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mysecretlittlelibrary · 9 months

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You Learn Something New Everyday... I Guess

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: none really, just Matt being a little self loathing

Genre: fluff? very very minor angst

Summary: You have a theory about your local vigilante that your friends think is silly (spoiler alert; it's literally not)

A/N: Because I refuse to believe no one has ever seen Daredevil and considered the fact that he is NEVER LOOKIN AT SHIT

***

You spin the straw in your drink while half listening to Foggy and Karen talk to each other about something you lost track of a little while ago. Something about a case last you were paying attention but they tend to spend so much time talking about work even on nights out you can't always keep track of it all.

"So what're your thoughts about the whole thing?" Karen asks as you stare into your glass.

"Y/n!" Foggy nudges you and your eyes snap up.

"Yes! Sorry. What was the question?" You ask.

"Daredevil, what're your thoughts on him?" Foggy nods towards the TV in the bar that's apparently playing a news story about Daredevil's latest escapades.

"He doesn't see." You shrug looking back at your drink.

"Doesn't see what?" Foggy frowns.

"Sorry, that's not quite what I meant to say; I meant he doesn't use his eyes to fight." You say looking up again.

"Wait what?" Karen shakes her head.

"I dunno, the eyes in his mask look opaque but also if you've ever watched him fight he doesn't really... look at things. The whole time his head does this twitchy thing like when dogs hear a sound but can't see it, as if he's trying to hear everything better." You explain.

"Are you- suggesting that Daredevil... is blind?" Karen asks.

"Well it's hard to know for sure if he's completely blind or not but I'd bet that he's probably at least visually impaired."

"You think a vigilante is visually impaired." Foggy scoffs.

"I know it sounds absurd but I mean before the fancy suit and the moniker he was the man in black, he wore like a black cloth that covered his eyes he's obviously not using them." You shrug.

"Maybe he could see through it." He says.

"No- for it to be sheer enough for him to see through it, especially at night it would also probably be sheer enough to see him through, at least in the light, and he's got like an airtight lock on his secret identity. Even before he had the suit." You shake your head. "Maybe that's why." You add with a hum.

"Maybe what's why?"

"If he's visually impaired as I suspect he is, nobody would believe he's Daredevil! I mean he takes on gangs singlehandedly in the shadows of Hell's Kitchen all the time there's no way you'd expect a blind man to be doing all that. It would make the perfect cover story, plus if he gets injured I mean- he's blind nobody would question him saying he bumped into something or fell or even someone threw something and he didn't know. It's kind of genius."

"Look who decided to join us!" Karen smiles excitedly and you turn to see Matt standing between you and Foggy.

"About time loser! Why are all of you so obsessed with work?" You scoff.

"Hi guys." He chuckles.

"Hey man, you'll never guess what theory y/n here has cooked up." Foggy says.

"Hey! Don't talk about me like I'm some tin foil hat looney alright." You point a finger at him.

"Even you admitted how absurd it sounded!" Foggy says.

"Sure but I provided ample evidence to support my claim it's not some baseless conclusion I'm jumping to!" You say.

"It's circumstantial at best." Foggy says.

"Well this isn't a court of law Nelson we're at Josie's and I don't have to be an expert witness to draw conclusions here I think I've more than proved my stance."

"Not beyond a shadow of a doubt!"

"Excuse me we aren't running a criminal trial there's no reason I should have to work to those standards I think- what's the other thing y'all use? A preponderance of the evidence, I think that's more than sufficient-"

"Is one of you going to tell me what this is about or are you going to keep throwing around legal jargon in a bar?" Matt cuts your arguing with Foggy short with a question while Karen gets up to grab him a seat at your table. "Honestly y/n you spend too much time with us, when did you pick up all those phrases anyway?" Matt muses.

"I dunno Foggy likes to throw them at me and I like to be able to fight back." You shrug.

"Y/n thinks Daredevil is blind." Karen tells Matt, returning to her own chair.

"You think Daredevil... like the vigilante is blind?" Matt chuckles.

"See what I mean?" Foggy gestures.

"I don't know that I'd go with totally blind but I think he's visually impaired at least." You nod.

"How do you figure that?" Matt asks.

"Something about his helmet." Foggy says.

"Well that one I can't verify but before he had the devil suit, when he was just the man in black he was basically fighting with a blindfold on. Why would someone with perfect vision handicap themselves that way? Especially taking on criminals severely outnumbered every time it doesn't make sense. Oh and he does this head twitch thing like he's seeing with his ears and not his eyes. Like an animal when locating a sound they turn their ears to it first. It's the perfect cover honestly." You shrug. "Kinda like that kid in Queens."

"What kid?" Foggy asks.

"Another masked hero type, red and blue suit, they call him Spiderman over there." You pull out your phone to find one of the several viral videos of Spiderman you've seen. "To clarify, I don't think he's also blind or anything like Daredevil but I'm pretty sure he's a teenager." You say once the video ends.

"You think that's a child?!" Foggy looks at you incredulously.

"I mean I've seen a few of these clips of him, and between his build and his voice, because he talks in some of these, and his movements- there's almost no way that's an adult, but he can stop a bus with his bare hands so no one is looking at him and assuming a high schooler is doing that. I just happen to know a little too much about anatomy and physiology and he looks like a teenager. Again, another perfect cover, the least likely person."

"So- you watched that guy, do that, and your first thought was 'he can't buy alcohol yet'. Seriously?" Foggy asks.

"Well no actually I didn't think much of it at first but after a few clips, I started to wonder. I mean it's just a guess since his suit covers him from head to toe but I'm pretty confident in it." You shrug.

"You're insane. For this and the Daredevil thing." Karen nods.

"Excuse me for daring to consider all options." You say dramatically and Matt chuckles beside you but doesn't offer much on the subject. From there your conversation pivots topics and you all spend another hour or two talking and drinking before eventually calling it a night and going your separate ways home.

~*~*~

"Y/n." The voice startles you as you walk into your apartment and you let out a scream, clutching your chest as you take in the intruder by your balcony.

"Okay. I know you're a vigilante so you work outside of the law kind of by default here but you better have a damn good reason for breaking into my apartment, as in someone better be on their way to kill me right now or I am going to be so pissed off." You say after a moment because why the hell is Daredevil standing in your apartment?!

"No one is coming to kill you." He shakes his head.

"Then what the hell are you doing here?" You cross your arms.

"I wanna know how you figured it out."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"You figured out that I'm- I don't see when I fight. How did you know that?"

"Better question, how did you know that I knew that? Although, I didn't know for sure until you just said that, but how did you know I thought that?" You ask. Daredevil pulls off his helmet and you gasp. "Matt?"

"Don't act coy okay, we both know you knew it was me already." He rolls his eyes.

"No I didn't! If I knew it was you, or thought it was you, I would've said so the other night when we were talking about the whole thing. You know I've never been one to shy away from sharing what I'm thinking- oh my GOD you're daredevil!?" You shake your head as the information sinks in. You don't know which piece of this you're more interested in, the fact that you were right about Daredevil being blind or the fact that he's coincidentally also part of your friend group.

"Oh come on, you spent twenty minutes arguing that you think Daredevil is visually impaired are you telling me it didn't cross your mind for even a moment that it was me?"

"Okay first of all Matthew, you're not the only blind guy this side of the Hudson you know. Going from Daredevil may be visually impaired to Daredevil is the only blind man I know personally is quite a jump considering it was just a theory. Not to mention fair skinned man average height, average build, describes so many men in Hell's Kitchen not to mention the rest of New York. Hell, Tony Stark fits that description and if he wasn't already such an obnoxiously public superhero on the other side of the city I'd believe someone suspecting him of being Daredevil too."

"So you never once thought it was me?" Matt scoffs.

"I mean it crossed my mind once or twice but it's not like I could know for sure. That helmet covers like 80% of your face and you work almost exclusively at night it's not exactly cut and dry to ID you. I mean you've already had a copycat come around once." You explain.

"Why didn't you ask?"

"What?"

"At the bar, the other night, if you thought it was me why didn't you ask me?" He asks.

"Well if I asked and you told me the truth anyone at the bar could've heard and, I know Daredevil has quite a few enemies. If you lied to protect your identity because we were in public well, we both know I expect honesty from you so why risk that rift? And then of course there's the possibility that I was wrong in which case all of you would look at me like I'd grown three heads- not that the whole 'Daredevil is blind' theory didn't already have them looking at me funny but that's besides the point. There was no good outcome for me asking in public. Plus there wasn't even a reason for me to ask you really, I didn't know enough to say you, Matt, and any distinct similarities with you, Daredevil besides the way you react to sound." You shrug.

"What?"

"It was watching you- as Matthew- react to sound that made me piece together the Daredevil thing." You say.

"And you still didn't think it was me?"

"Again you aren't the only blind man around here, I figured reacting to sound that way was just a common trait for people who have to rely on senses other than sight."

"You got everything all figured out don't ya." He shakes his head.

"Well come on I am kind of known for it." You smile and Matt chuckles in spite of himself.

"You're taking this better than I expected. You're not mad."

"That you're a vigilante in your free time? Of course I'm not mad. I've always encouraged you and Foggy and Karen to have lives outside of your job and while your choice is a little... unorthodox, I think everyone should have a hobby. If this is yours I'm all for it. Although it does feel kind of work adjacent since you're like a lawyer but I'll let it go." You muse.

"Foggy and Karen had... very different reactions to the news."

"Wait- Karen and Foggy know?"

"Yeah- yeah they know. But, I had to tell them because of extenuating circumstances. You, you just guessed it."

"I mean technically it was more of an inference than a guess, plus I didn't even guess that it was you just that the red devil didn't need his eyes for a fight." You shrug. "I can't believe they knew and had me feeling crazy at the table." You chuckle.

"It wasn't their secret to tell. I had to be the one to let you know, they were just keeping their promises-"

"I know. I'm not even mad about it. It's just funny." You shrug.

"You are being very chill about all of this." Matt says.

"So are you like- not fully blind? Because I was operating with the idea that Daredevil didn't have 20/20 vision or anything but like I definitely wasn't thinking total blindness which- I thought you had. So is that not the case? Like are you not fully blind?"

"I am. Kind of. It's hard to explain." He grimaces.

"Well have a seat and we'll discuss i- actually, is your suit clean or did you just get done vigilanteing because I do not want blood or mud on my couch so you'll have to clean up, I can go find one of your accidentally left here hoodies if you need to change." You offer.

"Tonight's battles were pretty clean I think I'm good." He says with his hands up.

