#i? think i meant Ghost Written
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girl help i. what if i miss season 14 so much that i cried watching the new episode what if my eyes are intrinsically searching for my daya my boscy my willow and im feeling like an abandoned puppy when i can’t find them !!!! what if my chest actually hurts !!!! what if i’ll never be able to move on from season 14 because it changed my life and showed me joy that nothing ever has !!!!! what if it genuinely feels like i’m losing a part of myself !!!!! huh what THEN !!!!!
#what then is…….i cry in my bed#i watch s14 edits and i go through my archives and i hope i’m gifted a time machine so i can go live it all over again#dash is dead im sadposting#anyway happy season 15 premier day (it was yesterday)#this is a collaborative post co written by ashie dayabot because we’ve been cry texting about this for some time now#we’re approaching hour two#i? think i meant Ghost Written#don’t perceive this post thanks#i’ve posted like 5000 disgusting things about daya willow and boscy and yet this is definitely the most vulnerable post i’ve made ever
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Regrets and Lost Love.
Vox climbed over fallen rocks and bricks. He had come here to gloat over his nemesis, but this was getting ridiculous.
“The things I do…” He grumbles.
He brushes some dirt off his pants, and pulls himself up to the ruined radio tower. The ladder is a little rickety, but it’s usable.
“Alastor?” He calls out. “Are you up here?”
Nothing answers Vox. He sighs loudly. “You can’t hide! You fucking loser!”
A pained groan sounds from behind him. Vox whips around to see Alastor, huddled in a corner with his arms clutched around his chest.
“Alastor?!” Vox kneels next to the demon.
Alastor hisses at him as his ears pin back. “What are you doing here, Vox-“ His voice sounded odd without the radio filter, “-come to gloat?”
Vox hesitated for just a second- but that was more than enough for Alastor to catch on.
Alastor starts to chuckle, then cackle, but he’s cut off by a wet cough. Blood drips from his mouth and his sclera bleeds black.
“…Al?” Vox says. “Wait-“
Vox sighs frustratedly and scribbles out his words. The bar where he sat was dimly lit, and his seat was beginning to feel uncomfortable. Alastor, humming softly, was sitting on the couch and twirling his staff that Vox had commissioned from Rosie a few weeks ago.
“Would you like to dance?” Alastor asks out of nowhere.
“I- what?” Vox looks up from his work.
Alastor snaps his fingers, and soft music plays from the candy apple red radio. “Would you like to dance?” He repeats.
Vox fights down a blush. “I-I don’t know how to,” The demon admits.
Alastor hums. “That’s alright, I can teach you.” He offers a hand to Vox, who accepts.
Alastor guides one of Vox’s hands to his waist. Alastor puts his hand up on Vox’s shoulder. The tv demon, knowing this part, clasps their hands together.
“Uh…what do we do now…?” Vox asks.
“Step to the left,” Alastor instructs. “Then, cross your right foot over it.”
Vox focuses on Alastor’s feet and matches the steps.
“Once more.”
Alastor’s ears flick against the screen of Vox’s head. “Okay, now reverse.”
Eventually, Vox gets the hang of it. They step in time to the music, and Vox leads them in a slow circle.
…Two hearts connected by one beat…
…Your hand in mine and…
Sweet guitar fills the room. Alastor leans his head on Vox’s chest and moves his hands so they cup the back of Vox’s neck. Vox cradles the smaller demon in his arms.
“I could never choose to love another…” Vox softly sings the closing lines of the song.
“Maybe one day I could’ve learned to love you too.” Alastor smiles, a real smile. Vox had learned to tell the difference a long time ago. Alastor’s real smile was soft. It wasn’t like the pasted-on grin the world saw.
“No, no, no! Please!” Vox pleads, but he knows it is far too late.
The light faded from his love’s eyes and Alastor slumped against the wall. His lifeless eyes stared past Vox, and the hand Vox held fell limp.
Vox sobs, the mockery of tears filling his screen. “Please…” He cries, to no avail. There is no one to hear his words.
Vox’s heart shatters into a million shards of blood and tears and glass. He mourns for the love he almost had, for the loss of the person closest to his heart, for his one true constant in this hellscape.
He gently closes Alastor’s eyes. Now it seems as though the demon is just sleeping- no. Alastor never looked this peaceful when he slept.
Vox slides his arms underneath Alastor’s cooling body and stands. He teleports out of the ruined tower and walks through the rubble to the Morningstars and their friends. The princess is hugging her girlfriend while the porn star and the cat share a hug as well. Lucifer stands to the side.
Charlie- that’s her name right?- turns around and spots Vox.
“Vox?!” She stands in front of him, looking lost as she stares at Alastor’s bloodied body. “Wh…what happened? Did you do this?”
Vox shakes his head frantically. “I-I would never! He was in his tower…I guess Adam hit him harder than we thought. He…he bled out.”
Tears gather at the edges of Charlie’s eyes. “No…”
Vaggie runs to her girlfriend’s side. “Charlie- oh…”
One by one, the group gathers around Vox and Alastor. Charlie hides her face in Vaggie’s arms. Husker looks conflicted while Nifty full-on sobs.
“I’m sorry,” Vox says.
“What were his last words?” Charlie asks softly.
“I couldn’t hear what he said,” Vox lies. “He was…coughing up a lot of blood.”
Charlie cries harder, soaking Vaggie’s shoulder.
~~~~~~~~
The dark red coffin is slowly lowered into the ground with Lucifer’s magic. Charlie sniffles softly, and even Angel has to turn away.
Vox stands a little separate from the group and watches Lucifer use his magic to fill the grave with dirt.
Slowly, the other members leave the small courtyard, with Vaggie leading her girlfriend away, and Husk scooping up Nifty and leaving with Angel. Eventually, only Lucifer and Vox are left at the grave’s side.
Lucifer slips by Vox with a low whisper of, “Don’t stay for too long. It’ll hurt more.”
Vox doesn’t respond, instead choosing to stare at the tombstone.
It was carved out of granite to look like an old radio.
Alastor
“I could never choose to love another; maybe one day I could learn to love you too.” - We Become We
Vox had chosen the inscription himself, though it took many tries to get a readable version.
He knelt by the grave.
“Hey.” God, he sounded so stupid. But this was the only way to get closure. He would never find closure. It hurt too much. “I miss you. I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.”
He placed the broken staff and a few flowers. A pink carnation, a cyclamen, a purple hyacinth, and a sprig of rosemary.
Vox stands and brushes off his coat. He stares down at the freshly turned dirt and flowers.
“I love you,” He whispers. “I’m sorry.”
~~~~~~~~
#ficlet#fanfiction#hazbin art#hazbin hotel#hazbin lucifer#hazbin alastor#hazbin angel dust#hazbin hotel charlie#hazbin hotel husk#hazbin hotel niffty#hazbin hotel vox#hazbin hotel vaggie#so many tags#staticradio#radiostatic#alastor the radio demon#brain: THIS IS CRINGE#me: I KNOW#brain: THEN WHY ARE YOU WRITING TI#me: BECAUSE IM SAD (THATS YOUR FAULT BY THE WAY)#brain: that's fair bUT ITS NOT CANON#me: ITS A FANFIC ITS NOT MEANT TO BE CANON#brain: ITS OOC#me: AGAIN ITS A FANFIC#brain: WHAT WILL YOUR FRIENDS THINK#me: ONE#THEY PROBABLY WONT SEE THIS#AND TWO#THEYVE READ MY DP FICS WHERE I TORTURE A LITTLE GHOST#FOR CHRIST'S SAKE IVE WRITTEN A GEN LOSS FIC THAT THEY READ
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ghostie
🌙 staring. Johnny x afab!Reader
🔮 preview. As one am rolls around, you start to realize that maybe tonight you won’t get a call. He is a frat boy, and this is Halloween weekend. You’re disappointed as you get into bed, frowning as you scroll on your phone, hoping that if you wait another five minutes, maybe he’ll catch you. Five minutes turns into ten, turns into fifteen, and you find your eyes beginning to shut. You’re starting to understand how much you truly have come to depend on Ghostie as part of your nightly ritual. It hurts not to get a call from your favourite voice-modulated anonymous frat boy.
tw/cw. yandere/stalker subthemes, unknown caller, weed use, multiple reader orgasms, big dick!Johnny, oral, pussy eating, blowjob, deep throating, spit as lube, fingering, hand riding, dacryphilia, praise, dirty talk, cum/fullness kink, unprotected sex, heavy grinding, dick bulge, creampie, rough groping, slight restraint, size kink, submissive reader, subspace, dumbification, hair pulling, finger sucking, etc… I pet names: (hers) Tiny, good girl, pretty girl. (his) Ghostie.
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 15k
🍭 aus. uni/frat au, yandere subthemes, Halloween, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. this might just be the best John fic I've ever written, or maybe I just need therapy
Sunday
You pause your movie when your phone rings and you look down at the screen. The number is unknown, and you briefly consider not even answering it. However, you’ve had two job interviews in the past week, and you don’t want to miss any opportunities, so with a sigh, you bring your phone to your ear.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Tiny, how’s your night going?”
Definitely not a prospective employer. Your sorority gave you the name Tiny during first year, something to do with the ‘tiny’ shots you always want to take, and only those within the Greek system use it on you. On top of the Greek-specific term of endearment, the man on the other end of the line is using a voice modulator of some sort, and it makes it impossible for you to identify him.
Your curiosity is sparked.
“Who is this?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
You sigh, leaning back against your bed and setting your laptop to the side. “I get that Scream is having a comeback, but this whole ‘calling a girl and being mysterious’ thing won’t get you laid anytime soon.”
“Are you sure about that?” You can hear a hint of laughter in the man’s voice.
“If you’re not going to tell me who you are, I’ll hang up.”
“We wouldn’t want that, now would we?” There’s a pause then, “Let’s just say, a mutual friend gave me your number. They thought we’d hit it off.”
“Whoever this ungendered mutual friend is, I doubt they expected you to call me with a voice modulator and act out a Ghost Face fantasy. I get that Halloween is a week away, but come on… you can’t be serious about this.”
“I am serious. Come on Tiny, live a little.”
“You’re awfully sure of yourself, aren’t you, Mister Ghost Face.”
“I’ve got good reason to be, trust me on that.”
You let out a deep sigh, going through your roster of men who might think this sort of thing would be funny. “Yunho? Is this you getting high again?”
“Wrong frat, but good guess. I didn’t know Alpha Tappa Zeta’s star quarterback was a stoner, thanks for the info, Tiny.”
“Shit,” you mutter to yourself. You hadn’t meant to throw Yunho under the bus like that.
“It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone about his… habits. That would be hypocritical of me.”
You search your mind for the stoners you know. Ones who would have the balls to call you like this.
“Do you want to take another guess? I’ll give you three chances. You have two more.”
Aside from ATZ, you spend a lot of time with Sigma Veta Tau. Soonyoung is a well-known blunt roller in the fraternity system, but he wouldn’t do a charade like this. He’s very open about hitting on you any time you’re at one of his parties.
“Jeonghan?” you ask.
“Last guess, Tiny.”
He doesn’t confirm or deny if you’ve gotten the frat right, but you can’t really see any other SVT members who would fit this mysterious man’s profile.
Your mind wanders to Nu Chi Theta. They’ve got quite a few weed lovers there, and you’ve been invited into many closed-room smoke sessions with the dirty NCT boys.
There’s Yuta, and he’d definitely have the gall to entertain a flirtation like this. However, you don’t know of any mutual friends who would ever set you up with him. With another sigh of irritation, you throw out the last name on your shortlist of stoner acquaintances.
“Hyuck? Please tell me this isn’t you.”
“Close but no cigar.”
“I don’t like this game.”
“You’re not supposed to like it, but it is entertaining, don’t you think?”
“What’s your angle with all of this?” you question. “If you’re not going to tell me who you are, then what’s the point of calling?”
The line is silent for a few moments. “I guess… I just wanted to talk to you a little, is that so bad?”
Your heart softens, if only momentarily. “Then grow some balls and ask me out like a real man.”
“Where would be the fun in that?” The mystery man lets out a short chuckle, and your irritation only grows.
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re really annoying?”
“A few times actually.”
“Well, you’re the most annoying person I’ve ever met and I haven’t even met you.”
“Yes, you have.”
“God, I’m tired of this. Goodnight.”
You don’t even wait for an answer, you simply hang up.
Despite trying to get back to your movie, you can’t get the mystery man out of your head. When you go to bed you can’t even sleep, your mind completely full of all the possibilities of who your caller could have been.
You’ll have to do some digging tomorrow. You can’t not figure out who this guy is- and you know just the fratboy to give you all the details you could need.
Monday
Mark Lee is always fifteen minutes early, even when it comes to an 8am class. You feel like shit after tossing and turning all night, so when you slide into the seat next to him in the back of the class, he gives you a once over and his lips part in shock.
“Are you okay?”
“No, Mark, I’m not okay,” you snap, regretting it a moment later- after all, Mark’s not the one doing this to you. “Someone called me from an unknown number last night. A frat guy, I’m not sure who. He was using this voice modulator-”
“That sounds hella sketchy.”
“Super sketchy,” you agree.
“I know it’s October and everything, but that’s a weird way to hit on a girl.”
“That’s what I said!” Mark always understands you. “He said a mutual friend gave him my number, thought we’d be cute together or something- whoever it was, I need to strangle them.”
“Is this friend a girl or a guy?”
“Mystery man wouldn’t tell me,” you groan.
“So… this dude could be literally anyone.”
“Not Yunho from Alpha Tappa Zeta, Jeonghan from Sigma Veta Tau, and not your roommate Hyuck. The guy gave me three guesses,” you explain, “the hint is that he’s a stoner.”
“Lots of frat guys are stoners.”
“Exactly,” you sigh, leaning back in your seat.
“What are you going to do if he calls you again?” Mark asks. “This kind of feels like stalker behavior.”
“It does,” you admit. “But at the same time, he calls me Tiny, and he says we’ve met before- when I asked what he even got out of the phonecall he said he just wanted to ‘talk to me a little,’ which, I don’t know, for some reason I feel like he’s not a stalker.”
Mark gives you a look that says ‘You’re crazy,’ and after listening to everything that just spewed out of your own mouth, maybe you kind of agree with him.
“So if he calls you again…” Mark reasks his earlier question, one you’d chosen to ignore.
But you can’t ignore it now, and you let out a deep breath.
“If he calls again… We’ll see what happens.”
“Tiny-”
“Mark,” you counter, knowing he’s about to chastise you. But you don’t want to hear it. If even he doesn’t have any idea of who your mystery caller could be, you simply can’t give up. If you never find out who this ‘Ghost Face’ dude is, you’ll feel unsolved for the rest of your life and you know it.
“Look, I’ll ask around a little,” Mark concedes.
You let out a squeal of delight, throwing your arms around your closet fratboy friend. He lets out a chuckle, gently squeezing you back.
Mark’s a good guy.
If only you were into good guys and not sleazy stoners calling you while getting a hard-on for being Ghost Face.
Monday pt 2
It’s nine o'clock and you’re starting to get tired while you study. You’re in need of a distraction, so when your phone rings with an unknown number, your heart practically jumps into your throat.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Tiny.”
“Wow, Mister Ghost Face,” you laugh, twirling in your spinny chair, “two nights in a row. You must really like me, huh?”
The laugh he lets out sounds genuine, even though his voice is obscured still. For some reason, the noise makes you grin, and you can’t believe you’re actually kind of having fun with this.
“I do like you,” the mystery man confirms. “Tell me about your day.”
“Tell you about my day?” You’re in shock.
“Uh huh.”
“No teasing or nothing? No three guesses about your identity?”
“I’ll tell you what,” he lets out a sigh, “like you said, Halloween is in a week. If you keep letting me call you until then, I’ll reveal myself when you come to the party.”
“The party?” you repeat. “You make it sound like there’s only one frat party on Halloween.”
“Only one worth going to.”
“Is that so?” He’s so cocky- why does that turn you on?
“Yup. In fact, I know you agree with me on this, because the past two Halloweens, you’ve come to my frat.”
Your body freezes. He’s just given you a massive hint-
“So you’re an NCT boy?”
“Wouldn’t call myself a boy, and neither would you if you saw what's in my pants.”
You swallow the lump in your throat, not sure how to even respond to the suggestive comment he’s just made.
The man on the other end of the line lets out a chuckle. “Sorry, I’m two blunts deep. I should watch what I say to you, that's why I asked about your day.”
“You don’t have to- watch what you say, I mean.”
“Yeah?” You can almost picture him leaning back in a chair, a large half-chub growing in his pants- “Are you getting horny from a mystery man on your phone? Dirty girl.”
“Dirty guy,” you counter, “trying to entice me by saying your dick is big.”
“Well, it worked, didn’t it?”
“I’m intrigued,” you admit, “but not only because of your cock.”
“It’s a nice cock.”
“Okay, I’ll tell you about my day,” you sidestep. “Had an early class with Mark Lee, you must know Mark.”
“Of course.”
“Well, he has no clue who you could be.”
“You talked about me.”
You can hear him smiling.
“I bet you couldn’t even sleep last night. Too busy trying to figure out who I am.”
Okay, maybe he is a bit of a stalker. Or maybe he just knows you well… who the fuck is this guy?
“Stop being so cocky,” you insist.
“Tell me I’m wrong.”
“Mark told me you’re probably a stalker, said I should maybe block your number.”
“I don’t have a number, if I did, that would be too easy for you. I’m an unknown caller… can you even block unknown callers?”
“I guess we’ll find out when I block you.”
“Won’t happen though. What did you do after your class with Mark?”
“Are you really that interested in my day?”
“I wouldn’t be asking if I wasn’t interested.”
He’s a cocky softy, who would have imagined.
You wonder what you ever did to make this guy so sweet on you- you’ve dated men who don’t even care to ask you how your day went, and this guy is out here doing it practically for free.
“Classes were okay, my sorority had a little fundraiser at lunch, we baked cupcakes.”
“They were good cupcakes.”
“Wait…” your stomach churns a little. “You stopped by?”
“I’m a sucker for cupcakes, and how cute your butt looks in blue jeans.”
You search your memory, counting how many NCT boys came through around lunch. You realize that there were far too many for it to do any good in deciphering which one is the man you’re currently talking to.
“Did we talk?”
“You talked to everyone who bought something. I’m not special.”
Except… he kind of is special, in a way you can’t truly explain… not yet anyways.
“Maybe you are a stalker,” you decide.
“I can promise you I’m not, but I bet you’d be kind of into it if I was.”
This guy makes you feel such conflicting emotions, you’re not sure how to even handle him.
“Look, I was studying when you called-”
“Right, you should get back to that.”
“I should.”
“Sleep tight, Tiny. It’s been nice talking to you.”
Part of you wants to return the sentiment, it feels second nature, but the words stop on your tongue. In all fairness, it hasn’t been particularly nice talking to the mystery Ghost Face guy.
Instead of saying anything else, you simply hit him with a “Bye,” and you hang up the phone.
However, you don’t get back to studying, you immediately call Mark.
He sounds groggy as he says “Hello?”
“Did I wake you?”
“No.”
“I just got a call from that guy again. He’s definitely one of your frat brothers, and he’s high right now.”
“That doesn’t narrow it down,” Mark sighs. “We sort of uh… all got high at the fire after dinner.”
“Mark Lee!” you screech.
“Sorry, sorry!” Mark groans. “I’ll uh… ask around some more. We’ll figure out who this dude is.”
“And if we don’t… he said he’d tell me who he is at your frat Halloween bash at the end of the week.”
It’s Monday now, and the party is on Saturday. That means you’ll only have to wait a few days… you can hold out for a few days… can’t you?
Tuesday
You read over the email a third time, but it doesn’t make anything better. The words ‘We regret to inform you that you have not been chosen for the position’ make your eyes begin to well with tears.
Quickly exiting your phone, you grab your things. You refuse to cry in the middle of the library-
The bathroom will have to do the trick, and you hurry to get there, holding back the choked sob that longs to slip out of you.
You’d thought for sure this interview would land you a job on campus. The interview had gone well, or so you’d thought.
You don’t even know why you’re getting so upset about this.
There’s just something so devastating about rejection.
You get to the bathroom quickly, shutting yourself into a stall before you allow the tears to fall again. You cradle your face in your hands, allowing the sadness to overwhelm you.
It’s important to have a good cry every now and again, and you definitely need this.
Your cries, however, are interrupted by your phone ringing in your pocket. Wiping at your face, you reach for the device, lifting it to your ear.
“Hello?”
“Are you okay?”
“I really don’t have time for this right now, Ghost-” you groan, closing your eyes at the familiar voice-modulated sound.
“You do have time,” he insists. “Tell me what happened.”
“What do you mean?”
“I just saw you running through the library. Looked like you were crying.”
“I wasn’t crying!” you nearly yell.
“Liar. Come on, Tiny, let Ghostie make you feel better.”
The affectionate-sounding nickname prompts you to wipe your eyes. “Are you sure you’re not a stalker?”
“I was in the library, don’t get your panties in a twist.”
“Was?”
“I’m gone now, can’t have you figuring out who I am before Halloween.”
“Would it really be so bad if I did?” you question. “It would make me feel better.”
“Look at you, using your bad experience to try to swindle me,” you hear him laugh, and there are more sounds now, as if he’s walking across campus. “Seriously, Tiny, tell me what’s going on.”
“Do you always walk around campus with a voice modulator?”
“It’s an app on my phone babe, now answer my question.”
“You didn’t ask a question, you commanded me to tell you what happened, and I’m not taking commands right now.”
He sighs. “Will you please tell me what’s making you cry?”
Your lower lip trembles. “It’s stupid.”
“Nothing that hurts you is stupid.”
“Why are you being so nice to me?”
“It looked like you needed a friend.”
“You’re not my friend. You’re some guy who got my number and gets hard by pretending to be Ghost Face from Scream.”
“I could be your friend. Could be more than your friend. And I’m not hard right now. Not after seeing you cry.”
You take a breath. “I applied for a job and I uh… they didn’t hire me.”
“Then they’re stupid.”
“Maybe I’m stupid.”
“Don’t say that.”
“I’m a girl who’s spent three days talking to a guy who keeps his identity a secret, and for some crazy reason, you’re actually making me feel better. That definitely makes me stupid.”
“No, it makes you soft. It’s one of the things I like about you.”
“Yeah?” you sniffle. “What else? And don’t say my ass in blue jeans.”
The man chuckles. “You’re soft, and kind. But you’re a fighter too. You’ve got a spark. Don’t even get me started on how smart you are-”
“And how would you know how smart I am?”
“For starters, you’re in the top-scoring sorority on campus,” he points out. “Whenever you come to trivia night, you wipe the floor with all of us. Mark talks constantly about how much you help him with his classes, which brings me to my next point, you care about charity. That’s a great sign of your character.”
“You do know a lot about me, don’t you, Ghostie?” His words have stopped your tears, and you cradle your phone close to your ear.
“Still not a stalker though.”
Now he even has you laughing. “Jury’s still out on that one.”
“You sound better already,” he muses. “Mark has a free block right now, I’m sure if you call him he’d take you for ice cream or something to distract you.”
“That’s a good idea,” you admit.
“I’m full of good ideas.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it, Tiny.”
Tuesday pt 2
“This guy sounds like a full-on stalker,” Mark says for the sixth time as you grab ice cream and sit inside while a storm passes, rain splattering the windows.
“I mean, if he knew your schedule, I’m guessing he’s someone close to you.”
“He’s stalking us both, I don’t like it.”
