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#but the moment he hits dry land
latinforest · 4 months
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Jack Sparrow walks like That because he’s more accustomed to walking on ship decks.
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youremyonlyhope · 8 days
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There is a nonzero chance that I have COVID.
Yayyyyyyyy.
Let's hope it's just a cold...
#but we know that at least one person in my cast has covid#and i hugged him last night and talked to him a lot post-show with my mask off#i mask during the show but since we were eating and drinking i didn't at that time#sooooooo we shall see we shall see. thank god backstage i'm not as much around the cast as they are with each other.#other people in the cast have colds though. but most have not tested for covid. and honestly more might have covid.#is it bad i'm putting off testing too...#i almost don't want to know if i do... or at least... i don't want to know for the next 12 hours...#if i DO have it then it'll be an easier time than last time when i started developing symptoms on my way home from hawaii#and that was like 18 hours straight of traveling and due to the time difference i arrived home almost exactly a day later.#and over the course of those 18 hours (because literally my throat started feeling itchy at the start of the first of 3 plane rides)#i felt sicker and sicker and sicker. and in the uber home i was like i wanna die. but didn't sleep#because when i got home it was like 10am so i didn't want to totally mess up my sleep schedule so i stayed up most of the day#(i think i did nap at one point) and by midnight when i went to bed i was like oh i'm definitely sick with something#and at 4am when i was woken by a stupid tornado warning i realized i had been sweating in my sleep and likely had a fever#and woke up the next day at 11-ish finding out someone from the hawaii wedding had covid so i should test too#and my brother said the moment my swab hit the activator/indicator/whatever it was a solid positive line. yayyyy.#that was about 48-ish total hours between first symptoms and testing positive.#so. IF i have covid. i might not even test positive right now since i've only felt this sickness in my chest for like 5 hours.#at this point i'd be landing from the first plane and having a layover. and convincing myself it was just the dry airplane air.#i'd still have 2 red eye flights ahead of me to be miserable on while the symptoms progressed.#so i can definitely handle sleeping tonight and running a show tomorrow morning and then see how i feel.#also this might be psychological since i didn't really start feeling sick until AFTER i found out about the sick cast member.#that's a very very real possibility since i got so paranoid when i first heard he was sick and missing the show.
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hannieehaee · 1 month
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18+ / mdi
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content: bf!jungkook, mentions of him accidentally elbowing you, afab reader, smut, way too much kissing, this is just pwp, dry humping, penetrative sex, etc.
wc: 1403
a/n: i know i mostly write svt but i decided to start writing for jungkook too!! :D i hope u guys enjoy<3
masterlist
"ow!"
"oh, fuck, baby, i'm sorry! where did i hit you?", jungkook frantically turned around upon realizing his elbow had made contact with something – with that something being you.
"it's fine, kook. i should've announced my presence," you said as you rubbed the boob that had just been struck by his elbow.
it was quite early in the morning, and you'd found your boyfriend not in bed when you woke up. getting up, you sleepily made your way to your kitchen only to find your equally sleepy boyfriend's back facing you as he worked the oven.
"sorry, baby. i just woke up, i wasnt expecting you here so early- give me just one second," he turned around to turn off the oven he had just been using, turning back around to tend to you afterwards.
"lemme see where i hit you," his eyes showed genuine remorse at the minimal accident.
"it's was just my boob, baby, it's fine."
"oh," he halted for a moment, "let me see?", his eyes went down to where your hand was currently rubbing at your breast, having had the hardest part of his elbow unfortunately bump harshly against your nipple.
"jungkook-"
"let me kiss it better?", he asked, tone now a bit heavier.
"'kiss it'?"
he nodded silently, hands already reaching to the ends of your shirt, awaiting for permission to lift it up. when you didn't stop him, simply too freshly awake and dumbfounded to process what he was doing, he continued, allowing his hands to push up your shirt and leave it lying above your breasts.
your nipples were hard due to the impact, chest heaving a bit at jungkook's sudden shift in behavior.
a hand went up to your breast, inspecting it before the thumb gently passed over your nipple.
"here? is there where it hurts, baby?", he asked with a slightly patronizing tone in his voice.
it always rendered you speechless when he did this, when the mood struck and he decided to speak to you so dumbly, as if you needed a step by step through these interactions. it served specially well in the mornings, when you weren't fully yourself yet.
you nodded, eyes staring right at his with your mouth slightly agape.
"oh, pretty. look, it's all hard and swollen. poor baby ... let me kiss it? hmm? gonna kiss it all better ..." he murmured as his head dipped, tongue landing on your nipple.
he hmph'd, groaning against your breast while his hands wrapped around your waist, bringing you as close to him as possible. he laved over your sensitive tit, becoming more agitated by the second as he continued to make out with your breast. being so early, you were extra sensitive, letting out breathy moans at how expertly he suckled at your tit.
taking turns, he lavished your tits with saliva, leaving a few marks here and there as he continued to make love to your breasts. his moans of appreciation were the loudest thing in the room. on occasion, he would nuzzle against your tits, using his hands to press them together against his face before bringing them back to your waist.
he finally pulled away, one last nibble pulling at your nipple before disconnecting completely, chuckling at the whine you let out at the slight pain from it.
"is that better?", he whispered, lips now far too close to your own.
looking up at him, mind clouded, you nodded numbly, eyes straying down to his lips. he chuckled at your clear want, dipping down to finally kiss you, landing a wet and languid kiss against your lips.
"pretty ... so fucking pretty in the mornings," he murmured, repositioning you so he could crowd you against the counter, lifting you slightly so you could sit on it, his body now between your legs.
"kookie ..." you sighed when his lips trailed down your throat, hands making their way to your shirt, which he was yet to fully remove, throwing it off before doing the same to his own.
your hands instantly when to feel up and down his toned torso, making him sigh against your ear as his own hands felt you up.
eventually his hands grabbed onto your hips, pulling them as close to the edge of the counter in order to make them meet his own. his own hips began to cant against your own, holding you in place so he could grind against you to his heart's contentment.
the only separation between you were his boxers and your panties, making the grind of his cock against your cunt feel extra delicious.
"so fucking needy for me," he groaned before making his way back to your lips, hips sensually seeking out your own.
your nails dug into his shoulders at the friction, making you open your mouth in a gasp. jungkook took free advantage of this, licking into your mouth and sucking on your tongue while his hips took everything they wanted from your own.
but then he got frustrated, as he usually did.
dry humping was one of jungkook's favorite activities. he'd engage with it in the most innocent of scenarios. all he needed was you and a surface and he'd find himself licking into your mouth as he dragged his cock against your cunt. however, this would only ever last for so long. he'd always grow far too hungry for you to not fuck you.
he halted his movements for a few seconds in favor of lowering his boxers, also aiding you in lifting your hips to lower your own panties. it was all hasty in nature, with jungkook barely even preparing you with his fingers for a few moments before slipping in, groaning at the way you enveloped him so easily.
jungkook loved you in the mornings. having wanted to check if he had hurt you this morning had just been the perfect excuse to initiate morning sex with you. he had woken up too early, opting to make breakfast for you rather than wake up in your arms and have his way with you. this, however, gave him the perfect compromise.
"m-more," you whined into his neck, kissing at it as his hips began to take a rhythm.
"so fucking pretty and soft in the mornings, angel," he mumbled, hips taking on a deep yet sensual grind against you.
he never liked to go fast and hard in the mornings, always opting to be as soft as he could. he adored these domestic moments, knowing that no one could ever recreate how naturally you'd seek pleasure from each other.
however, it did come with a downside.
as sensitive as you were in the mornings, so was jungkook.
there was something about having just woken up, still smelling like the warmth between the sheets and in a completely natural state. all his senses were heightened, and his love for you was always through the roof at this time.
he whined and huffed against your neck, eyes rolling back slightly at how you'd tighten around him. your own pretty moans of his name did not help matters at all, making his hips begin rutting uncontrollably against your own as his orgasm approached.
"gonna cum for me, pretty?"
"m-mhm!," you whined, lips making their way to his.
god, how he loved kissing you as he came. it was the most intimate thing he could ever do, swallowing your cries of his name into his lips as you trembled against him, arms shaky as they attempted to use him as support while your orgasm took over.
"k-kookie! fuck ... cum? cum with me? please, need- shit. please ..."
and how could he not cum immediately when you begged so prettily for him? when you were the softest thing he had ever held in his arms? when you had been so pliant and obedient under his fake vice to kiss your injury better?
he came with a groan against your lips, moaning your name in breathy sighs as you milked him dry, taking all of him like you always did.
you heaved against each other for some moments as you caught your breaths, you groaning slightly at the mess left behind when jungkook finally pulled out of you.
"'kiss it better,' huh?" you eyed him in mock judgment.
"you feel better, don't you?", he snorted, doing a messy job of cleaning you up with some kitchen towels.
"shut up and finish making breakfast."
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solarmorrigan · 8 months
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“Oh shit, what’s wrong?”
Steve watches, horrified, as Eddie reaches up with his free hand to swipe at the moisture gathering beneath his eyes.
“Nothing, man,” Eddie croaks, and Steve doesn’t believe him for a moment.
“Did I hurt you? Is the bandage on wrong? Too tight?” Steve becomes aware as he speaks that he’s all but clutching Eddie’s hand in his own and makes a conscious effort to loosen his grip.
This only seems to make things worse; Eddie makes a noise of protest and grabs more tightly to Steve’s hand and then looks twice as mortified as before, and that’s not at all what Steve wants.
Changing Eddie’s bandages is a goddamn ordeal; there are so many of them, and they seem to be everywhere, and Eddie doesn’t have the good drugs anymore, just Tylenol, and he’s always exhausted and sore by the end of it all. Steve doesn’t want to make him feel worse.
He would start fixing it, if he only knew what he’d done.
“Eddie,” he says softly, “please tell me what’s wrong.”
Eddie shakes his head, swiping under his eyes again. “It’s seriously nothing, it’s stupid. It’s just…” he hesitates, and Steve squeezes his hand encouragingly. “It reminded me of my mom, what you did, with the little – like, the little kiss on the bandage when you finished putting it on. She used to do that.”
“Oh – shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, like, overstep, or–”
“You didn’t–”
“I thought it would make you laugh or something, not drag out some sad memory, and–”
“Steve,” Eddie cuts in more firmly, “you didn’t. I’m not fuckin’ sad, it just – kinda hit me weird. That’s all.”
Steve purses his lips, staring up at Eddie from the kitchen floor, where he’s been kneeling in order to work at the bandages. He’s not sure if he should get out of Eddie’s space now, maybe give him a minute to himself, because Eddie is still holding onto his hand, and Steve still has another bandage to change out, and then Eddie rolls his eyes at him.
“Stop looking at me like you ran over my dog, man. I swear to god, I’m fine. It was kinda nice, actually, alright?” Eddie huffs. “Like, I forgot about that, until you did it, so it was– it was kinda nice.”
“Oh,” Steve says.
“Yeah. So do you think we could just…” Eddie gestures at his cheek with his free hand, and Steve nods.
“Yeah, lemme– I’ll finish up.”
The bandage on Eddie’s cheek is the last to change out, and Steve tries to make it quick. He has Eddie hold his hair to the side as he works, mostly to give him something to do with his hands – there are a million hair ties still floating around the house from before Robin cut her hair (Steve finds more every time he vacuums, he swears the things multiply in the dark), but Steve’s found that giving Eddie some kind of task keeps him still while Steve deals with disinfectant and gauze.
He's gotten the process down to something simple and efficient, and it feels like he’s done too soon. Eddie takes a sidelong glance at him when he takes his hands away, though he’s obediently holding still until he’s given the all-clear.
“Done?” he asks.
“Almost, yeah,” Steve says. “One last thing.”
Slowly, in case Eddie wants to pull back, Steve leans in and presses a featherlight kiss to the center of the bandage, holding his breath in shivery anticipation of Eddie’s reaction.
“That alright?” Steve asks quietly.
“Uh.” Eddie drops his hair and turns to look at Steve, eyes wide but dry this time. “Yeah. That’s– Actually, no.” Steve’s stomach drops when Eddie shakes his head, but then Eddie goes on, “I think you should do it one more time. Just, like, to make sure it works.”
“Yeah?” A slow grin curls over Steve’s face as his stomach makes its way back up from where it had landed near his ankles. “I think you’re right. Better safe than sorry.”
Steve leans in again, giving the bandage a quick, gentle peck. Then, because he can’t quite help himself, he presses another kiss to Eddie’s chin. And then, because they’re right there, pink and inviting and slightly parted as Eddie watches Steve with rapt attention, Steve presses one last kiss to his lips.
Eddie barely has time to return it, but he laughs when Steve pulls away. “Pretty sure my mouth was never injured, Steve.”
“You sure?” Steve shoots back.
“I mean– Well, you could check,” Eddie offers.
“Yeah, I could,” Steve says, leaning back in for another kiss – one that he thinks should be much more thorough.
All in the name of proper care, of course.
[Prompt: Kissing your partner's wounds]
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hotgirlssupportlando · 2 months
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"...i swear to god there will be a bodybag and not an ambulance waiting for you at the next race"
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pairing: protective!max verstappen x fem!f1 driver!reader summary: y/n taking a lot of shit from her bullying teammate causing them to crash into each other during a race. her being in bad condition after the crash making max protective and angry wanting some justice for y/n. fluff end after a whole lotta angst warnings: bad crashing, angst, threats, almost physical abuse? notes: can't get angry and protective max out of my head so just had to write something!! teammate is made up but faceclaiming estiebestie (sorryy) wc: 2,6k
y/n saw red. the anger inside of her bubbled up and if she hadn’t had the willpower of steel the volcano inside of her would’ve erupted. the man in front of her, her so called teammate was once again acting like a total asshole. y/n couldn’t even keep count on every name she had been called, every false accusation he had stated and every attempt of getting her out of the team he had tried since they both became teammates. she was drained, deeply and utterly drained. it was getting harder and harder to try and ignore the abuse she was faced with every day around this man. but once again she was stood in front of him, taking all the shit he had to say, staring blankly at him knowing that this argument would only fuel her racing ability this weekend. 
as the pair stood outside the alpine garage argumenting, max could from a distance see y/n’s eye roll at her teammate. he felt a flame start in him as he saw that the situation began to go out of control, rapidly max started walking over to the alpine drivers to get y/n out of the situation. as he reached the pair he glanced at the man before turning to y/n, gently asking her to come with him. she nodded and they walked away in silence. max put his arm around her shoulder knowing that the girl beside him was in a fragile state and as the arm landed on y/n she felt like every hidden emotion was about to burst out of her. the tears were on the verge of falling and the built up anger made her wanting to hit something, or someone. 
slowly they approached max’s drivers room and without yet exchanging a word with each other they both knew this situation from inside and out, as it had happened the last five race weekends. as max shut the door behind them to his room y/n turned to him and every held back tear started to fall as a waterfall. he opened up his arms for her to be embraced in and y/n crashed into him. trying to keep herself on her feet she desperately grabbed on to the back of max’s fireproofs to have something holding her up. max put his head on top of hers, holding her tightly whilst stroking her hair. 
”i just hate him so fucking much.. ughh how can a person be that much of an asshole?” y/n cried out.
”shh i know y/n, i hate him too. and i swear to god if the team doesn’t do anything about him, i sure will” max whispered.
y/n sniffled as she tilted her head up facing the red bull driver. their eyes locked and a small smile cracked on y/n’s lips knowing max would do anything for her. max smiled back, still stroking her back trying to get her soothed. 
”you know i would fight him for you?” max smiled to the girl.
”thank you, i would too if my contract didn’t say otherwise” y/n chuckled drying her tears with her sleeve. max chuckled too, taking her once again into his embrace and held her head against his chest. y/n felt at home in the arms of her dear friend. or situationship. wherever their relationship was at the moment she always knew he would be there for her. 
__
one day later during the race
y/n had gotten a pretty good start of the race and felt that her first podium was about to become reality for her. of course max led the race so the first step of the podium was ruled out already. she was p3 and five laps remained of the race when the side mirrors revealed a car approaching in familiar blue and pink colours. ’fuck’ she muttered. while getting team orders that the pair of teammates were allowed to fight for the podium position, she started playing up all the comments her teammate had dropped during the last weeks. this lighted a fire in her willing to do anything to outperform the man behind her. she just couldn’t let him win, she couldn’t let him have another reason to bully her.
her teammate and her were fighting at any given chance, y/n defending like her life depended on it. with only one lap remaining the pair were side by side on a long straight approaching a tight corner when all of a sudden y/n felt her car was out of control and crashing into the barriers. the whole situation went in slow motion and she couldn’t grasp what had happened as she had went into the corner leading of the alpine drivers. while trying to figure out what just happened she suddenly felt another big crash into her car making her unconscious. 
max’s pov
the checkered flag was waving in front of him, taking yet another victory. smilingly he looked up at the leaderboard looking for y/l/n knowing she was third last time he checked. confused he saw your name rapidly dropping down the leaderboard while seeing a red flag being waved. his gut wrenched. he tried asking his team why the red flag was waved but was only met with ’big crash in turn 14’. max slowed down his car significantly and as he approached the fourteenth corner he couldn’t believe what he was witnessing. 
two alpine cars had collided, one of them side by side with the barriers with the other car piercing the side of the first car. when realizing that the car that was a total wreck belonged to y/n max let out a scream revealing the pain he felt. in pure chock he went against team orders and drove off to the gravel beside the collision. he unfastened himself, releasing his steering wheel as fast as he could jumping out of the car to run over to y/n. he stopped a couple of meters away from the medical team that was already there trying to get y/n safely out of her smashed car. in all of his years in formula one he had never seen anything like this crash and max felt his body freeze seeing y/n’s lifeless body being carried over to the ambulance. he was so chocked from everything that had happened during the last couple of minutes that he couldn’t move or speak, he just kept staring at the ambulance’s door getting shut before driving away. 
after a while max felt a gentle tap on his shoulder and somehow got the strength to turn around and walk over to the safety car which was there picking him up. after this his body just moved on autopilot, in a blur he finished interviews and podium celebration with his thoughts in a completely different place. 
__
y/n had been moved from the medical center to the nearby hospital where max now was sitting in the waiting room. he had gotten the news of y/n being in critical condition but also that with the right treatments she would be fine after some rehabilitation. this had calmed his mind a bit but all he wanted to do now was to meet her. 
a nurse approached max as he was sitting with his head in his hands ”are you family of y/n?”. 
”yes! or something like that.. a friend.. or boyfriend..” max hesitantly answered.
”well either way, my bad f1 skills tell me you are max verstappen and y/n has been saying your name since she woke up so i think it’s time you can go and see her. just try to stay calm, she’s in a fragile state and cannot handle any extra stress now” the nurse informed max while he nodded understandingly. 
the nurse pointed to the room y/n was in and max approached the door and slowly opened it. inside the room he saw the girl peacefully sleeping with monitors silently beeping around her. her hair was messy and you could still see strands of hair with blood on them. the whole scene was a bit too much for max to handle and he couldn’t help his tears from falling looking at the girl he loved most in such a state. 
y/n’s eyes fluttered open trying to adjust to the bright light in the room. the first thing she saw was max at the end of the bed looking at her with tears in his eyes. 
”am i dead or am i seeing max verstappen crying for the first time?” y/n tiredly smiled. max smiled and chuckled while drying his tears ”shh don’t tell anyone”. 
”…but seriously y/n/n i’ve never been so scared in my whole life seeing you in that crash. i thought i-” max cried ”i- thought i’d lost you forever. and there was so much that i hadn’t told you and everyth-” y/n interrupted max’s intense crying to tell him to come and lay down with her. sobbingly he lied down feeling y/n clinging onto his body. the pair held each other tightly, wiping away the falling tears before falling asleep in the hospital bed. without any further words exchanging they both knew that the feelings they shared wasn’t only on a friend level, it was something much more.
__
hours later max was getting a drive back to the paddock for some debriefing before heading back to the hospital. at this point his chock had settled and on the drive over it had instead turned into anger against the one who caused the collision, y/n’s teammate. he couldn’t stop thinking about how that mans stupid thinking almost turned into the death of one of his favourite persons. the audacity that alpine driver had to make such a bad mistake, if it even was a mistake. taking out y/n would mean replacing her spot in the spotlight. with all these thoughts running around in max’s mind he only got angrier and angrier until he reached the paddock. 
once the car stopped, max firmly opened the passenger door and headed out, walking with a certain location in mind, the alpine quarters. his assistant tried getting his attention as the whole team was waiting for him in the red bull meeting room but he just ignored this as he was determined to make some justice for y/n. 
he stormed in to the alpine area angrily asking for y/n’s teammate. after a few directions he saw the man he was looking for. at a distance the two men got eye contact, max’s eyes being pitch black of fury while the other mans eyes widened as max rapidly moved towards him. 
all the staff around them paused what they were doing seeing that there was no way of preventing max from the target he had set eyes on. as max was approaching y/n’s teammate the alpine driver tried explaining himself, acting like a victim in the situation but max had heard enough of the bullshit. he had had enough with y/n holding back her tears during every race weekend because of her teammates bullying. this was it.
without a word max answered the drivers explanations with a firm push in the chest causing him to back off a bit, putting his hands up in the air as surrendering. but max wasn’t done. the red bull driver harshly grabbed the alpine drivers collar shoving him up to the wall behind him. he was met with terrified eyes at the unexpected move. max’s face moved close to the other mans giving him a look that could’ve killed. 
”if you ever talk bad about y/n or even look at her in a bad way, i swear to god there will be a bodybag and not an ambulance waiting for you at the next race” max threatened. the man before him nodded eagerly ”i swear, i swear, it will never hap-” in a moment he was harshly put down. max turned around and calmly walked away from the scared man hoping this would prevent y/n from breaking down every weekend. the surrounding people were in chock of what they’d witnessed and before max left he made sure that the other staff at alpine would prevent anything from happening y/n ever again. 