"To be on the safe side sit at one of the kitchen stools."

"Yes ma'am." He nods and walks over to a chair to have a seat.

"So- are you totally blind? Yes or no?"

"Technically yes."

"Technically?"

"The entire world looks like it's engulfed in flames. I can see silhouettes sometimes but they're are angry reds and oranges. They do not paint a picture at all really." He explains.

"Interesting." You hum.

"But, I've learned to see in other ways. Sound is a big one. I can even hear people's hearts beating."

"You can hear hearts beating?!" You blink at him.

"Yes." He nods once.

"Can you hear mine?!"

"Yes." Another nod.

"Woah. What do you use that skill for?"

"Number of enemies in a fight, counting the people in a room before I enter it, seeing if someone's lying to me." Matt lists off.

"Have you ever used it on me?"

"You don't lie to me." He shrugs.

"So that's a yes."

"It's a no. Not intentionally anyway. You've never given me a reason to even suspect you of lying." He says.

"So how else do you see?"

"Smell kind of, touch when I can. Sound is the main one though."

"You're like a bat." You giggle.

"Ha ha." His laugh is dripping with sarcasm that only makes you want to giggle more.

"Wait so- if you can do all this shit I take it you don't really need your cane then, do you?"

"Not- not really no."

"It's part of the cover then- isn't it?"

"Correct." He says.

"Hm, I assume this is also why you don't date, right?"

"Excuse me?"

"It's just that I imagine this Daredevil thing takes quite a bit of time, between that and the job that you never take a break from you basically have negative 2 hours of free time both of which you spend with either me or your coworkers. Plus I'm sure this would be one hell of a secret to try and keep from a significant other because it's not like you can tell them on the first date right? You never know who's working with your opps so you need to vet people so having to hide it until you know it's safe, which would probably totally suck." You rattle off your explanation.

"Okay first of all I date." He scoffs.

"You don't. You hook up with people sure but you do not date. I was honestly starting to think you were some level of aromantic and I guess you still could be and that's totally fine by the way but not having time because you're a part-time vigilante makes sense." You shrug.

"I'm not aromantic and me 'not dating' isn't because of the Daredevil thing."

"Of course it's not." You say.

"You're being sarcastic aren't you?"

"A little, but hey you don't have to explain your lack of romantic life to me. I was just being nosy."

"What about you? You don't date either." Matt crosses his arms.

"I do date actually and the reason you don't know that is because you never ask but if you don't wanna talk about your not dating that's fine." You say.

"I have my reasons."

"I'm sure you do Matty, you're entitled to them. No need to defend yourself to me."

"It's not related to being Daredevil." He says.

"Do you want to tell me about it or no? If so, great let's talk about it, if not I've had a long day and I'm a little tired babes. You can go back out the window I assume you came through or you can use the door-"

"You." He cuts off your last sentence with a single word.

"Excuse me?" You frown at him.

"You are the reason I don't date."

"What did I do?" You blink incredulously.

"Nothing. I have feelings for you so I don't date other people. I'm Daredevil so I don't tell you that I have feelings for you because it's dangerous, because it was a secret I couldn't tell you, because I don't get the girl."

"You don't get the girl? Do you think you're the antihero in a movie? It doesn't work that way Matt. If you liked me the proper course of action is to say something to me don't make it into some big dramatic story arc that's doomed from the start, everything with you is self sabotage mission. Do you really believe yourself that undeserving of good things, of things you want, of happiness?" This isn't the first time Matt has done something in direct conflict of his happiness so you're not surprised, but since the thing in question regards you, you can't help but feel exasperated.

"I-" Matt trails off with a frown that makes his entire face squeeze. "I don't know what you want me to say."

"Why tell me this now? If you 'don't get the girl' if you can't have a relationship because it's 'too dangerous' or whatever silly reason you have for hiding it in the first place. Why are you telling me now?"

"You asked and I'm tired of hiding it I guess."

"Tired of hiding it. You didn't have to hide it."

"I didn't- do you honestly think that if I told you like six months ago, that I'm Daredevil and that Hell's Kitchen's notorious vigilante has feelings for you, do you think you would've reacted well?"

"I like to think I would, yes, but who cares that's not what happened. You told me tonight so, now what?"

"Now what?" He blinks at you.

"You're Daredevil and you have feelings for me so what happens now? Do we- continue as we've been? Do we see where this goes? What do you want now?"

"See where this goes? You'd want that? With me? To see where it goes?" He asks, he looks so lost that you can't help but sigh.

"Yes that's why I asked. Is it so unbelievable that I could also have feelings for you?" You ask softly.

"Well you didn't exactly say that-"

"I'm saying now. So- ask me on a date, or go home."

"Ask you on a date?"

"That's what I said Matthew. For a fancy defense attorney who graduated from Columbia Law, you are lost in an extremely too easy to follow conversation."

"None of this has been easy to follow okay? I never thought I'd get the chance to-" Matt trails off and shakes his head remembering your instructions. "Would you like to go to dinner with me tomorrow night?"

"Yes I would. Eight o'clock. Don't be late." You say with a smile.

"Eight o'clock. I'll be here. See you tomorrow." Matt nods with an adorable grin on his face.

"Goodnight Matthew." You hum.

"Goodnight." He says putting his helmet back on and climbing out your window.

"He could've used the door." You mutter to yourself shaking your head. You still can't totally believe you were right about Daredevil being blind but more shocking is that it wasn't even the biggest reveal you got this evening. Life really does come at you fast.

***

#marvel #marvel fanfiction #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock #daredevil fanfiction #daredevil #matt murdock x black!reader #matt murdock fluff #daredevil fluff

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sinofthesloth · 7 months

Text

𝕊𝕥𝕦𝕕𝕪 𝔻𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕤?

synopsis: How would the first year react to being on a “study date” with you.

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ FT. Ace, Deuce, Jack, Epel, and Sebek ♥

★彡[ᴀᴄᴇ ᴛʀᴀᴘᴘᴏʟᴀ]彡★

You didn’t technically ask him to go on a study date, but it was the only way Riddle was going to let him spend time with you.

Everyone knew you both like each other, but Riddle was very strict when it comes to... anything really. There was rules to everything with Riddle. During the time Ace wanted to ask you on a date, or to hang out to get closer to you, Riddle would interrupt about some rule made by a long dead queen.

You saw Riddle trying to drag Ace into a study secession with himself and Deuce after the issue with Azul. Being tired of constant interruptions, you told Riddle that you asked Ace to help you study for the upcoming basic healing magic test. Riddle said you could join the three of them, and that’s how you ended up here. Sitting next to Ace.

While Riddle and Deuce focused on math, Ace stared boringly at the words on the page. The knowledge of the magic was both interesting to learn about, but boring since you couldn’t perform it.

Ace, even though he was sitting next to you, was passing you notes under the table. Some were funny, some were cute. But the best ones were the bad drawings of Riddle. They were stick figures with its mouth open and hold a shitty drawing of Riddle’s staff and crown with a bubble saying, “I love to get in the way of love. It goes against the rules to love anyone other than the rules.”

You’d snicker at each one and pass your own notes back. It was like the two of you were in middle school.

Sometimes you’d point to a word and laugh as Ace tried to pronounce it in the dumbest ways. Clearly fucking the word only for Riddle to correctly pronounce it.

When he would try to look at the book with you, he’d place his hand over yours for some kind of contact, but he’d never tell you that. He’d lie and say he didn’t notice. Only to not let your hand go until you had to turn the page.

You did distract Deuce a few times as Ace would continue trying to make you laugh.

No real studying was done, much to Riddle’s disappointment.

★彡[ᴅᴇᴜᴄᴇ ꜱᴘᴀᴅᴇ]彡★

He asked you to help him study last minute.

He normally studies with Riddle, Trey, or Cater, but all three were busy with their own upcoming tests, and he didn’t trust Ace to actually help him study.

The two of you are at Ramshackle so neither of you will be embarrassed about some of the dumb questions the other would most definitely be asking.

“Wait so, if you don’t stir the potions in the proper direction, I could mess up the entire recipe?”

“I mean, probably. There must be a reason people purposely put which direction to stir it.”

Deuce, though lovable, is an idiot. He summoned a cauldron, almost dropped it on you, and then halfway through making a mock potion, realized neither of you had all the needed items. So in your pajamas, you both walked to very much closed botanical garden. His test was in the morning and poor guy was panicking over not being able to get one last chance to practice.

You both had to talk the other out of breaking in. You wanted to do it so he would feel better about the test. He also wanted to do it to get more practice. But neither of you wanted to deal with Crewel’s anger over the thieving, broken glass, and your poor time management.

He ending up spending the night because the two of you fell asleep in the lounge area to him repeating the ten potential potion’s recipes.

★彡[ᴊᴀᴄᴋ ʜᴏᴡʟ]彡★

You asked him if the two of you could study together.

Seeing it was you that needed help, he wasn’t really focused on studying himself.

He had you sitting on the floor in front of the couch so he could play with your hair and help you when or if you needed it. Jack kept the things around Ramshackle from completely falling apart while you tried to study.

Ace needs help running from Riddle? Jack lets him inside due to you telling him to, but the second he distracts you? Jack is calling Riddle.

Deuce coming over to join you while studying? Jack has you sitting in the middle with his arm around you to read off your text book. He will also use that hand to make sure Deuce pays attention to his own work by putting his hand on the top of his head to turn it. “You need to read your work too.”

Jack enjoys these little study dates because the way you light up when he tells you that you’re right. He loves seeing the smile it puts on your face and seeing you get excited for more of his praise.

★彡[ᴇᴘᴇʟ ꜰᴇʟᴍɪᴇʀ]彡★

He asked you. At first he was telling himself it was to get away from Vil, but then it shifted into wanting to see you more.

He started coming over to Ramshackle so much under the excuse of studying that Vil and Rook asked to join. It’s not that they didn’t believe him but his grades didn’t move any in the last test.

Epel didn’t say yes, but he also didn’t say no, so they showed up about thirty minutes after Epel should have arrived to Ramshackle. They knock and Grim was the one who opened the door. “If you’re looking for the country boy, he’s in the living area with MY henchman.” Grim clearly didn’t like the fact your time was being spent on someone else.

When the pair walked into the living area, they saw you and Epel reading out of the same book. It seems Epel hadn’t brought his study stuff.

Neither of you notice the duo as the looked at the two of you. Epel began muttering something as he waved his magic pen and a green mist coated the apple he tapped.