“But he’s nice.”
“He’s stalking you, Tiny!”
“He’s not!” you insist. “A lot of people were at the library today… honestly, I think… I think Ghostie is kind of sweet.”
“Ghostie?!” Mark stares at you in shock. “You’re calling him Ghostie now?”
“It’s cute, right?”
“It’s crazy is what it is!” Mark leans back in his seat, frowning. “This is giving me the creeps.”
“Well, it’s spooky season.”
“If I’m being honest, I don’t think any of my frat brothers would pull crazy shit like this. They’re mostly pretty chill dudes.”
“So you think he’s lying about being in NCT?” you ask, cocking your head to the side.
“I think he’s definitely lying,” Mark confirms.
“Well, agree to disagree.”
Mark studies you for a moment. “Look, the only guy who’s a freak like this is Yuta and he swore up and down to me yesterday that he’s not calling you with a fucking voice modulator.”
“I don’t think this is Yuta.”
“Because you’re a Ghostie expert now, huh?” He scoffs loudly.
“Yuta’s not really a stoner,” you point out. “And besides, I can’t explain why I know it’s not him, I just have a feeling.”
“Yeah, is that feeling in your pussy by any chance?”
“Mark Lee!” you gasp, scandalized by his choice of words.
“Be real with me!” he insists. “You wouldn’t be entertaining this if it wasn’t… I don’t know, turning you on? Are you turned on by stalkers? Is this why you like Halloween so much?”
“Okay, maybe I am turned on, but that doesn’t make me a bad person.”
“It just makes you crazy,” Mark groans, running a hand through his hair. “I swear to God, when the dude reveals himself at the frat party, it better be one of my frat brothers and not a serial killer. And also, I’m going to fight him.”
“Something tells me he’d beat you,” you giggle.
“Now you’re trying to make me feel bad.”
“Says the guy who just called me crazy.” You grin, knowing that you’ve won.
“This whole thing is crazy.”
He has a point about that.
Wednesday
You’ve been waiting all day for a call from Ghostie, and it comes right before you’re about to head to bed. You practically launch yourself at your phone, putting it on speaker and saying “Hello?” as if you don’t know who’s on the other end of the line.
“Hey you, feeling better today?”
“You tell me, mister stalker.”
“I haven’t actually seen you today, it was a bit of a shame if I’m being honest.”
“Yeah?” God, this man has way too much power over you. “And why’s that, Ghostie?”
“Because I’ve been looking at your Instagram, but you’re cuter in person.”
“Do you follow me?”
“We’re mutuals.”
You’re mutuals with pretty much the entire NCT frat, it would have been more helpful if he’d said he’s not a follower, although, now that you think of it, that had always been unlikely.
“Still trying to figure out who I am, aren’t you, Tiny?”
“Of course.”
“Remember when I was listing your good qualities? Patience wasn’t one of them.”
“That’s so rude of you,” you say, although, you’re grinning at your phone.
“Here, I’ll make it better. I have an idea for you.”
“Let’s hear it then.” You get comfortable on your bed, wondering what he’s about to say.
“If you want a job, there’s this bar on campus, Skeets. Have you heard of it?”
“Who hasn’t heard of Skeets?” You roll your eyes.
“They let just about anyone work there. A few of the NCT guys are bartenders, I’m sure they’d put a good word in for you with the hiring manager, he’s also a member of the frat.”
You haven’t been to Skeets in ages, and you try to remember who you know amongst the staff. “Wait, you’re right- doesn’t Hyuck work there?”
“He does… This is the second time you’ve mentioned him, got something of a crush, Tiny?”
“Would that make you jealous?” you tease.
“I’m not the jealous type,” he states. “But yeah… it would.”
“Don’t get your Ghost Face mask in a knot, I don’t have a crush on Hyuck. In fact, if you turn out to be Hyuck and I find out you lied to me about your identity, I’m going to be really mad.”
“I’m not Hyuck.”
“Good.” You consider his proposition for a moment. “Do you really think they’d hire me?”
“It doesn’t hurt to try.”
“You know, on Sunday, if someone had told me you’d be helping me find a job not three days later, I would have said they were crazy.”
“Guess I like to keep you on your toes.”
“I think you just have a major soft spot for me. Tell me I’m wrong.”
“I can’t. I promised not to lie to you.”
God, he makes you so giddy it’s insane.
“Are you going to come stalk me at Skeets if they give me a job?”
“Goodnight, Tiny.” He’s avoiding the question, and you can hear him grinning through the phone.
“Night, Ghostie.”
It’s the first time he’s the one to hang up on you, and it leaves you wanting more.
Thursday
Ghostie had assured you that Skeets hires just about anyone, but that doesn’t help the anxiety building inside of you as you prepare to take your resume into the bar.
You even do a Wonderwoman pose outside while waiting for Skeets to open, breathing deeply to psych yourself up while you go over possible interview questions just in case the hiring manager wants a chit-chat today.
“I love working in a team environment,” you say quietly to yourself, closing your eyes and running through responses. “The most important thing is that the guests feel welcome.”
The sound of something dragging across the cement ground has you practically jumping, lids flashing open as your head whips toward the noise.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt your mantra,” the tall fratboy laughs, setting up the wooden sign with the daily drink menu just in front of the door to the bar.
“It’s fine,” you assure him, swallowing thickly.
The man in front of you is Johnny Suh. He’s two years older than you, and you know him through Mark. When guys join a frat, they’re assigned a ‘Big,’ an elder frat brother to guide them through the process. Johnny is Mark’s big, and he’s always been nice to you whenever you’ve crossed paths.
You would call Johnny an acquaintance, not a friend, but he’s still a friendlier face than you may have expected to see upon your first moments interacting with Skeets staff.
“You coming inside, Tiny?” Johnny asks.
“Yeah, sorry John, one sec, I just need another deep breath.” You wave your hand at him, turning your back and gulping down air while you hold your bag tight to your front, the resume within practically burning a hole in the leather.
The hot fratboy heads back inside and you finish calming yourself down.
You can do this. You can get this job.
As you enter the bar that’s just open, you realize there are only a few staff members kicking around so far. Kim Jungwoo is rearranging chairs, and Lee Donghyuck is sitting on a table looking at his phone. Johnny Suh is behind the bar, and you decide you should probably talk to him, so you try to act confident as you walk through the small establishment.
Johnny’s brown eyes raise as you approach, and he offers you a small smile. “Tough day?”
“What?” You blink at him, settling against the bartop.
“You looked kind of off outside, and most people don’t come in to day-drink this early.”
“Oh, uh… I’m not here to day-drink.” You let out a tiny laugh. “Actually, I came to see if you guys were looking to hire new staff members, I brought my resume.”
You reach into your bag to pull out the papers, and you hand them over to Johnny.
His eyes scan the first sheet. “Wow, a cover letter, I’ve actually never seen one of these.”
People don’t apply with cover letters? The idea is kind of shocking to you.
Johnny hardly looks at your resume, setting it down in front of him to address you instead. “What makes you want to work at Skeets?”
“In all honesty, I need a job. I’m dependable, and I’ve got a decent schedule to work in the food service industry. I like working as part of a team, and I’m already friends with a lot of the staff here, so I thought it might be a good fit.”
Johnny nods, assessing you. “Have you bartended before?”
“I’ve got my qualifications to serve alcohol, but I’ve mostly had waitressing jobs,” you admit.
“At Skeets, we all do a bit of everything. Would you be open to learning how to mix drinks?”
“I’d be very open to it,” you nod.
“Then let’s give it a shot,” Johnny smiles warmly at you. “You’ve got good timing, we actually just had to let go of someone for excessive drinking on the job. I was going to put a wanted ad up today, but looks like that won’t be necessary.”
“Are you…” you swallow thickly, “are you serious? I’m hired?”
“Yeah, why not?”
You can’t help the squeal of delight that rushes through you, and a massive grin makes its way onto your face. You even jump a little, and Johnny seems to enjoy your excitement, smiling from ear to ear while you celebrate.
“When can you start?” he asks next.
“I can start tomorrow! I mean, if you need me that soon.”
“Tomorrow is a big night here at Skeets, the Friday before Halloween. We could use the hands, but it will be a busy one, do you think you can handle that?”
You’re quick to nod. “Of course. But I uh… I should let you know, I can’t work Halloween, I promised a friend I’d meet them at your frat for the party.”
“Don’t worry about Saturday,” Johnny assures you. “Sigma Veta Tau has their frat party tonight, so it’s all us NCT guys working, and tomorrow we’ll switch. As much as Seungcheol is a good comanager, I don’t trust him to teach you how to mix drinks on Halloween.”
“So… you’re going to be the main person training me then?” you ask.
“If you want something done right, you gotta do it yourself,” he confirms.
You can’t help but beam up at the tall frat boy, overjoyed at this turn of events. As cute as Johnny is though, part of you is excited to tell Ghostie about this when he inevitably calls you tonight.
Your life is definitely a little crazy.
“So, how about you come in tomorrow at seven?” Johnny suggests. “The bar will be open past midnight, but I figure I can show you a few things before it gets busy around ten, and then I can let you go early.”
“I’ll be here at seven.”
“And when it comes to what you’re wearing, we’ll give you a Skeets t-shirt,” he pulls at the black fabric stretched tight across his broad chest. “Other than that, you can wear any color of jeans and some sneakers.”
“Perfect.”
“You’ll be paid for the training shift, I’ll tip you out in cash, and if it goes well, we’ll get your banking details at your next shift after that,” Johnny explains. “I’ve got your number here on your resume, so I’ll be in contact with you on Sunday, how’s that sound?”
“Sounds like a dream.” You literally can’t stop smiling.
“Tiny’s going to learn to mix,” Johnny says fondly, “Mark’s going to love this.”
You already feel close to Mark’s big, and the opportunity to work with him is a good one. Johnny is one of the more well-known nice guys at the frat. Sure, he’s got a little bit of a dangerous edge to him, just based on his massive stature alone, but he’s generally a big softy bear.
“Thanks again for this, Johnny,” you beam. “I won’t let you down.”
Thursday pt 2
“Hyuck said our favorite Tiny sorority princess got herself a job today.”
“Hello to you too, Ghostie.”
“I wanted to cut to the chase and congratulate you.”
“I wouldn’t have gotten the job without you,” you admit. “So… thank you.”
“Don’t mention it,” your mystery man says, and you can hear that classic grin of his. “I’m sure you got it on your own merit.”
“Apparently no one’s ever brought a cover letter with their resume before.”
“They must have been impressed.”
“Hired me on the spot.”
“That’s my girl.”
Your insides flutter. You like the way it sounds when he calls you his girl. “How about your day, Ghostie? Stalk any new girls?”
He laughs. “Only one girl worth stalking, which, I don’t do, by the way.”
“Sure you don’t.”
“My day was long,” he says finally.
“Yeah, it’s nearly midnight, I was thinking about going to sleep but…”
“But you wanted me to call,” Ghostie finishes your sentence for you.
“When you say it like that it sounds kind of depressing.”
“It’s not depressing, Tiny, it’s cute.”
“Cute?”
“I like that you’re getting used to me.”
“You know… if you decided not to show up to the Halloween party- if you never called again, I think… I’d wonder who you are the rest of my life.” It’s a moment of vulnerability, and your heart races in your chest while you wait for his response.
“I wouldn’t do that to you, Tiny,” Ghostie promises. “I’ll find you on Saturday, and not in a stalker way.”
“What costume are you going to be wearing?”
“If I tell you, you’ll just show up and scour the whole place looking for me.”
“You know me too well, don’t you, Ghostie?”
“What are you going to wear, pretty girl?”
You literally kick your feet at the term of endearment, body buzzing. It takes a moment to collect yourself. “Honestly? I’ve got a Ghost Face mask hanging around somewhere.”
“And here I was being told I’m the one who gets hard pretending to be Ghost Face.”
“Well… even though I don’t know you, not really, I think I got that one pretty accurate, didn’t I?”
“Maybe a little.”
“I thought you said you were big,” you tease.
“Okay, maybe a lot.”
You bite at your lip. After the great day you’ve had, it’s difficult not to feel flirty. “Are you hard right now, big guy?”
He groans, and even under the voice modulator, something tells you the sounds he makes are sexy as fuck. You can feel your panties getting wet. It’s dirty, but in the best possible way.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” you grin.
“You’re being bad, Tiny.”
“Says the guy who’s literally hard right now.”
The other end of the line is silent for a moment. “Can I ask you something?”
“You can ask me anything.”
“What if… when we meet, you’re not interested in me?”
Well, this has just taken a turn. How did you go from horny thoughts to insecurity?
It’s a valid question though, one you should have asked yourself by now, but for some reason you haven’t. You think about it for a few seconds.
“I feel like… I know it’s been less than a week of talking but, you’re not like any other guy I’ve ever met. And not just because you’re calling with a voice modulator.” You let out a laugh. “You ask how my day is, and you care to hear my answer. You even helped me get a job, which is crazy to think about. For some weird reason, I think when I meet you, the emotional connection is already kind of there, so no matter what you look like, you’ll be more attractive to me.”
“You really think so?”
“I mean, NCT is known for having hot guys, so I’m not sure who you could be that would turn me off. There are only a few NCT guys I’d say a hard no to at the moment.”
“Yeah? Who?”
“Well, Doyoung and I have never gotten along, but I know you’re not him because he doesn’t touch weed. I dated Jeno for about a week, and I know enough about him to know I don’t want to do anything with him ever again, and also, that you’re not Jeno because he’d never ask me how my day was going-”
“What an asshole.”
You laugh. “All things considered, Ghostie, I think you’ll do just fine.”
“That’s good to hear.”
“Is this why you’ve been doing the whole voice modulator thing? You’re worried I won’t be interested in you?”
“It’s one of the reasons,” Ghostie admits. “I also worried that if I did hit on you, you might think I was only trying to get you into my bed, which, yeah, it would be nice, but… as perfect as your body is, it’s not the most interesting thing about you.”
What a scrumptious take; A guy calling you up and using anonymity to prove to you that this connection isn’t only about sex.
Your heart softens.
“Ghostie, you might be one of the sweetest guys I know,” you admit.
“More than your best friend Mark Lee?”
You laugh. “Maybe not, Mark would never do something like this. You’re a bit of a paradox that way, aren’t you?”
“If you say so, Tiny. As much as I’ve liked this talk, I think I should let you sleep. Halloween is two days away and I’m sure we’ve both got a lot to do before then.”
“What if I don’t want you to go just yet?”
“Then I’d remind you that patience is a virtue.”
“You’re such a tease.”
“Good thing we have an emotional connection so you’ll forgive me for it. Night, Tiny.”
“Night, Ghostie.”
Friday
Your first shift consists of shadowing Johnny. He’s a fabulous teacher. He’s calm, patient, and very encouraging. The first few hours are a breeze, but the bar gets increasingly packed as the night goes on.
It’s a little overwhelming, but Johnny helps keep you steady. He gives you the easy drink orders, things like beer and simple cocktails. While you’re filling a cup from the beer tap, he’s busy mixing five to ten different things into one glass for items on the Halloween special menu.
There’s something sexy about a diligent worker, and his beefy arms are all bulgy and hot in his tight Skeets shirt. You can tell that a lot of girls come up to the bar specifically to order from him. There are two other bartenders, but Johnny’s line is notably the longest.
You’ve had your own share of interested men pop over to say hi. There are very few frat boys here tonight, as there’s a party in full swing in the Greek village, so most of the guys coming up to grab a beer from you are people you don’t know.
Many of them are dressed up in costumes, and it’s interesting to try to guess some of the more obscure clothing choices.
Anytime you see a man in a ghost costume, your mind shifts to your mystery caller. You wonder if he’ll pop by tonight- but other than the men already working with you, no NCT boys walk through the front door.
No Ghostie.
There’s not one second of reprieve, but staff need breaks, and finally, just before midnight, Johnny pulls you both for a breather.
“Are you sure the others can keep up while we’re gone?” you ask, looking back at the swamped bartenders.
“They can manage,” he assures you, guiding you through the back staffroom to a door that leads to an alleyway behind the bar. “I know I’ve kept you on longer than I thought, but it’s just been so busy. How are you holding up?”
The cool night air is a drastic difference from the heat and humidity inside, and you take a deep breath, closing your eyes and enjoying it. “I’m doing alright,” you tell him. “You’re the one making the difficult drinks.”
“I’ve been mixing cocktails for years,” he brushes it off, reaching into his back pocket.
“Well, it shows.” You watch to see him pull out a rolled joint, and next comes a lighter.
“Want some?” he asks, lifting the joint to slot between his perfect lips.
“Are we allowed to smoke on the job?”
“Hyuck was prescribed Vyvanse last year, so he’s practically on coke all shift,” Johnny grins, lighting the end of the joint and taking a puff. “Besides,” he lets out a deep breath of smoke, “in the service industry, sometimes you need a little buffer.”
Skeets really is a chill place if the hiring manager smokes weed on breaks with subordinates.
“I didn’t realize you were a stoner,” you muse.
“Most of us frat boys are,” Johnny admits, pulling the joint from between his lips. It’s placed casually between two fingers, and his other hand ruffles through his pretty hair. “It’s a nice night.”
“It is,” you nod, looking up at the sky. Stars are twinkling in the dark
“I’m glad you joined the team, not sure we would have been doing so well without your extra set of hands.”
“I’m really grateful to have been given a trial shift,” you smile softly.
“Well, just so you know, it’s more than a trial shift. You’re hired.” He nudges your shoulder gently, and your grin only grows.
“Thank you.”
Johnny takes another drag from his joint. “Sure you don’t want a puff?”
“I really shouldn’t-”
“I’m going to let you go home pretty soon after this,” Johnny tells you. “So it won’t affect your performance that much.”
You wonder if this is a test, but… at the same time, you don’t think Johnny’s the type of guy to test you this way.
You give in, accepting the joint and bringing it to your lips. It’s been a while since you smoked one of these, and your first tiny hit leaves you coughing, passing the joint back to Johnny while you try to catch your breath.
He grins while watching you, and you get the sneaking suspicion that Johnny thinks you’re cute.
“Thank you,” you say, coughing again.
“You’ve got good manners, don’t ya, Tiny?”
You nod, wiping at the tears that have formed in your eyes from the smoke.
“Who... who do you usually smoke with?” you ask.
“Why? You a cop?” Johnny jokes.
“No, it’s just uh… God, I could tell you the whole story but you wouldn’t even believe me if I did,” you find yourself laughing. “Just… I didn’t know you smoked, so, I’m wondering if maybe there are a few other guys in your circle who do too.”
Johnny looks you up and down. “Like I said earlier, Tiny, almost all us frat boys partake in mari-ju-ana.”
It’s clear he’s not going to give you any information that could help you figure out who your Ghostie is. You suppose you really will just have to be patient.
In less than twenty-four hours, you’ll be finding out who your mystery caller is, and the suspense is absolutely killing you.
Friday pt 2
It’s twelve thirty when you finally get home, and you’re very tired. But at the same time, you’re awake. You take your time getting ready for bed, ignoring the loud party sounds outside and around the frat village while you wait for a call from Ghostie.
As one am rolls around, you start to realize that maybe tonight you won’t get a call.
He is a frat boy, and this is Halloween weekend.
You’re disappointed as you get into bed, frowning as you scroll on your phone, hoping that if you wait another five minutes, maybe he’ll catch you.
Five minutes turn into ten, turn into fifteen, and you find your eyes beginning to shut.
You’re starting to understand how much you truly have come to depend on Ghostie as part of your nightly ritual. It hurts not to get a call from your favourite voice-modulated anonymous frat boy.
You try to self-soothe by assuring yourself you’ll meet him tomorrow, but it doesn’t really help.
Tossing and turning, trying to get comfortable, you fall into a blissless sleep.
Saturday
You’re groggy when you open your eyes, but you still go to check your phone. There’s a missed call notification from an unknown number at three am, and suddenly you’re wide awake, bolting up in bed.
“Hey, Tiny, it’s me.”
As if it could be anyone else.
“Sorry I didn’t get a chance to call you last night. I was pretty swamped with Halloween stuff. But if it makes you feel any better, you were definitely on my mind.”
Here you are kicking your feet again.
“Probably won’t get a chance to talk to you until the party, I really do hope you come… in uh… more ways than one.”
God, he makes you wet.
“I get it if you’re a little mad at me for not calling earlier, and I promise to make it up to you when I see you, if you’ll let me.”
He’s so oddly respectful.
“But I get it if you don’t want to do anything at the party. I’ve enjoyed talking with you this week, and if that’s all it’s going to be then I won’t hold it against you. Anyways, goodnight, see you soon.”
Saturday pt 2
You feel cute tonight. You’d taken your Ghost Face mask off almost as soon as entering the frat, but the little black dress you’re wearing is enough to capture a lot of attention.
Every frat boy that comes up to you makes your heart race, but none of them reveal themselves as your Ghostie.
You’re actually beginning to get a little frustrated, and after two hours of floating around hoping to find your mystery man, you head with Mark to his room for a break.
Mark’s roommate, Hyuck, is sitting on his bed, bong already out and resting on one thigh while scrolls through his phone. He looks up when you enter, smirking. “Finally, smoking buddies.”
“You texted me like two minutes ago to come up here,” Mark rolls his eyes. “Have some patience.”
“Not in my nature,” Hyuck insists, setting his phone down and reaching for his lighter. “First hit is mine.”
As if you expected anything less.
You watch him inhale the thick cloud of smoke, holding it for a moment in his lungs before he lets out a deep exhale. “Fucking hell, he groans, that was a good hit.”
Mark takes the bong and Hyuck falls flat against the bed, closing his eyes and smiling.
“So have you found your stalker yet, Tiny?” Hyuck asks.
Your gaze flashes to Mark. “You told him?”
“He was curious why I was asking for a stoner list,” Mark defends himself.
“Whoever the dude is, he’s got balls,” Hyuck says wistfully.
There’s a knock on the door, and Jaehyun pokes his head inside. “Heard we’re smoking?”
“Yeah, come in!” Hyuck waves his hand, still collapsed on his bed.
The door is pushed open wider, and you catch sight of Johnny standing behind Jaehyun. Your new hiring manager flashes you a wink as they enter, and the door is shut firmly behind them. Jaehyun goes to sit with Hyuck, but Johnny approaches you, taking the seat next to you on Mark’s bed.
“How’s your night going?” Johnny asks.
“She’s waiting for her stalker to come kidnap her and fuck her brains out,” Hyuck says loudly.
“Your stalker?” Johnny laughs.
“Some guy has been calling her all week,” Mark tries to explain.
“It sounds worse than it is,” you insist, feeling the need to defend Ghostie. “He’s only a little perverted.”
“And you’re into that sort of thing?” Jaehyun questions, cocking his head while Mark takes a puff from the bong and hands it over.
“Not usually,” you admit. “But… this guy is different.”
“You don’t even know what he looks like,” Mark groans, collapsing in his desk chair and running an anxious hand through his hair.
“That doesn’t matter,” you insist.
“Fucking girls, dude,” Hyuck laughs, sitting up and watching Jaehyun smoke from the bong. “You know what we need?”
“More weed?” Mark suggests.
“Yes, but also, shots.” Hyuck’s eyes shift to Johnny. “Not the shit from downstairs. The good stuff.”
Johnny lets out a chuckle. “You want something from my secret stash?”
“The tequila you brought back from Mexico,” Hyuck nods.
Jaehyun lets out a puff of smoke, holding the bong out for Johnny, who shakes his head.