__
back at the hospital a nurse had recently visited y/n’s room giving her some medicine for the night. max and y/n were lying in bed next to each other talking about everything and anything, max noticing y/n slowly falling asleep in his arms. he looked at the girl who looked so at peace even though everything she had been through this day. he slightly readjusted his position when he heard a painful groan from y/n. he was quick to try and jump off the bed to let the injured girl sleep in a comfortable position but this only caused y/n to groan even more, not wanting to sleep without him. 
”okay, but promise me you tell me if i’m hurting you even the slightest. i don’t want to cause you any more pain” max said with a concerned voice.
”i promise max, i just want you here” y/n answered as she found a somewhat comfortable position clinging onto his body. she couldn’t escape the pain her body was causing her but the feeling of max’s warm body against hers and his hands carefully stroking her hair numbed the pain she was feeling. even though her physical body was in the worst condition it had ever been, she wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else than in this man’s arms. she could finally find some peace now and fall asleep. 
”i love you” 
y/n was almost asleep when hearing the words max expressed. she felt a butterfly in her otherwise sore stomach and smiled. was she high on morphine or did she really just hear that? she tilted her head upwards scaring max a bit as he was sure she was deep asleep. 
”i love you too max” y/n said as the pair smiled brightly at each other. 
without hesitation y/n leaned in and crashed her lips against max’s, sharing a sweet and longed for kiss together. max removing his hand from y/n’s hair to instead cup her cheeks deepening the kiss. ’ouch’ y/n complained making max to quickly removing his body from hers not wanting to cause any pain. ’it’s okay, sorry i scared you, i have a bruised bone there’ she explained. ’oh i’m so sorry i didn’t mean to-’ max said concerned but y/n waved it away interrupting his talking with another kiss. max smiled and returned the kiss.
soon after they were lying next to each other again, both filled with love ready to fall asleep after the longest day in history. a weight had been dropped from both of their shoulders after finally revealing their feelings to each other and no one could be happier. as y/n fell asleep max looked at her for the last time before falling asleep too, he felt peace knowing that the girl in his arms was finally safe now, and would always be. he was never letting anyone hurt his girl again. 
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helluvapoison · 2 months
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Save Me
Lucifer Morningstar x Reader
warning: violence n blood but happy ending
“Summon your blue blood master, whore.”
The demon carelessly drops your phone into the cage and it lands at your knees. You don’t remember if this was a ransom or a hit on your beloved. You can’t bring yourself to care because you know the minute he sees you in this state, none of it will matter.
Your tongue darted out and swiped over your cracked lips, gathering the copper taste of your own blood. The chuckle that you let out is dry, cut short by a cough that worsens the state of your throat. It highlighted the bruises littering your skin, especially those you couldn’t see.
He would.
“This is gonna end real badly f’you.” You tell the demon hoarsely, offering them the biggest, meanest smile you could muster.
Your thumb hits the call button without hesitation.
You hadn’t even uttered a single word.
Immediately the energy in the warehouse shifts. An undeniable chill crept in suddenly and seemed to chase off any light the windows provided. Someone may as well have thrown a blanket over the building. If not for your phone providing a faint glow, you wouldn’t have been able to see your labored breaths leaving your lips. Simultaneously, the shitty bones of the warehouse trembled, quietly at first then ramping up to a deafening sound that surely meant it would collapse at any moment. It wouldn’t. Not while you were there. Even if it was only your body for him to collect, no damage would come unto you by his doing.
The demon’s eyes narrow in suspicion, like whatever was happening was your fault and yours alone. Your crooked smile widens into a malicious forewarning for what’s to come. The grin pulls and tears the cut on your lip that had only just stitched itself together, stinging you in retaliation. You’re certain the light illuminating you from below, combined with the blood, has you looking positively mad.
“Told you.”
Lucifer was more than a king; he was the judge, jury and executioner for his subjects. It wasn’t often they forgot it but should they do something drastic, such as stealing his beloved, then he would make an example out of as many souls necessary. You knew this and you knew it well— you’ve been around every century or so when the newer sinners needed a refresher. This just so happened to be your first time being directly involved in why.
It must be then that the harrowing realization finally sets in. They’ve bit off more than they could swallow and now it was going to choke the life out of them. Or, more accurately, he would.
Apparently determined to get in what would surely be their final reprisal, they reached into the cage and yanked you forward by your neck. Your forehead quickly meets an icy bar, sending pain ringing through your skull in greeting. Trapped, a mangled cry rips through the room that you don’t recognize is your own. You writhe in the demon’s grip, struggling to claw at their wrists and face. Tearing at their skin, trying to make them even in wounds more than you’re trying to escape, you manage a particularly good swipe at their eyes that makes them reel back. In their stubbornness, they refuse to release you and your face is squished against the cage as they stumble and crash.
No, you realize. They were flung clear across the room like an unwanted doll, landing in, what was now, a pile of wood. Familiar eyes of ruby and gold steal your attention from the groaning demon. You blink furiously, forcing your vision to tell you true. Of course you knew he would come for you, that was never in question, but whether you would be alive or not for that rescue did cross your mind. Your body had already begun to relax, melting with the comforting warmth of your beloved’s presence. Lucifer’s gasp is rigid, his voice trembling in disbelief and rising fury but he manages a soft tone just for your sake.
“Oh, angel. My sweet, sweet dove. I’m here now, I’m here. I’m so sorry.”
Metal creaks under his palms but it takes less effort than opening a jar of marmalade. He’s obscenely gentle while plucking you out of the cage, acutely aware of the way your breath hitches at his touch. Those aforementioned bruises pulse with vigor, spreading a dull ache all over your body. Just as you suspected, Lucifer's eyes roamed all over counting each and every one. He’ll return the favor tenfold.
One minute Lucifer’s holding onto a fraying thread of mercy, studying your precious face and stealing the apple of your cheek. The next he feels tears slide under the pad of his thumb, swiping them into nothingness like he wished he could do your pain. Your relief is palpable in them, he can taste it on his tongue with hints of your fading fear. His golden pupils get smaller and smaller until they’re consumed entirely by red.
Logically he knows you’re right there in his arms but your weight isn’t grounding enough for him. He can’t see you anymore. All he can see is the ugly blotches that some pitiful excuse for future kindling dared to taint you with. Clearly they knew who you were and how important you were to the King of Hell, so the consequences of taking and hurting you had been glossed over but accepted nonetheless. An act against you is no less treasonous than an act against Lucifer himself; to spit at your feet would be to do the same to him.
“You’ve got guts to pull off a stunt like that, huh?” A terrifying grin cracks unevenly across his face and is shot over his shoulder at the demon that was struggling to pick themselves up. “Let’s see ‘em.”
You squeeze your eyes shut and shield your face from a gust of wind. Upon opening them you realize you’re sitting on the ground alone. Lucifer unfurled his wings and launched himself over to the demon. They made it to their feet only to be launched into the wall and leaving a them-sized crater behind. Horrified and paralyzed you could only watch as Lucifer hovered over them, cocking back both fists and hurling them forward one at a time.
“I think there was one there, there— oh can’t forget here!”
Even while knowing what was to come, it still made your stomach lurch to see it firsthand. Teeth clattered to the ground in one punch, another and the demon’s eye was swollen shut. You were positive what Lucifer blocked with his body, the savagery you couldn’t see, was much worse. It shouldn’t bother you, not with how long you’ve lived down here but having blood on your hands, no matter how indirectly, made your stomach lurch.
“Luci—“ You croaked, your throat closing in on itself when you tried to speak. It was as if your body had sided with your beloved’s vengeance.
However the tiny sound managed to put a stutter in Lucifer’s next blow, his knuckles halting just before the demon’s face. A frustrated snarl rips from him and cracks through the silence like thunder, but the storm in him quiets before he turns to you. Wracked by guilt more than rage, your beloved can’t fully face you.
You try again, “Can we—“ only to be cut off by a cough.
“Stop—stopstopstop,” Lucifer whispers, voice getting closer, louder, “I’m here, I’m here. Don’t… don’t hurt yourself.”
True to his word, he’s right there. All it took was a blink and he’s kneeling before you, hovering his hands all over as if he’s not sure where to touch you. How can he comfort you when you’re bruised all over? You force yourself to continue, knowing he’ll keep his focus with you if you do.
“Jus’ wanna go home.”
Lucifer’s demonic features flare, hesitation on the tip of his tongue. Unfinished business never seemed like an issue before. With the bewildered look he gave you, you may as well have asked him to throw out his entire duck collection. The thought of using your voice again made your throat itch so you beseech him with your eyes, pinching your brows together and turning them up.
Scrunching his face once more he sighed heavily, seemingly defeated as his horns shrunk back into his skull and his tail retreated. Then your Lucifer returned to you at last, smiling softly, though guilt and regret swam in his crimson eyes.
“Home it is. Agh, I hate when you use your secret weapon against me. It’s not fair, I mean, how am I supposed to resist this face?”
You try to keep your own smile from spreading too far, opting instead to squeeze the man close to you to share in your joy. Lucifer was starving to do the same, holding you as close as he could without stressing your wounds. You could feel him inhale against your neck like you were air to him, filling him with relief and the ability to carry on.
When he pulled away you grew worried, especially when his smile dropped and he turned ever so slightly to the bloodied and battered demon.
“Congratulations, peasant, you’ve been pardoned. Courtesy of the King of Hell and his angel— who you will never ever even think of again. Right?” There was a pained groan from the demon that sent a dark chuckle bubbling up from Lucifer’s chest, “I thought you might agree. Do me a favor and spread the word? I’d rather not do this again. You know what I mean?”
There was a sharp edge to his grin for a moment too long but it faded by the time he eagerly returned his attention to you. The portal below whirred to life with a faint hum and sent pulses of warmth up into the air. You were completely and utterly wrapped up in your beloved that you hardly noticed. Lucifer mumbled into your hair how he would kiss your “boo-boos”, get you bandaged up and in pajamas in no time.
Hearing that, it was a liiittle hard to believe he was the same man that was seconds away from slaughtering someone for you.
~
╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ thanks for voting everyone!
746 notes · View notes
thecreelhouse · 1 month
Text
handle with care
Paring: Steve Harrington x Reader
Summary: Eddie and Robin think Steve needs to get out more, but he ends up in what he believes to be the wrong place at the wrong time, until he meets you. (meet cute/ugly au!!)
WC: 2.7k
CW/Tags: language, alcohol, mentions of injuries/blood, teeth mention, super brief suggestive moment, but the rest is awkward yet sweet fluff, reader is GN except for one gendered term at the end I couldn’t work around (apologies!!)
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A/N: 10 years ago I broke my tooth on some poor dude’s head while stage diving, so here’s a fic inspired by that LMAO. I didn’t realize how similar some of it is to an old fic I wrote in 2020 until I finished writing this, but the overall idea is different enough to still post imo. this is silly and I don’t expect anyone to read it but if you do, thanks and enjoy! <3
“Oh. Oh, dude… that looks rough.”
Steve’s stumbling out of the small yet packed crowd, holding his head while blood drips down his face. He looks miserable, to say the least.
“Last fucking time I let either of you drag me out to some shit like this.”
“Whoa, hey, man, it’s your fault for not knowing pit etiquette,” Eddie snarks back, still handing a napkin over to Steve.
As soon as it’s in his hand, Steve recoils and throws the napkin back at Eddie. “Why is this wet?”
“Found it on the bar—“
“Jesus Christ.”
Robin rolls her eyes, handing Steve a clean, dry napkin for the blood. “The hell happened?”
“Some fucking idiot decided to stage dive onto me, and something hard stabbed my forehead.”
Robin stifles a laugh, but Eddie doesn’t bother hiding his snicker. “Dude, I warned you about crowdsurfing, pits, and stage diving.”
“What happened to just… enjoying music with your ears?”
Eddie quips back, “There’s absolutely no fun in that, Harrington.” 
Steve drops into the barstool next to Robin, holding his head with a groan. She moves his hands away from the source of blood. “Let me see— oh, shit.”
“What? What happened? Is it bad?” Steve panics, but as he looks up, he sees Robin looking over his shoulder down the bar. Eddie follows her gaze, eyes narrowing at someone asking the bartender something, ending up with a glass of water.
“Think I found your idiot.”
Steve turns around, but too quickly, hit with dizziness instantly. “God, I’m never leaving the house without a fucking helmet ever again.”
“Hey, hey—“ Eddie calls out to you while you’re walking by the trio, rubbing your finger along the new, jagged edge of your tooth, lost in your thoughts. You spit into the closest trash can, blood tinged saliva finally off your tongue before taking a sip of water. Eddie’s hand lands on your shoulder, spinning you around. “Dude, what’s your problem?”
Your brows scrunch together as you shrug his hand off of you. “What’s yours?”
“Is— did you break your tooth?” Robin can’t help asking as you run your thumb along the sharpness of your now damaged front tooth. 
You yell over the music, “Yeah, some fucking moron wasn’t moving with the crowd, and chipped my tooth! I think I hit their head while stage diving. Who the fuck comes to these shows to just stand there?”
Robin and Eddie both glance at each other before bursting into a fit of giggles.
“What? What’s so fu—“ You glance between the two of them, then notice Steve, cradling his head in his hands as he holds a napkin to the wound; your face drops in a cruel mix of embarrassment and guilt. “Oh. Oh my god— fuck, dude, I-  I’m so sorry.” 
“Yeah, no, it’s fine, it’s not like I haven’t had enough concussions in my lifetime, or anything.” Steve groans, side eyeing you. He’s about to give you more sass, only to become distracted with your face. You’re so … pretty. He was expecting some annoying, ‘tough guy’ to be the culprit, not someone cute like you. “I— it’s cool, what’s one more, right?”
Robin has to hold back her laughter at Steve’s attempt of a save, spinning around on the barstool as she tries hiding her face in her drink. She only ends up laughing, dribbling onto her shirt.
“Great job, Buckley, can’t take you anywhere either.”
Robin ignores Steve’s remark after the first few notes of another song begins, “Oh, wait! Hold on, hold—” She downs her drink before yelling, “I loooooove this song!” Looking over at you, she asks, “You two should be fine, right? Great!” She hops off the barstool before dragging Eddie into the crowd with her.
Immediately you take her seat, gently pushing Steve’s hair away from his face. “C’mon, lemme see the damage— oh no.”
Steve groans, lifting his head with his eyes screwed shut from the pain. “If I hear one more ominous “oh” I’m gonna lose it.”
His comment is shrugged off, “Probably should properly introduce myself, since, y’know, my tooth decided to meet your head first.” Your joke pops his eyes open, laughing for a moment until it worsens his pain with a cringe. “Ah— shit, sorry!” You shoot him an apologetic glance before offering your name.
Glancing up at you, getting a better view of your features, he stumbles over what should just be a simple response. “St- Ste— my name? It’s Steve.”
You bite your bottom lip to hold back a giggle before continuing, “Steve, I got bad news for ya’.”
“What now?”
Taking over on blotting the wound, you move his hand away softly as your own adds pressure to stop the bleeding. He blushes under your touch, welcoming and soft in contrast to the sharp pain you accidentally left behind first.
“You’re gonna have to wear a bandage on that cute face for awhile.”
Steve laughs at your corny attempt of flirting; like he’s any better.
“Yeah, well…” His eyes meet yours, then fall to your smile. The part of your tooth cracked off isn’t terrible. Noticeable, sure, but somehow you make it work. “I got nothin’ clever to say, but you’re still cute with a broken tooth. Not easy to pull off.”
You roll your eyes playfully with a smile as kind as your touch.
“I’m so sorry me and my tooth happened to dive bomb into your pretty head,” You tease, using your free hand to rummage through your jacket pocket before finding a sealed bandage. “You mind if I see?”
“I mean… your tooth was literally in my head, so I don’t think you have to ask.”
“Okay, sassy pants, hold still.” You carefully remove the now bloody napkin away, noticing the gash is pretty rough, but not worth an ER trip, thankfully. The bleeding’s beginning to slow down.
“What’s the news, doc? Am I gonna make it?”
“Hm… not sure. Might need a drink for that,” You smirk, applying the bandaid to his head. Steve looks a little silly, but still terribly attractive. “Pick your poison, s’on me.”
“Oh, I- I—“ He glances up at you as you lean onto the bar, admiring how your outfit hugs you in all the right places. “S- surprise me?”
You give another smile before catching the bartender’s attention. Steve misses what you order with how hard his head is pounding, loud music no help whatsoever. You murmur a quick thanks before sliding a tip towards the bartender, handing Steve his drink before knocking your glass against his, “To the only idiots in this place.”
There’s cherries in both yours and his, but he has an extra; after taking a sip, his eyes go wide with nostalgia. “Why does this taste familiar?”
“Dirty Shirley!” You exclaim happily, but Steve looks confused. “Like, a Shirley Temple, but grown up! Get it? ‘Cause it’s got the vodka?” You force a laugh at your own bad humor, but the way you poke fun at yourself earns a genuine, soft laugh from Steve as he shakes his head. “Used to be my fave drink as a kid, and now it’s even better.”
“You didn’t get as many cherries as I did,” He points out with the slightest pout while you take a sip. 
“Told ‘em yours needed to be as sweet as you.”
“You’re knocking it outta the park with these corny lines.”
“Yeah? Enough to apologize for being a total asshole and flinging myself on you?”
Steve hums, lips on the edge of his glass, “Might need to try a little harder.” He knows he’s not a lightweight, so it can’t be the alcohol making him feel so airy and bold, it has to be the head injury. He reaches out to your chin, gently pulling on it to lower your bottom lip; you part your lips, catching on immediately as you try playing it cool, ignoring the way your breath hitches.
It’s got to be a weird sight out of context, watching Steve feel along your broken tooth, but it’s kind of on par for how weird this entire situation has been. “S’sharp. Does it hurt?” If this was any other stranger touching your tooth you just broke on their head, you’d be creeped out, but something about Steve’s demeanor shows he means no harm.
“Sore but it ain’t so bad. Got my nose cracked in a pit last year, that was worse.” You shrug while Steve looks at you like you’re insane; his hand pulls back before you become nosy. “So… gonna tell me why your polo wearing ass is in a place like this?”
He nods over to Robin and Eddie, bopping around the crowd. “Those two thought I needed to get out of the house more.”
“Shoulda’ picked something more your speed,” The comment’s lighthearted, but you feel bad instantly; you barely know Steve, you probably should ease up on the teasing.  “M’sorry again, like, for real. I got way too excited to stage dive for the first time, and it’s definitely my last.”
“Nah, you’re right, I stick out like a sore thumb in a place like this.”
“What? In a dive bar balls deep in the DIY scene? The whole point of subcultures in music like this is giving everyone a place to feel welcome, even if they’re cute dorks that don’t move with the crowd.” You catch yourself before rambling away about something you’re so passionate about. “If there’s ever a show you wanna go to and need someone to hang with, I’m always down for shit like this. Even if it’s something more your speed, just lemme know.”
Steve finds himself smiling over your offer, curiosity getting the best of him, “Why do you like all of this—” He gestures lazily around the club “—so much?”
You down the rest of your drink, “It’s a second home to me— and that sounds bizarre, I’m sure, ‘cause, like… how the hell do you feel at home in a room full of strangers? But I feel safer losing myself to the music with people who get it.” You pull a cherry out of the glass, popping it into your mouth with a pluck of the stem. “Whether I’m by myself or with friends, it beats being home home, I guess. Either way, I don’t feel so alone here.”
Steve watches you fidget with the cherry stem, mentally kicking himself for asking something so personal. “I- I’m sorry, I shouldn’t— that’s—“ He collects his thoughts for a moment, “I’m sorry if that put you on the spot to answer so… uh—“
“Keep your apology, Steve, you did nothing wrong. My bad for over sharing, I tend to do that… a lot.”
He shakes his head, “Hey, don’t— you keep your apology, too.” He’s not sure when his hand reached for your arm, softly squeezing it in a supportive gesture, but you don’t seem to mind. He laughs humorlessly, “Jesus, are you bad with that too? I feel like I’m apologizing all the time for just—“
“Just existing?”
“Yes!” He’s a little too excited to relate to someone with a personal struggle, but you don’t mind.
You lift his hand off of your arm, and for a moment he worries he was too forward, but you gently hold his hand in yours, pressing your palm against his. The two of you splay your fingers out, pressed up against one another.
“Don’t know why you’re scared of being in a pit with hands like this. Y’could totally take on jerks like me who get carried away.” Your comment isn’t meant to be anything more than harmless and playful, but once the words leave your lips, you curse yourself internally for how they’re phrased.
Steve’s brow quirks, and your mouth opens, about to apologize, but he beats you to it. “Can’t tell if that was supposed to be another corny pickup line or not.”
“… Maybe it is.” You smirk, but anxiously add, “Unless it’s— it doesn’t— not unless—“
“Unless I want it to be?” He finishes for you, intertwining his fingers with yours. “‘Cause I do.”
You beam with a nod, “So… you wanna hang out again? Like, for real, not this whole tooth in your head mess.”
Steve finally shoots a smooth response, “Can’t do that unless I have your number, y’know.”
“Oh— oh, duh, oh my god.” You lean over the bar, asking the bartender for a pen and paper, but he only has a pen; there’s probably something cliche in the way you’re writing your number on a bar napkin, when just minutes earlier, you used them to halt the bleeding from Steve’s head.
Scribbling it down, you hand it to Steve, but not before a tiny boost of confidence pushes you to add, “Might need your number too, in case one of your friends decides to use that napkin.” He side eyes you with a hint of a smile, writing and exchanging his number with you, too.
Neither of you notice Robin and Eddie across the room, yell-whispering to one another over the music as they gossip over the two of you.
“You saw that too, right? They did the hand thing, the hand thing!” Robin happily shouts, and Eddie chuckles with a shake of his head.