Vil and Rook didn’t metal with either of you as you both tried to figure out why It hadn’t worked. Epel seemed a bit upset it didn’t work and glared daggers at it. “Maybe it was because you weren’t speaking how you normally do?”

Epel tried again without attempting to sound proper. “In all honesty I prefer your accent. No one else around here sounds like you.”

It still didn't work.

"Speak louder and with more confidence. The more you mumble, the harder casting will be." Vil spoke to make himself present.

All four of you continued studying with minimal

★彡[ꜱᴇʙᴇᴋ ᴢɪɢᴠᴏʟᴛ]彡★

You invited him, but he originally said no. He is only here because Lilia told him that Malleus thought it would be interesting to study with a human from another world.

Sebek promised him that he would study with you and retell him everything about the study session. I didn’t see it as a date. At first.

You decided to study in the living room since he opened his mouth about how decrypt the dorm was as soon as he walked in. You tried not to let it get to you since you knew he spoke his thoughts as soon as they entered his mind.

You brought your books down as he set himself up to begin studying, and even asked if he wanted anything to snack on. Bringing a plate of cookies and a few pillows to sit on.

Sebek didn’t ask for anything during the time the two of you studied. Every now and then you had to ask him about the history of something, and he’d answer. After answering a question, he’d take a cookie and return to his own studies. Without realizing it, he began anticipating your questions. Sitting and waiting for you to ask anything about fae history.

You made the mistake of asking about past fae rulers.

At this point, he seemed to have forgotten about his study. He was going on and on about each past ruler. Telling stories of his grandfather's travels with a magnificent, blood-red haired fae. You wrote everything down. The material didn't even fit the parameters of the questions asked. It was simply to read them over and over again, hoping to ingrain the way Sebek faces lit up when speaking of his family's past.

Once he got to speaking on how Malleus was going to make a great leader and how he couldn't wait to guard him with his life, his eyes met yours. A smile graced your face as you looked back to your work.

"The next time I come over, we can discuss further on the matter. You must know next to nothing of the subject and you're lucky I care about your studies."

Maybe he wouldn't share the discovery of how sweet your cookies are or how his chest tightened when he saw how immersed you were with his topic. Maybe he could be a little selfish when it came to his studies with you.

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i9fairy · 28 days

Text

ship: leon kennedy x neutral reader

sinopse: just leon and you in a intimate and very private situationship.

n/a: Sorry if there are any mistakes! English is not my main language And this is my first time writing something like this.

It was a Friday night when I saw him again, standing at my door. With his face bruised, with its blonde strands falling over his face like a jigsaw puzzle, there were scratches on his arms that could be seen with the naked eye. When he saw that I was looking there, probably with my face of silly concern, he spoke.

"I'm fine," he said. I didn't believe him.

But what else could I do? I let it go.

Leon Scott Kennedy and I had been at this routine dance since we finished. He would come home, his house in fact, after each mission. I would pretend not to see his red and white scars (the ones that had already healed) and we would hang out. As a bonus, I pretended I didn't feel his presence sitting on my bed when I retired to sleep. I pretended not to feel his arms when he hugged me while I, supposedly, slept...Ours was complicated. we broke up after he went to Spain and when he came back... His nightmares consumed him and consequently his traumas swallowed our relationship. What followed were days of discussing what was going to happen. I lived, well, I'm still living, alone with him. We both decided to keep things as they were, to let our department just stay that way. He paid for it, because his secret work, which he couldn't tell me anything about but which on more than one occasion had made him almost never return, left a good pay, even if it was at the expense of his mental health. In addition, it had already been difficult enough to enter the market of looking for a job despite my university career, even more difficult was going to be the fact of getting a job as an infant teacher and with my salary... No, no way. Leon had been kind enough to that and I will always be grateful to him.

And my way of thanking him was by making him homemade cookies, Leon loved it when I cooked for him, and healing his wounds by changing his bandages. It was routine, it was simple, it was quiet. What Leon needed after the hell he had lived through, although I couldn't even imagine it. At that moment we were both on the couch, here was our tacit deal: he would buy me whatever I wanted (even if I didn't tell him, because I still had pikes of shame in me) and I wouldn't ask about what happened. Nothing at all. I was just assuming or drawing conclusions about how bad it had been this time because of the number of injuries.

And here was my conclusion this time, it had been moderately bad.

"did you try a new method?" he questioned, looking at my cookies. I wasn't stupid, of course I wasn't, I knew Leon thought I was, but no sir. I had looked at files on his computer and... I remember not eating that day. It was horrifying. "Why? Did you notice that they are more delicious this time?" I asked. "mh... maybe worse than last time. bug don't worry, you're going to get better at your cooking skills," he teased and we both laughed. I did it against my will. In those moments I wondered, why had we broken up? Our inside jokes were still intact and he made us both smile like the first day we had thought of it, our chemistry was in the air and I saw him like pink hearts around him even seeing him in all the ways you could see a human being and still love him... My love for him was intact, I knew that his love for me too otherwise, he would not return to my arms every time.

After we both fell asleep on the couch, he returned to his work a week later. And he came home months later, maybe two or three. I never counted them because I was too nervous.

When he came back, I saw that the refrigerator was missing beers, I saw that there were drops of blood from my refrigerator to the bathroom and I heard the shower running.

There, there was the reason why we broke up. Again he had relapsed.

Because that was the thing with Leon Kennedy, living with him wasn't difficult at all. The really difficult thing was to live with his footprints.

#resident evil x reader #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy x fem reader #resident evil x you #fluff #angst #midly angst #I don't know this is my first time #leon kennedy x reader #leon x you #leon x reader #leon kennedy #leon imagine #leon scott kennedy

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kel-lance · 1 month

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Movie Night: fem!reader x Itadori, Megumi, Toge, Yuta Part 2

Warnings: MDNI, Group sex, camera use, teasing, humiliation, mmfmm, everyone’s bi/pan, overstimulation, worship, etc(?)

premise: You hosted a game and movie night, bc it was making and nobara s anniversary and they were going out for the weekend. Okay so sodas, pizzas, snacks, really really bad movies…. sad movies, and finally scary movies. Perfect to watch with whoever could make it to your last minute plans. Turned out to be Yuuji, Megumi, Toge, and Yuta… oh great…

————————————————

“Megumi, are you paying attention?”

“And if you want them to do this,” you yelp higher this time, more surprised than anyone that Toge knew exactly which spot Yuta was talking about. He does it again to show his underclassman, slowly this time drawing out the same noise.

“Remember what I said, if you make her come before I get to I’m unleashing mahagara on all of us.” The other guys sigh and let you go. They sit back, beaming, almost satisfied with what they got out of the moment.

You’re moved from everyone’s reach, to sitting in-between megumi’s legs, his body almost swallowing yours. His long arms tried to hide you away from the others’ greedy hands and you almost let him erase you before feeling more of him. It almost took you by surprise, that he was poking at you.

You let your head fell back onto his shoulder, wondering what face megs could be making. He’s trying so hard to hold back right now. The faint grinding of your ass onto his thighs was already enough. He gasped hard, trying not to look at you, focusing so his body could last.

You crane up and kiss his cheek, this was the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. Megumi never fights back against you, so seeing him trying to deny what he’s fantasized for years, you regained your playfulness and hopped off his lap.

Turning to face him, you grasp his face and pull him into a kiss, continuing his streak of pleasure. “They thought they had the upper hand because of numbers, hah.” You were surprised, they almost made you forget how they melt under your touch. You got them to keep up with you, though, of course no one else could compare to Yuuji’s.

Either way, you’ve got fresh meat now and everything from the past comes flooding back. You met tsumiki-chan in elementary school and knew she was going through hard times. You just had a knack of figuring people out as a kid and something drew you to her, more or less a curse found her because of the loss of her parents, you pitied her and exorcised it.

Megumi wondering what happened to that weird thing he used to see on tsumiki and she suddenly feels better when she’s around me? You didn’t mind as they were a fun duo, and you get how they grew up, though you had the school take you in for your sorcery instead of certain super famous super powerful super hot descendants of certain clans. *rolls eyes*

“This is my best friend’s brother, she knew about his crush but will she kill me?!” You’re brought back as you felt meg’s tongue trace your bottom lip. “She’d be happy for us.” You dive into him, pushing him back into the headboard, ignoring the other guys watching, commenting among themselves of the show before them.

You’re on all fours while kissing him into the bed frame, ass in the air, hands pressing onto his hard chest and abs. It was someone completely new, a body that you haven’t fully familiarized yourself with, yet it’s been waiting for you.

“Are you ready?” You asked, pulling yourself back to take off just the t shirt you were wearing for movie night. I mean it was your house and you asked them to come over… you could’ve started this whenever you wanted.

——switching writing style-——

- you hover over him and tease him by dipping your hips down, he’s barely entering you but still getting his raw head

- He’s whimpering and holding onto you as he cums right away and you’re loving it, giving him words of encouragement and saying how he’s so good

- He’s whisperer he’s sorry and you tell him he’s gonna fuck you as much as he’s waited for

- “She’s loving this” they chatter

- “I remember our first time…”

- “Salmon salmon”

- Tell me when you want me to move. You’re still hard, unless you need a second?

- He huffs as he holds you and says yeah

- Yuuji comes over to sit him up and hold him as he needs aftercare.

- I guess we have our order now. Don’t tire yourself out y/n yuujis bright eyes gave a lustful hint that he’s really going to enjoy todays session

- Toge pulls you to the end of the bed and has you bend kneed on the floor as he uses his fingers to fuck you into finishing and to make it easier to scoop out megumi’s cum

- He licks you clean and spits it onto megumi who both try to fight before you hazily ask them to help you do that again and you loved it

- Yuta has you sit on his dick, showing the others about the rules of your body and how to treat you until you try to move.

- He gets excited and start to go crazy with the angles and how he’ll manipulate how gravity will make you fall back onto his dick splitting you open, getting deeper and deeper, getting more intense, so intense you gave up breathing until the involuntary gasping comes.

- There was no one else but you two, his hand grabbing at your throat to keep you up, the other hand across your womb, feeling himself through and jerking his hips. Your arms were pinned by his chest and behind your back. “Yuta, plea-“ That was the final straw, he didn’t care anymore. Taking his time? Saving his energy? Fuck that, he’s known you once, letting you love him was a huge step from coming out of “neglectbernation” or his hermit phase, but he couldn’t choose between his trauma and you, his past or his future, Rika or you. You knew he didn’t need her, you were fine with it actually when he broke the curse, but then he started to be weird about it. almost forgetting that you and rika weren’t the same person, that you weren’t a body replacement for her, it just was bad to be around so you left, noticing that he and toge started to hang out together more if they’re not watching u.