“You’re not taking a hit?” Jaehyun asks, staring at Johnny in hazy shock.
“Not tonight,” Johnny responds. Then he turns to you. “If neither of us are taking a crack at the bong, how about you come help me grab the tequila?”
“Careful, John,” Hyuck teases, “She’s not interested in you, she only has eyes for this Ghostie dude.”
Mark shoves Hyuck’s knee and Johnny simply grins. “Come on Tiny, you don’t want to get secondhand high on a night like this.”
He’s right about that, and you stand with him, heading to the door. Johnny’s so tall and broad, and you try not to stare at his shoulders, but it’s extremely difficult not to appreciate his large form.
“What’s your costume?” you ask.
“Oh, this?” He pulls casually at his black tshirt. “I’m a serial killer, they look like everyone else.”
“Very original,” you laugh, falling into step with the tall fratboy as you make your way down the crowded hall.
“My room is on the top floor,” he tells you, heading to the stairwell and holding the door open for you. “I like your dress, by the way.”
“Thanks, it goes with this.” You hold up the Ghost Face mask to show it to him, and his grin widens while you climb the stairs.
“You’re gonna have to let me try that on.”
“I’m uh… I’m actually saving it for Ghostie to try,” you admit, feeling a little silly with how loyal you’re being to your mystery caller.
“He’s a lucky guy,” Johnny muses.
“Here’s to hoping it goes well,” you sigh.
Johnny doesn’t respond to your comment, and as you reach the top floor he guides you three rooms down, using a key to unlock the door before he holds it open for you. “After you, Tiny.”
The space is the same size as Hyuck and Mark’s, but it only has one bed. “I didn’t realize they had single rooms here,” you say, looking around.
“There’s only a few, and I’ve got seniority,” Johnny explains. He closes the door behind him, walking over to the large closet.
You take in the decorations. It’s unmistakably a frat boy's room, but much cleaner than you’re used to. There’s a gaming station, and a mini fridge that you’d guess is full of beer. A clothing rack shows off some of Johnny’s more sophisticated tastes.
You’re curious about what else he has in his stash, so you join him by the closet, peeking inside. “We’re looking for tequila right?”
God, he has a whole shelf full of expensive bottles of booze.
“Uh huh,” Johnny nods. “Should be in the back here somewhere.”
“Isn’t this tequila?” you ask, pointing to a bottle he’s brushed past.
“Close,” Johnny flashes a grin at you before continuing to rummage, “but no cigar.”
You freeze.
It’s been nearly a week since your first interaction with Ghostie, but you remember that interesting turn of phrase like it was yesterday.
But- it can’t be.
Johnny can’t be your mystery caller-
Can he?
“Found it,” Johnny announces, pulling an immaculate bottle of tequila out. His gaze lands on you. “You alright, Tiny? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I mean… have I?”
He cocks his head. “What do you mean?”
“You’re…” You swallow thickly. “Are you my Ghostie?”
Johnny meets your gaze with a steady look. “Does it upset you?”
It’s not a clear confirmation, but it’s a confirmation nonetheless.
You stare at him in absolute shock for a moment. He looks insanely gorgeous tonight, all broad, with his pretty lips- without even knowing what you’re doing, you find yourself throwing your arms around him and burying your face against his chest.
Johnny freezes, obviously startled by the sudden contact, but then he’s wrapping you in a tight embrace. One of his hands finds the back of your head, and he cradles you close.
Neither of you say anything, you simply hold each other while you come to terms with everything.
He’s so stupid for ever thinking you wouldn’t want him-
You do want him. You want him so bad-
Pulling away from his chest, you tilt your chip up, reaching for his face. You cup his cheek while you move on your tiptoes to press your lips against his.
He appears just as shocked at this movement as when you’d hugged him, but he eases into it all the same, kissing you back gently.
But you don’t want gentle, you want him.
You’re pent up from a week of teasing, and you shift in his embrace, wrapping both arms around the back of his neck while you glide your tongue against his lip.
Johnny lets out a groan, his mouth opening for you while his hands slip down to tug your waist closer.
The kiss deepens and now it’s your turn to release a moan, pressing your tits closer to his chest. He feels like heaven against you, and his lips are absolutely magic. His tongue glides gently against your own. You can taste beer, but it’s not unpleasant, in fact, it turns you on even more.
You thread your fingers through his hair, dragging your nails against his scalp-
“Fuck,” Johnny mutters against your mouth.
Then he’s bending down, hands grabbing at your ass and prompting you to jump. You wrap your legs around his hips and he carries you effortlessly, closing the distance to his bed.
Instead of tossing you down, he sits on the mattress and suddenly your knees are digging into his charcoal duvet. You’re on top, fingers in his hair, your tongue licking at his lip, and you’ve never felt so powerful.
It gives you the confidence to wiggle your hips a little, and you’re pleased to find he’s already growing hard in his jeans. God, he feels big- and your pussy throbs at the idea of what you’re going to do to him tonight.
You’re in a dress, and your panty-clad core feels delightful against bulging denim. Johnny’s grabbing at your bare thigh, kneading your flesh, and it makes you moan desperately. Not only is he skilled with his tongue, but his hands seem to know what they’re doing too.
Suddenly he’s grabbing at your hair, tugging you so you arch your head back, giving him access to your throat. His mouth feels amazing as he begins to lick and suck on your neck, finding your sweet spot way too easily-
“Who-” You swallow thickly. “Who gave you my number?”
Johnny laughs against your skin, pulling away to look up at you with dark eyes. “Mark did.”
“Mark?!” You’re in absolute shock now.
“Gave it to me during finals last year,” Johnny explains. “But… we both had busy summers and…” one of his hands sneaks down to guide your hips, helping you grind against him, “I guess I wasn’t sure how you felt about me.”
“You’re crazy!”
“Maybe a little,” he admits. “I’m also Mark’s big, and it’s not like you and I have ever been close.”
“But you’ve liked me for a while, haven’t you, Ghostie?”
He groans at the nickname, looking up at you with eyes full of wonder. “Longer than you know.”
You wish you could say you’ve felt the same- but in all honesty, you have always seen him as Mark’s big. As an older fratboy dad type-
The way he’s acted with you this week has inklings of that protective daddy personality you know and enjoy, but… he’s not been particularly dad-like. He’s shown you a new side of himself, and you’re so fucking happy he did.
“You know, when Mark finds out you’re my stalker he’s going to flip.”
“I wasn’t stalking you,” Johnny insists, grinning up at you as he applies more pressure to your hips, making you grind against him harder.
“God, you even hired me for a job-”
He laughs. “It wasn’t favoritism, you had a cover letter, the bar owner was even impressed.”
“You’re so bad- this whole time you’ve been mind fucking me. I would have never guessed my Ghostie worked at Skeets.”
“Well, I do have a minor in psychology,” he admits. “Figured the best place to hide is in plain sight.”
“You even smoked a joint in front of me and I never guessed-”
“Yeah, I was playing with fire with that one,” Johnny laughs.
“It’s funny. I was so busy thinking about being loyal to Ghostie that I was trying not to check you out last night.”
“And I’m so lucky to have you. You wouldn’t even let me put on your Ghost Face mask, so busy saving it for Ghostie.”
“Saving myself too,” you note, grinning down at him.
“Yeah?”
“We’ve talked every night since Sunday- I haven’t cum in over a week.”
“Fuck, Tiny,” Johnny groans. “I guess I better help you out then.”
“Really? How are you going to do that?”
“I’ll let you stay on top for a while, let you grind against me until you’re begging for me to tear your dress off.” He pulls at the strap on your shoulder. “Then, I’ll flip you over, get on my knees, and eat you out like the good girl you are, stretching you open with my fingers.”
“And then?”
“When you’re shaking and delirious from cumming, I’ll fuck you right. Bet you’ve never really been fucked right before.”
God, you definitely haven’t. At least- you know you’ve never been fucked the way Johnny is about to fuck you.
“What if I already want you to tear my dress off?” you ask, grinding down against his cock.
Johnny lets out a low groan, grinning at you. “Tiny, you’re nowhere near begging yet.”
“I’m not?” You lean forward, pressing a kiss to his throat before your teeth drag against his earlobe. “Please, Ghostie, I’m already so fucking wet, you wouldn’t believe it-”
He laughs, hand finding your hair again. He tugs you away from his neck, pressing his lips to your own and kissing you hard.
He takes your breath away. His tongue is perfect, licking and tasting- making you moan loudly while you work your hips, swiveling on his denim-covered cock.
“Fuck, Ghostie, you’re so fucking big-”
“You haven’t seen anything yet,” he promises, grabbing a fistful of your ass and squeezing so hard it almost hurts. But the pain is wonderful, and you cry out in ecstasy, working yourself harder against him.
If it wasn’t for his enticing cock, you think you could make out with him like this forever.
You just want to be naked, so you grab at your dress, intent on lifting it off-
Johnny stops you. “I’ve told you patience is a virtue, haven’t I, Tiny?”
You groan in annoyance. “John, please-”
“Ghostie,” he corrects you.
You don’t even care- you simply grab his hand, guiding it between your legs. His fingertips brush over your soaked panties, and you gasp at the feeling of him, immediately grinding down, looking for relief.
“Fuck-” you moan, closing your eyes and throwing your head back.
He begins to circle your clit through your thong and you’re forced to grab at his shoulder to steady yourself, whimpering loudly.
“Shit, Tiny, you’re so fucking pretty,” he whispers.
“I need you,” you gasp, feeling an orgasm already bubbling in the pit of your stomach. “Please, move my panties to the side-”
Johnny doesn’t question you this time. He pulls your thong away, easily burying two large fingers into your wet, needy core.
Now you’re really gasping. You lean forward, wrapping both arms around his strong shoulders and burying your face against his throat. “Oh my God, Ghostie- don’t stop-”
“You’re going to cum from this, aren’t you, pretty girl?”
You nod desperately, swiveling your hips so your clit can rub against the palm of his hand while his fingers work you open.
“So good,” you whimper. “So fucking good-”
Johnny groans, curving his fingers and stroking your gspot.
You squeal in his lap, thigh muscles clenching while your pussy begins to throb around the foreign intrusions. You’re so close to the edge you can almost taste it.
“Want you to cum for me. Wanna hear your sounds while you drip down my hand.”
Fuck, he’s way too sexy, voice all low and seductive. He’s breathing hard, and you can tell you’re turning him on just from riding his fingers-
“Come on, Tiny, who’s my good girl?”
“I am-” you gasp, digging your nails into his shoulders as your orgasm hits you straight on.
You moan loudly, burying your face against Johnny’s neck. You’re panting against his skin, wiggling your hips while his fingers continue inside of you, driving you absolutely insane. Waves of pleasure are overtaking your form, and your mind is completely blank, overwhelmed by the feeling of ecstasy that Johnny provides for you.
“That’s it,” Johnny encourages you. “So fucking good for me.”
You’re shaking on his lap by the time your high is over, and you press wet kisses to his throat, earning groans from your Ghostie.
You reach down for your dress, lifting it up and off your body. Johnny pulls back, watching you with dark eyes. He takes his fingers out of your wet pussy, bringing them to his lips to clean. But he’s not done there, as you toss the fabric to the floor, Johnny offers you his digits next.
You lock eyes with him for a moment before leaning forward and accepting, taking his wet fingers into your mouth and helping suck them clean. You groa at the taste of yourself. Johnny watches the motion, his free hand finding your hip and forcing you to grind down against his cock.
“You’re so hot, Tiny,” he says, removing his fingers from your lips.
“Wait till you see me naked,” you grin, reaching behind yourself to undo your bra.
It falls away easily, and Johnny’s large hands cup your breasts almost immediately. His head dips, eyes taking in your newly exposed skin. “Fuck, how does a girl get this perfect?”
“How does a guy get a massive cock like yours?” you counter, rubbing yourself against the front of his jeans.
“Touche,” he chuckles, leaning down to lick your nipple.
You thread your fingers through his hair, guiding him to show more affection to your chest, which he’s more than happy to do. His large hand cups your right breast while he worships your other with his mouth, suckling on your nipple. His teeth drag gently against the sensitive bud and you moan loudly, rocking your hips all the while.
“As much as I’d love to keep sucking on your tits,” Johnny sighs, lips moving up your throat again, “I’d rather be between your legs.”
“Ghostie, do whatever you want to me,” you instruct, feeling delightfully submissive.
“You got it, Tiny.”
In one easy motion, he flips you so your back is on the bed. Johnny pulls away from you, sinking to his knees at the edge of the mattress before grabbing you and tugging you closer. He tears his own shirt off, giving you a great view of muscles that make you even wetter. Then he grabs your panties, sliding them down your legs so you’re completely bare for him now.
Johnny doesn’t say anything, he simply licks his lips and dives into you. His tongue parts your folds, dipping inside to taste your walls while your legs shake around his head. “Fuck, Ghostie-”
You reach down to grab his hair, applying enough pressure to his head to let him know you’re enjoying what he’s doing… if he can’t already tell from your desperately needy moans.
His lips move to suction on your clit and a squeal escapes you, your back arching slightly at the sensation.
You’re sensitive from having cum already, sensitive from having not cum all week only to be getting this much attention now. But you’re also probably sensitive because this is Johnny, because there’s been a build-up that’s left you ready to pop, and he seems intent on making you pop multiple times for him.
“Oh my God,” you whimper, eyes closed, abdominal muscles tensing with effort as his skilled tongue works you up again.
Johnny groans against your pussy and it’s one of the sexiest things that’s ever happened to you. Your grip on his hair tightens, your core throbbing with pleasure already.
When he adds two fingers into your dripping hole, you know you’re not going to last, but you don’t think he wants you to.
In fact, you’d bet that Johnny himself is just about ready to explode. You can’t believe he doesn’t have his cock out yet- can’t believe he’s so intent on making you cum twice before getting any satisfaction for himself.
“Fuck, Ghostie-” You want to tell him how close you are to cumming, but you can hardly get the words out between your moans. “I’m- holy shit-”
Johnny finger fucks you even harder, his mouth focusing on your clit, and you’re pretty sure he’s understood your garbled attempt to warn him, pretty sure he wants you to cum.
You allow yourself to find your release, your back arching again as you tug on Johnny’s hair, keeping his face between your legs. You grind down slightly, your body chasing your orgasm as it surges through you like fire in your veins.
Johnny lets out a low groan again, and your entire body twitches at the extra stimulation. You’re gasping now. Nothing has ever felt this good-
To his credit, Johnny tries to help you through your entire orgasm, but he pulls away before you’re truly finished. You can feel him panting against your pussy, and when you open your eyes to look down at him, you find Johnny staring at you with the horniest expression you’ve ever seen on a man.
“Ghostie-” you whimper, shifting against his duvet.
“Condoms,” he says, pulling his fingers out of your core and standing up.
“I’m on birth control,” you tell him quickly, making him freeze. “And if we’re both clean-”
Johnny practically moans at the idea, looking down at your body. “Does my Tiny want to be filled up all nice and good?”
Now it’s your turn to groan, and you nod, licking your lips. You sit up next, feeling your skin heat at the words you want to say, “I also… I wanna suck you off first.”
Johnny approaches the bed again, towering over you. It’s hard to focus on his eyes when his abs and strong biceps and veiny forearms are drawing your attention, but when he cups your jaw it makes things easier. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”
“You pretty much stalked me for a week,” you tease, grinning.
Your Ghostie lets out a laugh. He doesn’t bother to check you on the word ‘stalking’ this time, even though he’s always been adamant that’s not what he was up to. It’s nice to have this little win, and as a reward for him biting his tongue, you reach out to undo his belt.
As the buckle unclasps and you move to his zipper, there’s a loud banging on the door.
Johnny looks over his shoulder and you can hear Hyuck screaming “Tequila!”
The frat boy in front of you lifts his finger to his lips, a shushing motion, and then he reaches into his back pocket for his phone. You bet he’s going to text Hyuck some lie about not being in the room, but you’re too horny to slow down.
You get his jeans undone and you bundle your hands up in all the fabric, roughly tugging them down.
Johnny lets out a groan when his large cock slaps up against his abdomen, and he moves his phone to the side to give himself a better view, holding it with one hand while raising a brow at you.
You’re on your knees at the foot of the bed now while Johnny stands there, and you steady yourself, grabbing the base of his cock. With one last wink at Ghostie, you lean forward, kitten licking his length from balls to tip.
The man above you quickly types in the text, then tosses his phone to the side, his large hand coming down to cup your cheek. You take this as a sign to accept him into your mouth, so you do exactly that.
He’s so large and thick- you haven’t sucked cock in a while, and you’ve never sucked a cock as big as his. You know you can take your time, Johnny’s always been patient with you.
You start by paying attention to the head, swirling your tongue around him and getting used to his size. Your eyes close, mind focused completely on your task. You’re already drooling from this, and you can feel your saliva dripping down his shaft. You smooth your thumb along the new trail of spit, helping lube your hand so you can begin to pump his cock.
“Fuck,” Johnny groans, tightening his grip in your hair.
You try to sink your mouth further onto his cock, but it’s difficult. He’s just so huge-
Your pussy throbs knowing that soon, this monster dick is going to be inside of you-
Without any lube that you’ve seen so far, you want to make him as slicked up as possible, and it helps that you’re drooling from how sexy all of this is.
His cock hits the back of your throat and you gag slightly, powering through the uncomfortable feeling as you glide your tongue along his shaft. You’re not a quitter.
“Holy fuck, Tiny-” Johnny praises you. “You don’t have to try to take more than you can handle-”
But you want to. You want to pleasure him the way he’s pleasured you, and his words only prompt you to suck harder, earning more groans from the man above you.
“You’re so good at this,” he continues his words of encouragement, and they do help you take him deeper. His voice is smooth, sexy, and thankfully not modulated in any way.
You’ve never realized how nice John’s voice really is.
You apply more pressure with your hand, pumping him faster-
“Okay, okay-” Johnny tugs gently on your hair, prompting you to pull off of his cock and blink up at him in confusion. “I have to fuck you now. I’m done waiting.”
You let out a tiny mewl, nodding.
Johnny kicks off his jeans completely, pressing a knee onto the bed. He leans down to kiss you, and then he’s grabbing your body. In one easy motion, he tosses you a few feet up the mattress, so your head can land against the pillows.
God, he makes you feel truly Tiny- it’s one of the sexiest things ever.
He takes his place between your legs next, lips finding yours. One of his hands cups your cheek, and the kiss deepens, his tongue invading your mouth while your arms wrap around his strong shoulders.
You can feel his cock sliding between your pussy lips, and it’s almost embarrassing how wet you are, how much drool you’ve left on him.
“Please-” you whimper. You can’t wait another moment either, you have to know what he feels like. You reach your hand between your bodies, grabbing his cock so you can line him up with you properly. “Ghostie, I can’t-”
He kisses you, cutting you off. Something tells you Johnny understands, and the moment you have him properly situated, he begins to push into you.
You gasp against his lips, letting go of his cock so you can grab his shoulders. He’d worked you open with his fingers two times over, but nothing compares to this. You can feel your walls stretching to accommodate his impressive girth, and it leaves you practically brain-dead.
“Let me know if it’s too much,” Johnny tells you, lips moving to your throat so he can suck on your sweet spot while he continues to burry into your hot, wet core.
You wrap your legs tightly around his hips, closing your eyes while the feeling of him overtakes you. You’ve never moaned like this before, never felt anything like Johnny-
He groans loudly against your skin, gently thrusting, coating his cock in your juices to make things easier-
The moment his hips hit flush to yours, his full cock buried inside of you, you both gasp. Johnny grabs at your hands, interlocking your fingers and pinning them to the pillows on either side of your head.
“Fuck, you’re so big, you’re so-” You can’t even think, especially not when he takes another test thrust.
His cock drags against your inner walls and you cry out, body tingling.
“You take me so well, Tiny,” he praises you, mouth still hot on your throat. “The perfect fit.”
You can’t speak, not now, but you can squeeze his hands and tilt your head to the side, kissing his cheek. Johnny takes the cue to bring his lips back to yours, and you’re immediately lost in yet another breathtaking makeout session.
He’s moving slow, fucking into you at a gentle pace, allowing your body to get used to his massive size.
But you’re feeling particularly desperate, and greedy. “More.”
“More?” He laughs. “You sure about that?”
You nod, eager to be decimated by him. “Please, ruin me-”
Johnny groans, letting go of one of your hands so he can press his palm flat to the bed, giving himself more leverage. He begins to fuck you faster, and each meeting of his cock to your core has you whimpering like a whore in heat.
“You make the cutest fucking sounds,” Johnny breathes.
Only he - with his cock making you feral - would call your noises of pleasure cute.
He’s so stupidly endearing.
“Fuck, Tiny, you’re dripping- making this too fucking easy for me.”
It’s absolutely embarrassing how wet you are. He’s gliding into you with no issues now, and each movement is like heaven. The head of his cock hits a spot deep in your stomach- you can’t help but reach down, pressing your palm to your abdomen-
You can feel him rearranging your guts, and you both groan when you apply a bit of pressure.
“Deep, huh?” Johnny lets out a moaned chuckle.
“So deep-” you agree, words slightly garbled.
“I’ve just started with you and you can hardly speak,” Johnny muses. “Wonder what’s gonna happen when I make you cum again.”
You cry out desperately, removing your hand from your stomach so you can claw at his hair, bringing his lips back to your own.
You’re tired of thinking- all you want to do is experience this, experience him, at your fullest- and boy, are you fucking full.
Johnny lets go of your other hand, reaching for your thigh. He adjusts it higher on his hip and suddenly he’s driving into you even deeper.
Your eyes roll into the back of your head and you gasp loudly against his lips. Johnny traces his tongue along your teeth, and you can feel him smirking.
You love that he’s enjoying this- enjoying watching you come completely undone for him.
“You know,” he says, “if you keep squeezing me like that, I’m not going to last long.”
You don’t even care. You know this isn’t the only time you’ll be fucking this man- and after cumming twice already, your body is near its limit of pleasure, if that’s even possible. In fact, there’s something very sexy about making a man cum quicker than he’s used to, and your pussy clenches at the thought.
“Fuck,” Johnny groans again. “Can I flip you over?”
At this point, you’ll agree to any request, and you nod quickly, biting at your lip.
With one last kiss, Johnny pulls away from you. His cock slips out of your core and you whine at the loss, only for his two large hands to grab your waist and manually turn you onto your stomach. Then he adjusts your hips, pulling you up into doggy position.
“If you need to scream, use the pillows,” Johnny warns you, lining up with your pussy again.
The first thrust has you doing exactly that. You bury your face into the pillow, letting out a loud cry as his cock hits deeper than before.
This position might just kill you, but you don’t care.
His hands feel so good- so large and warm and steady on your hips as he finds an even rougher pace.
You can hear your ass smacking loudly against his front with each thrust and it only adds to your arousal.
Bunching your hands up in his duvet, you do your best not to be so loud that the whole frat will hear you. But it’s so difficult not to just melt under him-
You can feel your eyes welling with pleasure-fueled tears, and it drives you crazy.
“Fuck, you like this position, don’t you, pretty girl?”
“Yes, Ghostie!” you gasp, nodding while his cock continues to make you feel like absolute heaven.
“You look fucking perfect like this,” he tells you. “Face down, ass up. Pretty soon you’ll be begging for me to fill you up even more.”
His words flip a switch inside of you. “God, yes, please-” you cry out. “I want it so bad-”
“Want what?”
“Want your cum,” you whimper. “Wanna be so full-”
Johnny groans, grabbing rough fistfuls of your ass while he fucks you even harder.