“Yeah, they’re definitely gonna fuck.” Eddie snickers and Robin jokingly smacks his shoulder.
“Bet they’re gonna be endgame.”
“Sure fuckin’ hope so, it’d be one hell of a story.”
Omitting anything inappropriate, especially the last part— told to you teasingly a month into dating Steve— you finish retelling the night you and Steve met.
“That’s how you met Daddy?” The twins’ reactions starkly contrast one another’s, as usual; your daughter is horrified, while your son is thrilled to learn this.
“S’so silly!” He falls onto his back from his spot on the floor, holding his tummy as he laughs loudly. 
“Did he glue your tooth back together?” Your daughter asks, blatantly ignoring that Steve has no dentistry experience whatsoever. You hold back your laughter, not wanting to make her feel bad. 
“No, honey, I actually spit it into—“
“— Into their hand, and safely took it to the dentist for him to fix the next day.” Steve rushes in as he walks by the room, overhearing the conversation; he looks to you, eyes wide, mouthing, “what are you doing?”
Your daughter runs to Steve, clinging to him like a koala. He laughs as he lifts her into his arms, watching as her tiny hands push his hair away from his face; he starts going cross eyed trying to follow her movement. 
“Sweetheart, what are you up to?” Steve chuckles as she runs her hand along his forehead, face displaying a state of determination.
“Where is it?”
“Where’s what?”
“Where’s the spot Mommy’s tooth hit your head?”
He glares down at you playfully while his daughter continues searching for a scar. Looking back at his daughter, he answers, “It faded awhile ago, probably from all the forehead kisses Mommy gave me.”
You force a fake cough, “Corny.” At the same time, both of your kids make “blech!” noises.
Before Steve can retort, your son runs to climb into your lap, excitedly asking, “Can you show me how to do that?”
Your brows furrow a bit but you laugh, “Show you how to do what, kiddo?”
“Stage diving!”
Both you and Steve exclaim a firm, “NO.” making your son pout, but only for a moment.
“S’okay, I’ll ask Uncle Eddie instead,” He slips off your lap, marching out of the room; his sister wriggles out of Steve’s grasp, and he takes the hint, setting her down gently. She gives a “hmph!” stomping out after her brother.
Once the coast is clear, the two of you burst into a fit of laughter. 
“Did you ever think us being absolute idiots would lead to all of this?” You find yourself asking Steve between giggles. He pulls you up off the chair and into his arms, kissing the top of your head as he laughs softly. 
“Not at all, but I wouldn’t change a damn thing.”
You push his hair away from his face, finding the very faint scar from that fateful night years ago, pressing a soft kiss to the exact spot, thinking:
What a hell of a story.
450 notes · View notes
fieldofdaisiies · 8 months
Text
Just A Little Bit of Your Heart
ship: Azriel x Reader type: angst word count: 2,4k  warnings: curse words, mentions of a one night stand, unexpected pregnancy summary: It was just a one night stand, or that is what you thought... fic masterlist
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"The baby will have wings!" 
Your hands tremble. And they tremble so much the plate you are holding slips out them, and then shatters when it hits the floor. Splinters fly everywhere, but your best friend is quick to shove you away.
She is faster than you, gently shoving you away before you can lean down to collect the shards. "Not in your current state! Let me do this."
You huff. "I am pregnant, not fragile or ill," you say, still dried tears on your cheeks, and more burning behind your eyes. 
"Yes, with a winged baby, because this fool did not pay attention." There is so much fury inside of your best friend, you have never seen this side of her before, her voice drips with venom. 
"For making a baby it always needs two people. I am not innocent in this." You crouch down and help your best friend collect the shards of broken glass and—
"Fuck!" You lift your index finger to your mouth, licking the droplet of blood away. 
"I told you to let me do this, you are hurting yourself and—" "And what? They baby will still have wings and I will still be pregnant. I just cut my finger, nothing dramatic."
You swallow thickly, slumping onto the ground. You immediately regret your tone and snapping at your best friend. She only wants to help and be there for you…
But it is so much to deal with and then the hormones just intensify everything you are feeling.
The fear, the apprehension about the baby having with wings and the prospect of having to raise the child by yourself, should you survive the birth, finally reach the surface. You tried hide these emotion for so long, but now you fail — they all bubble up, overwhelming you.
You lean against the kitchen counter behind you, pulling your knees up and fold your hands over your face.
Then the damn breaks, tears running out of your eyes, rolling down your cheeks as you sob into your hands. 
"I am so scared," you bawl. 
Your best friend has already scooted over, careful of the broken pieces of porcelain, and wraps her arm around your shoulders. She pulls you to her chest, letting you cry into her shirt. "I know that the babe has wings, the healer confirmed it. And I am just working in this little shop, I don't earn enough to take care of the child alone."
Your tears wet her shirt, and your best friend holds you tightly, her hand clasping your upper arm. She is becoming your anchor, the only thing you can hold onto in this moment.
"It was so foolish. He said he took the tonic. I also drank the tea the same morning, and neither of those things worked. Conceiving for fae is so difficult, why…"
Your voice breaks and you can't finish your sentence, your throat is dry, burns and the back of your mouth aches. 
"It wasn't foolish. You were both careful, and it just happened." Your best friend's voice is softer now, although inside of her a burning fire of fury about the shadowsinger putting a baby that could harm you inside of you. It could cost you your life and she would never forgive him for that.
You exhale a long breath when you lift your head a little, still leaning onto your friend. You rest your head against her shoulder, staring at the window opposite you. 
A veil of grey is being drawn over the sky, dark clouds passing by — rain is about to start. You keep staring at the window, sitting in silence as the first raindrops start to fall, landing gently on the window pane. You watch as the rain intensifies, and the sky darkens further until heavy rain pours down and wind whips agains the windows and the walls of the apartment building you are living in. 
The atmosphere outside mirrors the whirlwind inside of you, the storm brewing there, the cold and gloomx atmosphere.
There are so many emotions. And these emotions, mostly fear and nervousness, mingle with the hormones that actually make you so very happy that your are growing a little babe inside of you, but at the dame time so sad that the child will have to grow up without a father.
The whole previous evening you spent staring at your round belly in the mirror, sobbing silently to yourself.
With the big wool sweaters you always wear the belly is barely visible, but when naked, one can obviously see the growing bump. 
You best friend draws in a deep inhale and leans her head against the top of yours. 
"You need to talk to him," she says in a soft voice. "And before you protest, I say so because first of all, he has a right to know. And secondly, and most importantly, he might be able to help you."
You sniff loudly. "How should he help me?"
"The High Lord, who he is close with, has a son with wings. And our High Lady is also only fae, so there must be a possibility."
"What if he wants nothing to do with me?"
"Then you at least tried."
"Don't you think I will only be hurt more?"
You lift your head to look at her. There is a small smile on her lips, one that conveys support and warmth, her eyes shining with empathy.
She shakes her head. "You still have me. I won't leave you alone with this. I never would. But you still have to tell him."
You don't want to do it, you don't want to face Azriel, don't want to tell him, but you know she is right. You have to do it. He has a right to know.
This was a one night stand. 
You somehow caught the male's attention in a small bar in Velaris, and somehow he ended up in your bed. When you woke up, Azriel slipped into his trousers and out of your flat within a few moments. He was gone without a word, disappeared into the shadows, and you haven't heard from him since. You don't even know how to contact him. 
You don't know where he lives? Does he live with the High Lord? Or in this huge house on the mountain? With the general of the Illyrian armies and his mate?
"I don't know what to say to him," you whisper. 
The rain outside intensifies. Your friend uncurls her arm from around your shoulder, bringing it forward so she can clasp your hand in hers. 
She places a soft kiss to the top of your head and in a calm voice she says, "Tell him what you told me. That you don't understand how it happened and that you are afraid and want nothing more than his help."
"What if I want more than that?" You bite back a sob and turn your head a little.
"What if I want a little part of his heart. For the baby. If it—if we survive this, I want my baby to have a father. I want my baby to know its father." A single tear slips our of your eye and your friend quickly wipes it away with her thumb. 
"That is something to think about in the future. You need to think about yourself now, sweetie. You matter now, everything else is open for the future."
You nod, trying to agree with her, but the thoughts about the possibility of the baby never meeting its father are gnawing on you. 
And they keep gnawing on you the whole night where you lie awake, shifting and turning, your back aching, and tears still wetting your cheeks and pillow. 
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
Cold sweat coats your back, your palms. Your knees wobble, and your whole body trembles as you lift your hand, drawing in a deep inhale. Then another. And another. Your hand rests on the cool door handle, but you can't bring yourself to pull it down. 
He really came.
You can hardly believe it. He got your letter, and he is truly here. Until a few moments ago, you doubted it. You did not think he would really follow your invite. You were very vague in your letter, only mentioned that if he remembers you you would have something important to discuss with him. It could have been a trap, but he must have recognised the urgency in your wording, must habe known he could trust you.
Drawing in another breath, you finally pull down the handle and your lips part as your eyes land on him. 
He is…still the most beautiful male you have ever seen in your life, covered in darkness and shadows, expression stoic, eyes glowing with curiosity.
But he came!
"You came," you whisper, voice trembling.
Your heart beats in your throat, hammering so fast and hard you think it might burst right through your ribcage. 
It was just a one-night stand, a fleeting moment of passion, but you still remember him so vividly. How he touched you, how he kissed you, how he held you. And how he left. You felt used and sad after it, but you shouldn't have. Both of you only wanted fun for a night, but still it somehow hurt when he left.
"You called." His voice is flat, no emotion in it as he speaks. His face is not necessarily cold, but nonchalant, emotionless.
Azriel is nothing but darkness as he stands there, shadows swirling around him, stretching out towards you.
He eyes you closely, jaw clenched slightly.
You barely know him, only know his body, but he is now connected to you in the most profound way possible. You carry a part of him inside of you. Your child. His child. 
Azriel's face is a mask of unreadable emotions, some clouds darken his eyes and you can’t tear your eyes away from his.
"I wasn't sure you if you—" "I do remember you."
Something, some unreadable emotion passes over his face, and a muscle in his jaw ticks. His hands, those scarred hands you felt all over your body, are folded behind his back, and he stands in a stance, almost like he is ready to fight whatever is about to come. A stern warrior, and not the passionate male you lay with. 
"Come in?" you say, your voice trembling slightly as you step aside to let him enter. Azriel hesitates, but eventually he walks in, gaze wary as it sweeps through the inside of your room. He is looking for possible danger, making sure the place is safe and you can't blame him for it. Your invite must have sound cryptic, he is careful and that is alright. 
"Why did you invite me?" Azriel asks, finally speaking up and taking the weight from your shoulder to open the conversation. 
You are wringing for the right words to explain it all as you lead him over to the kitchen counter. You lean against it, your gaze moving to his eyes.
You drop your glamour, and try to hold his gaze, but suddenly Azriel starts to sniff the air, his brows furrowing as he looks around him. It almost looks like understanding dawns on him, whirlwinds of emotions glowing in his eyes. He must sense it in this moment.
"I am with child!" you blurt out. 
The words are so loud in the room, they bounce off the walls and hollow through the room. Through your mind, making you feel dizzy for a second. 
You move your hand over your round belly, smoothing out the sweater, to show him the bump. 
 The silence that follows is deafening, broken only by the sound of your own ragged breaths. 
Azriel says nothing, his face pales, his shoulders slump, and his whole expression and posture crumbles. 
He blinks, as if trying to process what you have just revealed. Although his face is unreadable, you can see the storm of emotions swirling beneath the surface. 
"Is it mine?" he asks and you want to face-palm him. You would do it, if it were under different circumstances. 
"Of course, it is yours. The babe has wings!"
The tone you have chosen wasn't alright, he could not have known, you could have been with other males…but why would you invite him and tell him then?
This revelation shatters him truly. Azriel begins to vehemently shake his head, like he can feel the weight of what the baby having wings means.
"No," he whispers, and then repeats the word over and over again. He brings a hand up, brushes his hair back and shakes his head again. "No, that can't be. You took the tonic, I did too. How did that happen?"
"I also don't have an explanation, I only know that I am with child now. A baby with wings." Your chin quivers, lower lip starting to tremble. You feel how your body begins to shake, blood rushing in your ears.
"And I am afraid." 
Once again the damn breaks, and a sob rips itself free.
Azriel says nothing, just stands there. 
"I understand that it is a lot to take in, that this is difficult, but I needed to tell you." 
You suck in a sharp breath, your tears tasting salty in your mouth. "I just thought you deserved to know. It was a one-night stand, and I never planned for any of this to happen, but it did, and I can't keep it a secret from you." 
You feel so vulnerable in this moment, your heart cracking open, everything inside you convulsing. 
It somehow angers you that he says nothing, but you had more time to deal with the newly learned information, he only found out now. Maybe he just needs more time to process. 
"I don't know what to say," he admits, his voice softer, and for the first time he lets his own emotions show, vulnerability flashing brightly in his eyes. "This is... unexpected. Overwhelming."
You nod, biting down on your lower lip. With the back of your hand you wipe away some tears. 
"I don't expect anything from you, I just…if the baby and I survive this, all I am asking for is a little bit of your heart. Not for me, for the babe."
Your voice is so terribly shaky, tears welling up in your eyes again as you try to hold his gaze. "I didn't expect it either," you whisper, wiping away a tear. "But I want the baby to know its father. If it ever comes to that."
Azriel is the one to suck in a breath now, the weight of his own childhood crashing down on him. Everything, every little pain when he was a child, bubbles up inside of him and his body starts to shake. 
The room is filled with a heavy silence once more. It feels like the walls are moving in on you, the room growing smaller and smaller, almost suffocating you.
As you wait for his response, your heart still races, but now it's not just with fear. There's a glimmer of hope, a spark of possibility that maybe, just maybe, he will grant you this wish and be a father for the child if it comes to that. 
"We are going to see my healer, the High Lord's healer. She knows about wings, she knows about babes with wings. You are not alone in this."
Azriel's steps are so fast, so unexpected, he hesitates for a moment, but suddenly his arms wrap around your shoulders and he embraces you tightly, his chin coming to a rest on top of your head. 
"I am not leaving you alone in this. It comes as a shock and I am sorry about my reaction, but this child is as much mine as it is yours, and it will have a part of my heart." His arm wraps around you tighter. "It will have my whole heart." 
He swallows, his chest heaving with a deep inhale and your curl your own arms around him, loud sobs ripping themselves free, muffled in the fabric of his shirt. "And so will you."
~~~~~~~~~~ tags (crossed-out I couldn't tag) : @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii@nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbabyg @aroseinvelaris @moony-thoughts @wrensical003 @cherryjain17 @moonfawnx @crushedcloudsx @devilsfoodcake22  @valeridarkness @azrielscertifiedslut @mulansaucey @cynicalpotato95 @hanasakr @high-bi-andreadytocry @eerievixen @feyretopia @moonlightazriel @randomness-it-is @brekkershadowsinger @eliieee23 @girasoli-e-sorrisi @illyrianvalkyriecarynthian  @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @theworthlessqueen @marina468 @topaz125 @illyrian-dreamer @azriels-mate123 @eos-princess @courtofjurdan @a-frog-with-a-laptop @insufferablebookaddict @callmeblaire
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eufezco · 1 year
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BACK TO YOU — CHISHIYA X FEM!READER
MAJOR AIB SPOILERS !!
SUMMARY — you win the games and wake up in the hospital. remembering everything that happened in the borderlands and not knowing if chishiya made it.
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your mouth was dry and it tasted like blood. your eyes opened slowly, getting used to the bright lights of the hospital room and you hissed when your hand landed on your temples. you had some cuts on your face, covered with gauzes and medical tapes, and some bruises too, especially around your eyes and on your cheekbones.
you looked around the room and you could see your mom's purse next to your bed, but she wasn't in the room. somethings never change, not even when you are at the hospital after having been dead for a few seconds. once you tried to sit on the bed, you felt a stabbing pain in your lower abdomen and then on your forearm. your hand went directly where it hurt in your belly and you realized that you were wearing a bigger gauze there and another of the same size on your arm, and at that moment a wave of memories hit you making you feel dizzy. the beach. the next level. the king of spades. chishiya.
chishiya.
you gasped and forced yourself to remember when was the last time that you saw him. niragi's gun was pointing at you when he suddenly stepped in the middle of your body and the bullet with your name written in it.
"why would you do it?" you asked him with tears in your eyes. chishiya just showed you a smirk. you told him that he needed to resist, that there were only two games left and everything will be over. a little smile remained on chishiya’s lips as he nodded slowly. he knew that by the time you completed the games he wouldn't be there. you wanted to stay by his side but usagi and arisu dragged you out of there when the zeppelin of the king of spades appeared.
the last thing you remember from that day was lying next to kuina and ann on the cold ground. your back hurt and your wounds didn't stop bleeding as you watched the fireworks and listened to what you were being asked. "i decline." you finally answered, with tears in the corners of your eyes.
you got up from the hospital bed and noticed that you were sharing a room with someone else. that someone in the room with you was separated from your side with a curtain. with small steps and with a hand on your belly, right where your wound was, you approached the curtain, and being extremely careful, you had a quick peek to the other side. you took a sharp breath after you recognized the boy on the other side. his thick brown hair was stuck to his forehead, and just like you, he had some gauzes on his face. he gave a small jump on the bed when he noticed that someone was staring at him from a small opening in the curtain, but his frown relaxed once he recognized you.
"y/n?" he asked, still a bit confused.
"arisu." you removed the curtain completely and his eyes opened wide. he removed the blanket from himself and turned his body to let his legs hang from the bed, ready to get up from the moment he saw you. you were quicker than him and hugged him, maybe a little too hard because you both hissed when your bodies collided. you stayed like that for a few seconds more and then he asked you if you were okay, and how long had been since you woke up.
"a minute?" you asked him. your head hurt. "everything- everything happened in a minute. all the games, all the deaths? in a minute?"
arisu nodded. you gulped. all the things you lived with chishiya happened in sixty seconds. you felt like you could throw up. you shook your head and decided to talk about anything else. "did usagi make it?"
"yes. she was with me when we finished the last game."
you nodded, glad to hear that your friend was alive. "kuina and ann also made it. i think i heard aguni and akane too but i can't remember well."
arisu then understood. you knew that all of your friends made it but not if he did. "i'm sure- i'm sure he's here. i'm sure chishiya got out."
you shook your head with your eyes closed. arisu didn't know that. when the king of spades appeared and him and usagi separated you from chishiya, his white jacket was already soaked in blood. the first bullet hit him in a noncritical area, but the second one, the one that should've got you, went directly into his chest. you didn't need to be a med student to know that that was bad.
"come on. let's go for a walk." arisu got up from the bed and kissed your forehead after noticing how sad your eyes were. you hooked your arm in his. every now and then arisu would stop to check up on you, if you were breathing well, if you were too tired to continue but you assured him every time that you were fine.
you saw aguni in the icu. the doctors that came out of the room were pointing out how that man being alive was practically a medical miracle. akane was on a wheelchair looking at him through the glass. the girl was very pleased to see you both again. she asked about your injuries and she thanked arisu in a subtle way for winning the last game. she didn't know if you were ready to talk openly about what happened. she didn't even know if she was.
you tried to run and arisu had to hold you so you wouldn't fall down the moment that you saw kuina. her face glowed and she had to blink a couple of times to believe her eyes. kuina was kneeling in front of a woman in a wheelchair, a man was standing next to the two of them, and you guessed that they were her parents. she was quick to stand up, her father had to help her to get to you and arisu, and then you hugged her tightly. you were careful though, you saw how bad her injuries were. you remember the king of spades on top of her, stabbing multiple times her stomach, blood coming out of her mouth and you immobile lying on the ground after being shot by him.
"have you seen him? do you know if he made it out?" you held kuina's cheeks. defeated, you let out a sigh after seeing kuina's confused expression. she shook her head to both of your questions. kuina told you that the last time that she saw chishiya was when the king of spades attacked for the first time, and then each of you followed a different path and she never saw him again after that. but when she met arisu again, he said that chishiya was fine.
you slowly turned to look at arisu with raised eyebrows, and the boy just shrugged his shoulders. on second thought, you were sure that arisu didn't do it with bad intentions. you had to explain to her that niragi shot him twice. kuina gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. you told her that the second time niragi was aiming at you but chishiya stood in the middle. that did not come as a surprise to her. she knew him longer than you did. they were already at the beach when you arrived there with arisu and usagi, and as long as she had known him, chishiya had always acted unbothered. he wasn't a big fan of showing affection. he was selfish, arrogant, and really self-centered. but kuina knew that he would take a bullet for you.
she insisted on joining you and arisu on your walk. you three recognized some people who were in the games with you: people from the beach, that kid usagi fought so hard to save, people you tried to kill, and people that tried to kill you.
"excuse me?"
the hospital reception was chaotic, and you barely heard the woman at the other side of the counter humming to your question.
"i'm- i'm looking for someone."
"name?"
you blinked a few times at her sudden question. you played with your fingers nervously. she raised her eyebrows waiting for an answer. "chishiya shuntarō."
you shouldn't have ask. you should have waited for him to find you. what if the woman told you what you didn't want to hear? no. no. no. you should've waited, or had arisu to ask for you. but now you were waiting for that woman to finish typing on the computer and maybe to tell you that he was dea-
"third floor, room 301."
"oh." you said in a sigh. you could feel all your body relaxing, your hands stopped trambling, your legs didn't feel like giving up anymore. but you could also feel your heart beating in your throat, and your chest slowly heaving. the woman raised her eyebrows at you again.
"do you need anything else?"
you gulped, shaking your head softly and coming back to you. "hm?oh. no, thank you."
you turned around and walked towards arisu and kuina, your eyes locked on the floor. your two friends arched their brows worried, by your face both of them expected the worse. kuina could feel that familiar lump that forms in your throat moments before bursting into tears. arisu approached you and his hands gripped your shoulders. your eyes connected with his.
