum splashed onto his hand, the enthusiastic bursts soon turning into lazy, creamy drools down the slit of your cock. He thought it’d be kind of gross to get someone else’s cum on him like this, but seeing how dazed and disoriented you looked made him smile, and that’s what counts. It’s not all that bad.
Curious, he brought his cum-coated hand up to his face, tongue lolling out to lap up one swipe of the mess. It smells musky, and tastes… peculiar. Not bad, so that means your diet is good at least. Just kind of salty and sticky, if sticky were a taste. There’s no other way to describe it really. He had remembered the taste of Ada’s cum and Ashley’s from when he had eaten them out before when they were dating (separately), but theirs also had variety. Anyways, instead of thinking like some cum connoisseur, he waits for you to finish panting and whimpering like some overheated dog before speaking.
“So, my turn?”
#kastelixa ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱#kastelixa#leon kennedy x y/n#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x you#leon s kennedy x reader#leon s kennedy x y/n#leon s kennedy x you#smut#resident evil x reader#leon kennedy x male reader#literally just me rambling lol#wrote at 4am on a discord call w a friend#yes we spun a wheel for the trope#friends to lovers won#more like friends to friends with benefits?
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i admit that i find it a little bit frustrating how Wildly Astonished other antizionist jews act when i tell them my israeli jewish family have lived in the region since [some unknown length of time before 1800 when there start being records about it]
#and then they're like ''ohhh they're mizrahi!'' [connotation nonwhite‚ virtuously indigenous]#and i have to be like. no. it's just that‚ as palestine was in fact ottoman-administered greater syria for most of the last 600 years‚#you could get there from other parts of the ottoman empire. such as the part of now-ukraine your ashkenazi family is also from.#it wasn't actually a hermetically sealed arab-only ethnostate that evaporated immigrants on sight. it was a pretty decent place to live as#a jew by at least some accounts. or better than the front of the hapsburg-ottoman war anyway which is where they were coming from.#i'm not sure who you think it's serving exactly to believe that there were literally no ashkenazim in the middle east before the 1st aliyah#however there were some. and this information does not actually threaten a modern anti-state of israel position like at all.#but since apparently you've constructed your new Diaspora-Centric Identity around the idea that 'palestine' and 'diaspora'#are the two mutually exclusive nonoverlapping regions and the former is ontologically a no-european-jews-allowed zone#i guess i can give you a minute to try to figure it out.#ugh sorry this is nothing it isn't anything. for one thing it's fantastically unimportant#and for another thing i don't know how to like talk about it in a way that doesn't make me sound at least kind of like im trying to justify#myself as being somehow less complicit or something. i mean i think my complicity as an american dwarfs the rest of it honestly but.#i just feel really insanely alienated where the rhetoric of my theoretically most closely politically aligned group is not really built to#like. accommodate the facts of my family history.#sorry. i have honestly no idea why im so obsessed with articulating this concept ive just been chewing on it pointlessly for days#box opener
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as a person who has been here since we only had the vv mock trailer, who witnessed jimmysea get their first public events to promo vice versa, who sat here through all the hate vv and jimmysea got back then, who had to witness all the shit going down, and now seeing ppl praise last twilight so much and love morkday so much is truly, Truly making me so emotional
#those are my boys#MY BOYS#and part of me wants to gatekeep them#with the 'you didn't love them during their vv era so you don't get to have them in their lt era' mentality#but a bigger part feels like a proud mother#witnessing her child get new friends in school#or succeed in some school competition#they mean so much to me#it sometimes seems so silly to think like this of two guys who live on the other side of the world#and who don't even know i exist#but they feel so important somehow#and their presence helps a lot with all this living stuff#so now seeing them get this love and hype and recognition truly means so much#it was a hard year ok#a very painful year#but i am hoping that it gets better now
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not a man or a woman but a secret third thing (girlguy)
#incoherent turtle noises#remember when i said i wouldnt have any more gender breakthroughs cos i got it all figured out? ‘twas hubris.#having gender thoughts is fun and nice its way better than being anxious about the reality of living#im like. man doesnt rly describe me like ill go with it but i rly prefer saying guy. and im def not a woman but ill call myself girl#im just a lil weirdo normalguy girlgenderthing. im an ikea shark. im a quagsire. im a tiger keychain.#and yet somehow im still on the fence abt calling myself nonbinary. in technical terms i always have been but in terms of wanting a label..#ehhh… i dont rly feel…like yes nonbinary is an umbrella term comprising all kinds of identity and pronouns but um. just being fr.#i dont wanna get they/themmed by randos more than i already do. sry but like u know its true! it already happens & i got he/him in the bio!
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