- Anyway from this position if he lets go of the weight of your whole body falls onto his cock, and he bounces you back you in ease. This would be so hot if the other boys weren’t trying to claim your face

- Yuta was the most fixed on you while toge was the most needy. Yuuji was the most clingy and Megumi was the most yearned.

- Toge come over here and help us out. Toge puts himself in you too, you can feel yuta digging in deep from behind while toge rubs against your g-spot or is that your bladder?

- You don’t know as yuta holds you up between the two boys.

- You lol your head to the side and the boys nip at your neck and ear and kiss at each other, tongues twirling before they separate on soft parts of your body

- Toge pulls himself out and brings your head down on him. Changing angles yuta rhythmically pounds into you from behind. The angle making him feel larger, you waste no time taking toge in your mouth, you tasted megumis cum, your own juices and the precum of the other two.

- This was an average Tuesday tbh, sometimes yuuji comes by to watch, sometimes we just record and watch later with everyone.

- Right now could be a good time, maybe they set up a camera somewhere before you milked Megs.

- You’ll think about it later, right now why don’t you give him a show.

- You held yourself up with your hands, sometimes with your knees. Putting your hands on the back of his hips to pull and push him into your head rather they bob your head all around.

- You pull him all the way into your throat, letting him adjust and lose himself into the tight wet hot hole. Yuta moving you all around was also aiding in his pleasure.

- Looking up trying to get a glimpse of his pretty purple eyes, you loved being able to hear his voice, so him whimpering had you all sorts of messed up

- Yuta knew it too, his voice being so pretty though demanding, it was so cool. But he also knew because you’d squeeze in him whenever toge got loud.

- Megumi couldn’t stop watching you, he could only admire you, his best friend holding him as he caught his breath.

- He was eating up every angle of you, Yuuji also watching intently, patiently. His bulge was grinding into Megumi, his hands teasing and sensually grabbing at the mess you’ve created. “He could control himself.” We all hoped.

————————————————-

A/N: Next ch is 3/9 (megs fr this time, yuuj, n sukuna. (And finishing off these two.))

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horny-and-dead-inside · 3 months

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Missing you

Bucky Barns x fem!reader

Summary: Bucky misses you and you miss him but you both think that the other has moved on.

Warnings: angst, it’s my first published work so please don’t judge, also i wrote it in like 15 minutes.

Your bed was cold. Empty. Just like your heart. Ever since you broke up you had spent your nights drowning in tears and memories and your days too depressed to leave your house. You stared at the ceiling and all that you saw was Bucky's face. His smile as he stared at you across the table. A single tear dropped from your eye. Why did it always end like this?

Bucky lay on his back in his bed, his arms beneath his head staring at the ceiling a numb feeling encasing his heart. Why couldn’t they just have figured it out? He rolled onto his side and picked up his phone and began looking at the pictures that he couldn’t bring himself to delete. You looked so happy in them.

You picked up your phone, the light hurting your aching eyes as you put in the password. You went to contacts and pulled up his number almost unconsciously. Your finger hovered over the call button and your heart begged you to press it.

Bucky sat up staring at the last picture that you had taken together wishing for a call or text from you. Every time his phone went off his heart leaped with hope that it was you. Almost every day since you had broken up he had almost called you begging you for forgiveness. But something had always stopped him. Maybe he was scared that you already had a new man in your bed, his fingers exploring the places on your body that Bucky knew so well. His lips kissing yours and you smiling into his eyes.

Your finger still hovered over the call icon on your phone but a vicious voice in the back of your head held you back. What if he already had a new girl and they were going out to lunch and laughing the same way that you and him used to laugh for hours. Maybe she was with him right now cuddling closer to him because he kept it so cold in his room.

Why couldn’t you have figured it out?

Bucky leaned his head against the wall and dropped his phone on the bed raking his hand through his hair. Maybe this was for the best. Maybe there was someone better for her somewhere out there. Maybe he would be able to kiss her better and comfort her better when she had arguments with her mom over the phone. Maybe he would be better for her than Bucky ever had been.

You put your phone back on the nightstand by your bed feeling the lump rise in your throat again. “I love you bucky.” you whispered into the dark of your room drawing your knees to your chest with a quiet sob. “I’m so sorry for everything i did wrong.”

Bucky felt tears drip down his cheeks and wiped them away even though more took their place. After a while he fell asleep again and heard your laugh in his dreams along with a small voice telling him not to give up hope. maybe it would turn out right.

As you drifted to sleep you hoped that maybe tomorrow you would work up the courage to call him.

~ it's really short i know but if you want a part 2 please let me know!~

#bucky barnes #bucky barns x reader #bucky barns angst #bucky barns x y/n #bucky barns x female reader

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hanakihan · 6 months

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so since @i-bring-crack gave me the idea now I’m having a brainrot so here we are

‘Tired salaryman transmigrates into other world, decides to chill and accidentally completes the main quest without knowing so’, the thread

- jinchul is your average day to day salaryman who’s exceptional in his field but his life is so repetitive and boring he rarely questions what he does daily, even on weekends he mostly sleeps or works because there’s nothing else to do (he’s like me fr—)

- one night he was returning home after a really hard day at work, one of very few instances where he overworked even by his own standards. he was sleepy and tired enough not to notice moon being too bright and shadows dancing at weird angles around him. he did feel like someone was watching him whole way home so he sped up his walking and that’s exactly how he accidentally fell through one of shadows after stepping on it

- he doesn’t remember everything after that that much, but next thing he knows is that he’s laying in a comfortable bed. then apparently he wakes up in a strange room that kinda looks something straight out of historical drama but also something out of those isekai fantasy novels teenagers love to read. which is even more confusing when a man enters the room. that’s when jinchul realizes he has no idea what language this man speaks.

- apparently after several hours of struggling to communicate mostly through sign language and awkward drawings/sketches, jinchul more or less understands that he’s either sleeping after overworking too much or he’s really been thrown into other world (time??) without any knowledge. Go Gun-Hee (as he suspects man’s name is because he pointed at himself and said it several times) was nice enough to host poor man with amnesia and so is his wife. jinchul is a man of gratitude and considering his position he’s more than happy to help around their estate for sheltering him while also borrowing language books from their library. thank god his company made him learn several languages for business reasons.

- after some time jinchul is able to read and talk in their language so living becomes slightly better. history books of this world provide more context so yes, he’s apparently in some kind of different world where magic exists. he should freak out by this point but honestly when freaking out helped in any situation. there’s whole kingdom, there’s local religion, there’s so much he actually needs to memorize. jinchul is actually glad basic accounting rules from his world work here too so with time jinchul becomes gunhee’s accountant.

- jinchul hates coffee but only after arriving here and seeing there’s no such thing as coffee, jinchul realizes he might’ve been a caffeine addict. there was a solid month where he suffered drawback from its absence and it was impossible to even get up from bed. he hates coffee still but he misses it because now all tiredness crushes down on him in one go

- weirdly enough this world does have something akin to coffee beans but no one knows what do with them. just to test out jinchul buys some (under merchant’s questionable stare) and brews them. turns out it tastes almost exactly like coffee, just less bitter and less caffeine. jinchul’s opportunistic mind started to turn gears in his head.

- through some time jinchul now owns a famous shop, only one in whole country to sells and serves coffee related stuff. he’s more than happy with his arrangement, plus he has his own independent income and more free time to visit gunhee and his wife. he also isn’t that healthy (because honestly who’s he to sell coffee at astronomical price like it was back in his world) but he earns enough for living.

- one evening right before closing his shop is visited by a man. jinchul tenses because there’s something familiar about his presence. something from back from his world. something at last moment before he fell here. even is said man is actually nice, just a little stone faced, jinchul is still on high alert. rightfully so because room feels smaller and darker and he can swear he can feel phantom of a cold hand on his neck. it’s suffocating and for the first time here jinchul actually fears for his life.

- man leaves but occasionally returns from time to time to test different coffee and sweets combinations. there’s nothing much happening but jinchul is always uncomfortable. there’s something threatening but not actively so.

- during one of such visits jinchul is absolutely baffled when this unknown man visits his shop again and gifts him rare calming herbal tea leaves and best brand of kingdom’s chocolate. in exchange he asks for best cup of coffee and best desert jinchul can offer. through observations jinchul offers man’s favorites and was right because now everything is less suffocating and stiffening and for some reason jinchul feels like he passed some sort of test. it’s also the evening jinchul finally learns man’s name - sung jinwoo.

- after that it becomes a routine. jinwoo became non hostile and more approachable (as well as being the one to approach) and jinchul uses it as a chance to have a stable source of information about this world.

- (also because I’m a weak dumbass) jinwoo actually remembering when jinchul’s birthday is (even if he mentioned it only once in passing) at night of said birthday jinwoo ungracefully (even if he wanted it to be graceful) falls through jinchul’s window waking him up. jinwoo snatches barely awake jinchul to his palace to celebrate. jinchul is grateful and but also tired and sleepy so it’s mostly a nice late dinner, a present (magically enhanced ring) and a sleepy good night kiss. jinwoo is so shook he just touches his cheek and awkwardly leaves to sleep in a guest room since jinchul fell asleep in his room. once he’s in bed realization crushes down on him. apparently the most fearsome shadow monarch is deeply in love with a destined one to supposedly murder him. jinwoo’s own plan backfired spectacularly.

- jinwoo’s plan: snatch destined one into their world before church can summon him - let him live here for some time and observe him - approach him with malicious intent to see his reaction - if attacks then murder, if not then make him attached - make destined one attached and be in good relationship to keep a close eye on him so he can strike first in case of murder intent - accidentally become the one attached and fall in love with destined one - wait what???

#solo leveling #woo jin chul #sung jin woo #local humanity’s calamity suffering form backfired plan #it will go down in their history books #church is unholy screeching because they can’t summon the destined one #jinwoo thinks he still won but he literally doesn’t understand jinchul unconsciously has him wrapped around his pinky #jinwoo will never stop hearing teasing from his mom and sis after they saw jinchul sleeping in his bed

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livsoulsecrets · 2 months

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Annabeth&Percy Fic - Nothing in the world belongs to me, but my love mine, all mine

Summary:

Annabeth in the aftermath of Luke’s betrayal, dealing with all she lost and finding some solace in what she gained.