"y/n-"
"he's on the third floor."
arisu sighed in relief. kuina also let out a sigh and she wiped away some tears off her cheeks before you could see her. she approached the woman and asked for an and she told kuina that she was in the operating room, which was also a strong relief.
time passed slowly, and the way to the third floor was the longest you could remember. not when you were walking to the control room with him and kuina, escaping from the militants, not when you were heading to a game, not even when you ran to him after niragi shot him. the elevator was too slow for you.
arisu was checking up on you, kuina was too deep in her thoughts. once the elevator stopped and the doors opened, you gulped and looked at arisu. he nodded for you to be the first one out of the elevator. what you didn't expect was to see chishiya in the middle of the hallway, his body slightly curved and one of his hands pressing his lower abdomen. he was talking to his doctor, probably asking a million questions like why he had put him on that medication instead of the other one, and trying to convince him why the other one was better.
"chishiya."
the boy quickly turned to see who was calling him and his eyes opened wide in surprise. "y/n." chishiya soon forgot about the doctor. one of his arms wrapped around your waist, the other one hugged your upper body, resting his hand on the back of your head and pulling you closer to him. he hid his face into the crook of your neck.
it was weird having him in between your arms in the real world. once you two were completely healed you'd go back to your normal life but you'll have each other. you were going to have to get used to his twenty-four hours shift as a doctor, and he was going to get used to hugs and kisses every day. but now, with his arms wrapped around you and after gone through that much, he thought that he could get used to that easily.
"i knew that you would make it." chishiya said with a small smile on his lips. one of his hands pushed your hair away from your face and tucked it behind your ear. the other one held your chin up trying to see through the gauzes on your face what type of injuries you had.
arisu and kuina were standing behind you. chishiya shared a glance with both of them. arisu was smirking, kuina was biting her nails with tears in her eyes, probably waiting for her turn to greet her friend but not wanting to separate you. you rested your head on his chest, careful to not touch where he was shot. your lower lip trembled, tears started forming in your eyes.
"i thought that you-"
someone talked before chishiya could. "that could never happen, you know what they say, only the good ones die young."
"you bastard." you looked over chishiya's shoulders and tried to move away from him the moment that you saw niragi at the end of the hallway, approaching the group from behind chishiya. he was quick to hold you tighter against him, to prevent you from hurting yourself even more by hitting niragi.
niragi was smiling. even though half of his body was covered with bandages you could see that disgusting smirk on his lips.
"i'm gonna kill you," you stated. niragi laughed at you. you couldn't see it but chishiya smirked, his arms still hugging you and not letting you part from him.
"it's not that big of a deal, honey. he's is alive and i got to shoot him. we both won."
chishiya could stop you but he didn't have enough arms to stop kuina. the girl passed by your side like a fury. arisu tried to grab her arm but she was mad. her fists were already clenched before she was even close to niragi, and arisu called her name in a last attempt of stopping her. niragi looked down at her with a smile on his lips. he knew what was coming. he had seen that face on kuina before.
her fist closed tighter and with all the strength in her body, she punched niragi. his mouth and nose started bleeding right after but he didn't stop laughing. she had her fist ready again but arisu grabbed her waist from behind pulling her away from him.
"better?" chishiya asked after feeling your breathing slowing down. you nodded and you both looked at kuina kicking in the arms of arisu. chishiya raised his brows looking at the doctors coming to assist niragi. "well, he deserved it." you rolled your eyes at him.
"you have to tell me a lot of things, i guess." chishiya said referring to your bruised face. you nodded, he was going to believe everything that happened between the time he was shot until arisu and usagi won the last game.
"i haven't seen banda and yaba."
chishiya smiled at your innocent. "i'm sure that they are fine but i'm also sure that they decided to stay." you already thought about that. you nodded understanding. what a shame because they were nice to you during the jack of hearts game, and they promised you that you'll see each other again. chishiya knew by your face that you didn't listen when he said that banda was a murderer and yaba was a scammer. people like that could only live freely in the borderlands.
not people like you two tho
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crazyinlovewithbucky · 9 months
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"My Girl"
Pairing: (tfatws)Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: Sam took Bucky clubbing one day to ease Bucky's tension and bad temper then Bucky met you and since the moment he laid his eyes on you, he knew that he wanted you to be his girl.
Warnings: flufffffffff, smut, Sam & Bucky being sarcastic, alcohol, alcohol consumption, making out, nudity, dry humping, oral (f receiving), protected/unprotected sex, d in v sex, drunk friend, sergeant kink, Bucky being obsessive, lipstick stains and marks, cum eating, overstimulation, lots of fluff + smut.
This smut was somewhat inspired by the song Girl by The Internet (feat. KAYTRANADA)
AU/N: hey guys, I've been having the worst writer's block and I've been writing this piece for almost 3 months now. My job is taking all of my time and consuming my days that I barely have time to write so this is the reason why this piece might be a little longer (5.9K words) than my previous ones lol. Hope you enjoy it and I'd like to remind you that English isn't my first language so excuse if I misspelled or mispronounced anything.
======================
It was a somewhat normal Friday evening. Sam and Bucky just finished another successful mission in Europe, and they needed time to relax. Sam knew about that great club in New York and begged Bucky to come and blow off some steam. Eventually, Bucky agreed to drink, spend time with his best friend, and maybe see how people nowadays party. They entered the club and headed to the bar right away before the club owner himself came and greeted them and told them he had a private VIP table for them on the east side of the club. The two Avengers thanked him but wanted to have a few drinks at the bar first.
"Gosh, Steve would've hated this," Bucky shouted due to the loud music, feeling a little uncomfortable as he's not used to loud music, not used to people drinking and dancing around wildly like this, and also not used to crowded places like this. Sam laughed at his comment and gave him a glass of whiskey.
"Believe it or not, buddy. I brought Steve and Nat here a couple of times, and they didn't actually hate it. They were uncomfortable at first, yes. But after a few drinks, I kid you not, Steve almost went home with three blondies who promised to show him "how grateful they are for him saving the world" until Nat and I had to actually grab him by his shirt and drag him out of there." Sam chuckled while telling the story, and Bucky almost spat his drink out of his nose, laughing.
"Yeah Yeah. That does sound like Steve." Bucky kept chuckling as he swallowed the rest of his drink. He put the empty glass on the bar and asked the bartender for a refill. His eyes roamed the place, looking at the people on the dance floor, then his eyes landed on you.
You were dancing your heart out and wearing that new short, tight black dress that had no sleeves, feeling kind of tipsy from the three or four drinks you had. Your hair is all messed up from the heat of dancing, which made some of your baby hair stick to your forehead due to sweat. Bucky couldn't keep his eyes off of you; he didn't know why, but for him, you were so attractive, with that tight short dress hugging all of your curves perfectly, your hips and body swaying to the music, and your shiny, beautiful hair swaying and moving with your body too.
He kept staring at you, lost in your beauty until he felt a rough hand hitting his shoulder. "See something you like, Barnes?" Sam raised an eyebrow at him, following Bucky's intense gaze at you. "Go dance with her," Sam chuckled, pointing at you with his glass.
"No fucking way, Sam. I don't dance." Bucky took a deep breath and swallowed the refilled glass in just one sip. He put the glass again on the bar table and motioned for the bartender to refill it again. Somehow all that built-up and buried sexual energy in him started to resurface as he got reminded that the last time he had any sexual interaction with a woman was in the 1940s. He really needed to take it out of his system and ease that sexual tension inside of him. He knew that he had to do that one day or another. Hell, Sam even knew and noticed that too, as Bucky's anger issues and frustrations were getting out of hand and Sam had enough of this attitude. He thought that maybe with a few drinks and a nice night out, Bucky might be less tense. But when a pretty lady gets Bucky's attention and he starts to act all frustrated again, it all clicks for Sam now, as the reason behind Bucky's frustration is just built-up sexual energy. Poor Bucky hasn't gotten laid since the 40s; he must feel like a virgin now, Sam thought.
Bucky kept staring at you and the way your body moved to the music until he saw you moving toward him with one of your friends. You were headed towards the bar while laughing with your friend, and you moved and stood very close to him and shouted the names of some drinks for the bartender. He could smell you. You were sweaty as hell, but for him, you smelt so nice and sugary; your body and hair smelt like a mix of coconut and jasmine, and he loved it so much that his body stiffened and he stood straight, trying his hardest not to look at you and the way you kept scratching your scalp and flipping your hair from the heat you felt from dancing. You took out a scrunchie from your purse and tied your hair up in a messy ponytail, and he almost fell on his knees as he saw drops of sweat running down your neck. You were so hot and beautiful, he thought he'd lose his mind.
Sam was standing on the opposite side of Bucky and you, watching Bucky's reactions with a smirk. "Hey ladies, can we buy you some drinks?" Sam said this to you and your friend, startling you both out of your conversation. Your friend looked at him and Bucky and gasped loudly.
"Oh my god! You're the Avengers!" Your friend screamed, which made you get confused, and you looked carefully at Sam, then turned your head and found very hungry blue eyes looking back at you. Your mouth opened a little at the sight before you. You thought that this was literally the most beautiful and handsome man you'd ever seen in your whole life. You both kept holding that intense eye contact; you didn't realize you were so close to each other until your friend pushed your shoulder to grab your attention, and you almost fell on him. Bucky was quick, and he held you by your waist and helped you stand up straight, never breaking eye contact.
"Are you okay?" He said that as your heart kept beating so hard and loud, you were very nervous, as you had never had that much tension with anyone before—even your friend and Sam sensed it. You nodded your head at Bucky while smiling nervously, then tried to breathe normally as you felt like you were choking out of air. You also felt that strange sensation of tingling between your legs. You couldn't help it; as per lots of previous experiences, you were well aware that alcohol makes you horny. But alcohol plus the hottest man you've ever seen—that was too much for you, and you felt out of breath.
"Y-You don't need to buy us any drinks, we were actually getting those last drinks and leaving afterward," you said nervously to Sam as you held your friend's arm. You smiled with a nod at the bartender when she put the two drinks you ordered in front of you and your friend.
"What? Noooooo, Y/N, I wanna stay," your drunk friend whined. "You can do whatever you want to me, Mr. Falcon." Your friend flirted with Sam and touched his hand and squeezed it while winking at him, which made Sam blush and smirk at her.
"Oh, I think you had enough drinks already." You cringed at your friend, squeezed her shoulders, and pulled her away slowly to leave.
"At least, let us drive you home." Bucky's voice behind you said that, and your breath hitched. You were trying your hardest not to interact with this man because, you swear, you were so close to jumping on him and doing very unholy things to him.
"Y-You don't have to." Your voice was shaky, and you tried to keep your friend steady.
"But we want to. Please." He touched your arm softly, and you got goosebumps all over, feeling hotter, and that tingling feeling between your legs was more unbearable.
"Okay," that's all that you managed to say, as there's nothing on your mind now except for the various positions and ways he could fuck you with. Yes, you were that horny.
Sam got his wallet out and paid for his, Bucky's, and your drinks. You kept holding your friend, afraid she might trip and fall. Meanwhile, Bucky was walking beside you, guiding you to the main exit and shielding you from the crowd. He was very gentle and kind to you, and you just couldn't stop looking at his strong, veiny hands and imagining them wrapped around your neck.
By the time you got outside the club, Bucky had guided you and your almost knocked-out friend to the parking lot, where Sam was already waiting there next to the black SUV. Normally, you wouldn't ever consider going out or taking a ride with strange men you just met at the bar. This is a never-in-a-million-years action from you. But your cautious side left the room when you acknowledged that these are the actual Avengers and they couldn't ever hurt you. And if they did, you're going to make a hundred percent sure to sue their asses afterward. You smiled at yourself at that thought, and that caught Bucky's attention.
"What are you smiling at?" Bucky said to you as he smiled too. Your smile dropped immediately as he caught you off guard, and you felt so embarrassed. Of course, you're not going to tell him you were just thinking about suing him if he did something to you, and that made you smile. What the hell are you? A psycho?
"Ummm, nothing." You smiled awkwardly. "I am just a little drunk." And you awkwardly laughed. 'Gosh, can this get any weirder?' You thought to yourself. 
"Are you okay?" He said this in a concerned tone while opening the doors of the backseat in the car and guiding you and your friend in. You nodded at him with a smile, sat your friend carefully in the backseat, and seated yourself next to her. Bucky got in the passenger seat while Sam started driving and pulling out of the parking spot.
"So, do you ladies have a place, or are we going to drive all night?" Sam said this in a sarcastic tone while opening the Google Maps app on his phone. He gave the phone to Bucky to start typing your addresses in the search bar.
You laughed at Sam's question. "Yeah, but Y/F/N lives closer, so can we drop her off first, Mr. Falcon? Shit. Sorry. I mean Sam." You cringed at yourself for calling Sam Mr. Falcon like your friend did. You don't know if it's because you feel awkward, or the tension between you and Bucky, or the four drinks you had earlier.
Sam and Bucky laughed softly at Sam's new nickname, and that made you feel more awkward, and that made you laugh nervously. Bucky noticed that and said, "That's okay. I call him sometimes "Daddy Falcon," just like those girls on Twitter, just to tease him." 
"Hey man, what the hell? You promised you would not say that again. Why are you telling her, you freaky cyborg?" You laughed so hard at the way they speak to each other and their weird nicknames for each other.
"Wait, What? Cyborg? Is that your actual nickname?" You laughed at Bucky while your friend was napping silently with her head on your lap.
"No, actually Bucky is my nickname," he overstressed the word 'Bucky' while looking at Sam, giving him a death glare, which made you giggle more. "But Sam just loves giving me a hard time."
"What? Man, who's giving who a hard time with that "Daddy Falcon" bullshit? I ain't nobody's daddy." Sam said while focusing on the road. You can't stop giggling at this point.
"Whatever, Sam. I'm sorry, okay? Truce?" Bucky said to Sam, smiling and looking at you from time to time through the rearview mirror.
"Fine," Sam said while still looking at the road ahead and rolling his eyes at Bucky.
"Shit, can I put the location on the map? because I think we're close to her apartment." You snapped out of your laughter and motioned with your hand for Bucky to give you the phone and type in the location. Bucky handed you the phone, and you started typing in your friend's apartment location, which was only five minutes away from your current location. You handed the phone back to Bucky, and he started directing Sam to the location. *
You made sure your friend was comfortable and sleeping well in her bed after you took her shoes off, tucked her under the blanket, turned off the light, and left. Buck and Sam were waiting for you downstairs outside the car. You walked toward them and smiled, saying, "I'm so sorry guys, we've been such a huge burden on you tonight. I really appreciate your help and kindness. Thank you."
They both smiled at you, saying stuff like "Don't mention it", "It's okay," and "We're happy to help." The three of you went into the car again, and Sam started driving to your house. The distance from your friend's apartment to yours was around fifteen minutes, so you started chatting with them and getting to know them better. You learned that they were staying here at the Avengers Tower and that Sam is not from around here usually, but Bucky is from Brooklyn. He kept telling you about his life back then, in the forties, and how he was adjusting to this new world. You and Sam joked a bit about Bucky's age, but he didn't mind it. He actually laughed at some of your jokes.
You were startled by the voice of the GPS lady saying, "You've arrived at your destination," and you felt upset for leaving them too soon. You exchanged numbers with Bucky and Sam and promised them to hang out with them soon and have brunch.
Out of politeness, you invited them over to your apartment for some coffee, and Sam agreed right away, while Bucky was just thinking about it. You were kind of surprised by his immediate agreement, which made you question if they had other intentions towards you. But you brushed these thoughts away when you saw that kind, loving, and gentle look in Bucky's eyes when he looked at you.
As soon as you got out of the car and were guiding them to your building's entrance door, Sam stopped in his tracks and exclaimed loudly, "Oh shit man, I forgot." You and Bucky stopped and looked at him, worried.
"I promised Sarah I'd call her tonight, and I completely forgot. Man, I hate when this happens. She must be worried, thinking something happened to me or else. I've got to go. Sorry, Y/N. It was very nice to meet you. We'll catch up soon, okay?" He gave you a small hug and pulled away. “Sorry, Buck, I've got to head home. You have Uber on your phone, right? Remember, I taught you how to use it." He smirked and winked at Bucky, who was, by the way, giving him the most deadly glare ever as he connected the dots and figured out Sam's plan to leave you and him alone. "You finish that cup of coffee first. I think you need to sober up a little." He gave Bucky a small hug too and whispered something in his ear that you couldn't hear, even though you tried eavesdropping. "Again, Y/N, very nice to meet you. See you later. Bye." He sprinted to his car, went in, and started to drive off.
"Okay, so I think it's just the two of us then." You smiled at Bucky and turned your head away from him to open the building's door with your keys. You guided him inside and went to your apartment, which was on the third floor. You opened the door to your apartment, invited him in, and apologized for the mess, which was not so messy, but you just felt awkward. Especially in the presence of him and the fact that both of you were finally alone in the privacy of your own house, which made the very unholy thoughts about him grow wilder.
You both took off your jackets and sat on the couch. You excused yourself to go make the coffee, but as soon as you stepped into the kitchen, you forgot that you ran out of coffee this morning and that you were supposed to go buy some the next morning. You cursed at yourself and felt so embarrassed. You went back into the living room and found him texting on his phone. Little did you know that he was texting Sam "very uncool" for what Sam did and for that lame excuse to leave you both alone.
When he noticed you were in the living room with empty hands and pouting lips, he asked if everything was okay. "I forgot I ran out of coffee this morning; I'm sorry." You pouted your lips and dropped your shoulders. He smiled at how cute you looked right now. "I have tea if you like." You smiled at him, and his gaze turned so softly toward you.
"Tea would be great. Thanks." He said it, smiling. You hopped on your feet, turned, and went to the kitchen, making tea for you and him. After six or seven minutes, you returned with two hot mugs of tea. You handed him his mug and sat next to him on the couch.
You started chatting and talking about everything and anything. Despite all the talking and chatting, without your awareness, you both started to get closer to each other. It was like your bodies were magnets for each other. The tension thickens, and both of you can't help but stare at each other's lips while talking, drinking tea, or doing anything else. You noticed that he licks his lips before saying anything, and he noticed how you bite your lips when you're concentrating on what he's saying or when you're staring at his lips.
After an hour or so of talking, you noticed that you were so close to him now that you could feel his hot breath on your face and how he was controlling all your senses now, with his hands touching your leg, his musky and minty scent surrounding you, and his blue eyes gazing softly at you. You were snapped back to reality when you became aware that you both hadn't said anything for the past ten minutes, and you even forgot who stopped talking first or who said the last word. You were just staring and looking at each other with very hungry eyes for one another.
"Can I kiss you?" He whispered while looking at your lips with his lustful blue eyes. Your heart skipped a beat at what he said as you became too excited and became more aware of the wetness growing between your legs.
You nodded as you tried your hardest to hide your grin. "Words, Honey. I need to hear you." He said this while looking at your eyes, then moving his gaze to your lips again as he moved his hand up and held your chin up while moving his thumb on your lip, pulling the bottom lip down and freeing it from between your teeth. You didn't notice; you were biting your lips the whole time.
"Yes, please." You whispered, but it came out more as a whine. He smashed his lips against yours. Kissing you passionately and hungrily. He poked and licked your lips with his tongue, asking for permission, which you happily granted him, and you opened your mouth to him so he could devour you more with his kisses and tongue.
You were so lost in the moment and in him, and you kept tugging and pulling his shirt, asking and wanting more. He pushed you down on the couch with his body and laid on top of you, making out with you fiercely. Needing you more than you need him. You started lazily pulling his shirt up while bending and lifting your legs and wrapping them around his waist. You felt his erection poking and rubbing your inner thighs, which made you moan into his mouth.
He pulled away and started taking his shirt off while you were lifting your short dress up to your hips and waist, exposing your black lace underpants. Suddenly, you felt like you were rushing into things, and the situation between you two escalated too quickly. You don't want him to have the wrong idea of you, just as you don't want this to be a one-night stand. You want more. You want him to be yours.
"I-I just want to say that I don't do this at all." You said this while panting from the heat of it all and from that passionate make-out you just had.
"Do what?" He frowned and was confused. He thought you were backing out, and he was just embarrassing himself by taking his shirt off, thinking there could be more to this.
"I don't take guys I meet in the club home and sleep with them; I don't do one-night stands." You helped yourself sit up with your elbows while he was sitting and straddling you.
"I don't do one-night stands either." He smiled at you and cupped your cheeks as he kept moving his thumb on your lips. "I just can't help myself around you and can't help how my body reacts to you. I never had this feeling or attraction to anyone before." He pushed you down and started kissing your exposed neck. "Fuck, you're so beautiful. I've never seen such a beauty like yours before." He looked into your eyes while grinding his hardened length into your clothed core. You moaned slightly, which was an opportunity for him to bury his tongue in your mouth again. 
"Can you be mine for tonight?" He groaned against your mouth while still grinding into you. "Can you be my girl for tonight?" He started leaving wet and sloppy kisses on your neck and collarbone, moving down to your chest.
"Yes, please, Bucky. I'm your girl." You moaned and wrapped your legs around his waist again while your hands kept rubbing and playing with his hair.
You noticed the scars on his left shoulder near his metal arm, and you suddenly remembered who he really is and his dark past. You wanted to reassure him, so you started kissing the scars on his shoulder and paying more attention to them. "You are perfect, Bucky. So perfect, I could just eat you." You said this to him while grinning and tucking your bottom lip in between your teeth. You could clearly see his gaze soften and his cheeks turn bright red as he chuckled shyly.
"Look who's talking." He smiled and started kissing you passionately again. "Can we take this to the bedroom, plum?" He kissed your cheek and kept moving down, kissing your neck and collarbone.