“I need it, Ghostie, I need it-” You’re crying now, and Johnny notices.
He bends over your back, bracing an arm across your chest so he can lift you onto your knees. He cups your jaw, thumb stroking through a tear track. “Holy shit, Tiny,” he moans, mouth hot against your shoulder.
“Please, Ghostie, please-” you whimper, lower lip trembling-
You’re so close-
Johnny lets go of your jaw, and his hand slips down your front. You jolt when his fingers make contact with your clit, wriggling in his grasp.
“I’m almost there, Tiny,” he admits. “Watching you cum will tip me over the edge- you’ll be good and cum for me, right?”
All you can do is nod. Words are gone. Your mind is blank except for the pleasure that’s coursing through you.
Your noises are getting pitchier, and Johnny works you all the way to your peak. You gasp loudly as you topple over the edge, core clamping down hard on his cock.
Your legs feel like jelly, and Johnny releases you, allowing you to fall to the bed while your orgasm ravages your form. You’re clawing at the sheets, burying your face in his bed to muffle your screams-
His hands are bruising on your hips, and you hear him let out a loud groan. You can feel him filling you up, his motions faltering ever so slightly. His breath is hot against your shoulders and it’s added stimulus that makes you twitch, so completely overwhelmed that it almost feels like you’re about to black out.
But you don’t want to miss a second of this. His groans of pleasure keep you in the moment even as your mind is in a sex daze.
Johnny rides you through your high, thrusts slowing until he comes to a stop behind you.
You’re both breathing heavily now, and Johnny stays still for a moment, enjoying the last of your orgasm aftershocks. Then he flattens his chest to your back, hand falling to the bed next to your own.
“Holy shit,” he breathes.
You can’t help but let out a small laugh, and it makes Johnny groan as your core clenches again.
He kisses your shoulder, lips oddly tender in comparison to the way he just blew your back out.
“Ghostie-” you whimper, wanting to collapse on his bed from exhaustion.
“Stay still, I’ll get something to clean you up,” he assures you, pressing one last kiss to your skin before straightening from your back.
You miss his warmth as soon as he’s gone, and you especially miss his cock when it slides out of you.
You feel him get off the bed, and a moment later, something begins to drip down your inner thighs. He really filled you up, and it makes you twitch. You reach a hand between your legs, cupping your core and rolling onto your back on his bed, trying to breathe properly.
Johnny is back a second later, and you can feel his gaze on you.
“Spread these thighs for me, Tiny,” he says gently, touching your knee.
You open your eyes, and then you open your legs.
Johnny moves your hand out of the way, letting out a groan. “You have no idea how fucking hot this is-” he tells you, wiping your core clean of his cum.
You still don’t have it within yourself to speak, you can only watch him toss the tissue in the garbage before you’re making grabby hands at him.
Johnny laughs. He sits on the bed next to you, leaning against the headboard before scooping you into his lap. He’s so fucking big, and he makes you feel safe cuddled in his arms, your cheek pressed to his chest.
His heart is still racing, and it makes you feel better to know you’re not the only one who’s so affected by this.
Johnny’s fingers begin to thread through your hair, and he simply holds you while you come out of subspace.
The party is still in full swing outside, and it’s an interesting feeling to have such a private moment with Johnny in the middle of a frat on Halloween.
“Do you think anyone heard us?” you ask finally.
Johnny laughs. “Don’t worry about it,” he says soothingly.
You pull away from his chest, looking up at him. His hand moves to cup your face and you press your lips to his. It’s a much gentler kiss than he’d given you mid-fuck, and it eases your racing heart.
“Ghostie?”
“Yeah, Tiny?”
“I like you a lot.”
He lets out another chuckle. “I like you too.”
“We’ll do this again sometime, right?”
“Of course, Tiny.” His hand smooths up and down your back. “I’d also like to take you on dates, if you’ll let me.”
“I’d like that,” you nod, relaxing against his chest again. “And… and when you call me, no more voice modulator.”
“No?”
“I like your voice, your real voice.” God, you’re feeling so soft and mushy for him.
“I like your voice too.” For a second, it’s a sweet moment, and then Johnny continues, “Liked listening to your whimpers.”
He’s such a frat boy, but you kind of love him for it. “Did you like my tears too?”
“Only if they’re for a good reason,” Johnny says. “If anyone else ever makes you cry, I’ll have to fuck them up.”
“My protective Ghostie,” you grin, leaning up to kiss the underside of his jaw.
“As much as I’d love to stay cuddling you forever, I should probably bring the boys some tequila,” Johnny sighs.
“The boys,” you echo. “I feel like I’ve just fucked Mark and Hyuck’s dad.”
“Do you have a daddy kink, Tiny?”
“For you, I have any kink you want,” you laugh.
“I like the sound of that.”
“Just… kiss me again?” you ask. “We can bring tequila after.”
“Are you sure you want to come with? You can stay here and I’ll come back-”
“We should…” you lick your lips, “we should be social.”
“I just fucked your brains out and you want to go be social?” Johnny grins. “Maybe I didn’t work you over well enough.”
“You worked me over perfect,” you laugh, grabbing at his jaw so you can press your lips to his.
Johnny melts into the kiss, and there’s something in it that feels like coming home. You’ve never felt this safe with a guy before, and it’s kind of starting to scare you.
If you were to stay here- you think you might even fall in love with Johnny… that is, if you haven’t already.
You pull away from your Ghostie, letting out a sigh.
Getting out of his lap isn’t fun, and your legs are wobbly as you stand next to the bed, but Johnny’s hands go to your hips to steady you.
When he stands, he towers over you, and you’re overcome by your thirst for him all over again. You wrap your arms around the back of his neck, bringing him in for another kiss.
It’s so easy to get lost in making out with Johnny, but you have to tear yourself away, nodding, “Tequila.”
“Tequila,” he echoes. “Can you stand by yourself?”
“I’m okay,” you assure him, but it still hurts when he lets you go.
Johnny pulls on some sweatpants while you find your dress-
“You’re not putting that back on,” Johnny tells you, moving to his closet. “Let me give you some clothes.”
“Are you trying to announce to Mark and Hyuck that we’ve fucked?” you laugh, accepting the large t-shirt he throws your way.
“Trust me, Tiny, they’ll know.”
“Yeah? How’s that?”
“After this, I won’t be able to keep my hands to myself, and something tells me you won’t be able to either.” Johnny pulls on a hoodie, grabbing the tequila and turning to you. “I know you, remember?”
You grin, pulling on the pair of black boxer shorts he’d also sent your way. “Maybe a little too well.”
“Or not well enough,” Johnny suggests, approaching you again.
“You’re such a sweet talker.”
“Only for you,” he smirks, leaning down to kiss you again. “You look cute in my clothes.”
“Do I look like I just got fucked senseless?”
“Definitely.”
“Mark’s going to hate you,” you laugh.
“He’ll get over it,” Johnny brushes it off, reaching for your hand. “Ready to go?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
“You can still stay here if you want.”
“No, let’s face this now.” You need to be firm, need to get out of this love den before you find yourself even more loved up.
The two of you head to his door and Johnny holds it open for you.
In the time you’ve been fucking, it looks like a lot of people have dispersed from the party, so walking through the hallway isn’t exactly a walk of shame. However, when you get down the stairs to Mark’s floor, you realize you still have to pull up your big girl panties to face him.
“I’m going to run to the bathroom,” you tell Johnny, “I’ll meet you in Mark’s.”
“You don’t want me to come with you?”
“To the bathroom?” you laugh. “I think I’m good.”
With one last kiss, you make your way to the frat bathroom at the end of the hall. It’s important to go pee after sex, for UTI reasons, your sorority big sister has drilled that into you since first year. When you’re done, you head to the sink, daring a look at yourself in the dirty mirror.
You look fucked, but you also look happy.
In fact, you can’t stop smiling.
After washing your hands, you dab some water on your throat, hoping it will calm you down. Once you feel good and ready, you exit the bathroom.
Mark’s door is open when you get to his room, and you poke your head inside.
Jaehyun and Hyuck are on one bed, Mark and Johnny on the other, and they’re all lifting shots to their mouths. As you step inside, Mark’s gaze shifts to you. He takes in your new outfit and his eyes widen, then he spits out his shot, coughing loudly.
Johnny’s hand finds Mark’s back while he practically coughs up a lung, and then Mark is leaping to his feet. “What-” His eyes dart between you and Johnny, and you can see the realization there.
“Jesus, Mark, learn how to handle a shot,” Hyuck scoffs.
Mark doesn’t even entertain Hyuck, he simply turns to his big, pointing an accusatory finger at Johnny’s chest. “You’re Ghostie!?”
Johnny stands up. “You’re the one who gave me her number last year.”
“I what?!” Mark’s eyes are practically bulging out of his head now.
Hyuck and Jaehyun exchange a look, and Hyuck reaches for the tequila to pour another shot.
“Mark, it could be worse-” you say, trying to de-escalate the situation while stepping further into the room.
“How could it be worse!?” Mark bellows. “My Big is a stalker!”
“He’s not a stalker,” you defend Johnny, coming to join your tall new lover, your hand reaching for his.
“You’re her new boss!” Mark insists.
“Hyuck fucked our last bar manager,” Johnny points out.
“Guilty,” Hyuck smirks over the rim of his new shot.
Mark’s still not having any of this situation. “This is fucked up.”
“Mark, I’ve told you a million times, it’s spooky season.” You can’t help but giggle. This has been such a turn of events, but you wouldn’t want it any other way.
“You better not hurt her,” Mark says next, trying to meet Johnny’s gaze even while substantially shorter.
“I won’t,” Johnny promises.
“This is just-” Mark shakes his head. “Fuck this, I need to sleep.”
“We can move the party to my room,” Jaehyun says, already grabbing the bottle of tequila while Hyuck reaches for his bong.
It’s clear Mark’s done talking, and he collapses onto his bed face first like a tantruming toddler. You’ll discuss this with him another day, but you know now is probably not the time to push him to accept that his Big has a whole different side to him that Mark’s never seen.
As you leave the room with Hyuck, Johnny and Jaehyun, Hyuck elbows you in the side. “I always knew you’d end up with one of us.”
“Yeah?” you laugh, gaze shifting to Johnny and Jaehyun who walk a few feet ahead of you.
“Once an NCT girl, always an NCT girl,” Hyuck nods. “And between us…” he leans closer, “Johnny is a good one.”
Your Ghostie looks over his shoulder at you, and you meet his gaze with a smile. “He is,” you agree. “Hey, John?”
“Yes, Tiny?” He stops at the door to the stairwell, holding it open and allowing you to catch up.
“I changed my mind, I think I am done with the party tonight.”
“Yeah?” Johnny smirks. “Gonna come back to my room?”
“If you invite me.”
“Tiny, my room has an open-door policy for you now.”
“Is that so?” you wrap your arms around his neck, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips.
“Uh huh,” Johnny grins. “And free cuddles, anytime you want them.”
“I like the sound of that,” you confess.
“Just get married already!” Hyuck shouts back at the two of you as he climbs the stairs with Jaehyun.
You and Johnny can only laugh at Hyuck. Your willpower is completely gone, and you allow your Ghostie to take you back to his room.
He cuddles you close as the party dies down outside, and you find yourself slipping into the best sleep of your life on Halloween night with your Ghostie by your side.
☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! Halloween is my favourite Holiday, and there's something about Johnny and horror genre that makes me go feral
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🔮 preview. There’s no way he should be this fucking sexy. You’re outside in the cold, parkas on, a Santa hat on his head, a joint between his lips, both your jeans down to your knees, his hand over your mouth to stifle your moans, and he’s about to fuck you against a wall with his massive cock- you’ve decided that Johnny as a whole is simply illegal.
cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, exhibitionism in an alley, weed use, slight temperature play, big dick Johnny, quickie, cum kink/filling panties with cum while at work, praise, dirty talk, size kink, hand over mouth silencing, choking, etc… I pet names: (hers) Tiny, pretty girl, good girl. (his) Ghostie.
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.5k I teaser wc. 275
🌙 staring. Johnny x afab!reader
bonus
You’ve been dating Johnny for a month and a half and you still can’t get enough of him. Whenever you pop over to the frat, it’s not long before one of you is dragging the other to his room. There’s never been sexual chemistry like there is for you and your Ghostie.
You’d never thought your biggest hurdle in the workplace would be refraining from jumping your bar manager, but here you are, every shift, practically drooling over him. Each brush of his hands across your body as he moves behind you to grab something makes you want to tear his clothes off, and your patience is at an all-time low.
With Christmas fast approaching, the bar scene has substantially dwindled, and it’s making you even more needy. When Skeets only has a handful of customers, you fill drink orders while thinking about sucking on Johnny’s cock.
It doesn’t help that he’s started wearing a Santa hat- why does it make him even sexier?
As Johnny smiles and makes casual conversation with a pair of girls sitting at the bar, you do your best to calm yourself. At the end of the night, you’ll be the one in Johnny’s bed, you just have to get to closing.
You notice in the periphery of your vision that the girls are finishing up with their drinks. Johnny excuses himself to grab the card reader, and as he slips past your ass, you feel his hard cock in his jeans. It’s difficult to stifle a moan, and you do so by biting on your lip.
He loves teasing you, especially while you’re at work, and it drives you absolutely mental.
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#johnny suh#johnny suh smut#nct#nct smut#nct 127#nct 127 smut#johnny nct#johnny nct smut#nct johnny smut#nct johnny#frat nct#frat nct smut#frat johnny smut#frat johnny suh#frat johnny suh smut
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Jury Duty
Danny has been living his best life in Gotham, hiding from the GIW but mostly moving forward with his life. (College, job, whatever)
Until his name is drawn for jury duty.
He complains to his friends. They bring up a few interesting points. Shouldnt being dead disqualify him? Eventually the anti ecto acts are brought up. Can the government enforce jury duty on a citizen that was declared legally non-sentient?
Now, it might not have been danny's smartest idea, but he replies to the summons with a "cant, i died," attaching a copy of the anti ecto acts and a short argument that its hypocritical of the government to strip him of his rights but still expect him to fulfill his civic responsibilities.
Whatever government desk job gets danny's reply to the summons thinks its a joke at first (theyre no stranger to the colorful and creative excuses people come up with to try to get out of jury duty), but danny provided all the right paperwork and instructions for them to jump through all the hoops necessary to locate the obscure law. They send it higher up the chain of command.
But this is Gotham. After several days of ruminating over the strange law, they decide to leave a tip on the bats' hotline (set up and maintained by Oracle). The whole situation felt a bit left of reality, and they weren't paid enough to deal with that shit. And if the government really was the problem here (look, they might have landed a secure government-funded desk job, but they were a grunt and held no loyalty to the government that continuously screwed over their home city), then merely passing the buck meant it would get covered up instead of exposed.
Oracle gets the message and starts digging, determining that this is A Big Problem, Actually. First order of business is to track down this Danny guy and give him a bat-level security detail. Second order is to push this to the Justice league.
The thing is, the giw had successfully hidden themselves from the justice league up until now. They covered their tracks, took care of loose ends. The laws were written to look like pest control.
They never considered that someone would respond to a jury duty sommons with "cant, im dead." First of all, they dont know about halfas, who could be dead without ever being legally declared. Secondly, why would a ghost pretend to be alive? Thirdly, why would they blow their cover? ("Sir, its *jury duty.*" "point withdrawn.")
It was pure chance that the desk job took it seriously enough to report it, and oracle only recognized the threat as it was because she made the logical leap from ectoplasm to lazarus water.
The bats investigate by intercepting danny's summons. Fortunately, the higher up decided it was a joke and didnt share it any further. Unfortunately, they told danny that he better show up for jury duty, come hell or high water.
That route blocked, they hack in a jury summons for jason todd. Being Actually Legally Dead, with all the paperwork correctly filed, means that he would never actually get a summons, but they need someone on this inside that clearly falls into the same category as danny to keep a close eye on him.
Anyways, this was a long and twisted set up to get not one, but two individuals in the same jury duty line up claiming they "cant, i died."
#dp x dc#probably a stupid idea#inspired by the post that said:#danny “cant i died” fenton vs jason “cant im dead” todd
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is it casual now?
chapter 1
summary: you and ellie agreed that this was just for a little fun - so what's the harm in her inviting you to joel's for a movie night?
word count: 2.3k
tags: nsfw, fingering (e and r receiving), angst, dub con?? i think?, does this count as public sex?, this shit's messy af y'all, mean reader, toxic relationship
a/n: i've wanted to write a fic based off this song for a while now. i've seen a few people write it (the song's a banger) but i only ever see ellie being written as the distant toxic one and tbh i don't think that matches her character so here's the opposite
also i hid a one last stop reference in here if you find it you get a prize (it's not hard to find)
if you wanna be tagged in the things i post, just lmk in the replies!
Joel was trying to decide what movie you should watch.
At least, Ellie thought he was. She could see the way his lips were moving - could even make out the words Dawn of the Wolf, whatever that meant - but she couldn’t actually hear him. She sat across from him at the dining table, nodding along, trying to school her expression into a pantomime of interest, but his words were drowned out by the ringing in her ears.
Your hand on her thigh crept higher.
Ellie shifted in the uncomfortable wood chair, uncrossing her legs only to recross them, and your hand didn’t move. You stroked slow circles into her jeans with your thumb; she would have thought it was absentminded if she didn’t know you so well. Ellie could see you in her peripheral. You smiled politely, nodding along as Joel listed off what movies he had found lately - it had become his mission to hunt for them while he was on patrol. (He always insisted that Ellie needed to be familiar with all the classics from before the outbreak.)
Somewhere past the sound of her heart pounding in her ears, Ellie heard Joel say her name. She blinked, shifted in her seat again, and replied intelligently, “Huh?”
He shook his head at her and laughed as he said, “Where you at, kiddo?”
She ran a hand through her hair, purposely avoiding looking at you - she knew she’d only find that shit-eating smile on your face. “Sorry, had patrol late last night. Yeah, that movie sounds cool.” She had no idea what movie he had suggested.
It didn’t matter much in the end. After switching off the lights, Joel sat back in his big old recliner (he’d looked like a fucking kid on Christmas morning when Tommy gave that to him), leaving the couch to you and Ellie. You leaned into her with your head on her shoulder; she had her arm draped over the back of the couch, not quite touching you. She was dancing a fine line between wanting to hold you and knowing you wouldn’t let her, but the tightrope was slipping from under her feet because you had put your fucking hand on her thigh again. She’d swear there was a damn magnet connecting your hand to her.
Ellie covered a gasp with a cough when your hand drifted between her legs. Your eyes were glued to the flickering television, but there was no hiding the small, satisfied smile on your lips. And she fucking hated herself for wanting to kiss it more than anything.
The tattered blanket you shared covered up the fact that the tips of your fingers were grazing across the seam of her jeans. Even the ghost of friction made her squirm, the movie becoming nothing more than white noise. You were too fucking bold, and her head spun when your nimble fingers undid the button and slid the zipper down so slowly it ached. When your fingertips dipped below the waistband of her boxers, she couldn’t stop herself from glancing at Joel. He was enthralled in the movie, and she couldn’t even pay attention to it; she hated herself for that too.
She knew she shouldn’t; she knew she should’ve grabbed your wrist, told you to stop so she could just enjoy the movie with her… with Joel. He’d been trying to plan a movie night with her for a week, and tonight she had finally been free from patrol. God, she shouldn’t have invited you, but when he asked if she wanted to bring a friend, of course your name had popped up.
She should have known it would be a mistake - an intoxicating one, but a mistake nonetheless. And when you dragged your fingers over her, pressing the lightest pressure to her clit, it took everything in her not to tilt her hips against your hand in search of friction.
Ellie bit down on her lip so hard she'd swear she tasted blood when you dipped just the tips of your fingers inside her. It was embarrassing how easy it was - how wet she already was and you had hardly even touched her. But when you circled her clit, your fingers already soaked, the shame burning in her chest evaporated. Her eyes fluttered, heat burning in her stomach, your touch setting her aflame. Her fingers dug into the back of the couch. She longed to touch you, to just wrap her arm around you and hold you close, press your head to her chest so you could hear how her heart reached for you.
Instead, she could only grip the couch behind your shoulder, gritting her teeth against the ache of it. You didn't even look at her, playing with her as though it were an afterthought, but there was no missing the smirk on your lips. She hated it; God, she wanted to kiss you.
Ellie didn't dare look at Joel - she didn't think she could handle seeing him so engrossed in the movie he had been so excited to show her while she sat only a few feet away, coming undone on his couch. She couldn't handle the shame rising in her throat again. If she looked at him, she was sure she'd be sick right there.
She tried so hard to keep it together - her hips ached from the force of holding them still, her lip surely cracked from biting it. Her chest burned with the moans she had to swallow like acid. But she couldn't keep it all in - it was overflowing. And when finally, the coil in her stomach threatening to snap, a low groan spilled from her lips, Joel turned to look at her.
Ellie didn't want to think about what he saw, but whatever it was, it made his brow pinch in concern. She couldn't meet his worried eyes when he said, “You okay, kiddo? You don't look too good.”
Your fingers hadn't even fucking slowed. You looked at her with a mask of concern, batting your eyes so innocently even as you pressed your fingers into her, curling them so you hit that spot that made her see stars. And then Ellie did grab you, gripping your shoulder in warning and glaring down at you. You wrinkled your nose, but relented and slid your fingers out of her; her grip tightened when you slid back over her clit. Fuck, she never should've invited you.
Ellie cleared her throat; she couldn't look at either of you without feeling sick, so she turned her gaze to the movie. What was it even about?
“Sorry, I just-” Her voice was strained, suffocating in her own throat. She felt like she was going to swallow her own tongue. The coil in her stomach tightened and she felt nauseous. She groaned again, and the words tripped over themselves in a rush when she said, “I don't feel good.”
Ellie stumbled to her feet, forcing you to withdraw your hand; when she glanced down, she could see that your fingers were wet and it made her stomach twist. Keeping one hand over her stomach to hide the fact that her fucking pants were undone, she hurried from the room, ignoring Joel when he called after her. She couldn't look him in the eye or else she might actually puke.
Making a beeline for the bathroom, Ellie slammed the door behind her and leaned against it, the wood cold against her back. She took a deep breath, counting the cracks in the ceiling until her heart finally stopped bashing against her ribs, her throat burning. Pinprick tears stung her eyes as she fixed her pants, her fingers shaking so hard she could hardly grasp the button.
Cursing under her breath, Ellie braced her hands on the bathroom sink, her shoulders sagging. Her eyes were rimmed red; she scrubbed her hands over her face roughly, willing her stomach to settle.
She shouldn’t have been upset, really. The first time your hand had found its way into her pants, all those months ago, you had made it perfectly clear what this was. She could still hear your voice from that night, saccharine sweet and smelling like the whiskey you had nabbed from her cabinet: Come on, Els, Jackson’s so boring. We can just have a little fun, right? She remembered the weight of your body when you climbed onto her lap, your thighs warm on either side of her hips, your hands pressing her back against the couch. She could still feel the way your breath had ghosted over her neck, your voice dripping with honeyed desire: It's just a little fun.
Her own eyes looked so unfamiliar, a stranger peering at her from the bathroom mirror.
Cursing again, she turned on the faucet, bending to splash water on her face - it was December and the water was so cold it numbed her hands. It was a welcome relief against her burning skin.
Ellie felt so fucking dirty it hurt. No matter how she scrubbed at her skin, rubbing it raw, she couldn’t seem to rid herself of it. The cold water stung her cheeks.