““I just wanted to ask you something,” he started, looking to her once more, “and you can call me stupid for that, really, and I’ll probably deserve it, but… Are you okay?”

Annabeth couldn’t help it. She smiled.

“You’re right. It’s stupid,” she agreed.”

Read on AO3.

—

Annabeth didn’t sleep at all that first night.

She stayed awake in her bed for many hours, even after Malcolm lost his battle to sleep in his armchair across from her.

It had been kind of him to insist on keeping her company after the news about Luke’s betrayal spread through Camp, but there was not much he could do to make things better.

Annabeth did like her siblings and felt like most of them cared about her as well, but she had never felt close to them, not in the way she did with Luke.

She sometimes envied the easy camaraderie the Hermes Cabin shared, the clear affection Apollo’s children showed each other with such ease, or even the ferocious rivalry Ares’ kids had with one another.

Athena’s offspring were much more contained. It wasn’t that they didn’t trust one another. It was simply that they fended for themselves most of the time. They were too attached to their own tastes and beliefs, used to looking after themselves, and very introspective, so much so that it left little for them to bond over, unlike the other campers.

That was why her bond with Luke had always been so precious and permanent, unlike any others. Maybe it was because most of the other kids in her cabin left when summer was over, and Luke stayed all year-round. Perhaps their journey to Camp Half-Blood had just knitted them together in a way the rest of her siblings just couldn’t comprehend.

Before, when she thought of a brother, someone who was trustworthy and kind, she would think of Luke and his sword, cutting through a horde of monsters with one hand while the other held her behind him, protecting her with his own body. She would remember the nights they spent with Thalia around an improvised fire, huddled together for warmth, telling stories until the sun came up.

Now, for as long as she lived, when she thought of a brother, Annabeth would be reminded of Luke’s betrayal. She would be brought back to the exact moment Luke’s eyes flickered in anger as he attacked Percy, his sword descending into him and drawing blood.

Up until that point, she had been frozen, begging all the gods for the scene before her to be a deception, a misunderstanding. Only when Percy fell, clutching his arm against his chest, and grunted in pain did Annabeth snap out of her denial.

All she had was a split second to decide what to do. Who would she protect? Her brother, the hero that she had spent the last five years looking up to? Or the boy she met just a few weeks ago, who was as reckless as he was kind?

She threw the knife Luke had gifted her years ago with the precision he had taught her to have. It landed right across the expanse of his sword, just in time to stop him from slicing into Percy.

The memories came back in full force, and she pushed herself out of bed, desperate to get away from them. She looked out the window and found the sun had already come out.

She changed quickly and left her cabin in a hurry, not knowing where she should go. So, Annabeth just walked aimlessly, avoiding the sight of the packed Hermes Cabin.

She found herself near the lake and was surprised to find she was not the only one seeking its company.

Percy was standing near the riverbank in his orange camp shirt and jeans. She approached him slowly and silently. “Couldn’t sleep?” Annabeth asked once she was close enough to be heard.

Percy startled, turning to face her with a hand over his heart. When he recognized it was just her behind him, Percy lowered his hand with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, long night,” he replied.

She shook her head, crossing the distance between them. “I get it. Same here.”

They remained quiet for some moments, just staring over the expanse of the camp’s lake, shoulder to shoulder.

She felt Percy sneaking glances at her every once in a while, which didn’t help her overwhelmed mind calm down. “Just say it,” she urged finally.

Percy’s cheeks burned scarlet when he was caught in his act, but he was as stubborn as ever when he deflected her question with another, “Say what?”

“That you’re sorry,” she answered, “that you can’t believe Luke could do this, and I should have known it was him sooner–”

His eyes widened. “I wasn’t going to say any of that.”

She turned to face him now, arching an eyebrow in a silent challenge. “What did you want to say, then?”

Percy shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans, averting his gaze for a moment. Annabeth thought she saw some whirlpools forming in the river, but she didn’t have a chance to ask if they were a consequence of Percy’s troubled mind as he started talking again.

“I just wanted to ask you something,” he started, looking to her once more, “and you can call me stupid for that, really, and I’ll probably deserve it, but… Are you okay?”

Annabeth couldn’t help it. She smiled.

“You’re right. It’s stupid,” she agreed. Percy flinched but didn’t seem surprised by her answer. “But thanks for asking, anyway.”

He managed a small smile in return at that. “Sure.”

Annabeth didn’t give him an answer, as she couldn’t even tell how she really felt, but it was enough that he had asked.

“Is your arm okay?”

Percy seemed a bit lost at the sudden change of topic but managed to shake his head. “It’s alright. I took a swim before going to bed, so it helped.”

She nodded her understanding, and they remained quiet for some minutes, just looking at the horizon as the sun climbed higher and higher in the sky.

“Can you help me with something?” Percy blurted out after a while.

She tilted her head and asked, “With what?”

“I wanted to train today. I feel like I’ll need it in the future, you know?” He kept his gaze on her, but it was clear he was nervous.

She knew Percy was dancing around the tricky subject of Luke’s absence, but that request just made it more apparent.

Percy had only ever trained with Luke before. And the reason he would need to train more than ever was Luke’s alliance to Kronos.

The pain that sparkled inside her at those reminders was nonetheless curbed by the satisfaction Percy had come to her to try and mend the gaps Luke left in his life.

He was trusting her to guide him through uncharted territory, seemingly unaware that she was just as clueless as him.

Here was Percy, asking her to train him, to teach him how to fight a friend turned foe. He still believed she had all the answers, even now.

It should terrify her to have that much trust placed upon herself, but it didn’t. For all the people who cultivated high expectations of her — her own mother with her fragile pride, her siblings with their firm belief she was perfect, even Quiron with his cryptic comments, Percy was the only one who seemed to only ever expect Annabeth to be herself.

And, to him, she was someone who could be trusted to find the answers to every problem in the world if she decided it was worth her time.

“I mean, just if you have some free time, like, if you don’t mind,” he added, taking her silence as a negative.

“I don’t mind.” Annabeth cut him off before he descended into nervous mumbling. “Let’s start it now. We still have time until breakfast.”

Percy smiled hesitantly at her, but his grin grew a bit wider when she rolled her eyes at him. It seemed awfully silly of him that he truly believed she wouldn’t spare him all the help he needed to survive after all they had been through.

She started walking towards the training area without looking back at him.

Annabeth still didn’t know how to even start preparing for what was to come or how to live with the gaping hole Luke left behind in their lives.

Her mind often worked on seven different fronts at once every time a problem arose, coming at it from every angle.

That’s what kept her up all night yesterday, and that’s what gave her the push to follow Percy and Luke into the woods when she realized something was off about Luke’s plan.

It had saved her countless times but also drained her in many others.

So, when she picked a celestial bronze sword from the camp’s collection and turned to face Percy, who was already uncapping Riptide, it was a pleasant surprise to find her mind narrowing down to the present moment. Her exhaustion and fear slipped away as she focused on the battle ahead.

Fighting demanded all her concentration, even if it was just training with a friend. It seemed to be the same for Percy, as he aligned his shoulders properly and took a deep breath.

“Ready?” she asked her friend, and the word no longer sounded foreign in her mind when she associated it with Percy.

“Born ready,” he said, as unserious as ever.

She was glad to see that, despite the burden the last few weeks had placed on his shoulders, Percy was still the same maddening boy she observed drooling in his sleep.

Annabeth plunged forward at the same time Percy did, and their swords screeched against one another. She pushed against him and dove, freeing herself from the lock.

Percy chased her when Annabeth was upright again, Riptide slicing in a curt arc that she had a hard time intercepting.

Percy was grinning now, and she had to shove an elbow into his side to distract him, both to gain her some time to attack back and to hide her own smile.

They had both lost so much, but it seemed they had gained something back as well.

“Focus, Seaweed Brain,” she mocked, and lunged at him again.

#pjo #percabeth #percy jackson #annabeth chase #my fics #percabeth fic #pjo tv #pjo series #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo spoilers #pjo show #percy x annabeth #pjo fic

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hobiebrownismygod · 2 months

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INFECTION --> Part 1

made this for my Pookie @tatumis-a idk the concept reminded me of you and I think you'll like it hopefully

42!Miles x Fem!Reader --> Last of Us AU

WC: 1k

A/N: This is basically just a random little AU I wanted to write out for myself 😭 only a short beginning to what is probably gonna end up being a long series. its not gonna follow the plot of the original TLOU but its gonna be fairly similar to stay tuned 🔊 🗣🔥

____________________________________________________________

This was your chance

You lowered yourself out of the window as quietly as you could, silently praying you wouldn't alert any of the guards stationed near the dorms.

You'd been planning this day for weeks. The day you'd finally escape the prison the government called a camp. The enslavement they called schooling.

It wasn't schooling and it wasn't a camp. It was a way for them to turn scared little kids into soldiers for their useless army. So they could send more and more young people out into the fields to die from cordyceps for nothing.

Tomorrow would be the day you'd graduate. 16 years old. Ready to be another soldier. Another pawn.

But you weren't going to let that happen.

You fell to the ground with a thump, immediately dodging behind one of the many wilted bushes surrounding the bottom floor. You watched as one of the guard groups walked by, flashlights aimed towards the ground in front rather than the surrounding areas.

You took your chance to quickly move past, walking along the streets as inconspicuously as you could. You hid from any guards that walked by, hoping they wouldn't notice you in the darkness.

The strict curfew kept the streets empty while the patrol attempted to weed out the few stragglers left behind. It was well past 11pm and basically everyone was asleep by now.

It only took you a few minutes of brisk walking to reach the fence, the only thing separating the camp from the outside world, riddled with infected and rabid animals. Mercenaries and gangs. Psychopaths and murderers.

Yet you had a feeling that the outside world would be a lot better than being entrapped in this suffocating line they expected you to call home.

The outside world would be a lot more welcoming than the government would let on. After all, if the Fireflies could survive, why couldn't you? A "terrorist" group who's sole goal was to save humanity from extinction.

To find a cure.

And now you were going to find them.

Because it was only the Fireflies that could truly make you feel like you belonged.

Like there was something worth living for.

A cure...that would save everyone.

You tossed your backpack over the fence, following after it. The sharp edges of the metal scraped at your hands, leaving behind scratches and drawing blood. You ignored the pain, biting back groans as you heaved yourself over, falling to the ground on the other side.

You immediately felt...vulnerable. Exposed.

Out there, you could be met with anything.

The groans of infected could be heard in the distance. You could always hear them this late at night, but right now their moans seemed much more harrowing.