"I was about to tell you that. The condoms are in the bedroom, anyway." You said that out of breath. You felt his arms wrapping around you and hugging you tight to his chest as he pulled you up in his arms and held you tight as he stood up, and you directed him to your bedroom while filling his neck with kisses and noticed the red marks of your ruined lipstick on him. You took a look at his face and found his mouth all smeared with red lipstick. You smiled at that sight. "This shade looks very flattering on you, Sergeant Barnes." You giggled and swiped your thumb on his lips while cupping his cheek in your palm as he was smiling like an idiot at you.
He turned on the light in your bedroom and threw you gently on the bed. He threw himself on you after taking off his dark pants, while you removed your ruined dress and threw it on the floor, leaving the two of you bare-chested. You kept making out more with him while he kept grinding his length on your clothed cunt and moaning in each other's mouths. "Can I?" he panted as he hooked his fingers on the elastic band of your underpants, asking for permission to take them off.
"Yes, please." You breathed out and lifted your hips off the bed, making it easier for him to take them off. He removed it gently and threw it across the room. He placed both of his hands on your knees and opened your legs widely. He gasped a little at the picture in front of him—your soaking wet cunt bared to him as you're fully naked underneath him with your perfect-rounded breasts moving up and down because of your panting and your perked nipples being so tempting for him to just suckle on them all night long. His mouth was open, and his eyes were full of nothing but hunger and lust as if he were eating your body with his gaze.
"Fuck, you're perfect." His hands slipped so nicely and easily from your calf up to your hips, and he started circling your sensitive bud with his thumb. "I want you to be my fucking girl forever." He started kissing your body all over. From your hips to your arms to your belly button to your breast, he kept sucking on your nipples for a little bit. All of that while his metal hand never left your cunt, as he kept rubbing it and toying with your sensitive clit with his fingers. "If you let me in, doll, I don't think I'd ever be able to leave." He looked into your eyes while saying that.
Seeing the look on his face and the way his eyes were lost in yours, you got the feeling that it wasn't just some dirty talk and that he actually meant it. "Then don't leave, sergeant. Make me yours." You pulled him in for a long, deep kiss that left you both out of breath. You gasped loudly as you felt his finger enter your hole suddenly and stretch your it.
He pushed another finger in and kept pumping them slowly inside of you, curving and scissoring them and stretching you.
You can't control your need for him and his throbbing cock inside of you, as you can already feel it nudging your inner thigh and feel the wetness caused by the precum. "Sergeant, please, I need you. Stop teasing." You whined and pushed your hips up a little, signaling to him how desperate and needy you are for him.
He chuckled and asked you about the location of the condoms, and you motioned to him their location in the drawer of your bedside table. He lifted his body from on top of you, took off his boxers, and went to the condom drawer. He took some, threw them on the bed next to you, took one in his teeth, unwrapped it, and put it on his cock.
You looked at the four or five extra condoms next to you and looked at him, confused, with an evil grin on your face. "Don't worry, plum. You're my girl now, remember? And tonight, I get to fuck my girl as much as I want. And I really want to keep you impaled on my cock all night long. Is that okay with you, doll?" He was massaging your inner thighs and mirroring your evil grin.
"Yes, sergeant. I'm all yours to fuck." You teased back and opened your legs more, giving him more access. He smirked at you and lined up the head of his cock with your entrance. He started to push in slowly while you wrapped your legs around his hips and pulled him closer, which made him push half of his cock into you. You cried out at the burn and stretch of his cock, which you thought was carved by the gods because of how magnificent and big it is. 
He pushed his cock into you until he bottomed out. You felt so full that if he switched the angle, he'd be able to touch your cervix with the head of his cock. He was that deep in your cunt. "You're so tight, doll. So perfect for me. Fuck, I won't last long." He groaned as he started moving and thrusting slowly. You just can't control your moans or cries at that moment, and you don't care. His name was falling out of your mouth like a prayer as he picked up the pace and started to thrust faster and deeper.
He lifted your legs up and placed them on his shoulders. This new position made him go even deeper, and as you thought, his cock is hitting your cervix and that deep spot in you that makes you scream like a woman possessed. He hugged your legs with his left arm, and the other one was pressed against your lower stomach while his thumb was moving in circles on your swollen clit. You were so close, and your throat started to itch and soar from your uncontrollable screams and cries. You've never been fucked that good, you thought to yourself. He was hitting all the right spots, moving at the perfect pace, and just being irresistible enough to make you fall in love with him. He stole your breath away from that first glance at the bar, but now? Now he was fucking you like he knew you, your spots, and what you wanted and liked. It's like you were made for each other.
Your orgasm crashed into you suddenly, and by then you were just a whimpering mess. Bucky didn't stop and kept fucking you through your orgasm, making it last longer and focusing on pleasuring you more. You were clenching around his cock like crazy, and he kept moaning and whimpering like a teenage boy losing his virginity for the first time. He snapped and emptied his load inside of you as his thrusts got sloppier. "Fuck, doll, I think the condom broke." He noticed that when he looked at where your bodies were connected and saw that big cut on the head of the condom. He chuckled softly and looked at you.
You pulled your legs down from their positions on his shoulder and lifted yourself up on your elbows to see how it broke. "What the hell? How did that happen?" You were panting, then you looked at him and chuckled at that dumb accident.
"I don't know. Maybe because of how hard and fast I was going and with your cunt choking my cock like a vase, I'd say I'm surprised it snapped like this instead of being taken off by the pressure." He giggled, moved his head down, and kissed you. "But don't worry doll. I got you." He pulled himself out of you and moved down your body until he was face-to-face with your swollen cunt. "I'll make sure you get all cleaned up." He said this before lapping and licking your mixed white liquid. Which didn't help your oversensitivity and made you get overstimulated quickly.
"God, Bucky, I'm going to cum again." You cried out, pulled on his hair, and pushed your hips up a bit, almost riding his face. He hummed and groaned while sucking your clit and shaking his head. That made you fall off the edge quicker and you came and gushed all over his face.
He didn't stop until he cleaned you up of everything, and you kept twitching and shaking from the overstimulation, but it felt too good to tell him to stop. After he fulfilled his promise and got you all cleaned up with his tongue, he pulled away and threw himself on the bed next to you after taking you in his arms first and hugging you closely. You lifted your leg over his and hugged him back. You both kept cuddling for a while in your bed, trying to catch your breath while looking at each other and smiling like stupid kids.
"Thank you." He said it softly and kissed your forehead. while stroking your arm gently.
"For what?" You smiled in confusion and looked deeply into his hazy blue eyes.
"I'll tell you later, but now my girl needs to rest for a while because I'm not done with her yet." He tickled you, and you both were laughing and enjoying each other's presence so much that you didn't want to leave each other for one second, and your hands couldn't get off one another.
Of course, the rest of the night you spent it talking and learning more about each other, and to take a break from all the talking and trauma dumping, you kept fucking like rabbits. You don't know how or when it happened, but you fell deeply in love with him and wanted him to actually be yours. 
The next day, you woke up and found him making breakfast in your kitchen. You were so happy to find him discovering things in your kitchen and making food, and you wished silently to wake up every morning to this sight. Later, while you both were eating breakfast, he asked you out on a date and told you how much he liked you, enjoyed your company, and wanted to be your boyfriend. You agreed immediately and kept making out with him for the rest of the day until he had to leave because of an emergency meeting that occurred in the tower. You found it so hard to let him go and kept clinging to him, even when he was getting dressed, but he promised he'd come right back to you once he finished the meeting. You eventually agreed to let him go, and he told you he'd take you out for dinner tonight as your first official date. You gave him one last passionate kiss, and he left.
Later on, and after hundreds of dates and dating for almost a year now, he finally told you what he meant by thanking you after you both hooked up for the first time ever. He explained to you how this was his first time having sex since the forties, how he had that built-up sexual tension and frustration that almost made him lose his mind, and he started to feel insecure because of that, and how it all changed when he slept with you for the first time, and how you made it so easy for him and let him get back to his old self and feel like the old Bucky again, whom he thought was dead since that moment he fell off that train in Europe. Your relationship with Bucky was the best thing that ever happened to the two of you. You both changed each other, helped each other grow, and found out what being in love is actually like. He literally said "I love you" after the third week of being together and during a very hot love-making session, which was the best sex you've ever had in your life. Bucky was the best lover you could've asked for, and you were so grateful for him and for that night out with your friend in that Manhattan club that you were reluctant to go to in the first place. It was fate that brought you together.
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utterlyotterlyx · 2 months
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A Fate Inked In Starlight
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Eris x Fem!Reader x Azriel
Summary - After crashing into the Autumn Court with no idea who you are, where you are or how you got there, Eris takes it upon himself to hide you and care for you with the help of the Night Court. That is until souls from other walks of life infiltrate Prythian searching for you.
Warnings - mentions of blood, Eris being gentle 🥺, memory loss, kinda arsehole Rhys?x
Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five
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Leaves of red and orange peered down at you inquisitively, and the earth was hard and slightly damp beneath you.
You hissed as you moved, a metallic sting coating the inside of your mouth. The world tilted, a dull thumping in your mind swelled behind your eyes and you pinched the bridge of your nose in attempt to centre yourself.
It hadn’t worked.
Looking about, you drank in where you had awoken, soil and an array of foliage welcomed your sight, dark bark held onto browning leaves, some of which floated around where you sat. Light birdsong and the faint chirp of crickets flittered around you with the occasional crunch of dry twigs that snapped under the weight of the mammals that trotted by, not heading much mind to you.
You were clad in some kind of black armour, a second skin that fit you perfectly as it curved around your breasts and hips, the material splitting open in the shape of lightening across your chest where yellow gems and light hummed. Jewelled metal talons were fitted to your fingertips, coated with dry blood that had worked itself into each crevasse it could. You were sure that whatever you looked like was not a pretty sight.
Something had kept you glued to your spot, swaying slightly from the brute force that had clearly been wrecked upon you. From what you had no idea.
From the distance, you heard the beating of hooves against the hard ground, growing louder with each passing moment before a brilliant white stag exploded into the clearing where you were. It was beautiful, those pools of emerald bore into you, there was terror laced behind them, and the stag readied his attack as he lowered his antlers toward you.
“I’m not going to harm you,” you told the creature with an extended hand, an extension of your surrender, “I promise.”
The stag surveyed you, noting the wild hair that had fallen from a once tightly strung braid, the blood that coated your neck and fingers, the bewilderment in your eyes. No, you certainly weren’t a threat.
“I’m not sure how I came to be here. I don’t know where I am,” you continued, as if the stag would be able to answer any of your questions.
The creature relaxed, taking a tentative step forward to sniff the outstretched talons fixed to your fingertips. He huffed and shook his head, one of his hooves tapping against the ground as another sound entered your earshot.
“Dogs,” you said softly, sadness laced in your rough voice that scratched at your throat. “Go. I’ll distract them,” you turned your hand, exposing your palm to him, he rested his snout in it gently, and only for a moment before he bounded away. Leaping over molehills whilst leaving you alone once more.
The barking drew closer and your breath caught in your throat at the obvious number of hounds that approached your position, perhaps mistaking your blood for that of the stags.
They hurtled into the clearing, the hedges and flowers parting for them as they surged through the air and landed in front of you, mouths pulled back and snarling teeth ready to tear you apart. You shuffled back as they circled you, snapping, slobber dripping from their canines causing your heart rate to beat in your ears. Hitting the trunk of a tree, you sighed, realising there were no weapons attached to the leather holsters at your thighs made your current predicament a lot more complicated.
You wouldn’t dream of harming an animal, at least, you thought so.
A flutter of your heart gave way to gentle excitement when you had seen the stag, and even the dogs despite them wanting to turn you into a meal.
A sharp whistle tore their attention from you, pulling them back to the source as he too entered the clearing. His head was tilted to the side and he examined you with a hand resting on the hilt of his sword, assessing if you were a threat or not. Red hair and amber eyes found you, and he approached, splitting his gaze between you and your laboured breathing to the scene around you both.
“Who are you?” His voice was rough but held a stoic calm, the deepness of his words made your hairs stand on edge.
A simple question. Your name. You opened your mouth but nothing came out, you stuttered, eyes wide as nothing came to mind, “I, I don’t know.”
You were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Wide doe eyes staring at him in bewilderment, he knew your skin would be soft despite the mud and blood coating your surface. The sharp jaw and hallowed cheeks, full pouted lips and an elegantly pointed nose. Too beautiful for a human or fae.
The confusion etched into every inch of your features made the man relax a little, he knelt before you, his dogs happy with wagging tails brushing against his side, “Do you know where you came from?” By the looks of your armour, the blood coated talons, and the cuts dug into the side of your neck, it was clear to him that you weren’t from Prythian. You looked too advanced for his world.
You shook your head, muttering a faint and weak answer to him.
He hummed, reaching to tuck a strand of your dirty matted hair behind your pointed ear. Fae, he noted. Smiling when you didn’t flinch under his touch, he offered a hand to you, it was calloused and rough, but his pressure was gentle and guiding as he helped you from the ground.
“I’m Eris Vanserra, and you’re in the Autumn Court,” he looked down at you through thick lashes and offered a warm smile.
“Eris,” his name fell from your lips and he nodded in encouragement as you familiarised yourself with the sound of it. Yes, you definitely weren’t from his world, if you were, you’d surely cower from his name and the mention of where you were.
A pressure consumed your feet, and you found one of his hounds sat on them, staring up at you with its panting tongue flopping against the side of its jaw, its tail rustling the leaves beneath it as it wagged happily, “That’s enough, Duke,” Eris scolded the hound, rubbing between his ears in a bid to get him to move, “I’m sorry about him.”
“Don’t be. I don’t mind,” you smiled, and he noticed the warmth in your eyes, the molten gold and ocean blue that could have him entranced if he wasn’t careful. “I’m sorry about this,” you motioned the air, the current situation you found yourselves in, “I wish I knew what to say.”
“It’s fine,” he frowned slightly as he peered at the still open flesh on your neck that leaked with every heartbeat, “Let me help you with that.”
“I couldn’t ask you to do that.”
Eris smirked, “You’re not asking,” he shrugged as he heading back in the direction from whence he came, adjusting his brown jacket which lay over a cream open collared shirt. You weren’t sure how you didn’t notice it before, the well fit pants and shirt, the adornment of fine rings across his digits. Eris Vanserra was clearly someone of high standing, and you felt stupid for not knowing. The disappointment felt foreign to you.
The male looked back at you expectantly, his well kept fiery red hair tousling over his forehead, freckles visible as the sunlight hit his face. “Thank you,” you followed his steps, Duke trotting alongside you like a personal guard.
Once you had made it back to Fir Manor, Eris’ private residence that was home to him and his hounds alone, he insisted that you bathe, that it would be easier for the healer to assess the damage if she could tell what was or wasn’t your own blood.
You didn’t need telling twice, you thanked Eris for the spare clothes, a sheer deep red dress, before you slipped into the bathroom and peeled off your second skin, paying no mind to the marks that littered your forearms and torso, the marks that covered every inch of your body.
It seemed silly. To be so trusting of someone you’d just met. But something told you that Eris wasn’t a threat to you. Something had allowed you to feel safe with him.
You sighed as the hot water worked to relax your muscles, the rest of the world fading away into blissful nothingness.
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Rhys was happy.
Finally happy.
A mate and a babe. A family. No danger for the first time in what felt like a millennia.
Rhys watched them, watched his Nyx swaddled into Feyre’s chest as she painted, humming some lullaby to the dozing babe. Light poured into the room from the domed glass and he let a content sigh pass through his lips from where he leaned against the doorframe. Relishing in the sight for a moment longer before retreating back to his office and closing the door with a soft click.
He wasn’t sure where the rest of them were, Mor would be returning from the human lands soon, Cassian and Azriel were surely training, Nesta was probably nose deep in another book in the library with Amren at her side, and Elain was tucked away with Lucien somewhere revelling in their newly accepted mating bond.
Everything was as it should be.
The papers on his desk were too chaotic for anyone else to understand but him, he knew where each treaty lay in the stack, where each letter from a concerned citizen sat, when Az’s countless reports waited for his eye.
Though, one thing caught his eye that definitely hadn’t been there before he’d gone to check on his mate and child. A folded up rip of parchment, singed at the edges with an aroma of wet grass gripping to it.
It reeked of Autumn, of Eris.
Rhys wasn’t worried that the heir had contacted him. They were planning for a better Autumn once Beron handed over his title, it wasn’t out of the ordinary to hear from the eldest Vanserra at all. Scanning the parchment, Rhys felt his interest grow in the words, the vague message that beckoned him to Fir Manor, telling him that someone had dropped into the forest who Rhys may be interested in meeting.
So, the High Lord of the Night Court stalked through the halls, parchment in hand as the clash of swords and jostling laughter flooded his senses. Then he saw them, his two brothers in their training leathers, wide smiles and bruises that would fade within the hour as they jabbed another with playful words.
“Ah, did you call on Rhys to come and save you, Az? How desperate,” Cassian glimmered, his wings rustling and body keeping guard against Azriel’s oncoming attack.
Rhys stepped between them, holding the parchment in the air between his fingers with a smirk on his lips as Azriel to it from him, scanning the words, “With no memory of where she came from?” Azriel questioned, his shadows curling over his shoulders as though they wished to see what held their masters attention whilst he handed the written words to Cassian who pouted about being left out.
“Do you remember the visitor we had not too long ago?”
Azriel smirked at the memory of the redhead scouring through the caves of Prythian, “Bryce?”
“Yes, Bryce.” Rhys sent a glare to Cassian, no doubt still unhappy at his mates willingness to aid the girl, “She too fell into our world out of nowhere, didn’t she?”
Cassian stopped the thought before it could be shared, “Yes, but Bryce knew who she was and why she came here. It seems this woman doesn’t share that similarity,” he turned the paper over in his hand, like some newfound information was going to be inscribed elsewhere.
From the brief information that Eris had sent to Rhys, the woman who had fell into the Autumn had no idea who she was or where she was let alone how she found herself bleeding in a different world from her own.
“Regardless,” Rhys’ eyes glowed at the hidden message Cassian had tried to convey, that maybe this woman had nothing to do with Bryce and whatever war she was fighting on her shores. Though Cassian did have to admit that it was a coincidence that another soul had floated through into their world. “It needs to be investigated. Azriel, you’ll come with me. Cassian, you’ll stay here.”
The pair knew better than to convince Rhys otherwise, Azriel especially knew better than to refuse and potentially put his home and people in danger.
Another invader had dove into his world, his home, and he’d be damned by the Mother if he let another one trick him again.
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Authors Note
Hi my loves!
It’s been a while. I know I’m usually a Bridgerton girly but I’m kinda obsessed with everything SJM right now.
So, here we are. My first Maasverse fic 🤷‍♀️
I am wanting to write a series on this so let me know what you think! I’ve been out of the game for a bit 🤍
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nebulousbrainsoup · 5 months
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quiet
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🌙 SUMMARY: sometimes, your boyfriend has a little trouble expressing himself. he gets stuck in that pretty head of his, thoughts swirling like a storm. thankfully, you know just how to help him out of it. 🌙 PAIRING: kang yeosang x gn!reader 🌙 GENRE: fluff, smut 🌙 AU/TROPE INFO: established relationship, comfort after hurt 🌙 WORD COUNT: 1.8k 🌙 TAGS/WARNINGS: non-sexual dom/sub dynamics, stressed yeosang, stress/anxiety reactions, non-verbal yeosang for some of this, explicit discussion/negotiation of d/s dynamics & safety measures, pet names/nicknames (my Sangie, baby, angel, the rest happen in the smut lol), nonverbal cues as communication, subspace, brief mentions of food and eating, cuddling, not proofread 🌙RATING: mature 🌙 A/N: this is... a new venture for me, as far as released fics go. i have about a million blurbs like this that will never see the light of day, but after what happened yesterday... i had to give my boy some comfort. i hope you enjoy <3 🌙 smut tags under the cut ; divs from @cafekitsune 🌙 masterlist | join my taglist | buy me a coffee?
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🌙 SMUT TAGS/WARNINGS: clothed sex, dom/sub dynamics, dry humping, cumming in pants, emotional release crying, traffic light check-in system, pet names ([my] Sangie, baby, angel, baby boy, sweetheart, good boy), reader is possessive, gratuitous praise, humiliation if you squint, sub!yeosang, dom!reader
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The moment your apartment door swung open, you knew something was wrong. It wasn’t the act itself that threw you; unannounced visits weren’t Yeosang’s style and, as you had come to expect, he had texted you before coming over. There was nothing telling about the way it opened either, the quiet creak of the hinges a welcome familiarity over top of the tension you felt radiate through the space. No version of the sing-song greeting you were accustomed to met your ears as you heard it click shut, and you frowned. The crease between your brows only deepened as you heard his bag hit the floor of the entryway, your jaw tightening. 
This wouldn’t do.
Quiet footsteps shuffled toward the kitchen but you paid them no mind, focusing entirely on the pot of soup in front of you. A small, pleased noise sounded from the doorway, and within moments, strong arms were wrapped around your waist and Yeosang was burying his nose into your hair. You basked in the touch for a moment, letting yourself indulge despite your boyfriend’s disregard for your rules. With a steadying breath, you clicked your tongue in disapproval, moving to step out of his grasp as you reached for a cabinet above you. He only coiled tighter around you as you shifted, a broken little whimper leaving him and three gentle taps landing on your hip.
Your heart broke as you settled back onto your feet, recalling a months-old conversation for the hundredth time.
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“So, I’m okay with all of that. It’s really stuff I already do anyway,” Yeosang affirmed, a pretty blush coloring his cheeks and ears as he looked over the tablet in front of him. “I mean, I don’t want you to think I’m like… breaking in or something when I walk in.” 
You both giggled at that. “So greeting me should be easy, then. We’re starting out simple, Sangie, that’s kind of the point of this.”
He nodded in understanding, fingers tapping against the table. “So, one thing I already do and one new thing.” 