A knock on the door made her jump, cold water splashing down the front of her shirt. She cursed, pulling the damp fabric away from her chest with a grimace before calling, “Give me a minute, okay?”
But you had never been very good at listening, had you? You didn’t even look surprised when you pushed the door open, ignoring her protest, and found Ellie leaning against the counter, water still dripping from her chin. If anything, you looked almost amused, quirking an eyebrow at her. It was the look you gave her every time you got her worked up, your eyes showing the laughter you bit back. She fucking hated that look.
Ellie glared over her shoulder at you, but there was no real malice behind it - even when she hated you, something in her still softened when you were around. A switchblade girl with a cotton candy heart.
You closed the door softly behind you, leaning back against it with a smug smile that she wanted to wipe off your face - she just wasn’t sure how she wanted to yet. Ellie could hear how your ego tinted your voice when you said, “Joel sent me to check on you. Probably thinks you're barfing your guts out or something.”
Ellie rolled her eyes, looking away from you and mumbling, “Yeah, I guess dinner didn’t sit well….”
You scoffed and the sound went straight to her stomach. She felt rather than saw you step behind her; she tensed when you placed your hands on her hips, leaning forward to put your chin on her shoulder. Her hands gripped the edges of the sink so hard she thought the porcelain might crack. She could feel the heat of your body all the way down her back, your hips pressing into her ass, and her traitorous heart fluttered embarrassingly.
Ellie met your eyes in the reflection, watching as your smile grew into something almost mocking. You placed a kiss on the back of her neck, pressing your words into her skin: “Damn, Els, I didn’t know Dawn of the Wolf got you so hot and bothered.” Your fingers pressed into her hips, pulled her back against you. She failed to smother the sigh it pulled from her. She hated how it made your smile widen, and she hated even more how much she wanted to fucking kiss it off your stupid face. She shivered when she felt your teeth graze over her neck, and almost missed it when you muttered, laughing, “God, you’re so fucking easy, you know that?”
Ellie shoved away from the counter, spinning on her heel and grabbing your wrist before you could flinch away. You had only blinked before she slammed you back against the wall, praying that Joel didn’t hear it. Her fingers wrapped so tightly around your wrist she could feel your pounding pulse, pressing it to the wall above your head. She slipped her thigh between your legs, pressing up into you, and she only had a moment to register that smug fucking grin before she slapped a hand over your mouth. She relished in the way your eyes flashed in something akin to fear. She had to find wins where she could, right?
Leaning forward so her nose brushed yours, Ellie growled into the back of her hand, “Don’t make a fucking sound.”
And she did get to wipe that cocky smile off your face. She kept her hand over your mouth, releasing your wrist to snake her arm between your legs. She muffled your moans, hissing when your nails dug into her biceps.
Joel was in the next room, she thought distantly. Joel was in the next room, watching the movie he had been so excited to show her. He was in the next room, concerned about her, waiting for her, and here she was pressing her best friend into the wall of his bathroom. She had your pants around your ankles, two - three - fingers pushing into you. She could feel the vibrations of your moans against her hand - she wanted to press her lips to yours and swallow them, knowing you would never let her.
It came too fast, Ellie pressing into you relentlessly if only to make you fucking shut up for once. Your body shuddered against her, and she wanted to hold you through it, but by the time it was over you were already pushing her away. When her hand fell from your mouth, you were smiling again. Maybe she was going to be sick after all.
@filtered-sunlight
#are you proud of me that this isn't 10k words#idk how many chapters i'll write#i'm kinda winging it rn#ellie tlou#ellie williams#ellie williams smut#ellie williams x reader#ellie x reader#ellie x fem reader#lesbian smut#ellie x you#ellie the last of us#ellie williams tlou#tlou smut#tlou angst#this is p angsty
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Sniffle any louder
Natasha Romanoff x reader
Minors dni!! Masterlist°•☆
Summary - when you show up to work il lit aggravates Natasha that is until she sees your dire state
Warnings - mention of illness, nonsexual nudity, hurt comfort, as usual not proofread
Word count - 2k
A/n - I started rushing at the end because I wanted to have it out by tonight so the ending might not be as good srry
Fractures of pain shot through your aching body like icicles as you left the team meeting. God how you wished you'd just admitted you were ill this morning instead of letting your pride get in the way and pretended to the team that you were right as rain. I guess that's what happens when your on a team with literal super soldiers, you too start believing your above any illness or injury. Oh, but how wrong you realised you were when this flu hit you like a ton of bricks. The combined migraine alongside with the distrsssing chill of your bones left little energy left for you to do anything except lie down and rest, which you hated to admit and wouldn't ever given the choice, despite how sickly you'd begun to look.
Your usual bright eyes full of life and wonder became dull and bloodshot from the lack of sleep your blocked nose had caused you the previous night when you chose to ignore it. The skin on your face that was often painted a rosy colour now paled almost deathly looking, comparable to that of a ghost. Your unshakable senses, often remarked as some of the best had become overworked and dulled from the sickness using up all your remaining energy causing you not to notice people around you until they had begun to speak. The gravelly gasping and choking noises that spluttered from your inflamed throat were foreign to your usual bubbly voice.
Despite these stark and clear changes in not only your physical appearance but also how you carried yourself around the compound you had tricked yourself, somehow, into the belief no one around you would notice. Obviously you were unwell anyone could see that from a mile off and if you didn't think out of a house full of spies, enhanced beings and military personnel that not one of them would pick up on something up with you then you must have been seriously down with something.
Unlucky for you someone did notice after your sniffling had interupted their train of thought for the seventh time, it didn't take a genuis but she'd been ignoring the signs since you arrived. Natasha Romanoff had been trying to reread and correct a badly written mission report written by an incompetent intern. This had already been stressful enough for her without the woman next to her trying to desperately through her blocked nose instead of just going home. The first time she actually noticed something was up was when you nearly walked into the door, stumbling around like bambi on ice. This was something someone with your spacial awareness and high senses would never manage to do if they were as okay as they were telling everyone they were. She spotted it again when you began to cough like a smoker and at that like someone who smoked at least five packs a day, a thing she knew you were not. You'd told her a while back that despite your bad habits which were endless and definitely on show today that you never wanted to smoke because it reminded you of your mother. So unless you'd switched up on that which she very much doubted and had taken up chain smoking the answer was clear; you were ill, very ill.
She also questioned why you were even here, how you were even here. Natasha would leap at the first chance to avoid these dull meetings even if it meant admitting illness to the rest of the group. She'd actually faked being ill before to skip debriefs and instead head to the gym. At one point she had no clue how you were even still able to be alive and functioning with how shallow your breaths were. Everytime your mouth opened a disgusting noise alike to the disgust she felt at nails on a chalk board rung from deep in your throat. Aswell your ever scratcher voice that was beginning to drive her insane. It was one thing to come in sick, it was another to make yourself more ill by working harder than usual.
This had made her angry more than anything, angry at your selflessness. Angry no one else would ever do this, including herself. Angry you put working above your own physical health. Angry that you'd risk everyone else getting ill instead of taking a sick day. Angry you couldnt just admit your illness and leave.
Your eighth sniffle really sent Natasha over the edge as she turned to look dead at you and gave you a menacingly dirty look. A scowl that could kill glowering into your soul. Yet in feverly state you could hardly even register the spy looking in your direction as you still tried to process something said in conversation several minutes ago. Throughout the rest of the meeting she sideyed, scowled, gritted teeth, frowned, muttered under breath and cursed in your direction much to you ignorance. On an average day you could recognise what emotion someone was going through just by being in the same room as them and the tone of their breath but right now even with Natasha directly next you, practically right in your face you couldn't pick up a single negative emotion.
After the meeting you quickly stumbled in the direction of your room, hoping to avoid anyone on the way there, which you managed with much ease despite your worsening condition. Once you reached your room you shut the door without bothering with the lock. Stripped to your underwear and crawled back into bed without a sound. Curling up under your soft thick duvets you shivered and slowly cried yourself into a feverish slumber.
Natasha stayed behind to finish her reports, which she easily could have done hours ago without your incessant coughing and sniffling and all round ill noises. It only infuriated her more as she worked quickly, alone and welcoming the silence since the end of the meeting. When she finished up the work she was just about ready to give you a piece of her mind. And thats what she was gonna do. She had strong feelings about you prioritisation of work over wellness and she was gonna share them with you whether you wanted to hear or not.
Easily, she threw open your door and it hit the wall with a bang, enraged she didnt notice your crumpled whimpering figure writhing under the duvet.
"Sniffle a little louder next meeting." She comments loudly and sarcastically before instantly wincing at the sight of you in the bed.
Instantly her whole demeanour changes into one of care and pure unhidden worry. Natasha crouched over your trembling figure on the bed. Quickly she removed the pile of blankets from overtop and pressed a palm to your forhead before just as swiftly pulling it away with a frown. You were boiling 38°c at the very least and yet your body was still shivering. Without thinking twice Natasha knew the best thing for you was a cold, very cold shower.
She carried your somehow still sleeping figure easily into the bathroom as if you were no more than a light weight to her, which you probably were considering her max dead lift. Gently and ever so carefully she sat you down in the bath before turning the cool shower on next to you. Adjusting it so the water pressure was lower than usual so that it maybe less of a shock for when you fully woke.
Soon after the water began to flow your eyes opened to the hazy view before you. Natasha knelt over the bath making sure you were just alright. When you noticed the water and the bath, definitely not where you fall asleep you began to panic. Quickly flailing much like a fish out of water. Thrashing to get out the bath and attempting to scrabble to your feet. Natasha noticed your sudden frenzy and much quicker than you could, grabbed a hold of your hands halting your movements while whispering affirming words to you.
"Shh sh its okay. Your just in the bath, don't worry were just trying to soothe your fever." She begins to rub your palms slowly in a way which soothes you and instantly slows your panic as you go to rest your head on the bathroom wall.
"Hm don't do that darling. Try and stay awake while your in the bath, just for now." She's says quietly afraid to worsen the headache you already had as she coaxes your head off the wall. "That's it good girl. You can do this."
Her small praises would have usually annoyed you and felt almost condescending but right now they were almost enough to make you smile. She was making you feel as if your feeble attempts to stay conscious were really doing anything.
"M' so tired." You mumbled out a response that slumped together into your mouth so it was barely understandable to Natasha yet she still smiled and nodded at you, not wanting you to feel any worse than you already did.
"That's okay sweet girl, the sooner we get you out the bath and some medicine down you the sooner you can sleep." All the while she kept rubbing at your hands and fingers to keep you grounded in the moment. "I'm going to find you some fresh clothes just stay here."
You nodded but the minute Natasha left your head flopped back against the wall as if magnetised towards it. Upon her return with fresh clothes Natasha tutted.
"You really aren't well, are you?" A small attempt at a nod on your part did not surprise her one bit. "See if you told someone earlier we wouldn't be here right now. You have to ask for help when you need it." She knew her words meant little to you in your current state but she wanted to start bedding them in now nonetheless.
"Now, do you need help getting dressed? There's no shame in needing the help."
"Uhm.. I think a bit." Your response was croaky and your voice was beginning to sound worse by the second.
"That's okay, I'll help you then." She gives you a hand getting out the bath and holds you upright as she helps fully undress you. In her panic to get you in the bath she hadn't thought to remove what you were wearing.
You weren't insecure about your body but something like this would usually not be on with you. But right now you knew you couldn't refuse the help Natasha was offering as you could barely even stand still yourself. So begrudgingly you allowed her to undo your bra and slip off your underwear before tossing them in the bath saying something about getting them to the wash later. Putting on the fresh clothes was easier than either of you anticipated as you didn't resist and her strength helped you from falling against the cold tile floor.
Natasha helped you hobble back towards your bed which you instantly fell against ready to embrace sleep again.
"Ah. Not so quick, first the medicine then sleep." She said softly handing you first a couple pills and some water. "For your headache." Begrudgingly you took them and Natasha smiled as she saw the look of grimace on your face finding it both amusing and adorable. "Okay sweet girl just the syrup left, this will help for your throat." You stared at the syrup in your hand with a frown. Just the smell of its contents was enough to make you dry heave and its colour wasn't tempting either. After two minutes of more convincing and praise you managed to stomach it, not all of it but enough so Natasha was happy enough to stop bothering you.
You knew after that you could finally emmerse yourself in a blissful slumber and with little care curled up, face pressing into Natasha who watched over you as you slept making sure nothing interupted your much needed rest.
Tags: @wandasfifthwife @yanaromanov @idkwhatever580 @stayevildarling
#natasha x reader#natasha romanov#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff fluff#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha x you#natasha x y/n#natasha romanoff x you#natasha x fem!reader#natasha romanoff x female#natasha romanoff x fem!reader#hurt/comfort natasha romanoff#sickfic#fanfic#natasha Romanoff sickfic#marvel natasha#natasha mcu#natasha avengers
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do you have any ghostsoap favorite fics, perhaps?
boy do I....
I should preface this by saying that I'm pretty...particular with what types of fics I enjoy reading (I only like certain character interpretations/tropes/writing styles, etc) so bear with me...
These are all mostly canon-compliant, non-AUs, ones that I regard highly~
Seasons--by StinglessWasp: This is pretty much my go-to fic rec for anyone into CoD and ghostsoap in general. It showcases everything I love about these characters, in a setting that feels as authentic to the games as possible, while also exploring the depth and sincerity hidden under the surface. So well-written and paced--the dialogue and military references all contribute to that 'feels like a mission out of the game' experience. Plus, I just love this interpretation of our boys--the humor, the inner struggles, the intimacy--Wasp 100% *gets* these characters and it's a joy to read <3
Except You, You Can Stay--by Iravaid: While this one isn't *technically* ghostsoap until the last chapter, in my opinion, it's required reading for anyone who gives a shit about Simon Riley. This is *the* character study--an intimate dissection of Ghost's past that seems so realistic and grounded, you forget how ludicrous those comics really are. Ira takes such care in treating these heavy topics with delicacy and effectiveness. Each chapter has you going 'oh wow, this is even better than the last', but as a whole--it's a stunning, fleshed-out glimpse into Simon as the character he was always meant to be. And the final chapter which eases you into his relationship with Johnny is so authentic and sweet, it just makes perfect sense that they should be together, and that this poor poor man deserves some goddamn love <3
bleeding in the house of god--by revolvermonkcelot: This is a really great 'missing scene' fic, a perfect opportunity to explore the in-between moments that the game so carelessly chooses to gloss over. I can't praise Monk's writing enough--it's slick and crisp and very tasty; the imagery just jumps off the page and you can practically feel the sweat. Plus, the dialogue exchanges between our two boys are so well-timed and in-character--love all the slang and British references~ This whole fic reads like an addition to their mission flirting, and I'm all for it! You can truly tell this author has such deep understanding and experience with this franchise (winkwinkwink, this is a joke) Read it--it's good!
The Dead are all Living--by Kabbal: This fic blew me away when I first read it. It's such a unique take on the retirement trope, I just adore this interpretation of Simon as an aging recluse while he builds his home. I tend to lean towards more subtle, grounded characterizations of Mr Riley, and this really fits the bill. All of these glimpses and fragments into his post-military life contribute to an overarching love story; the scenes with Johnny are so poignant, it's like you're pining alongside them both. I love how not-perfect they are; flawed and difficult and real. There are some moments and lines that just....struck something in me so deeply. I'm sure I'll still be thinking about it for a long long time <3
Portrait of Taction--by a_platypus: Another Simon-centric fic that I absolutely love. The character voice in this is off the charts, I can hear him so vividly in all of his inner dialogue and stunted attempts at conversation. Simon is so endearingly dense in this fic, you're just waiting for him to finally get his act together, but the clumsy, oblivious steps he takes in his relationship with Soap are truly a treat to read. I love this version of Johnny too--confident and considerate, but still hopelessly crushing on his superior. It's comedic, well-written, and the paragraphs describing Soap's journal give some of the best insights into his character I've seen <3
come on, haunt me--by flyby2: This was a really good long fic that I took my time savoring. What could have been a typical 'on leave' fic instead took time to develop a unique spin on the backstories as well as throwing our boys into some wholesome encounters. Both Soap and Ghost felt very true to character, and I appreciate the exploration of PTSD and the subsequent struggles that come along with...all that. There was a really nice balance in having their romance spread across the chapters, and I can promise a very sweet, happy conclusion <3
in the mess of it all--by flowersferns: A lovely one-shot that exhibits some of my favorite aspects of these two characters. I'm a sucker for 'one of them is hurt, the other is freaking out, they are both idiots in love, etc'. There are some really great dialogue and character moments in this, plus the overall prose hits hard. Love this take on their romance--the mutual trust, the familiarity of their bond. And just the general theme of impermanence--the inevitability of what this relationship means for them--two soldiers, willing and ready to sacrifice their lives at a moment's notice, still clinging to each other because...god...that's all they have---big fan of this :'D <3
Lapsus--by Lisbetadair: Another really great one-shot and 'missing scene' fic. The authenticity in the writing is spot-on--it's like you can feel Soap's pain right off the bat. I love how smoothly the banter flows between the two, and the attention to detail and references all help lend to that 'hardened military man' exterior. Ghost smelling like flowers because of a face wipe is such a delightful addition, plus the scene where Soap is, ah, donald-ducking it in just a t-shirt with his jewels out is such a funny mental image, I still think of it fondly from time to time. It's funny, it's surprisingly cute, it's very in-character. Stick around for some awkward but adorable cuddles <3
I'm sure I have more to recommend, but these are the ones I can personally endorse for now~
#asks#fic rec#I've never actually done a fic rec list like this before...#a small glimpse into my nightly routine of browsing the ao3 trenches for something remotely readable 🫡#funny how most of these are Ghost centric...#I'm *very* particular on how I prefer Soap to be portrayed and wooo boy...is it a struggle 😔
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For the dialogue prompts, how about our Bucky with 17. "I can't lose you, baby. I've already lost too much." ? Please and thanks wonderful Miss Navy!!!
Some Days
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: Bucky gets scared some days that he'll lose you.
Word Count: Over 500
Warnings: Mild sexual content, slight angst, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: An overprotective prompt ficlet that could turn into more. Nat, I hope you like it ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
Bucky took you right to bed when he came home safely from his recent mission. Some days he needed to forget the weight of the unfair burdens he carried. As many times as he was unwillingly wiped, he would forever remember the horrors. The nightmares served as a reminder. He didn’t want to let them consume him.
He would drown in sorrow if he did.
“One more, baby,” he ordered gruffly, thrusting deep and helping you ride out your orgasm. “Give me one more.”
Some days forgetting meant taking you until he had his fill. He still had your hand above your head, your fingers laced together as he stretched his body over yours. He pulled another orgasm from you before he filled you to the brim. Pinned beneath him, you remembered that you belonged to him. And he’d never forget that he had someone worth fighting for.
Someone worth protecting.
“Talk to me,” you urged, focusing on him through the fog of pleasure.
“I get scared some days,” he whispered, still buried inside you.
“You? Scared?” You asked, touching his cheek. Like always, he leaned into your hand. Where one of you went, the other followed. “I find that hard to believe.”
“It's true. Because some days I wake up and I worry when you're not there beside me,” he said, his voice as gentle as his kisses. “I can't breathe properly until I see your face or hear your voice.”
The wonderful ache between your thighs was a contrast to the one in your heart at his stormy gaze. Ghosts haunted the man you loved, but you would find ways to chase them away. “I don’t want you to worry. I'm here and I'm not going anywhere.”
“My job is dangerous and I’m not always here,” he reminded you. There was always the chance that he’d never come home to you. But wasn’t life in general unpredictable? “I have enemies.”
“I know. And I know how to protect myself. You taught me, remember?” You pointed out. He made sure you knew how to fight. “And I'm still not going anywhere, Bucky.”
You gasped when he shifted his hips, his weight settling over you. “I can't lose you, baby,” he said, his eyes so intense that you nearly shrank under his gaze. But you weren’t afraid of how much he loved you because you loved him just as strongly. “I've already lost too much.”
Bucky Barnes lost almost everything. Time. Family. Autonomy. It wasn’t fair. He didn’t deserve it.
He deserved love and you’d be there to give it to him.
“You won’t lose me,” you whispered.
He sighed, your words like a balm to an invisible wound. “Still love me?”
“Always,” you promised, pulling him down for a tender kiss.
Bucky was home and you would wake up beside him in the morning, but life was unpredictable. Someone would try to take you away soon. Someone with a grudge against the man who captured your heart.
And that someone would soon discover that messing with Bucky’s girl was a death wish.
Who do we think is dumb enough to go after Bucky's girl? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
#navybrat writes#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x female!reader#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky x female reader#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fanfiction#james buchanan barnes#the winter soldier#sebastian stan#bucky barnes smut#sebastian stan x reader#winter soldier#bucky barnes fic
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Our Strengths
"What do we do now? Tucker asked. His voice cracking with stress and worry as he stared at the scene before him not able to look away as his best friend and his family were being dragged out of their home.
Danny cuffed in anti-ghost cuffs and knocked the heck out with a ecto-gun pointed at his skull by one of the GIW agents, they eventually tossed Danny into their van that was parked right outside the Fenton Works. Jazz was pleading, begging them to let her brother go, even though she too was cuffed and not caring that another gun was at her back. Maddie was hissing like angry feral mama cat at the two agents, ignoring the other two that were holding her shoulders to keep her from squirming around and saying "you dare touch a single hair on my babies I will rip-" before she too was lead away to the GIW van. The last to come out was Jack and he looked haunted and stressed, and despite being a huge guy he was trying to make himself look small. He too was sent into the van, and one of the last things Tucker could see before the doors close was Jack kneeling down next to Danny and going to cradle him but being stopped by the GIW agent in the van.
Sam chewed on her lip, her eyes wide and wild as she tried to think of... well anything to save her friend and his family from this.
To think Vlad would be so petty after Danny finally told his parents about being Phantom and them accepting and loving him regardless and even apologizing for trying to hurt him that he would go and tattle to the GIW about Phantom.
Danny hadn't even told them about Vlad being a halfa either. Not even a bit. All Danny told them was that Vlad made him super uncomfortable. About how the guy seemed obsessed with his mom but seemed to be shifting his obsession to him.
And for once Jack listened, especially after Maddie finally told him the times the man flirted with her and had even tried getting her to leave Jack. With only Danny. No mention of Jazz, only Danny.
After that Jack turned papa bear mode.
Say what you will about Jack Fenton but his love for his family outweighs any kind of friendship.
So yeah Vlad finding himself being 'cut out' of the Fenton's lives, realizing the only times he could even get close to Maddie and Danny was because Jack was always welcoming to him, and finding out Jack point blank said he no longer wanted him around his family, he raged and decided to get back at Danny was to go tell the GIW about him being Phantom.
No doubt the creep was going to show up later, 'save' them and start making demands or indebt them to him.
And now here they were. The Fenton's, after being told about Phantom, were being unjustified hauled away by the GIW while all of Amity watches from the streets and despite the protest from, mostly teens, Amity Parkers no one could do anything with both weapons pointed at them or the 'law' decree.
Closing her eyes, Sam took a breath. When she opened them back up she finally looked away as the van and the rest of the GIW began to leave, her hands clutched so tight that her knuckles were turning a deadly white. When she finally released her grip she felt something in her hand.
Confused, Sam opened her hand and gasped as she recognized a familiarish green sticky note and words written in purple ink. She's never read any of the sticky notes CW would send Danny but she has seen them appear out of no where.