But you shook off the fear. Finding the Fireflies was the most important thing to you right now.

And that's exactly what you were going to do.

--------------------

Two days later

--------------------

Fuck

You stumbled as you ran through the mall, the sounds of growling and moaning disappearing into the distance behind you. You knew they couldn't follow you into here, the place was too fortified, but you kept running just in case.

You turned the corner quickly, arm outstretched to grab onto the wall and keep you from falling. Your head was turned over your shoulder, looking behind you to make sure you weren't being followed. That was a mistake.

When you looked back in front of you, you immediately stepped back, arms up in the air. Standing in front of you, leaning back against the wall with crimson red leaking out of his side, was a young boy with a gun in his hand, pointed directly at you.

"Step the fuck back." He hissed, shaking the gun at you and cocking it threateningly. You obliged, silently taking a step back and nearly jumping as your back hit the wall. "Look man, I'm not gonna hurt you-"

"Shut up." You nodded, looking down and keeping your hands up while he inspected you, head tilting to the side slightly. "What's your name?" He asked questioningly, voice as icy cold as possible.

"Y/N." You replied, slowly looking back up at him. His gaping wound caught your eye. His shirt was ripped, as though he'd been slashed at with a knife...or with claws. When you squinted your eyes slightly, you could make out...

a bite wound.

Suddenly you stood up straight, your heart dropping into your stomach. "Wh-what is that?" You asked softly, pointing towards his side. He looked down and his eyes widened, a flicker of fear flashing across his face. "Nothing." He said quickly. "Keep your hands in the air."

"Were you bit?" You asked cautiously, putting your hands back up. He hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Yeah. But-"

You cut him off. "Let me go. You're going to die anyways, don't take me down with you."

"I'm not going to die!" He exclaimed nervously, voice trembling and the gun in his hand shaking slightly. He cleared his throat, pointing the gun at you once again. "I'm not going to die."

"Let me guess, you were bit this morning? By one of those monsters out there?" You asked, tilting your head back slightly. "Come on, man. Just let me go."

"I-I-" he hesitated. "You're not gonna believe me." he said quietly, shaking his head.

You narrowed your eyes at him. "What's there to believe?"

He stayed silent for a moment. "This bite...its two weeks old." he whispered, slowly moving his gun down. When you realized he wasn't going to hurt you, his words began to sink in.

"You're lying." You muttered. "You're lying! That's not possible. Everyone turns within three days." You took a cautious step towards him, gesturing for him to show you the wound. "Let me see it."

He leaned back against the wall and sat down, lifting his shirt up slightly. You crouched in front of him, the sight sending a wave of nausea across you. "Oh my god." You whispered softly. He flinched.

The wound was...healed, somewhat. It looked old. Definitely older than other bites you'd seen. It wasn't infected. But how was that possible?

Everyone turns within three days...

"How are you alive?" You whispered.

He stared at you back at you, his eyes filled with what you could only understand as pain. "I don't know."

____________________________________________________________

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kenjakusbrainstem · 2 years

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Rip Your Brain Out (Kenjaku x Reader x Mahito)

Contains: dubcon, kidnapping, dacryphillia, face slapping, tongue fucking, oral (f receiving), restrained reader, body horror (multiple arms), p-i-v sex, spitting, biting to draw blood, mild mind break, technically choking, cumswapping, reader can't see Mahito, mmf 3 way but only one of them gets it in.

I wrote this in like 3 days because I couldn't get it out of my head. Using writing as a coping mechanism to work through my trauma has been nice. I fear I made Kenjaku a little ooc so I actually cut a page and a half from this where I got too in my own feelings about him (rip). Never written a multiple partner scenario so hopefully this practice helps me actually write something better. Please reblog if you enjoy and leave tags or comments, seeing them makes me motivated! Thank you!

You, were a fool, you thought to yourself as you walked through the rain at 3am. Not even ten minutes ago you were dry inside your apartment, getting ready for a long day at work.

Everything was fine until you stepped outside to get a better look at the weather. Unfortunately your muscle memory took over and as you stepped out your hand locked the door behind you as it shut. Your phone and keys sitting just on the other side.

After standing, staring in disbelief at the door for a few moments you resigned yourself to an unpleasant two mile walk to work in the rain. You'd be a little late and wet upon arrival but there wasn't anything else you could do this early in the morning.

Not accustomed to walking in the dark during a storm, you kept your eyes down on your feet watching your step. The last thing you needed was to trip.

The streets in your neighborhood were normally busy, as they were lined with different apartment complexes and small shops. However, they were desolate at this moment.

You'd been walking for about five minutes before you walked straight into a person. The collision didn't seem to phase them, but you nearly jumped out of your skin. You stumbled back and fell right on your ass.

Looking up you watched as the person, a large man with an umbrella, turned around to face you. He simply stood there and stared at you on the ground.

"I'm so sorry! Are you okay?" you asked, trying not to get too upset by focusing on how you could help him. Not that he looked like he needed it. The surreality of the situation made you unsure of what to do or say.

You couldn't see much other than the dark jacket he wore, everything above the waist blocked out by the darkness and the umbrella's shadow.

When you moved to stand, a large hand presented itself in your face. Despite being unsure about the man you assumed he might just not know what to say. This was a weird situation after all. You took his hand and stood.

Now that you were standing you could see him a bit better. His hair a dark curtain around his face and a bored look in his eyes as he stared at you. You frantically tried to brush yourself off, but the rain made it impossible.

"Thank you for the help, sorry for bothering you," you attempted to excuse yourself and step around him, but his large frame made it hard to pass him. It made you nervous the way he just stood there. "I need to get past you."

He stepped closer instead of to the side, placing the umbrella over both of you. You could feel the heat radiating off his body with how close he was.

"What are you doing out alone so late at night?" the stranger asked, his tone hard to distinguish.

"I locked myself out and I'm now just trying to go to work. I'm already going to be late," you figured honesty couldn't hurt at this point. Maybe he would let you leave knowing you were in a hurry and not just out for a walk.

He nodded at you, as if he understood your plight. You couldn't help but feel like he was scrutinizing you more than a normal person would. It was so hard to guess what was strange about this man and this situation because of how odd it was.

"Come with me, someone like you shouldn't be out at this time or in this weather," he pulled you in closer to his side, you somehow hadn't noticed that he still had a grip on your hand. One arm now around your shoulders, he pressed you firmly into his side as his fingers dug into your arm.

You could barely stutter out a confirmation before he was walking the two of you into the direction you had originally been headed. His presence, the aura he gave off just felt so commanding, like going against him would be a bigger mistake than whatever he could do to you.

Regardless of how nervous he made you, you were going in the right direction. And he was keeping you dry. Maybe he was just socially awkward and trying to be kind.

"So, what's your name?" you figured breaking the ice might put ease to the feelings of anxiety in your stomach. The fingers on your arm stroked gentle circles on the wet flesh, like he was soothing a frightened animal.

"My name?" he asked, pausing to think for a moment. It made your anxiety spike, why would he have to think about his name?. "You can call me Kenjaku. That's my name."

You looked up from your feet to his face. He was still looking straight ahead, his side profile much clearer this close up. He must have been at least a foot taller than you, with a strong jaw and very handsome facial features.

For some reason, perhaps foolishness, his striking looks put you at ease. It would be easy to remember his face, if you ever needed to pick him out of a crowd. No matter how strange this was, he was helping you though. Pushing your doubt and anxiety aside you tried again.

"What are you doing out so early, Kenjaku?" you asked, trying to put your nerves at ease. It also helped that you were only about four blocks away from the cafe you worked at. You wouldn't have to deal with this strangeness for much longer.

The laugh that left his throat felt wrong. He pulled your body against him a bit tighter and quickened your pace.

"Oh I was just looking for someone," Kenjaku said, his voice made it sound like he was telling you a joke. You didn't see the humor.

You wanted to vomit. Or run ahead, but based on your height difference and the muscles you could feel pressed against you, you knew that would be a mistake. He would be able to catch you with no trouble.

"I'm sorry to disturb your search! I- I can just go on by myself, we're almost to my workplace anyway," you suggested, squirming in his hold. Even if he was just a helpful stranger, this could be a good chance for you to not only get out of this scenario, but leave him to his own devices.

The hand on your shoulder lifted only to rest on the back of your neck underneath your hair, his grip much lighter here.

"Nonsense, I think I might have found you," his words made your blood run cold. Before you could process what was happening, the hand on your neck harshly struck the back of your neck.

As consciousness left you, you felt him hoist your body in a bridal carry, the umbrella laying forgotten on the sidewalk.

Kenjaku smiled to himself, even if you weren't suitable for his original plan, he might get some use out of you.

---

Kenjaku didn't take to visiting Mahito's sewer hideout very often. Choosing to leave the young curse to his own devices, plus the smell bothered him. However it was very close by and secluded enough for his potential plans.

He needed to see if you could see curses, at the very least. Kenjaku had set out this evening with the intention of scouting for a potential new vessel. However perfect Suguru Geto's body was, it irked him the way he was recognized by people that could cause potential issues for him. He tried to be out of the monks robes whenever he might be seen, but he was quite fond of the more traditional dress.

He really only needed this vessel until October 31st, which wasn't too far away now. He hadn't expected to find anyone so soon, or even at all. Only happening on you by chance, but what is chance if not the universe's chaos in motion?

Now seeing you in a more well lit area, he could already tell that your form would be unsuitable for him and his plans. At the very least though, your supple form could entertain him for a night.

"Geto! What a surprise!" Mahito exclaimed, he was like a puppy who's master had finally returned home. "What did you bring me?"

Kenjaku scoffed, setting your soft body down somewhat gently on a raised surface that was similar to a table.

"They're not for you. I'm going to run a small test, and if they pass they might be useful for me. If not, they'll be discarded," he explained.

Mahito approached your unconscious body, pressing a hand into the flesh of your stomach, where your shirt had ridden up from being manhandled. Kenjaku reached out and slapped the curse's hand away. A wordless way of letting him know to back off.

"Oh are you going to take their body? Use it like a puppet like in those silly human movies? If you use her for that, can I watch?" Mahito twirled his fingers in his long hair.

He knew enough about Kenjaku's technique to know that he could use bodies, but didn't know anything specific. It's not like Kenjaku went around telling everyone he was involved with his deepest secrets.

Kenjaku thought for a moment, he supposed a show wouldn't hurt. Not that he planned on abandoning this vessel at the moment. Mahito's curiosity unknowingly sealing your fate. Mahito could just assist him in using you, he could find some type of lesson in that for the young curse.