It was your turn to nod, a sheepish smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah. It’s kind of selfish too, honestly… I know I don’t have a lot of space, but even just giving your bag a more permanent home than by the door just… feels nice. It feels like you’re not going to run out on me over the little things.” 
The look he directed back up at you was one of sheer adoration, and you felt your stomach flip. “Of course I wouldn’t.” 
It was your turn to blush. You had to pause, gathering your wits before opening your mouth to speak but, to your surprise, your boyfriend beat you to it. “There’s just one thing. I… Sometimes, if I have a particularly overwhelming day, I don’t always… have words. And I don’t want to keep myself away from you or get in trouble with you on my worst days just because I’m too in my head to speak.” 
Something gripped at your heart, squeezing it tight. “We can do nonverbal cues, like we do during regular scenes. You could tap me three times to let me know you’re out of words, if that works? That way you can still use your double tap to safeword, even outside of the bedroom, but you don’t have to push yourself to provide an explanation.”
His eyes lit up, a soft little smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “That’s perfect.”
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You had known it would happen at some point, but that didn’t keep your heart from hurting. “Oh, my Sangie,” you murmured, reaching back to card a hand into his hair. Another pitiful whimper left him and some of the tension drained from his shoulders at the attention. “I need to finish dinner, baby.” Again, a whine of protest, and his grip around you tightened. “Angel,” you prodded, and sighed internally when the pet name had him melting against you. “You can have all the attention you want in ten minutes after I finish dinner. Why don’t you go put your bag where it’s supposed to be and curl up on the couch in the meantime, hm? Pick out a show for us to watch while we eat.” 
He huffed a sigh but you felt him nod against your neck and squeeze you tight once more, pressing a kiss to your head before heading off back into your apartment. You turned, watching him go with a pained expression. 
No, this wouldn’t do at all.
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The moment the last drop of soup was gone from both of your bowls, your dishes were swept away, deposited in the sink by your boyfriend, who quickly bundled himself up into your lap upon his return. You chuckled quietly, carding a hand into his hair as you sprawled out on the couch, his ear pressed against your steady heartbeat. Between the dull roar of the drama on the screen, the soothing rhythm of your fingers in his hair, and the warmth of the blanket across his legs, Yeosang quickly found the worries of his day fading away. His mind went hazy as he melted against you, eyes slipping shut as comfort and safety overtook him, lulling him into a familiar, floaty headspace. He felt more than heard your chuckle as you took note of the change, scratching fondly at his scalp.
The drag of your nails sparked the pleasant warmth in his gut to something stronger, a low groan leaving him that seemed to startle both of you. He jolted in your lap, eyes blinking back open, and you chuckled quietly as a flush painted his cheeks and ears. You grinned at him and he whined, burying his face back into your chest. The squirming only brought another fond laugh to your lips, this one cut short in a gasp as Yeosang froze, another whimper leaving his lips.
He was hard beneath his sweats, his length now pressed into your thigh from his shifting. The tips of his ears were tinted bright red, and you smiled fondly as you cupped his chin. He turned his chin up to you willingly, eyes wide and glassy. 
“Needy, baby?” You teased, and he nodded immediately in response. “Do you have your words back? You know I don’t like playing if my angel can’t talk to me.” 
His eyes left yours for a moment as his brow furrowed in thought, but when he met your gaze again, he nodded resolutely. “‘M green,” he murmured, voice gravelly from disuse.
You beamed at him, shifting to grind your thigh against his arousal and delighting in the weak little noise you pulled from him. “My good boy,” you purred, carding a hand back into his hair. 
Yeosang groaned as he shifted up and braced himself on his forearms, burying his face into your neck to press soft kisses to your skin. Slowly, you let one hand drop to his hip, guiding him to grind against your thigh. His breath caught in his throat for a moment, another broken sound leaving him as he quickly settled into a steady rhythm.
“Is this what you want, angel? To grind yourself on my thigh and cum in your pants like a teenager?” He whined, burying his nose against your neck. You sighed as the combined sensations lit a shudder down your spine, holding your boyfriend close to you. “Want me to get you off just like this?” His hips stuttered, and you felt him nod against your neck. “Words, baby.”
“Y-Yes,” he gasped, and you bit your lip to bite back a groan. God, he sounded so wrecked already. Had floating in subspace for you really affected him this much? “If… Wanna take care of you, too, but it feels so good, ngh…”
He trailed off, hips rolling faster against your leg, and this time you couldn’t bite back a quiet, pleased moan. “Don’t worry about me, angel. Tonight’s all about you, okay? My baby boy had a long day,” he buried his face into your shoulder at this, another whine leaving him, and you felt your chest tighten again, “so he gets to choose how he cums tonight.” 
Once more, his hips stuttered and his breath caught at once. “Wanna… like this. Then,” he gasped, teeth nipping at your throat as he rutted harder against you, “then…” He trailed off with a high whine, his movement against you becoming more desperate.
“Don’t worry about what comes after, sweetheart. Just worry about now. You’re here, with me, doing so well and looking so pretty for me, and that’s all that matters, okay angel?” 
He tensed in your arms, a half-choked sob escaping his lips, and when you felt the first warm, wet tears drop against your skin, your heart dropped. The hand still resting against his scalp dug in and you tugged, trying to pull him away from you. A sound slipped from his lips that was positively wrecked, and one hand snapped up from the couch to bunch your shirt up in his fist. The desperation he clung to you with as he chased his high had you hesitating, but the tension in your shoulders remained.
It seemed Yeosang noticed, his lips pressing urgently over your neck to soothe you, words spilling from his lips unfiltered as you remained rigid. “I’m good, I’m okay, I’m s–so, oh, green, please, it just f–feels s’good and I… need this, need you—”
His reassurance had you relaxing, nails scraping against his scalp once more and pulling another pretty noise from him. “Just feels too good, doesn’t it, angel?” He nodded furiously into your neck and you breathed a laugh, shifting where you sat. There was no denying the effect this—your boyfriend, trembling and sobbing in your lap, overwhelmed with pleasure—was having on you. 
Gently, you coaxed his chin up as you had before, meeting his teary eyes with a warm smile. “You look so pretty like this, Sangie. You can cum whenever you want, okay? You have my permission.” 
He let out another broken sob, hips rolling against you once, twice more before they stuttered into aborted little jerks. You watched, enthralled, as his jaw dropped open and his eyes blinked shut, the pooling warmth of his release evident even through the layers separating you.
“There you go, baby,” you sighed, leaning in to catch his lips in a deep kiss. You were both breathless when you parted, resting your foreheads against each other. “Feel better?” Yeosang nodded, humming affirmation. “Good. Now, let’s go clean you up, and you can tell me all about those plans you have for later, hm?” 
The groan he muffled into your neck had you giggling once more, pressing a reassuring kiss into his hair. This was better.
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© December 2023 nebulousbrainsoup | all rights reserved. reposting and translating of author’s work is prohibited.
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unqrowned · 4 months
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YOU STILL HAVE IT? — JJK MEN X M!READER
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❛ ⠀♡ . ˑ⠀featuring   :   choso , nanami kento , higuruma hiromi , & getou suguru .
❛ ⠀♡ . ˑ⠀synopsis   :   you discover that your boyfriend is still holding onto something you gave them a long while ago ! — WC: 1.7k
❛ ⠀♡ . ˑ⠀notes   :   male reader. fluff. established relationship. "darling" & "love" as a nickname. not proofread.
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✧ ⠀ › ⠀ CHOSO
Without a doubt, he keeps everything related to you two and your relationship in a special box. Anything you’ve ever given to him or something you two have gotten while out on a date is kept safe in this box. 
Expect to see things from old letters to polaroid pictures to even movie or concert tickets. Just about anything and everything really.
He likes to preserve all these things as if he’s captured the moments and memories. Every single thing saved carries the weight of your shared love and affection for each other, and that’s something that he won’t risk losing.
This also applies with digital things such as any selfies and pictures you’ve sent him. He saves them all and has a folder dedicated to those pictures that’s named “my boyfriend ♡”.
Both you and Choso are searching through his room for a movie disc—one that Itadori swears up and down he left behind there the last time he visited. As you crouch down in hopes you’ll find this movie case and call an end to this search, your eyes land on a box that’s innocently sitting underneath the bed.
You can’t recall ever seeing this box here before. Then again, it’s not as if you’re actively rummaging around under your boyfriend’s bed.
This must be where Itadori’s movie is then. That’s the conclusion you come up with as you slide the box out. But before you can question Itadori’s choice in keeping a movie disc in such a large box, your thoughts come to a halt as you open it.
“Oh,” Blinking a couple times, the items within the box don’t change. Rather than being the movie disc you thought you finally found, there’s stacks of letters, dried flowers, some tickets, and more instead. 
It wasn’t until your eyes landed on the movie tickets on the very top and noticed the movie title and the date were the exact same as the movie date you went with Choso just last weekend.
That’s when it hits you that you recognize all these items. 
“You kept all this?”
Your voice guides Choso’s attention away from the drawers he was searching through. His steps are quiet as he moves over to your side, peering at what you’re looking at.
His eyes widened a slight bit once he realized what you’ve found before he crouched beside you. “Of course,” There’s a hint of a smile that reached his face as his gaze lingered on the items, “Why would I not keep all this? They hold such fond memories that I would like to keep.”
The response tugged at your heart that you can’t help but coo softly, reaching out to kiss him.
“That’s really cute.” 
Neither one of you have any complaints about putting a pause on searching for Itadori’s movie in favor of going through old memories and reminiscing on those times.
✧ ⠀ › ⠀ NANAMI KENTO
All the flowers and bouquets that you give him randomly are the ones that he preserves. Of course, it’s difficult to keep flowers after they start wilting, so he goes through the process of pressing them as a way to keep them.
He cherishes each of them with all his heart. It makes him smile whenever you surprise him with them, so he likes to maintain them and they tend to last for a long time.
Depending on the flowers, he may dry them to preserve their shape and display them instead of pressing them. Either way, he will have them around as if leaving tokens of your love all over his place. 
Anywhere he steps in his place and sees those dried or pressed flowers is a strong reminder of your love for him.
You’re helping him clean around the house to lessen the weight from his shoulders (even though he insists that you don’t have to, you always do since you love seeing the tension leave his body whenever he has less this stress over). 
As you’re wiping down some tables, you can’t help but get distracted by the sight of some pressed flowers and petals framed. These weren’t here the last time you came over.
You stepped closer to these frames, leaning in to admire the sight of them.
“Hey Kento, where did you get these?” You ask him, voice full of curiosity. You never pictured Kento as the type of man to decorate his space with pressed flowers, but you can’t deny that they do look rather pretty. 
Even if the ones you were admiring were only lined up in a row, waiting for a proper place to be set up.
You hear Kento make his way over to you. A partially questioning look on his face given your lack of specifics on what you were referring to. 
Though it soon fades away once he notices the pressed flowers that you’re near. “Oh, those are from bouquets and flowers you’ve given me.”
It was a simple answer. A simple answer that had you stare up at Kento in awe.
“Huh? Like all of them?”
“Yes, all of them.”
Feeling surprised is an understatement. You never expected him to do anything with the flowers you’ve given him. Your gaze shifted back to the pressed flowers, admiring them a bit longer, and you turned back to look at him with a smile.
“Can you teach me how to do that? I want to save some of the flowers you get me too!” 
“Of course, darling.”
✧ ⠀ › ⠀ HIGURUMA HIROMI
You have the habit of leaving him sticky notes with either motivational messages or silly doodles for him to find or take as he goes to work. It’s something for him to look at and be reminded that he has you cheering him on to get through the day.
It absolutely does get him through the day. There was no way he would be able to part with them once the sticky notes lost their adhesive. Especially not when he’s staring at the ones in his hands that have your handwriting mentioning how you love him.
The older notes are kept somewhere safe in a box at the bottom of a drawer. All the newer ones are those that he sets up onto his computer and desk, in places that he can easily see while he’s working.
“Hiromi, you forgot your lunch.” The sound of your voice pulls him away from the documents that Hiromi was going through. It wasn’t that often that you came to visit him at his workplace, but of all the times you did, it was mostly for the same reason. Him forgetting his lunch.
It made him grateful to have someone as caring as you, who always looked out for his well-being and made sure that he didn’t skip out on any meals.
His eyes traveled slightly down to look at the bento in your hands. He can see another one of your sticky notes right on top of it, especially as you soon hold it out to him.
Any traces of exhaustion seemed to wash away at the mere sight of you and that note. 
With a soft thanks, he sets the bento down to his desk, away from his important papers, as you walk around the desk to be closer to him. You’re leaning close to press a kiss to his temple when you spot a small pile of sticky notes at the side of his desk from the corner of your eye..
At first, you thought these were some notes he made, but you soon recognize your own handwriting and doodles. Except these aren’t any of the recent ones you’ve done for him.
No, they looked older.
“I didn’t know you still had those old notes.” You commented after you finally gave Hiromi a quick kiss at his temple. 
His head tilted in the direction that you’re staring at. “Ah,” He reached out for the pile, “Well, I couldn’t just get rid of them. I like looking back on them.” Hiromi admitted before he went to rest his head against your side.
He can’t help but gravitate to his lovely boyfriend with such ease. “Especially on long days.”
“That’s sweet,” You tell him with a smile growing on your face. “I’ll be sure to write you a lot more notes then.” 
“I appreciate that, love.”
✧ ⠀ › ⠀ GETOU SUGURU
It’s pictures of you that he tends to keep. Anything from picture booths to polaroids to random pictures you printed out and handed to him.
He keeps them all and carries at least one picture in his wallet. Whenever he’s out with his daughters and going to pay, the employee behind the counter gets a glimpse of whatever picture he has in his wallet.  
The picture is constantly being swapped around. Sometimes it’s just of you, other times it’s a picture that has the both of you in it, and there's some that have you both and his daughters there.
Nanako and Mimiko sent you both out to check out this new cafe that opened up to see if it was worth stopping by. It was a cute place; one that you’re certain that they will enjoy.
Right now, you’re in line with Suguru to order some drinks and pastries (to take back for the girls, of course). Idle conversations are made as you both move up to the front with Suguru stepping in to take care of ordering.
When he takes out his wallet to pull out his card, your eyes happen to flicker over. In there you spot a polaroid tucked safely inside of the two of you.
It’s one of the more sillier pictures that exist of you both. You remember how long it took to convince Suguru to strike the most ridiculous pose with you, and you remember the minor complaints he had afterwards once the polaroids developed. 
Your copy of the polaroid is kept safe with the rest of the other polaroids of you two, but you never had any idea of what Suguru did with his. 
“You still have that photo?” You asked, voice full of amusement as the memories of that night came flooding back. “I thought you said you didn’t like it because of how silly you looked.”
One end of his mouth twitched partially upwards at your words. “Hm, I did,” Suguru hummed softly while he pulled out the polaroid. “But my boyfriend looks very adorable in it, so I can look past that.” 
The way that he shoots you a small grin manages to bring some color to your cheeks.
And it doesn’t help that he carries on as normal, paying for the order, and the employee also comments what a cute picture that polaroid was. His simple response of, “I know,” was more than enough to make your cheeks flush even more.
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meow-meowism · 4 months
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BG3 male companions and doing your hair
I had this idea stuck in my head for ages, and I finally have the willpower to write them! I wrote this with a GN! Tav with long hair in mind but if enough people like this I will write for Tavs who have short hair!!!! Also do not worry I will write for the fem companions soon!!! If you find any mistakes pls let me know this is my first non-request post 🥲🥲🥲 (No pronouns other than you)
Gale Dekarios
Gale doesn't know how he got lucky enough to meet you. Whenever he is reminded that his adoration, his devotion, his love for you is reciprocated he feels like the orb in his chest might just blow up from the rush of emotion that hits him. When you ask him to help wash and braid your hair he has to fight the urge to crush you in his embrace, settling instead on a eager yes. He met you by the side of the river close to camp and was met with the sight of you already half submerged in the water, turning to look at him at the sound of his approaching footsteps.
"And here I was starting to think I was being stood up." You teased, turning back to focus again on working some knots in your hair.
"Perish the thought! As if I would ever break a promise to my Polaris." Gale begins to remove his clothes, stepping into the water and immediately reaching out to help you with the knots.
The two of you sat in silence as you both worked to untangle the knots gently from your hair, and once that was done you took turns washing each others hair and bodies (with surprisingly little heated touches). Once you're both dry and clothed back on land you tug him to your tent where you sit down and begin to work oils into your hair, Once you are done you beckon him to sit behind you. He eagerly sits, giddily taking the band you hand him as he gathers your hair.
"Now my love, forgive me if there any imperfections in the braid I'm afraid I haven't had the joy of braiding anyone's hair before. And do tell me if I pull anything!"
After that you two sit in comfortable silence as he slowly and meticulously braids the sections of your hair together, with only a couple sharp intakes of breath and winces. Once he finishes tying the band to the end of your hair he is quick to project an image of you so you can see the braid properly.
"Oh Gale it's wonderful! Are you sure you haven't done this before?" You question as you turn your head from side to side, admiring the braid before turning around to look at the man behind you.
"I assure you, you are my first. In more ways than one." He says as he dismisses the image, raising a hand to your cheek as he places a kiss to your forehead.
Any other time you would take this as an innuendo, but you can feel how innocent the statement is. Knowing that he means such things as giving him the love he pours out back to him, seeing him as the wonderful man he is and not just Mystras chosen, adoring him as Gale Dekarios. You smile sweetly as you press a soft kiss to his cheek, and then his lips.
You'll have to try braiding his hair sometime.
Wyll Ravengard
Wyll thinks that if he could do it all over again, change not his path in life but who had set him on it, he would choose you. If he couldn't have you as a mortal, he would have you as his patron. He would sign the worst contract, everything weighed in your favor, if it meant being able to spend even a moment in your presence. But you are mortal, and you are here with him and he will never take that for granted. When you ask him to help wash and braid your hair he has to stop himself from falling to his knees in worship, opting instead for taking your hand and laying a kiss upon it as a form of agreeance. When he meets you by the river near the camp and finds you already in the water carefully detangling the knots in your hair he is quick to remove his clothes and come to assist.
"Come now my love, I know you have a hard time with the ones in back. Please, allow me." He says softly as his hands join yours in attempting to untangle a particularly stubborn knot.
Working it out of your hair is slow work, but once it is gone he is free to help you wash your hair and vice versa. Throughout the simple and welcomed task of washing yourselves he is always sure to leave a chaste kiss to your cheeks or your lips, never seeking for more than to convey how you make his heart sing. Once you both have washed away all the sweat and blood you make your way to your clothes on dry land, wringing the water out of your hair gently. Wyll grabs your hand and guides you to his tent where he pulls out a small bag of oils, setting them out for you to choose from.
"These are ones I use myself, so I can guarantee that they are only the best." Wyll provides as explanation, moving behind you to begin splitting your hair into sections to make applying the oil easier.
"Wyll, my love, you don't have to-" "I know I don't have to, but I want to. Indulge me and let me be your prince, please?" He says lovingly, placing a kiss to the space between your shoulder blades.
You cannot help but huff fondly and let a small alright fall from your lips as you lift a lavender oil and hand it to him before turning back around. He smiles at your choice.
"Lavender? Good to know we have similar tastes then. Tell me if anything hurts alright?" Wyll then begins to braid your hair, murmuring soft questions and stories to you as he carefully but efficiently works. Through it all you feel him braiding a trinket or two into your hair. Once he's done he hands you a small mirror and picks up one of his own, angling it just right so you could see the beautiful braids and the golden bands he had managed to weave into the strands.
"Oh Wyll...it's beautiful, all of it. Thank you for this, truly." You carefully set the mirror to the side, placing an adoring kiss to his lips as you wrap your arms around his neck.
"Of course, anything for the one I adore." He murmurs this lovingly into your hair, wrapping you up in his arms as he lays you both down on his bedroll.
Perhaps you could ask him to let you braid his hair next time.
Astarion Ancunin
Astarion was still getting used to being touched with no ulterior motive. You were always careful to keep your touches in chaste areas, even asking before touching anywhere in general, and it took him a while to become comfortable with it but he was getting better at asking to initiate simple things like holding hands or cuddling. He knew he adored you, no matter how afraid he was to admit that to anyone, and was grateful that you were patient. So when you approached looking shy, quietly asking if he would help wash and braid your hair, how could he say no to you?
When he made his way to the river near camp, he found you already in the water.
"Already naked an in the water, darling? Without me? I'm hurt." He pouted, the playfulness in his tone evident. He chuckled a little as he watched you practically jump out of the water.
"Astarion! I'm already cold don't scare me like that!" You huffed, turning back to face the water as you untangled the knots from your hair.
He laughed at that, beginning to undress and climb into the water with you. He had brought his own basket of oils and soaps (because he wanted to make sure everyone knew it was him who had helped you) and set it on a rock nearby.
You tilted your head towards, but you didn't fully turn around. Your voice was small, yet sincere when you spoke.
"Astarion...you know you don't have to do this right? Don't feel as if you have to." You had paused in untangling the knots to give him your full attention.
Astarions heart swelled, knowing that even when he was practically in the water next you you still made sure he knew he had an out. He moved closer, placing a soft chaste kiss to your shoulder.
"I know my sweet, don't worry your pretty little head over it. I know that if I asked to leave you wouldn't think twice on encouraging me to do so, which is why I want to stay" he turned you around gently to place another kiss to your lips, "now lets get these knots out of your hair. Frankly my dear I am appalled at just how many there are." He teased before grabbing a soap from his basket and getting to work.
It was quiet work after that, relaxing into his touch as he worked the soap through your knots and gently untangled them. He smiled at you and gave you another kiss when you asked him if it was alright to wash his hair in turn. Once the both of you had cleaned up and gotten yourselves dry, he practically dragged you to his tent so he could begin working the oils through your hair.