She read the note, ignoring Tuckers questioning, and once done she snapped her head to look at him. It was so fast that Tucker jumped for a second. Her eyes were alight with a new found kindle of hope, determination, and a plan.
"Sam? What is it?" Tucker finally asked once more, he had a feeling whatever she had in mind was going to be insane but if it sent by CW and meant to save his best friend he'd do it.
"We play into our strengths and get some help." She said as she brought the sticky note up for him to see.
"Help? From who?" Tucker asked as he took the note and instantly noticed the drawn symbols on the bottom. When he snapped his head back up to look at Sam his mouth fell open and he said in shock, awe, and disbelief "No. No way. Them? But I thought-"
"Gonna stop you right there Tucker. Remember what Dani told us last month? About that new under the radar teen hero group?" Sam cut in.
"OOoooh. Them.... Yeah I can totally get behind asking them over asking the adults." Tucker responded, his mind coming up with a plan as the sticky note words played into his head 'Use your strengths'
"Good we have no time to loose. I'll contact Dani to find out where we can find their base, you get ready to hack and find what you can so I can use it to help... persuade them into helping us."
-x-x-
Young Justice was having a normal, well as normal as a bunch of super-powered and very well trained teens could have day.
Or at least it was until their comms and entire system were hacked by an unknown hacker, a goth girl appearing on their main sceen and her saying this
"Hey, Young Justice right? Look I'll be blunt about this. We need help, our best friend and his family got taken by some shady government jerks that wanna experiment on him and we need to save them. It's a long story. However, we do not like the JL too much and don't trust them, we have our reasons, so to make sure you don't go crying to them, we're taking your systems hostage and blackmailing you with things our hacker found out." Her eyes narrowed at them, her face in a scowl and it left no room for negotiations at all, she was determined to get things her way "So that's the deal. Help us save our best friend and his family while not letting the JL know, and we let go of your systems and forget about what we found out."
#danny phantom dc#danny phantom#danny fenton#crossover#dp x dc#blue rambles#writing ideas#random idea#dpxdc#sam manson#tucker foley#good fenton family!#Tucker hacks and taks over the YG systems#Sam is the one who makes the deal with no nonsense attitude#Sam and Tucker are Danny's ride or die#YG. especially the Core 4 respect that#Tim respects the blackmail abilities tbh#Conner and Bart are always down to take out shady government goons#Cassie totally respects Sam's iron will#teens helping teens out#they have little to no respect to adults#theyve all been burned or ignored too much
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A Reason To Go On - Part 1
Stalker!Ghost x f!reader
TW: MDNI 18+, stalking & obsessive behaviour, dub/con, mental health issues
Authors note: this came about following a series of drabbles which I’ve put links to below which may be useful to read beforehand. Written in one sitting and not edited!
Drab 1 Drab 2 Drab 3 Drab 4 Drab 5
AO3 version where everything has been merged
Series Masterlist
Simon sat looking across the kitchen table at Price, both nursing barely touched glasses of bourbon. The surface was immaculately clean, having never been used since it was bought a few months ago. Like much of the items and furniture in the little flat he now called home. Price was looking at him, waiting for him to speak, and the silence was eating up the last of the air in the room.
“Is it really that bad, Simon?” Price prompted him, his tone serious and maddeningly sympathetic. He was always Simon now, Ghost was gone, dead and buried the way he should have stayed all those years ago. He hadn’t even touched a balaclava since he left, using a black medical mask instead when he felt the need.
“No, not really,” Simon shrugged, turning the glass on the table idly. He didn’t look up at his Captain, no that was wrong, his ex-Captain. “Been keeping myself busy reading, exercise, you know,” he finished dismissively.
“You’ve kept up with that therapist?” Price asked, knowing the answer was most likely going to be a negative.
“Sure,” Simon lied. He hadn’t been to any appointments with a therapist since his medical discharge, and he would rather… No, can’t finish that thought as that’s what got him into this mess in the first place. Chucked out on civvy street with a fat pension and nothing to do, no purpose to serve after all these years. At least Price had arranged the pension so he didn’t have to worry about his name getting into circulation, not with his past. The flat was rented under a pseudonym and paid for by some shady forces protection scheme. He didn’t need that catching up with him now.
“Look, I’m settled in and getting myself sorted. You don’t need to come all the way here and check on me,” Simon grumbled, not bothering to hide how much he resented Price these days. He hadn’t fought for him, hadn’t tried to keep him on the Taskforce when that shrink had stamped his file as unfit for duty. Anger issues, poor impulse control, danger to self and others. Price huffed and knocked back his drink. These visits always ended the same, full of regret and bitterness.
“Okay, son,” he said, getting up and looking around the barely furnished flat one last time. “I’ll let you be, but I’ll be back when I can. Why not think about what I said though, try and get a hobby, something to focus on.”
Price left soon after and Simon finished his glass before heading towards the spare bedroom, his office as he liked to think of it. He’d found his left a purpose, no thanks to Price. He had a reason to carry on now, and it meant everything to him. Flicking on the lightswitch the rows and rows of photographs on the wall were illuminated, all showing images of you at various times since he had first seen you.
With a smile he relaxed into the chair by the desk, looking up at the photos. You were his life now, he was dedicated to taking care of you. Since that first day he’d seen you he had dealt with your worthless ex-boyfriend, making sure the little shit stain never bothered you again, scared off several unworthy bastards in the pub you met your friends in, and put some small security cameras in the downstairs areas of you house so he could check on you from his laptop.
You were the focus of his every waking moment, and even when he slept now he pictured you in his dreams and woke hard and throbbing. At the start of this he had sworn to himself he would keep his distance, not let you know he existed so he didn’t burden you with his problems. But it was getting harder and harder not to sit and imagine what the touch of your hand would be like, you were a brave and kind soul, would you turn him away if he spoke to you?
That was why he had answered the note on your coffee table. The chance to make a connection to you was too great a temptation, and he let himself slip and grab the chance. This would be a slippery slope.
As midnight nears he makes his nightly pilgrimage to your house, his motorbike left at the end of your road before he walks closer, not wanting to disturb you with the noise. The footholds he made in your garden wall months ago allow him to quickly and quietly scale the wall, and he fishes out the key he copied for your back door, letting himself into your kitchen. He cocks his head and listens carefully making sure you aren’t moving around upstairs, and he hears nothing.
By now, he knows to look at the notepad on the table in the living room. There’s always a small note written there since he’d replied to the message you’d left all those weeks ago. Tonight, however, the pad is missing and he feels a pang in his heart. Why haven’t you left a note tonight? Has your tolerance for him dried up now? He feels a creeping fear, another loss looming in his future that he isn’t ready to cope with, not when he has already lost so much in the past.
He moves up the stairs, having memorised where to step and where to avoid so no creaks come from the wood. Your bedroom is at the top, and he has spent many hours sat in the hallway outside your bedroom door just to listen to the steady sound of your breathing. More than once you’ve gone to the bathroom and walked right past him, never bothering with putting on lights at night. He looks through the open doorway, a thin beam of light shining through the gap in the curtains and across your form under the bed covers.
Tonight though, your breathing sounds different, and he realises you aren’t asleep in the darkness. When you sit up, he freezes.
“You’re there, aren’t you?” you say to the darkened bedroom, absolutely certain you can hear soft breathing in the shadows by the door. You’re still not sure who or what you’re talking to, but you know that there is someone listening to you.
Simon remains calm. It's the first time you’ve spoken directly to him and he can’t quite process the fact that the object of his desires has come this close to actually perceiving him. Both the last thing in the world he wanted, and the one thing he has needed more than anything in his entire life. For several heartbeats he wrestles with himself deciding wether to answer you or not.
“Yeah, I’m here,” he finally answers, deep voice carrying around the room easily. He watches you carefully in the thin slither of light, sees your tiny flinch as you hear him and the involuntary swallow in your throat, but you don’t panic.
“Will you tell me why you’re here?” You ask, unable to hide the slight tremble in your voice. You’re so brave, his heart swells with pride at how you handle waking up to a strange man in your house, your very bedroom. You’d have made an amazing soldier.
“Just checkin’ you’re okay. I check on you a lot,” he admits.
“How long have you been doing this?” He can see a frown on your features, you’re trying to piece this all together now.
“Few months,” he answers with a shrug of his shoulders which draws your attention. You see the movement and realise just how large the shape in the shadows is, your eyes going wider in shock. His frame fills the doorway in width and height, and a tiny voice in your head tells you that you should be terrified, but you aren’t. If this man meant you harm you’d be dead already, months ago apparently. Instead he was getting into your house and doing the stuff that, and you feel your brain stutter at this thought, a boyfriend would do.
“Okay, and you’ve been doing more than that haven’t you? You’ve been following me around and helping me out haven’t you?”
“Yeah,” he replies.
“Why?”
“Wanna keep you safe, and happy,” he grunts with a frown, not wanting to dwell on that question.
“You could do that without breaking into my house, without hiding yourself from me.”
“I didn’t really want to bother you, I don’t need anyone to take care of me and it’s just easier this way,” he tells you, hearing how hollow his own words sound to his ears.
“Look, I really appreciate everything you’ve been doing, but this isn’t… normal,” you say, hugging your knees to your chest now as you settle into this off situation. Again, you tell yourself you should be screaming and calling the police but there is a sadness about this man that you can’t ignore. “Why don’t you come and sit with me and we can talk?”
“Wait,” comes his brusque reply, and your eyebrows raise. He steps back from the doorway and down the stairs, not nothing to mask his footsteps now, and returns with a scarf that was hanging at the bottom of the stairs in one hand. “Close your eyes,” he instructs, holding the scarf in one hand where you can see it.
“A blindfold. Why? Are you ugly?” you tease, the words hitting him like a bullet between the eyes and a smile forming across his face.
“Quite the opposite,” he replies, feeling warmth spread through his chest at such a poignant exchange of words. It's almost as though you knew…
You close your eyes. Listening carefully as you hear him moving closer, the faint rustling of fabric is just audible. A blindfold settles over your eyes, thick and heavy, blotting out anything you might have been able to see even in the darkness.
Then, and only then, do you feel the mattress dipping down a long way as he sits on the edge of the bed. Tentatively you lift one hand and blindly reach out to touch him, after a moment or two he takes your hand in his, warm fingers and a calloused palm encapsulating your own. On a whim, you pull, urging him to move closer to you. At first he resists, the bed shifts and for a moment you worry he is going to get up and leave, but you hold onto his hand and tug again. He relents and leans over towards you, and warm face rests against your shoulder, hair tickling your cheek, and you wrap your arms around huge shoulders.
It’s as though a dam breaks inside Simon, the moment you put your arms around him he melts against you, gently pushing you back against the mattress as he lies down beside you. One of his legs hooks over yours over the covers and his arm drapes over your stomach, pinning you into place as his face rests against the exposed skin at the crook of your neck.
You feel a hot rush of air leave his lungs, heating your neck, and a tiny groan tinged with such sadness escapes him. The sound plucks at your heart and you rub your cheek against his hair, encouraging him to nuzzle into you even further, as though we would climb into your chest if it were an option.
“What should I call you, now that we are finally talking? You already know my name,” you murmur.
“Ghost,” he replies, his lips tickling your skin as he speaks and a shiver runs down your spine.
“I thought you were a ghost to start with, so that’s appropriate,” you reply.
He grunts and touches his lips to your neck again, feeling you shudder again as he is draped over you. He tried a small kiss, his control evaporating by the second as you respond to him to readily, and when you sigh softly it vanishes. He kisses you desperately, moans accompanying every movement of his lips until his mouth is on yours, hot and needy. From the darkness of the blindfold you kiss him back, hands framing the face you cannot see and the weight of his body shifting until you are crushed into the mattress below you.
The bed covers are pulled away from you, cool air reaching through the thin fabric of the T-shirt you are wearing until his warmth settles against you, pushing your knees apart so his clothed erection presses against your crotch. He humps you through his clothes, a frantic and needy action as his kisses continue to burn your mouth with their ferocity.
Little moans and whines escape you as you let him drink his fill of you, the amount of passion he has for you like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. You hands trace over his shoulders, tracing firm muscle as he lifts your T-shirt and kisses down you body, stopping to grope roughly at your breasts before he kisses across your stomach to your underwear.
His mouth moves across the fabric, hot and hungry, pressing into your folds and causing arousal to flood through you. The wetness is unmissable as he grinds his face into you, fingers digging into your thighs. You hear a zip being undone.
“No, wait,” you try to slow him down by putting your hands on his chest but he is too far gone now, muttering praises and words of adoration like he is reciting a memorised prayer. Your underwear is pulled down roughly, stinging your legs as he drags it down carelessly and the tip of his erection is pressed against your dripping cunt before you have time to think again.
Simon presses into you, his head hanging from his shoulders loosely as he focuses on the sensation of your heat enveloping his cock. He shudders and pauses when he is halfway in, looking to your face and wishing he could see your eyes, but that would be too much for him and he knows it. Your mouth gapes open, back arched and you whimper when he slowly thrusts forward again.
“Fuck… your perfect,” he whispers, watching his length disappearing inside of you. “So perfect for me.” When he hilts himself in your cunt he leans down and kisses your neck again, hands gripping your shoulders so you are totally surrounded by his body, entirely surrounded and filled by him. Your arms are trapped between your chest and his, leaving you no way to move with his weight on top of you. He pulls his hips back, almost completely pulling out before slowly pushing back in, sparking intense pleasure as you feel his thickness stretching you open. Every vein and ridge of his cock can be felt, and when he bottoms out again he presses against your cervix and you whine at the sensation.
“Its okay,” he whispers, kissing your neck and nipping at your skin as he holds you tightly, not letting you move as you lay in total blindness while he slowly fucks you. “Everythings fine, this is so good, you feel so good.” His hips begin to snap against yours as he picks up the pace, the pleasure from each thrust bleeding into the next as he speeds up until you’re riding a never ending wave of electricity. The sounds of his skin on yours mix with his grunts and praises, creating a filthy symphony of sounds around you.
The pressure against your clit spurs your impending orgasm, and you rock your hips to chase the release, coaxing him to thrust harder into your aching hole.
“Gonna cum,” he starts to moan, “gonna cum in you.” He repeats it over and over, his voice cracking as he speaks, and the words push you over the edge. Your cunt grips and clenches onto his cock as you cum, crying out his name and with a harsh groan he pours himself into you.
His head falls into the crook of your neck as he catches his breath and after a while carefully pulls his softening cock out of you, making you wince.
“Shit, did I hurt you?” He asks, going still as he hovers over you.
“No it’s okay. You just have… large equipment,” you say weakly, and feel a kiss on your cheek.
“I’m sorry I didn’t, you know, ask about that first,” he says, frowning at himself as he lowers himself beside you on the bed. He’s meant to be protecting you not taking advantage of you, but it felt so good. He feels wetness on his cheeks and wipe his face with the back of his hand.
“It was intense,” you say, “but it’s fine, don’t worry.” You turn and press yourself into him, this large and solid man that you don’t know, but trust for no good reason. He stays a while longer until you fall asleep, but when you wake up with your morning alarm he is gone. The scarf is neatly folded up on the bedside table, a scrap of paper with a phone number written on it ontop with the words ‘if you need me’ written under them.
When you go downstairs he has even put out a mug and teabag by the kettle for you, locking the door as he had left.
Taglist @ghosts-cyphera @katamari-possum @kkaaaagt @n1ght4ngel
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Tulips or Roses?
John Price x reader
In which you find John's old diary detailing his love for you his teammate and you begin to question his love for you.
Word Count: 3.6k
Being a civilian to a soldier was hard enough.
And it was even harder when your husband was a commander for one of the most skillful task force. So it wasn't unusual for him to be gone for long periods of time.
So on a random Friday evening, anticipating his arrival in the coming week, vacuuming the floors, cleaning the windows, you found yourself at the door of John's study, with was decorated with a glass name plate, with the words 'Study' accompanied with a painted heart created from blue and pink fingerprints from you and your husband.
John was never the man to tell you off if you entered his study, instead he encouraged it. He's beckoned you to bring him his evening tea to him, to give him a massage, sometimes when you wanted him, he'd allow you to help him under the desk, if you get what I mean. (speaking from experience ;>)
As you stepped into his room, you noticed the ceilings adorned with sizable white cobwebs, cringing at the apparent neglect of his study. When was the last time someone had even been here?
Sweeping his desk, wiping away the dust, you find a box underneath beside his chair, which prompted you to lifting it up and placing on top of the desk. Man, you underestimated it's weight. You struggled to lift a small but heavy moving box, and it caused a few books and papers to fall out.
You cursed at your clumsiness, picking up the loose sheets, until you fingers caught the spine of a red vintage-like book, which had the word 'diary' written on the front. You didn't take too much notice, skimming through the pages until you caught your name being mentioned a phew times.
You giggle, it's a diary probably with John confessing his love to you numerous time! You know you probably shouldn't look through it, I mean privacy exists, but you just can't help it.
So you look through some of the infrequent entries, the oldest dating back to 10 years back, and the most recent one being nearly 4 years, when you and John had first met.
30th February 2010
Suffering in Afghanistan, the lads and I are stuck in the safe house for a week now. Rose is here too, I should ask her if she's okay.
Ahhh you remember this story. When the Task Force was stuck in the city of Kandahar, in the safe house. You also remember John's team, whom you are well-acquainted with, Soap, Ghost, Gaz, Roach, Rose?
You skip through the boring entries, most of which are just John documenting his work-out plan and the places him and his team had visited.
5th July 2016
Gaz's going on and on about his lass. Someone tell him to talk to her at least, he doesn't even know her name! I keep bringing it up but he keeps mentioning when I'll talk to Rose.
You chuckled, assuming the chick was Gaz's current wife. But the last part caught your attention, Rose again? You remember John telling you that she'd retired, went back north to settle with her family now, so you don't think much of it, I mean they are team mates.
19th June 2017
Saw a cute kid and her mama, wishing I had kids, without this lifestyle. Rose wants a son but I don't particularly mind. Soap overheard our conversation and spammed me lols on Whatsapp, but I thought lol meant little old lady? I am a man though.
You raise your eyebrow at another mention of Rose, why doesn't he care if Rose wanted a son? You didn't realise how close your husband was to her.
2nd December 2018
Christmas this month with my boys. Rose invited me over for a smoke. Ghost rolls his eyes when I mentioned it to him, says I need to man up and make a move.
You squinted your eyes, rereading the entry, and hesitantly skipping to the next one.
7th April 2019
Drinks with my men (and Rose haha, she doesn't like being part of the men). It's her birthday and she wants to tell us something. She's got her red lips again. I'm excited, Soap kept nudging me the entire ride, that cheeky bugger.
Then immediately below it, an update:
She's seeing someone.
You're slowly piecing the puzzle, though you don't want to assume anything.
21st August 2019
She came into my room crying, seems like it's not going well, good for me. I hope she's okay and she realises there's better fish in the sea. She hugged me, she smells like roses, I love floral scents. I tried leaning in, she says I'm like an older brother to her.
Your heart breaks a bit, sniffing at your freshly washed hair, which smelt like ... like roses.
You thought floral scents were YOUR thing.
You continued, to the next entry which was marked the date you remember meeting John for the first time at the pub. You force a smile, hoping the entry would lighten your mood.
30th November 2020
In the pub and bored. Rose brought her lad... they're back together. What does she see in him? Soap urges me to find someone else but my heart is set on someone, for a long time. Won't change. He keeps gesturing to a girl on the other end of the counter, she's pretty, but like a tulip. Not like a rose. Not like my Rose.
You grip at the notebook and you try your hardest not to rip the papers out of the book and set his entire study on fire.
You remember this day, when you were dragged to the pub by your friends after being dumped by your ex for another girl. You sat at one end of the counter, with tears in your eyes but one look at that buff Englishman on the other end and your mood flipped instantaneously, 180 degrees.
"Kelsey, look at that guy, Mr Army over there." You beckon towards John's direction, to your friend., slightly tipsy after a peg of beer.
Your friend looks at you with a raised eyebrow, then turns to the guy whose piqued your interest, "You should go for it." She encourages you.
So you get yourself 2 drinks and approach the guy, more confident that usual due to your alcoholic state. A beer would do.
"Hi, this seat empty?" You smile at him innocently.
All this time you had recalled a look of fondness towards you, when he'd first locked eyes with you. You remember bragging about how it had been love at first sight for the both of you, but thinking back, a feeling of doubt starts bubbling inside you.
"It's reserve- you know what. Take a seat."
You remember sitting next to him, passing him a drink, and telling him your name, "...and you are?" you question, although you see him wincing. At first you thought it was just an army thing, so guarded that even the slightest of movements would make him twitch.
But now you're questioning whether he really wanted to engage into a conversation with you.
The following hours, as you painfully recall, was filled with you talking about yourself and occasionally asking him after his life, though he gives you one word answers and frequent nods.
But that was just because he'd just come home from a mission right?
"...and he just broke up with me out of the blue! Like was my 12,000 followers on TikTok not good enough for you?" You chuckle, attempting to crack a joke. He smiles confused, and you note he's probably too old to understand what TikTok was.
"Sounds like an asshole, love." He replies.
"Hmm, he was...I- I just don't know what he'd leave me for her...like I gave you my everything, I was always with you through thick and thin and what, that wasn't enough for you?" You trail off, the effects of the 2nd beer hitting you.
"I understand dove, you just give 'em everything and they just find someone else. What does he have that I don't?" He spaces out, his eyes falling on his teammates sitting at a different table. You follow his gaze, smiling slightly when you lock eyes with one of his smirking subordinates, whom you know know as Soap.
"Those people, they're your team?" You question.
His eyes aren't on you though as he responds, "That mohawk, that's Soap, Ghost next to him, tough as steel but soft at heart, Gaz on the opposite, funny lad, Roach, good ol' Roach..."
You look at the woman to the right of 'Roach', taking in her beauty. Though she's sitting down, you can tell she's taller that you by least 4 inches, with a blonde pixie haircut and painted with a dark smokey eye. A deep smirk is plastered onto her plump ruby red lips as she looks at John Price finally talking to a woman that isn't her. She raises a hand, waving to the both of you, which is almost instantaneously reciprocated by John.
"And her?" You ask, head nudging towards the woman.
"Her...That's Rose. You should meet her, you would like her, but who doesn't..." His chuckle fades out and you at how his attention was fully directed to her. A sinking feeling told you that you should have backed off from the married man, but it disappeared when John pointed out her partner, with gritted teeth.
Your hands are gripping the pages at this point, as you recall memories from the diary from his point of view.
You turn the page to the next entry, dreading the words.
19th December 2020
Thought me and Rose would go back to the pub for another drink for the holidays, but she's going back to his place. Seems they're taking the next steps with meeting the families.
Soap's annoyed at how I'm 'ghosting' the girl I met at the pub, I'm once again unfamiliar with the lingo, I'm not Simon?? She's nice but, not sure I see anything further than a friendship. Gaz and him are picking out an outfit for me, she wants to meet up for bowling apparently. I just want to be with Rose...
Clenching your fist, you shut the diary and toss it aside, feeling all kinds of emotions. Upset that John had never truly looked at you the way you'd looked at him. The way he never wanted you, like you wanted him.
Every time you'd seen him online on Whatsapp, but still hadn't opened your messages, he was ghosting you? Sure after a while of being friends, his behaviour gradually changed, accompanied with rapid texts, but you felt like this relationship was built on lies.