"If you behave. Now, I need you to hold their wrists down. I'm going to wake them up," Kenjaku straddled your hips, putting his weight on you to immobilize your legs.

Instead of speaking, Mahito went to stand above your head at the end of the table. Pulling both your arms above your head and holding your wrists in his large hands.

Looming above you, Kenjaku took in your form for a moment. Your body wasn't perfect, none of the ones he'd inhabited had been. Though he'd already decided against using you as a vessel, he couldn't help himself from imagining using you to bring another cursed womb into the world. You certainly weren't fit to bear another like the Itadori child, but perhaps another death painting couldn't hurt.

Lifting his hand to your cheek Kenjaku slapped your face, hard.

A breath ripped itself from your lungs as awareness was forced upon you.

You attempted to cover your sore face but your hands were stuck above your head. Opening your eyes you saw something unfortunately not too surprising. The man from earlier, sitting on your pelvis.

He was smiling down at you. The hand that slapped you now rested on your throat. Not choking, just caressing your flesh, as if he were feeling for a pulse.

"Good morning, how are you feeling?" the cold voice above you asked.

You felt so stupid for trusting a stranger. For locking yourself out. You really were a fool.

"Why?" was all you could think to ask. Trying not to cry as you struggled against his weight. You couldn't free your arms either, though it didn't look like you were caught in anything, it certainly felt like they were in some type of vice.

Kenjaku shifted his hips against yours. Like he was trying to apply pressure, you couldn't tell if he was trying to grind against your core or just discourage you from moving. Feeling tears prick at your eyes, you started to cry, smudging your already rain ruined makeup.

"Geto! She's such a cutie when she cries!" Mahito exclaimed, once again his overly excited nature getting the better of him.

Instead of responding to Mahito, he simply observed your face for a reaction to Mahito's outburst. You looked troubled to say the least, but no more after his strange words.

"Because I thought you might be able to help me," Kenjaku explained, a bit of disappointment evident in his voice. The way he sounded you almost felt sorry for letting him down, shaking your head you pushed the absurd thought down.

His hand rose to cup your cheek again, thumb stroking below your eye, wiping up a mixture of tears and mascara. Perhaps if he interacted with Mahito you might notice, but he doubted it. Lifting his hand, Kenjaku wiped the streak of black across Mahito's cheek, under his eye.

"I'll do whatever you want!" you exclaimed. The gentle action confused you, it also didn't make sense why he was waving his hand in the air above your head. Regardless, begging was the only thing you could think to do in the moment.

"Tell me, are we alone?" Kenjaku asked, knowing your answer before you even looked around the room. Tipping your head back and staring straight into Mahito's chest, staring through it.

The pressure on your wrists lessened, the grip sliding up your arms as if the invisible cuff on each wrist was sliding up to the elbows. Yet you could see nothing, an itch in your mind told you that something was there, just beyond your perception.

"Maybe? I don't know, I'm sorr-!" your sentence was cut off by a shriek as he slapped your face again.

Looking up at him, his expression changed. He was clearly more annoyed than disappointed.

"She's just a normal human and can't see me. Is that what the test was about?" Mahito understood why you were there now, still feeling the need to ask. He squeezed your arms, moving them around a bit, watching the panic in your face intensify.

"Shut up Mahito, I told you to behave," Kenjaku spat out, annoyed at the childish curse. "I'll let you watch if you're quiet."

Your mind was swimming, cheek stinging from the slaps. Trying to wriggle free again, you pressed your hips up and move your legs. You only succeeded in grinding against your captor.

"Mahito? I think you have me confused for someone else. You can let me go, I won't tell anyone I promise!" you saw a ray of hope. If he was after this Mahito person, maybe he'd let you go once you explained you weren't them.

Kenjaku bent over, putting his face right above yours. Kissing at the cheek he slapped. Despite feeling both of his hands at your sides, you felt a hand in your hair holding your head in place.

The annoyed look in his eyes shifted back to disappointment, resting the tip of his nose against yours, he sighed in your face. When he opened his eyes back up, all emotion had left him. Just a blank void staring into your eyes.

"You don't even know I'm not the only one holding you down. He's going to watch me ruin you, then we will see what to do with you from there," Kenjaku kissed the tip of your nose, "If you put on a good enough show I won't rip your brain out."

When he finally kissed you, it was with none of the gentleness his lips had shown your face. Biting into your lip to get you to open your mouth, as you gasped he shoved his tongue down your throat.

His hands snaked their way under your back, nails digging into your skin as he scratched the flesh while pushing up your shirt.

You moaned into the kiss, the pain was unexpected but you still tried to keep up with the kiss. Just so you didn't choke on the tongue working its way around your mouth.

The hand, feeling of a hand, in your hair tightened. You gasped again at the sharp sensation, Kenjaku taking the chance to bite at your tongue as it slowed down in trying to tangle with his own. The taste of blood filling your mouth. He liked an active subject, it was more exciting than one that just cowered in fear.

"Are you trying to suffocate her?" Mahito asked. He wasn't stupid enough to not recognize a kiss, but he'd never seen the man before him express so much emotion without killing someone or speaking about their future.

Kenjaku ignored Mahito for a moment, choosing instead to suck the blood from your mouth. He must have bit your tongue harder than he realized. The taste of your blood in his mouth aroused him though. It had been too long since he'd partaken in pleasures of the flesh in a male body. And his vessel seemed more than capable of reproduction.

Pulling away from your face an inch, Kenjaku hovered above your gasping mouth. Bringing out one of his hands from behind your back, he used his fingers to hold your mouth open. He inspected the damage he'd done to your lips, it seems he'd made those bleed too.

Perhaps this would be good for him, since he seemed so eager already.

"Do you want to see how Noritoshi Kamo created those death painting cursed wombs?" Kenjaku asked Mahito as he continued playing with your lips. You were still breathing deeply, mouth open. Before Mahito could reply Kenjaku spat your blood and his saliva back into your mouth. Covering your mouth with his palm he forced you to swallow.

"We can just make more? Then why do I have to infiltrate their stupid school?" Mahito asked, bored of watching already. Though he did like to watch you squirm, he would prefer to be the source of your trembling.

Kenjaku shook his head, sliding off of your hips to settle himself between your legs. You attempted to kick him but he manipulated your limbs with such ease you weren't sure you were doing anything but making yourself more exhausted. For now Kenjaku just sat, pressed up against your spread legs, his hardening cock lining up with your core.

"No it takes too long, but I can show you the beginning of the process. Do you know much about human impregnation?" Kenjaku asked as he ran his hands across your plush thighs. Even through your clothes he could feel your warmth.

At the mention of impregnation you attempted to close your legs. Unfortunately he was snugly pressed up against you, causing you to wrap your legs around him. His large hands squeezing your thighs, holding them in place.

It was obvious you were only hearing part of a conversation. As if he were talking to himself, but the hands on your arms and in your hair made you sure you were the crazy one and not him. At least you assumed they were hands, the ghost of a touch with the pain of a vice grip.

"You can't! Please, you can still let me go!" you begged. You knew where this was going. Even without the words, the hardness pressing against you and his violent kisses eluded to what he wanted out of you.

Lightly grinding his hips into yours, Kenjaku stroked your thighs in a psuedo calming gesture.

"Don't worry pet, the process has to be at least a little pleasant for you. I'll make your cunt beg for this vessels cock," Kenjaku's fingers reached to undo your belt as he spoke.

"So are ya gonna impregnate her or kill her? If you're gonna kill her can I just transfigure her into one of my toys?" Mahito asked. The young curse had already forgotten what was mentioned about body snatching earlier, he just wanted another human to play with.

Kenjaku's hands stilled on your zipper. His eyes raising to meet yours, tear filled, cheeks stained red from being slapped. The desperation made his mouth water and cock harden painfully.

His hands tore at your jeans, instead of using the zipper. They ripped in two pieces, the tear forming at the seam and splitting cleanly with his brute force. He pushed your legs up, tearing the clothing from them. Laying the palm of his hand against your mound, he rubbed the sensitive flesh through your panties.

Kenjaku's other hand lifted again to Mahito's face before slapping the curse's cheek. The sound of an impact above your head startled you even more, as you couldn't see what he made contact with.

"If you're so bored, than leave before I make you. They're mine to 'play' with as you call it. I don't need you here for this vessel to fuck them," Kenjaku's hand soothed the cheek he slapped before returning it to your thighs. Pressing them wide open as he lowered himself to his knees.

His hands on your thighs jerked your body toward him, scratching your bare skin on the rough table under you.

You didn't know why he was being possessive, wishing you could hear the rest of the conversation. Not that it'd help, you just wanted to feel less crazy. Part of you thought this might just be an elaborate nightmare, but the large hands on your skin and the pain in your back grounded you in reality.

Kenjaku nipped at your thigh, bringing your eyes back to him. His hands leaving your thighs to pull his long hair up into a tight bun. You wished he wasn't so handsome. You hated to admit that under other circumstances you'd love to see a man this beautiful between your thighs. The only unsettling thing about his appearance the stitches on his forehead.

With his hair tied up he pushed your thighs back, the stretch of your muscle was almost unbearable.

"Hold these still too, I'll reward you if she doesn't move," Kenjaku spoke into your thigh. His seductive gaze landing somewhere above your head. You felt a similar pressure on your ankles to the ones on your arms. The force pulled your ankles to hover above your chest.

Whatever he was talking to, whatever was holding you, had to have at least four arms, maybe even five counting the grip on your hair. The thought made your head ache.

"Good boy," Kenjaku whispered, as he moved his hand to your still covered pussy.

You watched with morbid fascination and mild disgust as he moved your lace panties to the side. He slid a large finger through your folds before holding his soaked finger up to his face. Sticking the appendage in his mouth and sucking off the juices, his eyes never leaving yours.

A filthy heat wormed its way to your core and you felt yourself growing more aroused at the sight. Disgusted with yourself you tried again to wiggle away but the invisible grip kept you still.

With a smirk Kenjaku lowered his face to your wet pussy and began exploring with his tongue. You fought the urge to keep quiet, biting your lip and closing your eyes. His hot tongue sliding through your folds felt divine. It had been so long since you'd felt the touch of another.

Yet despite how good it felt he deliberately avoided licking too close to your clit. His tongue lapping up all of your arousal as it just kept flowing out of you.

Licking down further, his thick fingers spread your flesh open. Exposing your wet hold to the cold air. You shivered at how on display you felt. His tongue circled your entrance before sliding in.