"Astarion, isn't this your signature scent?" You teased, recognizing his motive with a swell of your heart.
"Of course it is darling, everyone should know that you keep fine company." He replied quickly, but you could hear the warmth hidden in the layers.
You closed your eyes as he worked the oils in, and then began sectioning your hair into smaller braids to form one big one. You felt him braiding in smaller things but you couldn't quite figure out what. With the tying of the band around the end, he handed you a mirror and held one of his own so you could see.
"Oh Astarion, it's like an art piece!" You exclaim joyfully, taking in the sight of the bands and flowers made from gold woven into your hair.
"Please darling, the trinkets pale in comparison to you." He sets his mirror down and carefully, as if you'll say no, wraps his arms around your waist.
You turn in his hold, jostling his hands a bit before they can settle back around your waist as you lay gentle kisses to his cheeks.
Hopefully next time you can find some trinkets for his hair.
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tteokdoroki · 1 year
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*ੈ🌩️‧₊˚— egoist + yoichi isagi.
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૮˶ᵕ ༝ᵕ˶ა synopsis — teasing isagi is great. in fact, it's all fun and games...until his ego comes out to play.
⭑ warnings — please read + mdni ! characters aged up to 20s, established relationships, smut, makeout sessions, dry humping, ruined orgasms, clothed!sex, spit!kink, pro player + mean!isagi... he's very condescending not beta read ! - fem!reader.
⭑ words — 1.5K.
⭑ notes — hi !! lmao this is super last minute but i wanted to post something for isagi's bday because i'm obsessed with him !! i blacked out when writing this lmao fhbgb enjoy!! - m.list ✩
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make-outs with isagi always start off soft and slow.
you’re always curled up cuddling, tucked into his side with his head atop yours and no matter what you’re doing together — he’s always overwhelmed with this sudden urge to kiss you. yoichi will dwell on it for a while, blue eyes peering down at you while you’re distracted. overthink the best way to kiss you, if you’re in the mood, if you want to be touched.
in the end you catch him staring and a smile that makes his heart race in the way that it does on the pitch breaks out across your darling features. “yoichi,” you croon knowingly, cocking your head to the side playfully. “i know you wanna kiss me.”
“yeah, precious?” a grin to rival your own tugs in the corners of his lips, isagi looking effortlessly sexy with his dark hair in his eyes and his tongue poking in his cheek while he thinks of his next move. “how’dya know?”
“you’re staring.”
“i like the way you look. s’cute.” he taunts.
you shift and face him fully, narrowing your eyes before you counter. “then why don’t you do something about it?”
“can’t,” he shoots back smugly. “you talk too much.”
“and you think too much—!”
isagi gets hot and bothered when you play cat and mouse, he can’t help but lean in and capture your lips in a soft kiss to test the waters and see how far he can push you. he puts a hand on your chin, holding your face up to his and smirks against your lips when you work your own against him. they move together, tender and curious like the gentle push and pull of a tide guided by the moon up high — but waves always crash against the shore like dopamine hitting all the right points in the striker’s brain.
you flip a switch inside of him and the lights come on in the home of his mind. it’s when your delicate fingers traverse upwards, landing on the nape of his neck to toy with the tiny black curls there. you tug on his roots and isagi goes wild, his mouth becoming feverish against yours— tongue darting out to swipe over the seam of your lips in a silent plea for more.
along the way he manages to roll you over, so you go from being by yoichi’s side to lying underneath him— trapped in a lion’s cage. there’s a hand just above your head and one working it’s way up your shirt, your eyes are hooded and darkened and isagi’s are scrambled and feral. crazy. in the same way he gets when he’s piecing himself together during a match. this happens when you don’t let him in, when you kiss him with only your lips and tease him past the point of return.
the striker pulls back, figuring you out as he pins you to his bed with strong, slender hips— his hands leaving you to run through silky black locks and to cup his chin. “what’s the matter, egoist?” you lay waiting, panting beneath isagi while you look up at him and dare him through your lashes. “thought you wanted to kiss me.”
this is where everything changes; you lose your soft, loving isagi the moment you decide to provoke the little monster inside of him. “don’t push,” he breathes, his voice thick and husky. low in the way that makes lighting strike all the way down your spine. “you know how that ends for you, precious.” he knows you better than anyone else, what makes you tick and twitch. so he grinds down against you, just above where you need him and swoops down with a ravenous mouth when your lips part to sing isagi’s praises — eyes blowing wide as he ruts his dick into your soft tummy.
his tongue glides over yours eagerly, tasting everything you have to offer him, pushing into your mouth with a domineering force. you writhe against yoichi and mewl his name between the slipperiness of your kisses— swapping spit with your noses pressed right up against each other and your breathing so ragged that you feel as though you might pass out. your mouths slot perfectly together, moving so fast that the pace of your sloppy make out is almost bruising.
“yoichi,” you sigh out when you finally get the chance to take in some air though your chest won’t stop heaving. “goin’ too fast. w-what’s the matter, pretty boy?” your attempt to get back at him is weak, bucking your hips upwards to chase the friction that your boyfriend refuses to give you.
now it’s his turn to tilt his head to the side, licking at the string of saliva that connects your lips to his. “w-what’s the matter pretty boy?” he mocks you with a calculated thrust of his hardness against you— stickiness from his tip oozing against your skin. pouting, you fight against isagi for something. anything. you need him and he’s dangling that pleasure just above your head. “what’s the matter with you, hah? so pretty, precious. so needy. you want it that bad.” he sucks his teeth, mimicking your pout the more you grow desperate, sneering evilly as you lock your eyes away to fight off the frustrated tears.
“oh no, you don’t get to do that. open those pretty eyes for me precious,” yoichi growls but touches you tender, his hand cupping the roundness of your cheeks as he drags you up to face him. “you wanna mess around with me? fine. you wanna tease me? ‘m good with that. but you look at me. only me.” when he tells you that he means it and when you nod your head despite the whimper — agreeing to your boyfriends terms, he rewards you by shifting back and pressing the chubby outline of his dick against your molten core as his tongue laps into your mouth to swallow your moans.
then he’s sucking on your tongue, the rough pads of his fingers trickling up and down your sides, squeezing your ass and dragging you up to meet the carnivorous pace of his hips as they piston into you. you do your best to keep your eyes on him, despite the tears that pool in them, watching isagi devour you from below and his facade fall apart when his sticky tip catches on the hood of your swollen clit.
a wet patch from your naughty little pussy forms on the front of his sweat pants from just how much it drools and how much precum smears isagi smears against you. “where’s your fight precious? thought you wanted to tease me.” his limbs ache and muscles burn with desire as he works himself against you, panting into your open mouth and filling you with nothing but him. “c’mon… gimme somethin’, precious girl.”
he spits the words into your mouth, laughs as you clench around nothing and chase the delicious drag of his cock between your clothed folds. “mm… yo—!” but you can’t say anything, you can’t do anything because the way isagi talks down on you but grinds into you like he loves you is too embarrassing for you to bare. “s-stop, s’mm…it’s—“ you drawl all dreamy like, a familiar twist in your gut telling you that you’re close, that he’s pleasured you beyond what you can take and he’s not even touched you properly.
“you don’t want me to stop, baby. i know what you need,” isagi grunts as he sucks on your lower lip, takes it between rows of pearly whites and drags it away from you with a hooded stare, sapphire eyes sending you spiralling. his cock pulses against your sweltering pussy, soaks through your pants and drives you up the wall. “you want me t’get you there. you can cum like this, you’ve done it for me before…”
“i-i’ll do it again, please yoichi! ‘m…i-i’m,” you babble brainlessly, fingers finding his hair again and scratching at yoichi’s scalp the way he likes. in the way that started this whole ordeal— changing the path of your makeout from soft to sexy. “i’m close!”
all he does is grunt, shuddering under your touch, circling his hips until both of your eyes roll back. “i know precious. i know. i’ll get you there— make you c-cum, shit.”
and you’re about to burst, eyes drifting shut. you can feel it as you wrap your trembling thighs around isagi’s waist and match the way he grinds against you. your brain is muddled, dazed and fixated on his lips and the way he might sound when he shoots is load between your legs…but in an instant it all gone.
your eyes flutter open once again— revealing the monster you’ve made of yoichi isagi. his blue eyes delirious, his lips curled into a cruel smirk while your orgasm fades away and you whine out for him.
“thought i told you to keep looking at me,” he snarls wickedly, lifting his hips away from you, watching you pathetically chase the friction. “guess you don’t know how to listen, precious. that’s okay though, i’ll just have fuck you good ‘n proper... get inside you, fuck you up and make sure that i get it through your pretty little head. you only look at me.”
make-outs with isagi always start off soft and slow. but if you push the right buttons, his egoist always swoops in to fuck you right.
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The Only Exception
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Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader
Warnings: angst, minor fluff, canon typical violence, smut mndi (18+), Ghost thinks some dirty thoughts about you, masturbation, serious injuries
Words: 8.3k
Synopsis: You are the only exception to the rules Simon has...
Link to The Roommate Series Masterlist
You are currently reading Part 4 of The Roommate Series
(i ran out gifs to use so it's on to pictures)
The air was dry but still. It carried the sounds of gunfire within it, keeping the smell of gunpowder and blood stuck in one place, taking over any other senses as firefights ensued around the lone warehouse in the middle of nowhere. Bullets flew and screams echoed between the destroyed cars and the rubble from rogue grenades, creating a battlefield full of chaotic deadliness that should’ve been impossible to maneuver in.
Ghost took cover behind a humvee and listened to the bullets that ricocheted off the car while he reloaded his gun to get ready for his next attack. His mind was calm, focused on the plan of getting into the warehouse and securing the intel. He didn’t think about anything else but the mission and how to get his men out of this without losing any of them.
This was light work for him, stupidly easy that he wondered if he was put on this mission to get it done quickly or warm him up for a harder one down the line.
He killed a few enemies with quick precision and took a moment to look around for Soap, hoping that he would be available to execute one of the plans he had come up with.
His eyes landed on his sergeant a few feet from him hiding behind a car as well. Soap’s attention was on the warehouse, his gun pointed towards any enemies who showed themselves and shot them before they even had a chance to raise their weapons.
“I’ll get you an opening to the warehouse.” Ghost said into the comms to catch his attention. “Clear out as many as you can, then I’ll follow.”
“Copy, L.t.”
Ghost leaned out from the cover of the car and began to shoot at the enemies in the warehouse. He kept his sights on the men who weren’t under fire from the squad under his command and took it upon himself to get them out of the way. The bullets flew out of his gun and one by one, he watched the men in the windows of the warehouse disappear with a cry of pain as he shot them all with precision. 
From the corner of his eye, he saw Soap take the opportunity to run inside, and provided cover for his sergeant. He waited until he knew that the rest of the squad would be able to take care of the stragglers and rushed inside to follow Soap.
The sound of gunfire echoed in the halls and he followed it, seeking out the smell of gunpowder and copper in order to his teammate. He saw Soap duck behind a corner and reload his gun before he came up beside him, taking a moment to get his bearings of the situation to make a decision.
“How many?” He asked as a bullet clipped into the concrete wall.
“Four.”
Ghost glanced back the way he came and realized that the hallway looped around the building. He was lucky that the enemies had either forgotten about it or they’d be pumped full of bullets by now, but he didn’t care about that right now, not when he saw an opportunity to finish the mission.
He tapped Soap on his shoulder to get his attention and pointed towards the other side of the hallway.
“Head around and flank them, I’ll take this side.” He commanded and watched Soap rush around to cut them off from behind.
Ghost waited for a moment before he leaned out from behind the corner and fired, watching as two of them hit the floor. Before he could shoot the other two, they crumbled to the floor because of Soap and he scanned the rest of the hallway to make sure that there were any left. 
“Clear!” Soap called out and Ghost met him down the hall. “This the room?”
They stood in front of the only door in the hallway. Their intel was supposed to be inside where weapons dealers had stashed their information on a next deal, one that could have the potential to lead them to Makarov.
Ghost nodded and he took a spot next to the door with his gun ready, gesturing for Soap to do the same. He couldn’t hear any noise from behind the door but he knew better than to believe that it was empty.
He glanced at Soap before he kicked the door open and let Soap take the lead.
He followed in, shooting at anyone that Soap missed before everyone in the room had dropped to the floor in a puddle of their own blood. He commanded Soap to start searching for their intel and surveyed the room before he heard coughing.
Ghost looked down on the floor to see one of the enemies bleeding out but still alive. He watched him with indifference as the man struggled to pull out a gun to shoot him with it, his body already going weak from the bullet wounds.
The man glared at Ghost as he approached and spit the blood from his mouth at him.
“You’ll pay for this…” He wheezed and Ghost’s eyes narrowed.
Ghost didn’t say anything as he raised his gun and shot the man in the head. He stared at his body and the blood that gushed out onto the floor both of his wounds almost as if tunnel vision took him over. 
He stared at the man’s lifeless eyes and for a moment saw himself in the dead body.
~
The warehouse was far from Ghost’s mind as he stood in a field miles away from it with a cigarette between his fingers and his mind elsewhere. His eyes were distant as he stared at nothing. He could hardly pay attention to the thousands of crickets that chirped in the tall grass, the sounds mixing with his tinnitus that raged louder now that he was out of combat.
He was stuck in the darkest parts of his mind, unable to stop thinking about the images of death and blood that were sewed into his mind now that he didn’t have a distraction, now that he wasn’t killing anyone. The massive weight on his chest made it impossible to breathe and paired with the cigarette smoke he was suffocating, drawing out in the open air. 
And yet the cigarette was keeping him from losing it further, the habit being enough to keep some of his mind under control as he waited for evac. 
He wasn’t sure why this particular mission had done it for him after working for nearly two and half months now, but he was practically begging in his mind to be put on another one right away. He wished that instead of being picked up to go back to base, he was being picked up to go somewhere, to follow the next lead the intel got them. He didn’t want to stop and rest, he wanted to keep going, he wanted to get rid of the horrible feeling by ignoring it and pushing it down with work. It was a temporary solution to an issue he refused to acknowledge, one that he didn’t have to when he wore the mask.
“L.t.” Soap’s footsteps pushed the tall grass away from him as he walked up to Ghost, alerting his presence to his lieutenant who had taken watch while they waited. 
“Johnny.” Ghost replied back without looking away from the spot he was staring at.
Having Soap near him made his shoulder loosen just a bit, not enough to make any real difference to the tension in his muscles, but he felt like he could breathe just a bit more. He didn’t say anything for a long time, letting both of them stand in silence as the night drew on and more stars painted the sky.
Soap nudged his shoulder and he finally looked away from the spot.
Ghost blinked a few times as he stared at Soap. He studied his face, noting that his eyebrows were knitted together as he stared up at him with worried eyes that bounced around the false face he wore. They both stared at each other in silence, and Ghost narrowed his eyes a bit, almost as if to challenge Soap to say something.
Soap gestured to the cigarette in his hand and he clenched his jaw, a short huff escaping his chest before he handed it over.
“Don’t know what’s takin’ so long.” Soap puffed out smoke as he spoke. “Got us out here doin’ grunt work and now they’re taking the piss out of us.”
“We changed locations, so it’ll be a little longer.” Ghost scanned over the open field he stood in and looked in the direction of the warehouse as if he could see from this far away.
Soap groaned and handed the cigarette back to Ghost. He placed his hands on his lower back and stretched his hips forward with a scrunched up face as a loud pop resonated through the air.
“Wish there was a fuckin’ rock out here. I’m aching.” He complained and Ghost rolled his eyes even though he was feeling the same effects.
Ghost finished his cigarette and snuffed it out on the ground with hardened eyes. It had even been a minute and he was already craving another one. He was far too antsy to be standing out here waiting for a helicopter to only sit in it for hours. He was losing his mind over this feeling and his patience was wearing thin, especially since it had been stuck in the back of his mind since he had left home.
He just needed to get through this waiting period until they went back on another mission.
“Meant to ask,” Soap caught his attention and he looked at him. “That book in your vest pocket, is it a good read?”
Ghost blinked for a moment and placed his hand over the pocket, feeling the travel sized joke book that you had gotten for his birthday sitting snug inside of it. He had completely forgotten he had brought it with him, in fact, he wasn’t sure if he consciously made the choice to pack it with him. 
He pulled it out and looked down at it, the weight of it in his hand grounding him more than he thought it would’ve for such a small thing, and stared down at the cover with a clearer mind than before.
It had been a simple gift, but he still remembered the warm fuzzy feeling he had when he had unwrapped it. He had expected you to get him something like a pocket knife, something practical for him to use, but instead you gave him a book full of bad jokes because you knew he liked to make them. 
Ghost’s face softened underneath the mask.
“Not a bad read.” He held it out for Soap to take. “Especially when you’re bored.”
Soap took the book with a gleam in his eyes before his face fell when he read the cover. He gave Ghost an unimpressed look as his shoulder slumped with disappointment before he thumbed open the pages and skimmed the words.
“You’re the only guy I know to carry a joke book around on a battlefield.” He muttered with the shake of his head.
“What’s red and bad for your teeth?” Ghost glanced at Soap who raised an eyebrow. “A brick.”
“Is that in here?”
“Page twenty.”
“You even know the page number?”
Ghost wasn’t ashamed to admit that he had read the book front to back that he had memorized the entire thing by now. He could tell every joke on each page as confidently as he could shooting a gun. He practically spent the entire first week back on base with his nose stuck in it every night because everything about it reminded him of you.
His lips twitched underneath the mask as he watched Soap flip to the page. He watched as the Scot read with and then grunted with a twinkle in his eyes, clearly amused. It was a far cry from your reaction when he would tell you his jokes, but no one could ever replicate your laughter. 
He could almost hear it when he read the words on the page, he could almost imagine the way you scrunched up your face because you knew it was a bad joke but you couldn’t resist laughing and he couldn’t help but continue to make you laugh. Your laughter was quite literally music to his ears and he would give anything to hear it right now, to have you laugh at his stupid jokes instead of listening to the tinnitus in his ears.
A heavy feeling pushed on his chest and he clenched his jaw as his mind threatened to wander to you.
Ghost would have never thought he would be in this much agony over missing someone alive like this. He practically mourned you the same way he did when he thought a little too hard about his mother, and yet you were still alive, you were back at the flat going to class and living a normal civilian life. 
His heart ached every time he thought about you. Every time he saw your face behind his eyes, or thought about your smile, the way your eyes lit up with you saw him, he needed to take a few deep breaths to keep the tightness in his throat away. It only got worse when he remembered how you looked when he left two and half months ago,
The way your voice shook and how small you looked, how there were tears that threatened to fall from your beautiful eyes and the fact that you still gave him a smile even though he could see the way you were falling apart, as if you were trying to spare him your pain when you should’ve given him worse for making you feel that way.
He wondered if made things worse by kissing you because that kiss nearly broke his resolve. He had been so ready to call Price and tell him to fuck off for another week after he had felt your lips against his and after you had kissed him back.
It had been better than he had ever imagined. No one had ever kissed him with that much affection, with tenderness that had him breathless and wanting to get on his knees. He had never desired someone as much as you in a way that was more than just blowing off steam.
No, he desired you in a way that made him afraid and yet he couldn’t run away from you. He didn’t want to.
Ghost placed a hand over his heart and shut his eyes and he felt himself go breathless as the tightness in his chest worsened. He wishes it was your hand on his chest, calming him down and telling him that you were right there, that he wasn’t without you.
“Ghost?” Soap caught his attention and he opened his eyes to look at him.
Soap stared at him with worry written all over his face. It was a wonder how he could see what was going on with Ghost underneath the mask but Soap was like you in that he had somehow broken down his walls and waltzed inside. He knew Ghost too well and could tell when something was up even when there was an attempt to keep it hidden.
He looked into his eyes, blue meeting brown, and saw Simon in pain.
“You alright?”
Ghost knew he couldn’t lie to him, he was far too smart for any bullshit that he could come up with, and yet he couldn’t tell him the truth. He wouldn’t dare utter your name in a place like this for fear that maybe there was an enemy even if it was clear.
You didn’t belong in this kind of life.
Someone like you, happy and peaceful, didn’t belong in the context of anger and war. No one should know about you, it was too dangerous for anyone other than him to know about you, even if it was Soap, one of his closest friends. 
He opened his mouth to lie, hoping that maybe Soap would be too tired to try to figure out the truth when his ear piece crackled to life. He sighed with relief and averted his gaze from him as he listened to the pilot speak.
“Bravo 0-7, we’re about to land.” 
“Copy, we’re ready for you.”
Ghost looked up at the sky but heard the helicopter before he could see it. As much as he didn’t want to go back to base, he needed to get out of this conversation with Soap as quickly as he could before he pressed him any further. 
He took back the book when Soap handed it to him and he put it in his pocket, making sure that it was right over his heart as the helicopter came into view.
~
Ghost hadn’t looked up from his food since he and Soap had gotten back. He was back to feeling those awful feelings and this time it was worse because coupled with it was the intense feeling of your absence across from him. He didn’t hate his teammates but they weren’t you, they didn’t talk about normal stuff like you did, they didn’t make feel like he could be in that life again.
He bounced his leg on the ball of his foot in order to get out some of the energy that was stuck inside of him. He would’ve gone to the training room and worked out the rest of it until exhaustion but Price had asked him and Soap to eat with him while they debriefed on the mission.
He was hungry but he didn’t eat, he couldn’t when his stomach was weighed down with a pit.
“Simon?” Price’s voice cut through his thoughts and he looked at him from the corner of his eyes.
Price was looking at him expectantly under his intense gaze, his eyes staring through him as if he could read his mind. If anyone knew Ghost, knew Simon, it was Price and the old man made it clear any time the two of them spoke. He always looked at him as if he could see him, as if he saw the man that died years ago and not the facade he created so he could continue to live and work in the military. 