Did he even want to go bowling with you that day? Did you win because he purposely let you, because he was bored and wanted to go home, be with Rose instead? When he asked you to be his girlfriend, did he ask you with Rose in mind?
The ding of the oven stopped your trail of thoughts, so many questions swirling around your head. You walk out of the study, slamming the door behind you, the combined mess of dust and cobwebs remaining untouched.
The glass name plate falls to the ground, the edge shattering, with shards of clear glass laying dangerously on the wooden floor.
A couple of hours go by and the doorknob rattles at 8:45 P.M. on the dot. John was never late when he had to come home to you.
He reaches base at 7:30, drives exacting an hour to your shared home, after making a quick pit stop at the florists within 10 minutes to give you a freshly scented bouquet of red roses.
Roses. So that's why he'd give them you every time...
He makes sure to leave him 5 minutes of spare time, which was designated to flipping open a small metal notebook you'd gifted him, and writing his thoughts down. And once those 5 minutes were up, he places the notepad back into his jacket pocket and practically runs towards the front door.
"Dove, I'm home!" He exclaimed, gently placing his belonging on the floor, before walking into the living floor, where you sat on the sofa with your legs and arms crossed. (MY BITCH POSE IS NASTY)
"Sweetheart, you didn't run up to me at the door, you alright love?" He sits next to you, his calloused and freshly bruised arms rubbing your knee.
The silence was deafening and you couldn't find it in yourself to look at him after all you've read.
He takes it as a cue to continue, "I got you some roses, baby. Your favourite-"
"When did I say they were my favourite?"
John blinks at the interruption, "I mean, you don't like them? It's tradition to bring the same red roses for you every time I'm back..."
"And when did I say I liked them? Are they my favourite? Or are they her favourite?" You shift towards him, anger evident in your voice.
"Her? Who? Sweetheart, what's going on?"
"I mean, come on man, you like floral shit that much that now you're making me wear it?"
"You...don't like floral scents? Did you want tulips instead, baby?"
Your eyebrows are furrowed in annoyance by his confusion.
"It doesn't matter if I wanted tulips, John, it's the fact that YOU like roses. In fact you've like Roses this entire time! Don't act like you like tulips 'cos you don't- to be honest I don't think you ever have!" You rant, handing running through your hair.
"I mean I like both honey, roses are just, um, prettier?" He sounds like he's asking you rather than telling you.
"Of course roses are prettier to you- that's all that you're fucking used to you. It's always roses, roses, roses. You're so obsessed with fucking roses, you never gave tulips a bloody chance!"
"Are we still talking about flowers-"
"And when you do give tulips a chance, you're still thinking about roses- how red they are, how pretty they are, how they need to be watered every 5 fucking minutes, even then there's already someone to water those damn. Red. Roses."
"I- I mean I like tulips too, baby-"
"No. You don't. No, you don't. Tulips are just the safest options for you, cos someone already plucked out those fucking roses. Cos roses don't want you."
You're standing up now, and John's attempts to speak are futile with every sentence you shout.
"No. In fact, roses has never wanted you, roses look better with someone else, and ol' poor John has no more roses, so he goes and waters some unwanted tulips instead!"
John stands up, towering over your shaking frame, his hands come up to stroke your biceps, but he's pushed away.
"I mean, did John ever even like tulips? Or was he faking it cos he never got roses? Was tulips just the safe option? Does John still want roses after all the years tulips have been there for him?"
You left out a pained cry, you didn't even notice the tears leaking out of your eyes.
"Does John even like tulips? Does John even love tulips?"
His hands wipe your tears away, and he brings you into his chest, and you don't attempt to push him away this time.
"Does you even love me, John?" You break down into his arms, letting him carrying you into the bedroom, where he places you gently on the bed, while you hiccup through your uneven sobs. He smells the stench of wine through your shaking breath, whilst stroking your hair, and you slowly fall into a deep slumber with your head pressed against his still uniform-clad chest.
The clock hits midnight and John gets up, trying not to wake you up, grabbing his sweats from the drawer and walking to the bathroom across the hall, in order to not wake you up, from what looked like a well-needed rest.
As he trudges out of the bedroom and through the corridor, the reflection of the broken glass catches his eyes and he squints in the darkness, squatting down to pick a small shard. As he lifts the remains of the nameplate, hooking it back to the door, he steps over the mess into the study to retrieve a dust pan and brush.
Flicking the lights on, he's met with what looks like a scene from the reality TV show - Hoarders. So starts cleaning quickly, picking up the duster and bunching up the paperwork from the floor, the pot of pens that had seemed to be knocked down, the diary he'd used to write in...hold on-
Picking up the diary, John flicks through the entries, the book naturally opening to the last open slide.
He begins reading the last entry.
19th December 2020
Thought me and Rose would go back to the pub for another drink for the holidays, but she's going back to his place. Seems they're taking the next steps with meeting the families.
Soap's annoyed at how I'm 'ghosting' the girl I met at the pub....
"Oh...my tulip, I've never loved roses as much as I loved you." He mumbles to himself, whilst simultaneously cringing at his previously written words, immediately throwing the book back on the floor.
It's past breakfast when you wake up, throat and eyes painfully dry from last night's crying session, forcing yourself to drag yourself to the bathroom. You've forgotten that John had come home last night, as your met with a familiar empty bed.
After brushing your teeth and washing your face, you walk downstairs, being face to face with the naked back of Captain John Price.
The smell of chocolate pancakes waft towards your nose, as you look around the kitchen, the room garnished with a variety of different flowered bouquets, with so many variations of plants.
Bundles of dahlias and lotuses, orchids and lilies, carnations and irises, roses and tulips.
John turns to your footsteps, smiling at his perfect woman.
"Baby, good mornin'" He greets you, placing a single rose into your hair, and pecking your forehead warmly.
"John, listen about last night-"
"It was the old diary, wasn't it?" he asks.
You nod, ashamed for your abrupt behaviour yesterday. John lifts your chin up, resting his forehead against yours.
"Rose never taught me how to love like you did."
"John, you don-" His pointer finger is pressed against your lips.
"Reading those words from the past, I can see how it may have painted a different picture of my feelings. But let me assure you, my love, that you are the one I adore with all my heart."
Your stroke his face, heart warming to his words.
"Every rose I brought home was a symbol of my love for you, not because it was her favorite, but because it reminded me of the beauty and grace that you bring into my life. And those tulips, they represent the new beginnings and the fresh start that we share together.
My love for you is unwavering and unconditional. You are my tulip, my true love, and I vow to cherish and adore you for all eternity. Please forgive me for any pain or doubt my past words may have caused."
"John..."
He hands you his notepad from from his back pocket, beckoning you to open it.
You look at the first entry.
19th February 2021
I mentioned how I journal sometimes to her, and she bought me a new notepad, it's cute how she calls it a diary. Things are looking good. Bowling's our thing, I let her win because seeing her smile means I've won too. I'm asking her out tonight, Soap cried real tears when I told him.
You turn the page.
20th July 2021
Our 6 month anniversary. Took her to a field of roses and tulips, though nothing compares to her beauty.
The next one.
17th September 2021
I seldom think of Rose, I have my tulip on my mind now. Rose retired, and the team celebrated last night. She hugged me and thanked me for being a good captain. She also acknowledged my previous feelings for her. Man that was uncomfortable, but I reassured her I'm with my tulip now. I love my tulip.
I've always preferred tulips anyway.
And the next.
5th July 2022
Our 500 day anniversary. I want to propose.
17th September 2022
She said yes!! She may be my fiance, but I've already started calling her my wife, not legally yet at least...illegally?
28rd December 2023
We married 30th November. The day we met. Xmas was amazing, I can't see myself with anyone but her. I'm getting deployed tomorrow though.
You look at the most recent entry, dated last night.
16th February 2024
Missed the valentines day with my missus. Hope these roses are enough, though I wanted to get something better. Tulips for my tulip. They ran out haha. Missed my girl, missed her like I've never missed someone before. Soap's right, deployment suck.
Tears welled up in your eyes, not from pain or doubt this time, but from overwhelming joy and love for the man standing before you.
"I'm sorry, John," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. "I didn't mean to doubt your love."
He smiled, a genuine and heartfelt smile that reached his eyes, pulling you into a warm embrace. "No need for apologies, my tulip. Thank you for teaching me how to love."
And in that moment, amidst the scent of chocolate pancakes and fresh flowers, it felt like you love story was just beginning, filled with trust, forgiveness, and a deep, unwavering love for each other.
That should not have taken me 2 days to complete what in the world. Also if i was tulip, that old diary is going straight into a fire! Barbecue anyone? <3
Quick Notes: I head-cannoned Rose to look like Sergeant Calhoun from Fix-it-Felix lolololol woman crush fr i get u john boy
I've decided to start a tag list! -> lemme know you're interested to be tagged in my future posts!
tags -> @lilliumrorum
#call of duty#cod#john price#john price x reader#captain john price#john price angst#john price fluff#task force 141#captain price
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Maple Syrup
Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader
Word Count: 2.2k
Summary: All you needed was to contain the aphrodisiac, make an antidote just in case, and go home. But working with the 141 was never that simple, and now you and Ghost would find out how it worked. Up close and personal.
Content Tags: Vague kidnapping near the beginning, Sex Pollen, Smut, PiV Sex, Fingering, Fuck or Die, Mild Dubious Consent (consent is gained after pollen gets inhaled), No use of Y/N, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alpha! Ghost
A/N: Honest to god, I've been trying to write a story based on this thought alone. I can't even get it started but maybe this will get me. There also needs to be more Omegaverse written for COD, there can be some interesting stuff from it. Lmk if you want more of this, i'm exhausted <3 (p.s. I've changed the summary like, 10 times and idk how to feel about it)
Next, Headcannons, Masterlist
"Gaz, are we clear to enter?" Ghost asked into the comms. Gaz had gone into the building first, alongside Soap, to clear out the path you and Ghost would take. It was almost a straight shot, it felt too easy to get to the weapon you were there for. Maple Syrup, they had called it, even though it was an airborne weapon. You could hear a few shouts of a language, it sounded Russian but you weren't entirely sure, but you didn't have long to dwell on it as they stopped with a few gunshots.
Another few grunts came through before Gaz finally responded. "We're all clear in here, we still need to sweep a few rooms closer to Docs target, but you should be good to enter," he answered. Ghost nodded at you and led the way in, gun resting on his shoulder as he looked every which way. You knew it was a safety precaution, but you trusted Gaz.
You always trusted easily, it was in your nature. You were an Omega, and having trust in the people meant to protect you felt natural. You trusted your pack, even if you hadn't been a part of it for too long.
Maybe you shouldn't trust as easily.
Ghost shoved you into the wall next to you and started firing, bullets whistling past your ears as you ducked low. It reeked of sex, of Alphas and Omegas in heat or rut. Even through the military grade suppressant you could smell it, and it hurt. Ghost ducked around the corner, more gunshots echoing before a grunt came from him, and you heard the sound of a body dropping.
You didn't think before rounding that corner, seeing Ghost on the ground unmoving shook you. You ran your hands over him to feel for blood, but you couldn't see or feel anything. By the time you got to his shoulders, you found a needle trapped between his vest and arm, right in the meaty part of his inner-most shoulder. You plucked it off of him without thinking, tossing it to the side before pressing to feel for anything left inside.
You hadn't noticed the people advancing behind you, had ignored the calling from the comms or footsteps coming from the same direction Gaz and Soap were supposed to be in, but you felt the prick of the needle on your back. With a shout, you fell forwards, catching yourself from falling face first into the ground. You attempted to crawl forwards, get away from the men approaching from the back, but the medication they pumped into you caught up quicker than you could move.
It was with a groan that you sat up, swallowing thickly at the sickly sweet taste in your mouth. You tried wiping your face, but your hands moved slower than they felt, missing twice before wiping the area around your mouth. Pulling your hand back, a thin, dark red coating came back on them. You blinked hard, trying to remember what you had come here for.
The Maple Syrup mist. You couldn't remember much else about it, your mind moving at about the same speed as the namesake for the pollen-like substance. It was airborne. You knew that. There was something especially dangerous about it that a lot of the countries who knew about it wanted it gone. You were hired to make sure that no matter what happened, there was an anti-dote for it.
Something like that.
You blinked back into it when the door to wherever you were creaked open. You glanced up slowly, blinking at the men who entered and grabbed you, speaking loudly at you. What were they talking about? It wasn't Russian, you hadn't been in Russia or near any of their allies when you'd been grabbed.
You wouldn't understand it, your mind was moving at half the speed they were dragging you at. A few twists and turns, some scattered conversation floating around, and being dropped twice was what it took for you to be tossed into a similar room as your first. You laid face first on the ground, the cold helping to clear your head slightly.
Small cramps started in your back, twinging you every few seconds. A voice came over a loudspeaker, whatever they were saying it was something they were very pleased with. You turned, slowly, onto your back before crawling backwards to lean onto the wall behind you.
Maple Syrup. What the hell about it was so important they sent the 141 after it? Something something, military grade suppressants. The suppressants. Maple Syrup could break through military grade suppressants. You groaned, the cramps moving through your back and into your stomach. You could feel the heat, all-encompassing, starting to wash over you.
A loud, long creak echoed from the area to your left, and your head dropped to your shoulder as you turned it to look at the wall. A scent came wafting from the slowly opening crack in the wall, growing headier as the walls fully opened up. It was musky, with leather and tobacco, hints of the gunpowder you often smelled back on base. It made your mouth water.
The groan from the corner directly next to you startled you back into the present. As your eyes adjusted to the new lighting between the two rooms, a dark shape became clearer in the corner. A skull mask was lying tossed a few meters from it, and as your vision cleared up more, you could tell it was Ghost.
His head hardly moved as his eyes found yours, staring through you from beneath the balaclava.
"What's the verdict, Doc?" He grumbled, deep in his throat.
"Dosed with Maple Syrup," you whispered back, and his head fell back down between his legs.
A short, harsh sound came from him, it had to be a laugh, "then what's gonna happen to us?"
"When was your last natural rut?" You looked at him, licking your dried lips. You could see his head move sharply from your peripheral, his eyes flittering up and down. He shook his head, another dry laugh coming from him.
"It's that bad?" You nodded. "Probably since I took my last, longer leave. I think it was four or five years ago, but I don't remember," you blinked slowly. The levels of androstenone in him would be high, especially without a rut to keep him leveled, and the Maple Syrup would only force him to produce more. Too much, and he'd die of something. Whether it would be heat stroke, or dehydration you had no idea.
"If you don't pop a knot or two, you'll die. Heat stroke, maybe dehydration, but you'll die. I don't know the exact amount of androstenone inside of you, but if it gets too high you could be forced into a feral rut," you glanced over at him, his eyes scrunched shut, a low groan coming from his throat. He glanced back up to you, his eyes softened and fear started to lace his scent.
Ghost shook his head. "If I go feral, I'll kill you. I can't, Doc, I don't wanna kill you," his voice grew more strained as his sentence wore on.
"I'll be fine," you gave him a soft smile. "I'm going to go into heat, and if I don't get a knot, I'll die. I don't know if the weapon shit is able to counteract the birth control part of the suppressants, but I don't feel good. I need you to fuck me, Ghost," you whispered the last part. He shook his head. "You have my permission, so it's up to you to act," you swallowed again, eyes shutting as sweat beaded down your neck.
It was getting hot. Too hot, and you could feel your slick pooling and soaking through your pants. You could smell it, and you knew he could smell it. You could hear the panting breaths he took, the grunts he let out. A long, low growl came from him and his heavy steps inched closer to you.
Ghost grabbed you by the back of your neck, shoving you forward into the ground and scenting your throat deeply. He tore at the neck of your shirt, ripping it to let him get more of your scent. He licked a long line, sucking into the base of your neck softly as his teeth grazed along it.
He stuffed his fingers under your pants and panties, leaving you whining as two of his fingers brushed past your clit and buried into you. Even feral, the Alpha was trying to take care of you. They curled and pressed against you, leaving you writhing under him as you whined for more.
Pleasure blossomed in your abdomen, the heel of his hand grazing against your clit with each pump his fingers made, leaving you throbbing around his fingers. Ghost was able to get one more finger in you, nosing up your neck before sucking a dark hickey into your neck, teeth grazing along your neck and nipping you here and there, soothing it with a lick.
He tugged his fingers out of you, dragging your pants and panties down before shoving his down as well. He rutted his cock against your folds, soaking himself in your slick before sliding inside of you. A long, loud moan tore out of your throat as he kept sliding further and further into you, bottoming out with a growl from him.
Writhing against him with your mouth hanging open, he dragged himself out of you before rutting back in. Your nails scratched against the floor beneath you, you could feel your heartbeat in your clit and Ghost against your back.
Licking and sucking at your scent gland, Ghost dragged his face against it and growling. You could feel him throb inside of you, heat flooding you with his cum. A long whine came from your throat, hips pushing back and out against him as his fingers found your clit, rubbing in soft but quick strokes. Heat shredded through your abdomen, sliding through the rest of your body as your orgasm tore through your body.
You could feel your clit pulse with each heartbeat, his fingers not waning from stroking it, shocks flowing through you with each stroke. You thought you could feel tears pouring down your face, mouth wide open as you groaned. Ghost pulled out, letting you drop to the ground on your stomach before he flipped you over, pulling your legs to his shoulders and rocking his cock back inside of you.
Dropping your head back, your mouth still gaped open as he filled you once more. You could feel his knot catching onto you each time he thrust, leaving you whining. Ghost dropped back down, mouthing at your scent gland once more, leaving his open for your own mouth.
Pushing his balaclava away from his gland, you took licks of his for yourself. He tasted good, so good, his scent flooding into your mouth, you had to pull back just enough so that you could breathe. He grunted with each thrust, his abdomen brushing against your clit with every other thrust, your legs pushed into your chest.
Each thrust left you whining for more, faster, harder even if he couldn't hear or understand you through the feral rut. You felt tears pooling in your eyes again, dripping down your face as you gasped with each thrust, cunt throbbing around him as his knot caught more and more with every thrust until he couldn't pull out anymore. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you felt a sharp, stinging pain radiate from your neck before it heated into what almost felt like agonizing pleasure.
It burned white hot and you clawed at his arms, hips bucking against his, which were just barely thrusting against you, trying to pump you full and pump deep.
When he finally released your neck, he let out a long groan as his own orgasm seemed to finally wash over him. Ghost let his head drop to your shoulder, his hips trying to thrust harder and you couldn't stop yourself from biting down on his own gland in turn.
It was hard to see the way his mouth dropped open under the balaclava and his eyes roll back, but from what you could see it left you moaning against his neck.
It took you a few minutes to come back to when you released his neck. All you could taste those few minutes was Ghost, nothing more. You had to gasp for actual oxygen as his taste nearly embedded itself in your mouth.
From the moment you released his neck, to the moment you became more aware of what was happening, he had adjusted you to sitting in his lap with his back against the wall. You could hear him talking, but your mind was gone. There wasn't pain, but you weren't entirely comfortable. Your neck was sore, and your cunt was still throbbing around him.
He nuzzled your neck, lapping at your now marked gland.
Ghost wasn't entirely sure what would happen, neither of you would be able to hide the marks and even so, he would have to report this. He figured it wouldn't matter, for now, he could wait to figure everything out until you got medevacked and taken care of. Price would know what to do, he always did.
Next
#smut#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#ghost x reader smut#simon riley x you#ghost smut#simon riley#cod mw2#call of duty#ghost mw2#sex pollen#fuck or die#no use of y/n#aphrodisiacs#dubious consent#task force 141#simon ghost riley x reader smut#call of duty x reader#call of duty mw2#modern warfare ii#reader insert#Kidnapping ngl#alpha/beta/omega dynamics#i literally watched 6 episodes of Batman while writing this#I think its been two and a half hours#I don't know what's happening anymore#Mentions of Gaz#Mentions of Soap#Mentions of Price#Maple Syrup
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So you like imaginary fandoms...
With the recent success of Goncharov, I thought I'd make a post to mention some of the previous times this has happened in fandom, and a brief explanation and some links on how you can find works for them. I don't claim that this is a comprehensive list, it's just ones that came to me off the top of my head based on several decades of fandom involvement.
Ghost Soup Infidel Blue. Originates from the annual Yuletide exchange, specifically a post by liviapenn in 2007 that used it as a default fandom to help explain how to write 'dear author' letters. The relevant quote (meant to illustrate the kind of letter that would be too specific) was "'Bad: "I would like a Ghost Soup story where Luke makes out with Angela's clone and Angela gets mad and seduces Moira just to make Luke mad, and then Ryan and Luke duel to the death with their lightsabers and it ends up in an Angela/Angela's clone/Moira threesome. And Ryan feels really bad and flies off to Mars forever."" Consensus is that it is a sprawling space opera anime series, something like Gundam or Macross, with many sub-parts and spin-offs. Part of the dynamic of Ghost Soup 'fandom' is people arguing in the notes and comments about the continuity or quality of these various spinoffs (e.g. Purple is reputed to be bad, but some people will staunchly defend it just to be contrary.) Deliberate wank and badfic is part of the humour. You can read the Fanlore post about Ghost Soup here and find works for it and its related fandoms here
Winterblumensaat. Again, this comes out of Yuletide, specifically a nomination in 2021 for what was strongly suspected to be a nonexistent German book. The nominator's sister found it in a flea market! It very definitely was real! They couldn't provide any evidence or a photo of the book, but they promise it was definitely a real book! Despite being rejected from Yuletide nominations as not having any basis in reality, it has nevertheless had some fics written for it. The AO3 tag is merged into Original Work, so you can find them by searching in Original Work for Winterblumensaat (results here). It seems to be a moody, dark mid-century European novel, with characters named Florientina, Mailia, Schnail, and Markus. A related non-existent fandom with the same origin story is Nur die Sonne - Maria Moßer, but this has only attracted one work so far (a crossover with Winterblumensaat).
Cordelia (Movie Poster). In 2020 a movie poster for the movie Cordelia came out that inspired fandom in ways probably not intended by the movie's creators. While the actual movie Cordelia is a contemporary horror/thriller, the poster gave people the impression that it might be about Victorian femdom with pegging. Needless to say, they were disappointed by whatever was in the actual film, and made up fic based on what they thought the poster was about instead. Currently ALL works in the Cordelia (2020) tag on AO3 are actually about the poster and not the movie.
Invisible Ficathon. In 2014 an exchange called Invisible Ficathon ran, which was based around "stories that never were". Nominated "canons" had to be nonexistent fictional works referenced in another work. Examples given included "The Casebook of Sherlock Holmes - Joan Watson" (from Elementary), "The Itchy and Scratchy Show" (from The Simpsons), the books in Lucien's library in The Sandman that only exist in dreams, and so on. The collections on AO3 contain 71 works for nonexistent fandoms. Alas that this exchange only ran once, because it was a fun concept. I think with the renewed interest in Goncharov, it would be ripe for revival.
#goncharov#fictional fandoms#ghost soup infidel blue#winterblumensaat#cordelia movie poster#invisible ficathon
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Bunny Hop ! [rough ver.]
uh oh… Leon seems stressed. its a good thing he has a bunny to take it out on!
pairing: fem!reader x Leon Kennedy
tags: bunny hybrid, owner, biting/hickeys, knife, tactical gloves stay on, clit spanking, mean Leon, tail grabbing, p in v, mentions of breeding, reader is a bunny hybrid but gets put in doggy?! sweetness at the end 🫶🏻
note: my writing is a bit rusty so if you see a mistake, no you don’t 😭 also rough is kinda subjective but this is def rougher compared to the soft ver!
soft ver here!
masterlist
It was late, very late, and Leon still wasn’t home. The sun had gone down and the orange hues of the sunset went away and out came the moon and stars. It was way pass dinner too.
He messaged you briefly on the phone he got you once he took you in from the center, the purpose of it to remain in contact even when he was away for work, like today. Something about being held up and to be ready for him when he came home. Whatever that meant…
Leon’s messages were always short and simple over the phone, so you didn’t think much of it and just did as he said.
Laying there prettily on the couch watching some random movie on the TV in one of Leon’s shirts. It smelt like him and it just made you miss your owner even more. With his musk and cologne right on your nose because the article of clothing, it was hard not to let your fingers trail downwards to satiate yourself till he came home. But you were a good bunny and knew he would find out, leading to hours of denial instead. You shake the thoughts away and try to focus on the movie instead to forget that ache between your thighs.
Eventually, the door slammed roughly behind Leon when he finally arrived home, hinges squeaking from the abrupt strain. The sound causes you to jump from where you laid on the couch. He hasn’t said anything yet, and so with a twitch of your cotton tail and a cautious approach, you reach for his warm hand.
“O-Owner? Is everything okay?” You question softly, brows knitted as you look up at him.
Pure aggravation radiated off of him, his cock straining against his cargos. It was written all over his face that work was terrible today. Sure, his job wasn’t necessarily fun but it seemed like today was just a really, really bad day.
He releases an agitated sigh, free hand cupping your face and his lips press against yours hard. It’s steamy. Like you’re the ice to cool his heated emotions. He lets his actions speak for him.
You respond back to the kiss immediately, soft lips plush against his as your eyes flutter shut. Every question swirling in your mind about what has him so uptight flying out from Leon’s abrupt kiss.
Leon breathes out, his features tense. "I thought I said to be ready for your owner?”
His pretty blue eyes are dark when he looks into yours and it makes you feel that familiar feeling ignite in your core. Leon's calloused thumb rubs against your cheek gently before his hand teasingly trails down to your throat, his fingers ghosting around it possessively before moving away.
“Y-Yeah… I am.” You nod in a daze from the kiss. The affection making your heart thump from finally seeing the man you missed the most. Even if he was only gone for a few hours that day.
Your owner is the big bad wolf when he looks at you so angrily, so hungry. Strong arms and shoulders tense with frustration and aggression from a shitty day at work.
You know what he needs to make it all melt away. And so you let Leon snatch you up with his bruising hold, like you’re the prey and he’s the predator.
There’s no luxury of the soft blankets and pillows of Leon’s bed. He needed you now, and god, it was so primal how he pressed you against the couch beneath him in the living room. Hands finding purchase on his biceps when he cages you in and pressed harsh kisses and bites to your neck.
Tutting in disapproval, his hands push your thighs against your chest. Eyes widening and cheeks blushing at the stretch you feel in your legs. The gusset of your panties ruined with arousal, Leon lets out a deep groan at the sight.
“Next time,” Leon begins, his hands unsheathing his knife on his tactical belt, the sharp blade glinting in the light of the lamp. With care, he guides the sharpened edge to cut the cute panties off of you, his shirt you wore being cut shortly after as well, which left you bare underneath him.
“I mean that these better not be on you.” He murmurs, the knife sliding back into the sheathe.
You should be frightened by the way he used his blade to cut your clothes off impatiently but all it did was make you thankful he got them off so quickly.
It clicks in your head what his text meant now, but unfortunately, Leon is not in a forgiving mood. His calloused fingertips spank your clit and it’s like electricity sparking through your nerves. You jolt beneath him with a whimper and widened eyes.
“Owner, I didn’t know!” You try to protest.
Leon tuts once more, eye glimmering amused, “Is my poor bunny just as stupid as those rookies? It’s okay baby, I just gotta teach you for next time.”
More lashes of his fingers against your swollen clit follow, back arching with each spank. Your pretty little pussy quivering every time you feel the occasional leather texture of his tactical gloves.
“Good bunny, that’s it.” He praises, letting his digits slide over your wet folds as a reward.
He teases you, spitting right onto your cunny and smearing it all over, making you even more of a mess. His thick fingers spoiling you with such heated touches to your sweet spots.
A needy breathless whimper escapes, “T-Thank you, owner.”
The air is warm, heavy with intensity and you swear it’s almost like you’re in heat. Head gone in the clouds with an affectionate lust filled gaze. Leon always thought you looked so pretty like this. You were always pretty to him. But there was just something how you melted into a puddle of primal desires beneath him.
Slowly, he unbuckles his belt, slipping the long piece of leather out from each belt loop on his pants. He tosses it to the floor by the side of the couch, his own eyes trained on you.
Leon pushed you over onto your tummy and unzipped his trousers before freeing his aching length.
“You can thank your owner a different way.” He huffs, wanting nothing more than burying his pent up cock inside of you.
Your face burns at the position he has you in, features hidden against the cushions of the couch but your body on complete display. Hips raising from instinct, goosebumps form all over your heated skin when you feel one hand caressing your hip, knowing his other hand was occupied with smearing his precum all over his cock.
Leon groans deeply, lining the flushed tip of his cock with your needy entrance. His chest rising and falling with heavier breathes now. Leon’s gloved hand moves from your hip and up to the round stubby cotton tail above your plush rear.
A stuttered moan slipping when he grabs it but it’s quickly transformed into a lewd squeal when he uses it as leverage to yank you back and onto his cock.
No matter how many times your owner breeds and fucks you, there’s always a pleasurable stretch that makes your toes curl and your breath run away from your lungs.
Your sloppy little bunny pussy was molded and trained by him, there was no doubt about it. It causes his teeth to gnash together as a long guttural moan draws from his lips. His abdomen tensing at the relief of being inside his precious little breeding bunny after such a long day.
You whimper out sweetly, “Owner, please. I’ve missed you so much. Please move…”
Even if Leon wanted to instantly start pumping his leaking cock into your tight warm entrance, he knew he needed a moment. He always did. Each and every time he slid inside, it never failed to make him do a double take and cause him to almost shoot his load right away. He thought he was surely more experienced by now but you did always manage to make him feel younger.
“Mm, fuck.” He grits out. His fingers still curled around that cute cotton tail of yours and he uses it to make you fuck you back onto his fat cock.
The pace is slow and sensual but his grip on your tail is amplifying each drag of his cock against your inner walls, feeling every pulsing vein. It feels good and the only sounds you’re making is helpless whiny moans of pleasure. It’s good, really good, but you need more.
“Owner, c-come on. S’not enough, I need more of you owner.” A pathetic cry for your owner escapes.
He huffs audibly in frustration, “Greedy little bunny.” He places his other hand on your hip for support and snaps his hips harshly into you. “Shut up and fucking take it then.”
Loud slaps of sweaty skin colliding echo throughout the apartment, accompanied by erotic moans and whimpers and husky groans. Shutting up wasn’t an option for you with how his thick cock was filling you up and kissing at your cervix with each precise thrust.
Toes curling in delightful pleasure when he begins to fuck you how you pleaded for him to do. Soft bunny ears flopping around as your generous owner grunts from behind you.
Your jaw falls slack, erotic moans spill and overflow from your lips. “Owner, mm! I-I love it.”
A breathless chuckle escapes him at your messy slurred speech, completely dumb on his cock. You were being so loud though and you knew better. The apartment walls were paper thin with absolutely no sound proofing.
Strong hands reach for your trembling form, one arm around your waist, while he clamped his free hand around your mouth. Your sweaty nude body pressed back against his clothed chest, you try to whine when you realize he’s still in his work attire but it gets lost against his palm.
“I said shut up and take it didn’t I?” Leon breathes heavily in your ear, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine and your pussy quivering around him. “I don’t need to deal with a noise complaint on top of everything.”
With your torsos upright and pressed against one another, Leon lets his hips buck wildly. His gloved hand concealing your lewd noises. He loved the sound of them, you were like the sweetest songbird to him but now wasn’t the time.
That coil of undeniable release tightens in your core, tears forming in your eyes helplessly. The soft fluff of your bunny tail tickles against his clothed abdomen from the closeness of this position Leon has you in and you’re so close to heaven.
He feels that delicious clench and flutter of your greedy wet cunt around him, he’s right along with you. Heavy sensual breaths fall from your owner, he begins to whimper here and there.
“Fuck, that’s it.” His arm tightens around you.
All of the passion and frustration, the longing and affection comes to a boil, pussy gushing and strangling his cock as you orgasm. Leon keeps rocking his hips, guiding you through your messy release. After only a few more strokes his hold becomes bruising, shooting his warm seed inside and breeding you like a good owner should.
He presses his face into your neck, whining quietly. Fuck, it was always like this. Always milking him with that perfect pussy of yours. Neither of you would ever be satisfied with a partner that isn’t each other.
“Need it again, cum on my cock again.” He groans out.
Leon lets his fingers slip into your mouth and his other arm relax so he could reach down and rub messy circles on your sensitive clit, making you squeal. He wanted to go again but between the shit day at work and then coming straight home to breed the stress away. He would need some time, definitely wanting to fuck you to sleep later but he also wasn’t gonna stop till he felt you squirm and clamp down on his dick again.
Your head falls back as your cry out in pleasure, thighs twitching and trembling. Swollen clit so sensitive after just finishing but it made it feel so good at the same time. Leon rubs and caresses the most delicious circles with the perfect amount of pressure, the callouses on his hardworking hands causing that coil to form rapidly again.
“Owner, owner, oh my god!” You whimper incoherently, spit coating his fingers as Leon continues to silence your moans.
He pinches at your clit and everything falls apart once more. Leon gets what he wanted, relishing in the way he feels your sloppy spent cunt make a mess all over him and squeeze down.
Your hips jerk, helplessly squirming in pleasure while your second orgasm washes over and causes all your nerves to be sent into overdrive. Leon held you up with care, making sure your shaking form is supported.
“Good baby, so good for me.” Leon cooed, breathing still a bit labored.
When the quivering that accompanied your afterglows calms, he finally helps you to lay down and relax on the couch. Soft gentle kisses are pressed to your cheeks, contrasting to his previous behavior now that he was not as stressed anymore.
You smile sleepily at him, brain still mushy but your senses are coming back slowly but surely. Cheeks and body still warm from the intense passion but your breathing was returning to normalcy.
Leon soothes you, “You did so good for me. Such a sweetheart.”
Caressing your soft long bunny ears and murmuring sweet words to you after the deed. To him, it was one of the most important things to do, to make sure despite his words and actions, he loves you. It’s just the heat of the moment. And well, he knows you like it anyways.
#leon kennedy smut#leon kennedy x fem reader#leon kennedy x fem!reader#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy#leon kennedy x reader smut#leon kennedy x fem!reader smut#hybrid!au#bunny!reader
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Nice
Yandere childe x reader
1.7k
Synopsis: He'll buy you absolutely anything your heart desires, but he longs for you to describe things as more than just "nice"
TW: Yandere, abusive themes, bribery, NSFW themes, toxic relationship, Dub-Con
AN: I haven't written in FOREVER so forgive me if it's not awesome or if it feels incomplete. My last account got shadow banned :(, doesn't help that I was already pretty depressed before that. No time for sob stories here, it's been two years since I've written anything and I miss writing, thanks for joining me!
Gems that dazzled and gleamed stars in the night sky, silver that was carved painstakingly from the mines in Liyue, an appearance that was beautiful, but still kept up with the most current fashion trends. He had truly outdone himself with this one, this has to be the one that would take your breath away. The one that would make you leap into his arms and pepper his face with kisses from your sweet lips that he rarely got the chance to taste.
When it came to gifts for you, there was no price tag. Childe would spend every mora he had if it meant he could even get a smile out of you and spend he often did. Money meant nothing to him, being a Fatui harbinger, his paychecks were larger than he knew what to do with. After sending money back home to his family, he still had so much left and nothing that he longed for other than your affection. So, why not spend it on something else he cared about?
Your eyes ghosted over the ring he was showing you, encased in a black velvet box with red satin holding it up. It wasn’t an engagement ring, he’d assured you of that multiple times after you were taken aback by him holding it up to you. He knew you weren’t ready for that just yet, and he was willing to respect your wishes, but he still wanted to give you something to wear on that pretty little finger to show that you were his while you waited for the real deal. Your engagement ring would be much, much larger than the one he was gifting you now and it would incorporate details from both of your home countries.
The expression on your face was unreadable. It wasn’t quite a grimace, but it wasn’t a smile either. It was the usual face you made when you were given something. An equal mixture of discomfort and unease. “It’s…nice.” you mumbled quietly as he slipped the ring onto your finger.
There was that word again. Nice. It made him sick to his stomach every time he heard it fall from your pretty lips. But that was always what you said about his gifts, as if you couldn’t think of another word to describe how you felt about them. Rare spices imported from Sumeru? Nice. A custom hanfu made from only the finest silk to wear to the lantern rite? Nice. Wine aged for almost a decade and shipped straight from Mondstadt? Very nice.
You spoke that one word, but even then it felt like you were straining yourself to say that much. On multiple occasions, your displeasure with receiving such expressive gifts was expressed, but he told you that that didn’t matter. Mora was just an object to him, something that held no value, and yet you still held each gift as if they would collapse under your touch.
“You can tell me if you don’t like it,”
“No!” you quickly retorted back, holding your hand up to examine the ring once more, “Its…” you purse your lips to stop yourself from saying the word, knowing that he would only be upset with your lack of what he considered to be a proper answer, “I like it.”
With a sigh and a dramatic slump of his shoulders, he reached up and cupped your face. His hand felt like solid ice against your cheek. Childe often claimed that that was another thing he loved about you so much. How warm your body was in comparison to himself. He told you that when he someday took you to Snezhnaya to meet his family, you would be his personal heater, that he wouldn’t let you go for even a second during the duration of your stay there.
“You don’t even wear the earrings I got you anymore,” Childe’s long fingers traced from your cheek to the lobe of your ear, grazing the empty hole where jewelry would go.
“You know I can’t wear those at work,”
“Then quit your job,” He spoke those words so quickly, with no hesitation, a part of you was convinced you imagined it. But you working was a constant conflict of interest between the two of you, something you’d even argued about before.
The situation grew heated that day. Both of you, yelling back and forth about what you thought was right. You remembered seeing his eyes glow at the same time as his vision that rested on his hip, making your stomach drop. Childe would never hurt you, would he? But even you didn’t know the answer to that, you could never be too sure about what was going on in the mind of a harbinger. So you backed down slightly, telling him that it was something you would consider, and that answer sufficed with him for the time being.
“Childe-”
“Ajax,” he cut you off. He hated when you used his codename, claiming that as his future wife, you alone should be allowed to call him by his given name.
“Ajax," you exhaled harshly after speaking his name, "I really would like to work and be independent,”
For just the briefest of moments, his eyes went dull, his smile fell, his facade faltered and he was his true self. It only lasted for less than a second, the average person might not have even seen it, but you’d spent so much time with him. You knew his tells. You knew that even though he was smiling again, it was completely fake. He was angry, even if the gleam in his eyes didn't show it.
A cold kiss was pressed against your cheek, just a peck to get his point across. When he pulled away, still making eye contact, he was still so close that you could feel his shallow breath on your skin. He squatted down slightly to meet your eyes and whispered against your lips, “I don’t plan to let my wife work. Why don’t you quit now, have a little practice before we’re wed?”
He said that as a suggestion, but you knew it wasn’t one. With Childe there were only orders and threats, nothing in between. You had no choice on whether or not you’d get to work, on whether or not you got to live alone, on whether or not you married him. In his eyes, you were already his, and there was absolutely nothing you could do about it.
A lump was caught in your throat as you tried to figure out what to say. Could you even tell him that the prospect of marrying him was something that seldom crossed your mind? Something that even when you did think about, it brought a twinge of fear into your heart. That on multiple occasions, you considered leaving him, but your unease around him was what was making your stay.
“I…” you finally met his gaze as you tried to force words out of your tense body. His eyes felt so cold and the hand that he had managed to snake its way down onto your shoulder was gripping your flesh tightly. It was a warning that what you said next would matter, “I should just-”
“You should quit,” he spoke the last part of the sentence for you, not caring about what you truly wanted to say.
Eyes turned downcast, you gave a slow nod. There wasn’t much of a choice with him anymore, he was hellbent on that being your answer. He had given you an order, if you didn’t react the way he wanted you to, you would regret it.
The grip that was on your shoulder loosened, exhibiting that you had pleased him and another kiss was placed on your cheek as a reward. This time his lips touched just below your eyes, where tears were threatening to fall, “That’s my girl,” another peck right against your lips, “How about I buy you something special, huh? For being so good.”
You swallow slowly, trying to keep yourself from falling apart in front of him, clenching and unclenching your fist as a way to self soothe. Your voice was shaky as you delivered your stiff answer, “Sure. That sounds lovely.”
“How about a new pair of earrings,” he followed this up by lightly biting the side of your ear, “or maybe a new necklace,” you felt his warm tongue slide down from your ear to your collarbone, making all the hairs on your body stand up, “Or maybe even a new dress,” he spoke into your neck, his hand reaching down and trying to slide the dress you were wearing up your thigh, exposing your your bare skin to the air.
You jolted your body backwards, your hands placed against his chest in an attempt to keep the distance between the two of you. He was moving so fast. Too fast. Even though it had been a while since you and him had last been intimate, for him to try it again so suddenly was worrisome.
You didn’t dare look at his face. There was no doubt about it that he was upset at your response to his touch, he never liked when you rejected him. The hand that was placed against him, was taken into his. The way he held you was gentle, but you could still feel force behind his movement. The thumb of his hand traced the back of your palm as he held you, before lifting it up and placing a kiss against it. Right on your finger, right on the very expensive ring he’d just bought you, almost as a way to draw your attention to it once more.
“What’s gotten into you? Hm?” he had an eyebrow cocked and a grin on his face, “Pushing me away like that after I got you something so precious? You’re going to hurt my feelings.”
“I just don’t think I’m in the mood for this right now,” you mumbled, switching between looking at your dress you were fiddling with and his borderline unblinking eyes.
Silence fell over the two of you, to the point where you could hear your own heart beat, the sound of blood pumping in your ears, the sound of his breaths that were slightly heavier than normal. Childe was rarely quiet. It was hard to get him to keep his mouth shut. In a way his anger was scaled based on how loud he was, the quieter, the worse.
His large hand came into your sight again, making you flinch about what was coming ahead, but rather than being struck, he used his thumb to trace your lips, “Figure something out.”
#yandere genshin#genshin#genshin x reader#yandere genshin impact#childe#yandere childe#yandere childe x reader#mdni
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DPXDC Prompt#148 Part 2
Danny feels himself grow bright red and the two stare into each other's eyes for what felt like an eternity.
“I- Uh… I’m Danny” He finally managed to mutter.
“Damian Wayne, its a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Danny's blush grew even brighter as the next moment Damian kissed his hand, Danny couldn’t help but feel flustered.
After a moment Danny rubbed the back of his neck with his hand and stuttered out, “It’s nice, to meet you too” He could tell how happy Damian was to meet him and he felt a little bad for feeling nervous in the first place. Danny thought Damian was cute and he decided then that he wouldn’t mind getting to know him a little better. First they had to get through the rest of the gala, and soon as he thought about the gala something clicked.
He realized Damian was the son of Bruce Wayne who at the moment was talking to his own parents. He couldn’t help but stare as he let the information sink in.
“Ah yes it looks like Father is talking to some of the scientists that were invited.” Ancients, Danny knew his parents couldn’t help being themselves and unfortunately that meant things like accidentally spilling fudge right onto Mr. Wayne's suite. They watched as Mr. Wayne told his parents it wasn’t a problem and then walked out of the room.
Danny couldn’t help but sigh, “Sorry about them, my parents are a little eccentric. Don’t even get me started on their obsession with ghosts, my dad will not shut up sometimes.” Danny rubbed the back of his neck nervously again as he realized he was rambling a little bit.
“Don’t worry it looks like Father handled the situation well, although I am curious what kind of inventions two scientists obsessed with ghosts create. That’s what this gala is about, we want to support scientists in untapped fields of study.” Danny listened as his soulmate explained things to him.
Danny looked over to see Vlad talking to a thin scientist in the corner of the room. He was definitely up to something, a ball like this had Vlad scheming something with a mad scientist written all over it.
He was brought out from his thoughts as a loud crash could be heard as the wall across the room burst open and none other than the Joker walked through.
Danny tried to make his way to the other side of the gala, strangely Damian had disappeared but Danny didn’t have the time to look for him.
However when he got to the door staying low to the ground the door burst through and more of Joker's goons looked straight at him and he found himself tied up right in front of the Joker.
“What do we have here? A new Wayne?” Joker said as he cupped Danny's face in his hand. Danny couldn’t do anything about the situation and he was getting a little scared considering he didn’t have a proper way to go ghost or protect his soulmate at the moment.
The Joker circled around the tied up hostages laughing, “Of course now the fun begins”
The Joker continued to circle around the hostages thinking for a moment before he grabbed Danny.
He held Danny by the back of the shirt like a small kitten. His obsession was making him wonder if his soulmate was safe living in Gotham. Joker chuckled as he continued to hold Danny.
“This kid will be an example for the rest of you, I don’t want any outbursts like that again, especially when Batman gets here. Do you think Batman will like what I’ve done with the place?” He asked as he gestured around the ruined room. All of the tables and chairs had either been broken or knocked over and all of the food from the dessert and appetizer tables. It was quite the mess. Before Joker could do much else with the teen he had dangling in his grasp something flew out and smacked Joker right in the back of the head causing him to drop Danny.
Danny took that opportunity to get away, his hands may have been tied but his feet were sure free. He stumbled away as Batman dropped down and a fight between him and the Joker commenced.
Danny ran towards the door and as he got there Robin and Nightwing were there ushering some of the other hostages out of the room.
“Right this way citizens!” Nightwing said brightly at them but he seemed to brighten up a bit more when he saw Danny weirdly.
“Have either of you seen Damian Wayne?” Danny asked, he at least wanted to get his number, especially when he was headed back to Amity soon.
They seemed to share a look before looking back at him, “Damian left, he’s headed safely back to Wayne manor.” Robin said but he held out a piece of paper. On it was Damians signature and his phone number. Danny sighed a little annoyed he had left but he guessed it was common to head back home after a rogue attack in Gotham.
“Danny!!” the booming voice of Jack Fenton was suddenly heard and Danny felt himself getting pulled into a very familiar bear hug.
“Did you have fun at the gala? Your father and I saw you talking to Mr. Wayne's son,” His mother said after his feet were back on the ground.
“Yeah, actually can we talk about that after we’re back in our room?” He wanted to tell his parents he found his soulmate but saying that outloud when Damian was the son of Bruce Wayne sounded like a bad idea.
They headed back to the hotel room and all Danny could think about was how lucky he was to have met his soulmate tonight, even if he was nervous about everything.
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#dp x dc prompt#dp x dc#dc x dp#danny fenton#danny phantom#poor danny#Damian thinks its cute that he flustered his soulmate so much#I feel like I'm bad at this LMAO#how does one write romance?#Please tell me if I'm doing this wrong#I want to write the reveal but I don't want to do it right away#suspense? how do I write that?#Well I tried to do a little bit of action#I love the idea that Danny's so light everyone just throws him around like a ragdoll#Ragdoll theory? I cant remember if there was an actual name for it#anyways I've got to go look for a job now#my asks are open#all my prompts are free to use#soulmates
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