Ghost knew that Price had suspected something was wrong with him the moment he had walked off the heli. It was the captain’s job to know everything about his men, so of course he knew that Ghost was having a hard time, that he was practically going through the stages of grief without acceptance in sight. 
He could see him trying to figure it out as Gaz and Soap waited for him to say something. He didn’t hide it either, he wanted Ghost to know that he was searching for the cause so he could come up with a solution, he always let Ghost know that he was willing to help.
Ghost glanced at the others as he tried to remember what the conversation had been.
“The intel Soap and I got gives us an entire network of Russian weapons dealers.” He explained confidently without missing a beat. “We’d have to survey all of them in order to find the ones that could lead us to Makarov.”
“Easier said than done.” Gaz commented and Soap nodded.
“Makarov has his fingers everywhere.” Price gave Ghost one last look before turning and scratched his beard in thought. “Even if we find one that could get us closer to him, it’s only a small step.”
Ghost felt the weight of his words settle on him and he watched as everyone else realized what it meant as well. 
Longer missions, more time spent away from home, more time risking their lives to get a fraction of what they wanted. This job wasn’t easy and everyone knew that to get the results they wanted, it would take time, but this entire mission of finding Makarov consisted of lesser missions that slowly broke down their stamina. That was most likely the point that Makarov wanted to make, to show them that he was always one step ahead of them, but Ghost never knew Price to be a quitter.
In the past, Ghost could live with it, but now that he had someone waiting for him, now that you were waiting for him, he hated how long this was going to take.
“Well we’ve talked enough about this for now.” Price grunted as he finished his food and stood up. “Get some rest, it’s late. Take a break tomorrow.”
He clapped a hand on Simon’s shoulder. Quick but with a comforting squeeze and a smile before he left the common room with his plate, taking most of the heavy weight of work with him. 
The three of them didn’t wait to get up and leave as well, finding that they were more tired than hungry. They all said their quick goodnights before they went to their rooms, not to be seen until in the morning when their bodies decided to wake them up.
Ghost entered his room and tried to ignore the fact that he was still feeling everything he didn’t want to. He was feeling the weeks worth of strain on his body and in his mind, the images of killing men just because they were in his way and then the extreme loneliness that he felt as he remembered that this wasn’t his room in his flat and you weren’t just across the hall from him.
He sluggishly began to take all of his gear off, throwing it haphazardly on the floor because he couldn’t find the energy to care about putting it away neatly. He stripped his clothes and boots off as he made his way to the bathroom, keeping his eyes on the floor so he didn’t have to look at himself in the mirror.
Even with the mask on he was sure if he looked in the mirror right now he’d break it. He didn’t want to see whoever was going to look back at him, he couldn’t look at Ghost because he wasn't able to suppress these feelings and he didn’t want to see Simon in such a horrible state.
It wasn’t until he stepped in the shower with the water running did he throw his mask on the bathroom floor. 
The hot water ran off his skin as he stood in it. He let it burn into the sweat and grime that had built up, he let it chip away at these feelings as he focused on trying to ground himself with the heat. He hoped that the shower would take it all away as if it would clean the wounds that weren’t physical, as if it would wash out all of the bad that was stuck inside of his head.
Even as the water slowly washed the heavy weight in his chest away, he couldn’t help but think about you as if he lathered soap across his body.
He wondered about what you’d been doing these past two and half months. Did you take your exam? Did you pass it? Have you been taking care of yourself and rewatching your show?
Had you gone to the festival you talked about, the one where he had planned to finally ask you out on a date but you had fallen asleep on him before he could gather the courage to do it? In hindsight, he was glad you had fallen asleep because it would be much worse for both of you if he had.
Did you miss him as much as he missed you? He knew you missed him, he saw it, but he couldn’t help but think that maybe you didn’t. Maybe you were okay with him being gone, maybe you liked him being gone because he was so much of a drag compared to you. 
All of these questions raced in his mind as he stepped out of the shower and dried himself off. 
He longed to hear your voice to tell him, he desperately wanted to know what you were doing right now, what you’ve done without him. He wanted to know that you were okay and that he hadn’t hurt you too much because of how he left. He needed to make sure that you hadn’t cried yourself to sleep because he would never forgive himself if that were the case.
Ghost knew that he could ask you. He eyed the burner phone that sat on his desk as he got dressed as if it had personally offended him for existing. 
He could call you if he really wanted to know, but he had never done it before. It wasn’t that he hadn’t missed you before, he often found himself feeling this way when he was back in his room on base, but he had always told himself that calling you while he was away would be worse. It reminds him of what he’s missing out on, reminds him that this was his choice to leave you for months and that he had no excuse to treat you like this.
He sat on his bed and continued to eye the phone before he turned his attention to the birthday card beside it. He had made sure to take it and the polaroid you gave him before he left, something he had never done before.
There had been no point in taking sentimental things with him and it could potentially be dangerous, and yet he couldn’t part with it when he was packing. 
Ghost grabbed the card and took the polaroid out of it. He committed the look on your face to memory and traced you with his eyes as if this were the first time he had ever seen you before. He looked at your smile and the way you leaned into him, he looked into your bright eyes and found himself letting out a deep breath.
Even if it was a picture, he was still stunned by your beauty. He couldn’t get over how you practically glowed when you entered the room. It didn’t matter what you wore or what you looked like, you were absolutely divine. 
Looking at you made the weight in his chest get worse and against his better judgement, he picked up the burner phone. 
His fingers hit your number before he could even think and he froze from the panic that struck him as he heard the phone start to ring. He didn’t know whether he should hang up before it connected or if he should let it ring and hope that you wouldn’t pick it up. 
He stared at the screen with wide eyes as it rang and when the line connected he put it against his ear.
“Hey…”
Your voice was hoarse, heavy with sleep and he mentally kicked himself for being stupid enough to call you at this hour. Of course you had been asleep, it was late and he was sure that today was a week day which meant you had class in the morning. 
“Did I wake you up?” He asked, knowing the answer but it was the only thing that could come out of his mouth as he heard your voice for the first time in months.
“No…I was studying.” You lied, a yawn cutting through your words which betrayed you.
Ghost pressed his lips together and gripped his sweatpants. He wasn’t sure what else to say and as much as he liked hearing from you again, he realized that he was in no state to talk to you right now. His mind was far too dark and busy for him to give you the same kind of softness that you were used to since that’s all he wanted you to see him as. 
Soft, tender, not a man who has killed others in cold blood. A man worthy of your affection and your attention who you hopefully assumed was better than that.
“Is everything okay, Simon?” You wondered, your voice slowly losing its sleep.
His breath hitched in his throat as you said his name and he swallowed hard. You were over the phone and you still somehow broke through his walls. You somehow calmed his nerves down and steadied his mind even though he was miles away from you.
“Want me to check the doors?” You offered as you assumed he had called you for any other reason than to just hear you.
But you did bring up a good point. He wasn’t there to check the doors and the windows, making sure that the entire flat was locked down to keep you safe. He wasn’t there to look outside of the windows at least three times before he went to bed, trying to discern if a bush was somebody or not, or to do a quick sweep around the perimeter of the flat to see if someone had planted anything.
He had an entire routine set out that he did every night that he couldn’t do now that he was gone. He clenched his jaw and felt his nerves slowly start to work themselves up again as it truly hit him that you were in the flat alone. 
Someone could be outside waiting until you went back to sleep to break in and hurt you. Someone could kidnap you or rob the flat, leaving you for dead. There were so many scenarios running through his head that he almost found it hard to breathe.
He wasn’t there to protect you if something happened.
“Yes.” His voice was strained and he hoped that you couldn’t hear it over the phone.
Heard you move out of bed from the other side of the phone and he held his breath, waiting for the moment he heard you scream about someone being inside waiting to attack you. It played out in his brain so vividly that he gripped his sweatpants tightly as he listened to your silence.
“That’s the front door.” You said after he heard the heavy click of the lock. He heard another click from the other door. “This is the back.”
It wasn’t enough. Not enough to keep him from thinking that you were still in immediate danger.
“The windows?”
“Not opened and locked.”
Now he was stuck in his routine. He was going through his mental checklist of what else had to be looked at or thought about. He wasn’t there to do it the way he liked, to be as thorough as possible and to make sure that not even a blade of grass was out of place, but your attempt would have to do.
“Anyone been in the flat?” He asked, almost demanded, as he worried that maybe someone bad had planted something inside to spy on you.
“One of my friends, but I was with her the entire time.” You assured him, your voice still calm and kind.
It still wasn’t enough.There was a possibility that an old enemy of his could still break in and attack you, kill you or worse, and he’d be alone again. It would be like his family, he would be too late to save you and it would be his fault.
“Do you remember where I keep my gun?” He asked, knowing that you didn’t know how to use it but hopefully you wouldn’t have to.
“Yes-”
“My knife?”
“Yeah-”
“Can you-”
“Hey.” Your soft voice stopped him from continuing. “I’m okay, no one is going to hurt me.”
Ghost wanted to argue that it was impossible for you to know that, impossible for you to be so sure that you wouldn’t have to use weapons to save yourself. There was always the possibility that you would be in danger because you knew him, you lived with him and if the wrong person found out you’d be dead because of him.
He couldn’t believe you. He just couldn’t, not when he wasn’t there to see it for himself, to hold you as if he could protect you with his body, to be the one that would take the brunt of everything harmful that came your way. 
He trusted you but he couldn’t trust the world.
“Are you sure?” His voice was low and smaller than what either of you were used to and it made him clench his jaw.
“I promise.” You assured him and though you weren’t there to touch him, to hold him, it was like he could feel you.
Ghost took a deep breath and shut his eyes in an attempt to calm himself down. He was shaky and he couldn’t get rid of the pit in his stomach as he listened to you move around the flat on the other side of the phone. He regretted calling you even if hearing your voice was the only thing he wanted to hear.
“Did you take your exam?” He leveled his voice and hoped you would humor him even though it was late.
“Got a ninety on it.” You said proudly and he could see the smile on your face.
He couldn’t help but smile as well. He knew you would’ve and he hadn’t understood why you had been so upset about it before he left, he knew how smart you were, but that didn’t make him feel any less proud of you either. Especially when you had gotten such a high grade when he was sure he most likely would’ve flunked out of university far before you.
“Atta girl.”
You giggled on the other side of the phone and he slowly felt himself unraveling from your voice. He was starting to feel more like Simon again, starting to feel like someone who was worthy of speaking to you like this as if it were normal.
He hoped that you felt the same about him. He hoped that you weren’t upset that he had woken you up and that you liked talking to him over the phone like this.
“How was the festival?” He wondered.
“I didn’t end up going.” You told him, not sounding disappointed about it but he knew that you probably were.
“Oh.”
That’s all he could say. He didn’t want to think that you didn’t go because of him but he knew better than to believe that.
“Can I ask you a question?” You sounded a little unsure and it made him swallow hard as he hummed for you to continue. “Why’d you kiss me?”
Ghost’s eyebrows knitted together and he stared at the floor with narrowed eyes. That was definitely not the question he thought you would ask and he wasn’t entirely sure how to answer it since to him it seemed like it was common sense.
Why wouldn’t he kiss you? He liked you, a lot, probably a lot more than what he wanted to admit right now so it only made sense for him to kiss you. He couldn’t necessarily tell you how he felt so he thought that a kiss would’ve been enough for him to get his point across.
Then again, he wasn’t exactly the right person to have an opinion about these sorts of things. 
“Do I need a reason?” He genuinely wanted to know, especially if it meant that he had messed up his chance with you.
“I…there has to be a reason.” You sounded surprised and he frowned.
“I wanted to kiss you so I kissed you.”
You went silent over the phone and he held his breath waiting for you to say something. He hoped that your silence didn’t mean that you were disgusted by him or that he had completely misread the situation. He wished he could just tell you outright how he felt but the words wouldn’t leave his throat and would always strangle him until he gave up.
“I miss you.” Your voice was small and weak as if you were fighting back tears.
Ghost’s heart ached and he clenched his jaw. He was reminded of your sad face again and he shut his eyes as regret washed over him.
“I miss you too.” He said against his better judgement. 
He wasn’t lying. He missed you, he missed you so fucking bad that he could hardly sleep without thinking of you and it hurt. It hurt being away from you and he wasn’t sure it would ever go away, even as the years would go by and the two of you continued to know each other.
Ghost meant it when he thought about how you’ve ruined him.
You sniffled on the other side of the phone and he felt his heart break. He wanted nothing more than to be there and hold you, to make up for the fact that he had made you cry. He wished you were in his arms so you could hear his heart beat for you while he took away any of the pain you felt.
“You have to come back.” You pleaded with a shaky voice and his eyes hardened.
“I’ll come back.” He said firmly, as if there was no other option.
“I know you can’t ask you about anything but please be safe. I can’t…you just have to come back home.”
Ghost felt his throat tighten up and he sighed. This was the reason why he had never called you before tonight, he didn’t want to risk making you upset by breaking the standard that once he was gone, neither of you were to hear from each other until he came back. It made it easier to keep his work separate and to keep you safe from the pain he could cause you.
He had to stop this before it got even worse. He couldn’t continue to make you feel this way and make you cry because of his selfishness.
“I have to go.” He lied and he heard you sniffle again. 
“Just a little longer?” You pleaded but he was somehow strong enough to resist you.
“No. Get some sleep, yeah?”
You sighed and he stopped himself from thinking about how upset you were, the tears in your eyes and how alone you probably felt now that he was going to hang up on you.
“You too, okay?”
“Yeah.”
Ghost didn’t hesitate the end call as much as he wanted to and immediately placed his hands over his face. Hearing you had calmed him down significantly in that his nerves were no longer raging about work but he now felt the punch of extreme loneliness hit him in the gut, which didn’t really help him with how on edge he had been since the mission. 
He huffed and laid back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling as he set the phone back on his desk. 
He couldn’t stop thinking about how he was supposed to be there with you. How he could calm you down and wipe away your tears by telling you he was there. He should be holding you to his chest, he should be in bed with you making things better instead of making you cry.
Heat washed over him and he shifted his hips on his bed as he thought how he could make it up to you, showing you just how sorry he was for making you feel this way.
This wasn’t the best time to be thinking these kinds of thoughts and he felt a little guilty about it, but he couldn’t control his mind today. He was stressed, pent-up from so many different emotions that at this point, this was the only thing that could probably get him to calm down.
Ghost placed a hand on his lower stomach but didn’t go any further. It felt wrong to touch himself and think about you, he often felt shame because of it, but this certainly wasn’t the first he had thought about making you feel good.
He imagined holding you in bed and kissing you everywhere you’d let him. He’d run his hands across your body and massage his fingers into your muscles in an attempt to relax you. He would try his hardest to pull the sadness out from you while he showed you how much he truly loved you.
His hand traveled over his growing erection and he let out a long sigh as the weight from his palm made him twitch. He palmed himself through his pants and sunk into his mattress, the loneliness slowly being overtaken by the neediness he often felt for you when he laid in bed.
He’d do the same to you. He’d let his hands travel between your legs and slip his fingers past your shorts to feel the heat that gathered there. He’d push his fingers through your slick folds, gathering all of the wet desire to rub your clit nice and slow.
“Fuck…” His breathing got quicker and he shut his eyes at the thought.
You’d be wet as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear and he’d drag his lips up your neck, leaving hot kisses that would burn into your skin. You’d push back into him and buck your hips into his hand as he made you a promise that he’d make it all better.
Ghost pushed his pants and briefs down until his hard cock sprung free, letting his sigh with relief, before he wrapped a hand over his shaft. He groaned as he stroked himself, feeling breathless from just his hand as he thought about the sounds you’d make.
You’d moan his name in that sweet tone of yours, which made his cock twitch in his hand, and hold his hand. You’d be out of breath as he would slip a finger inside of you and work against that spot in your walls that would have you falling back into him with a whine. 
“Simon…” You cry and it would make him push his fingers in as far as he could.
Ghost quickened his pace and bit his bottom lip. He imagined that his hand was your walls gripping around him as he slipped his cock inside of you. He squeezed his hand and bucked his hips into the air wishing that you were there on him. He was sure he probably couldn’t fit all of himself inside of you and the thought excited him as he spread pre-cum all over his hand, wishing that it was inside of you instead. 
He chasing your high as you’d tighten around him, begging him to keep going as he fucked you closer to your orgasm.
“You feel so good!” You’d cry and move your hips with his. “So good, you’re so good.”
He whined and stroked himself fast. He shut his eyes and pretended that you were here, using his cock in any way you wanted to in order to make yourself feel better. He would fuck into you, ready to please you so he could make it all better, ready to be good for you so he didn’t make you cry anymore. 
He wanted you to praise him, he needed you to do it. He needed to know that he was doing a good job, that he was good enough to be fucking you until you cummed on his cock more than once. 
He needed to be good for you.
“Don’t stop! Please, Simon, I need you.” You’d beg but he would give his entire being to you if you ask.
Ghost moaned and felt the band of pleasure tighten as he quickened his pace, letting the whines and whimpers fall from his mouth. He’d bury his face in your neck and kiss you, he’d thank you for the praise by slamming his cock as hard as he could into that spot that would have your toes curling. 
He thought about how you would shake on his cock and how your moans would be cut off as you fluttered around him. Your eyes would roll back as he continued to pound into you, unable to say anything as the intense pleasure took over. The pleasure he gave you.
Hot cum spurted into his hand. It ran down his cock as he continued to stroke himself at a fast pace through his orgasm, not wanting the pleasure coursing through his veins to stop. He didn’t care as overstimulation hit him, he continued to stroke himself at the thought of making you happy and making you feel good. 
A whimper escaped his mouth was cut off in his throat as the feeling of his hand became too much but he didn’t stop.
Ghost was tired but he couldn’t stop thinking about you.
~
Ghost grunted when the but of a gun was slammed into his face. He was knocked into the wall of the crumbling building as blood soaked his mask but he quickly threw a punch at the enemy in front of him.
He grabbed the gun and with all of his strength, slammed it into the man’s nose with enough force that he heard it crack. He didn’t waste any time kicking the man in the knee, hearing it pop as well, before he pulled out his pistol and shot the man three times in the chest. 
As the man’s body crumpled to the ground, Ghost picked up his weapon and raced towards the exit.
His head pounded from repeated blows to it and he was sure that a few of his ribs were fractured from the pain he felt in his chest every time he took a breath. He didn’t pay any attention to the pain as he kept the gun secured tightly in his hands.
The sound of gunshots outside mixed with the ones inside the building and it was hard for him to know where the enemies were or weren’t. This mission wasn’t like the regular chaos on the battlefield, this was a dangerous mess that could result in the death of one or more of them if they didn’t pull back. 
“Simon, where are you?” Price’s voice came in through his ear piece and his eyes narrowed. “We need to leave!”
“Almost there-”
Ghost was cut off as he was tackled to the floor. The back of his head smacked against the concrete but he didn’t have time to feel the pain as he fought against his attacker who straddled him.
He slammed his punches up at the man and hit as hard as he could. He tried to avoid any of the punches that were thrown at him but he was no longer fighting with his training, he was fighting out of pure adrenaline and the desire to survive. 
The man pulled out a knife and tried to plunge it into Ghost’s chest but he quickly grabbed his wrist, using all of his strength to push it away from him.
Ghost jabbed his fingers into the man's ribs as hard as he could and managed to gain the upperhand in the fight. He shoved the man off of him before he climbed on top of him, punching him as hard as he could before he reached for a gun to end the fight.
The air was knocked out of Ghost’s lungs when the man stabbed the knife into his side at a force that felt like he had been hit by a car. Pain rippled up through his body and he suppressed a scream as he broke the man’s wrist that held the knife, continuing his barrage of punches. 
He took the knife out of his side and plunged it into the man's throat. He watched him choke on his own blood with bloodlust until the man went limp.
Ghost felt lightheaded as he struggled to breathe. He could feel the blood gushing out of his side at an alarming speed that not even his hand could stop as he pressed it firmly on his side. He clenched his jaw tightly, suppressing a wince as he crawled off the dead body and stayed on the floor on his hands and knees.
His legs felt weak, almost numb as he tried his hardest to stand but he couldn’t get up. He began to crawl, an attempt to make it to the exit still as he knew he needed to get out of there, and left a trail of his blood behind.
The sounds of gunfire sounded far away in his ears, the voices of his team sounded as if they were speaking to him from the other side of a tunnel.
He could barely crawl across the floor and when he nearly collapsed, he decided to stop and sit against one of the walls. 
He felt cold, unnaturally cold as he looked down at his side and saw the growing red stain on his jacket. He grimaced from the pain and leaned his sore head against the wall as his eyelids started to get heavy as he mumbled something into the comms, unable to really understand the words that came out of his mouth.
“I’m coming!” Gaz yelled in his ear but he didn’t reply. 
Ghost blinked slowly as he stared up at the ceiling. The last thoughts he had were of you and your smile. He thought about the way you would hold onto him when you hugged him and the warmth you gave him every time. The way you always seemed so happy to see him and how you always treated him with softness that made him feel safe. 
He wanted to see you again. He wanted you to fall asleep on him again and he wanted to kiss you like he loved you because he did. He wanted to do everything he used to do with you just one more time but he couldn’t move.
Your name slipped from his mouth as if he were calling to you. As if you would come and take him into your arms one last time.
He heard Gaz call out his name from the room he was in but he didn’t have the energy to keep his head up anymore as his vision went black and he couldn’t feel anything anymore.
Link to part 5
A/N: Figured I would make it up to you guys with smut since I was mean last chapter, expect more angst and smut later on >:) Also ignore the bad action scenes I didn't put that much effort into them since they weren't what the story was about
(don't worry he's not dead I promise)
The tag list is closed!! I am so happy that so many of you want to be tagged for this story but I will not be accepting anymore requests to tag people in this series since this list has gotten long and it's hard to keep track of how many I have to add! Sorry for the inconvenience!
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