A gasp left your clenched teeth at the sensation. His tongue wasn't extra long or thick, but the hot muscle licking at your walls, truly eating you out as he sucked your essence into his mouth had your legs trembling in place.

Daring to look down you opened your eyes again, noticing he was still staring back up at you. You couldn't help but grind down on his face, it felt so good and shameful at the same time.

When you pressed your hips closer to his face, his nose brushed up against your neglected clit, causing a moan to finally break through your lips. You felt his blunt nails dig into the flesh of your thighs, satisfied with your reaction

The obscene sounds of Kenjaku slurping and sucking your juices as he tongue fucked you added to how overwhelmed you were. Soft moans now spilling continuously from your lips.

He lifted his head, mouth and chin coated in your essence, licking at his own lips.

"Did you know, over one hundred years ago, men of science used to claim that you could tell how fertile a woman was based on their taste? I still don't know if it's true or just a myth used by perverted doctors," Kenjaku spoke. Again he was looking above you, obviously not speaking to you, which was a good thing as the words weren't fully processing in your mind.

Mahito seemed curios, tilting his head to the side. The gesture didn't suit his now uncanny form, two extra arms sprouting from his shoulders to keep your legs in place.

"What's it supposed to taste like?" the curse asked, not willing to say aloud that he wanted to taste.

Kenjaku lowered his mouth back to your pussy, tongue finally giving you the relief you desired by swirling it around your clit before sucking harshly at the bundle of nerves.

Your moan turned into a desperate whine as he sat up, hovering over your body, again interacting with the person you couldn't see.

Kenjaku again rested his palm on Mahito's cheek as he leaned in and kissed the curse. Mahito's mouth opened immediately, allowing Kenjaku's tongue in and swirling it with his own. Mahito sucked at the arousal coating the invading tongue.

The sight above you was so bizarre, and also unfortunately arousing. Kenjaku was obviously kissing someone, his lips pressing in and tongue moving in the air. You couldn't help but miss the feeling of him inside you. Your now empty pussy clenching around nothing.

"Please," you gasped out, still unable to use any of your limbs despite Kenjaku only having one hand on your hip.

Kenjaku used the hand resting on Mahito's cheek to push the curse away.

Both of Kenjaku's hands left you as he stepped back, taking in the sight before him. You spread open, covered in your own arousal, face flushed and covered in tears. Mahito above you and holding your still. It really was a shame you couldn't see him. At least you could still feel him.

Hands dropping to his own belt, Kenjaku stepped back up to you, rubbing the tip of his now free cock against your soaked pussy.

"I can't tell if you're begging me to stop or begging me to make your cunt cum all over this vessels cock. Which is it?" Kenjaku asked teasingly, the head of his cock rubbing against your entrance. His tone playful for the situation he'd forced upon you.

His words made you feel sick, despite the heat swirling in your guts you didn't actually want him to continue. Did you?

Your eyes widened as he started to press the head of his cock into you. You had definitely not been prepared enough for this. His tongue inside you was nothing compared to the thick cock stretching your entrance.

Thankful for his slow pace you tried to breathe steadily as he pressed into you.

"Fuck, your cunt is too tight. Can you relax for me, pet?" Kenjaku whispered. His voice measured, if not slightly strained.

His words and the hands now running up and down your pinned thighs made you want to listen to him. Every time he spoke you felt more compelled to obey, it had been that way since he first spoke to you. No matter how wrong this was, he felt so soothing.

You felt your muscles relaxing, allowing him to slip further into you. Your walls still stretching too far to accommodate his thick cock. While he hadn't fully filled you up, you felt him slide back out of you. Relief flooding your veins at him not being as big as you expected.

Kenjaku locked eyes with you, his hand guiding your face to make sure you were making eye contact. He smiled peacefully before winking at you. A sinking dread replacing the relief in your guts.

He snapped his hips forward, bottoming out far deeper in your pussy than you expected. A choked moan leaving your lips as he split you open. Instead of giving you time to adjust to his size Kenjaku set a punishing pace, slamming his hips into yours.

A chorus of shrieks and moans left your lips, unable to contain the feelings of pain and pleasure his thrusts were giving you. You were trying to stay relaxed but you couldn't help but clench at the violent intrusion. You felt your legs shake against the invisible grip holding you.

Sliding his large hand down from your face while still fucking into you, Kenjaku took hold of one of your legs. Freeing it from the grip it was in and holding it against his body. He manipulated your leg to hold you open at a different angle. Kissing at the ankle that was now in front of his face, his cock pressed even deeper inside of you.

The angle, while allowing him to go deeper also allowed him to brush up against a spot inside you that made your eyes roll back in pleasure. Your voice all moans and choked sobs as you felt your self crying again while he forced you toward orgasm.

"Can you- shut them up- Mahito?" Kenjaku asked, voice lower in pitch and strained from pleasure. While he wasn't moaning, hearing his voice quiver gave you some twisted pleasure. To know you were affecting him like this without doing anything made you not even notice his words.

You also didn't notice the smile forming on the curse above you's face, not that you could anyway.

Mahito lowered his face to yours, pausing just above you to study your face a little closer. He had never heard a human scream in pleasure before, though he guessed from your tears that it wasn't all pleasure. He loved the sounds you were making, but a command is a command.

Mahito slipped his tongue into your open mouth, sloppily kissing you. The angle was odd as is face was upside down, his nose brushing your chin. His tongue moving in your mouth with much less grace than Kenjaku's had with either of you.

Your eyes snapped open, choking on the intrusion. When you looked up you only saw Kenjaku, gripping your leg and fucking his thick cock into your spot with bruising accuracy. Whatever was kissing you must be the person holding you down, Mahito, you think you remember him say.

You tried to close your mouth, the feeling of kissing something you couldn't see unsettling. Though the sloppy movements of the eager tongue in your mouth did feel good, you felt yourself getting even wetter around Kenjaku's cock.

The feeling of the tongue in your mouth growing in size made you panic. What started as a normal muscle now filled your mouth. You could feel your spit seeping out of your mouth and mixing with your tears on your face. The kiss was too much, you couldn't breathe.

The lack of oxygen and the constant assault on your pussy ripped your orgasm from you. Pussy gushing cum around Kenjaku's cock and clenching your already tight hole around him, as if begging to be filled by his release.

The tongue in your mouth eased up into a more normal kiss as you gasped and gagged, choking on the force of your orgasm and your full mouth.

Suddenly the mouth was ripped from yours, leaving you panting and whimpering from overstimulation.

Kenjaku threaded the hand not holding your leg in Mahito's hair, yanking the curse's mouth away from you before forcing him into a bruising kiss. Kenjaku kissed Mahito with more tongue and teeth than last time. Moaning into the curse's mouth as your pussy squeezed his release out.

Kenjaku's thrusts slowing but still pushing so deep inside of you as he painted your womb and walls with his hot cum. Mahito took advantage of Kenjaku's moan by taking over the kiss, greedily sucking on his tongue again and exploring his mouth.

In your post orgasm haze you stared up at a slack-jawed Kenjaku, obviously being kissed the same way you had been. You watched him pull away slowly as his thrusts finally stopped inside of you. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his cock still buried in your pussy.

"You're lucky this was so much fun. Maybe I'll keep you around for a while as my pet until I tire of you. Unless you'd rather me keep my promise of ripping your brain out?"

#kenjaku x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #kenjaku #mahito #mahito x reader #kenjaku x mahito #kenjaku x mahito x reader #kenjaku smut #mahito smut #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #getomahi

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shipperqueen93 · 7 months

Text

Twice Upon a Dream pt 2

Yes I know this chapter took forever to get out but I had motivation problems. Hopefully the next few chapters wont take as long. In the last chapter Ruby had a conversation with Mal about Belle and Gold. In this chapter Belle and Gold finally are forced to interact. Shout out to @ishtarelisheba for beta'ing this for me because I hate commas. Also to @ripperblackstaff for the original prompt.

Fingers raking through her hair, tugging and pulling her closer. Kisses that made her head fuzzy and knees weak. Her own hands fisted in his silk shirt and worked the tie knotted at his throat. The rasp of his stubble as he kissed along the length of her throat. Finally, she got his tie undone with a noise of triumph that brought forth a chuckle from Cameron.

His voice was pure sin as whispered against her throat, “Eager, sweet Belle?”

Belle.

Belle!

“Belle!”

Belle snapped out of her daydream as an ice cube pelted her in the forehead. Wiping the water from her eyes, she glared over at Emma, who just grinned back innocently and flicked the water from her hand at her.

“Have a good dream?” Emma asked with a smirk.

She and Emma had met up at their favorite coffee cart to wait for Ruby to get out of class. The three of them were supposed to head to Granny’s for dinner, but Ruby’s class was running late. The two of them had been chatting when Emma got a call and she stepped away. Alone, Belle’s thoughts had begun to drift, and like they had many times since her dream in the library, her thoughts drifted back.

“If you must know, I was thinking about the paper I have to write for Midas. It's due Monday and I’m only half done with it.” Belle lied through her teeth and, based on Emma’s expression, her friend knew it, too.

Belle didn’t like lying, especially not to her friends, but she wasn’t going to admit that she was having yet another inappropriate dream about her professor. Emma was one of her closest friends, but that was something she was keeping to herself. She hadn’t even told Ruby about that night at the library. It was one thing to have a crush on a teacher. It was another thing completely to repeatedly envision said teacher fucking you seven ways from Sunday.

Just thinking about her dream had her face heating, but thankfully, Emma’s phone gave a chirp, drawing the blonde’s attention. Emma was just as good as Ruby, if not better, at reading people and figuring out what was on their mind. She claimed that her superpower was that she could tell when someone was lying, so all the better that she was distracted and couldn’t call Belle out on her shit.

While Emma tapped out a message to whoever had texted her, Belle glanced around the university grounds. Not far away, Ana and Will were sitting together, Ana’s head on his shoulder as she read some book. Out on the grass, Mulan was slowly going through some of her wushu forms as Aurora attempted to copy her, the two of them laughing as Aurora stumbled and fell flat on the ground. Over by the small fountain, Ariel -a classmate of Ruby’s- and a dark haired man Belle vaguely recalled seeing in the back of a few of her lit classes were awkwardly flirting. Everywhere she looked there were couples, or almost couples, just basking in each other's presence. Hell, going by the dopey smile Emma had worn earlier when her phone rang, Belle would bet that it had been from her own, secret , partner. A small, bitter, part of her now understood why villains in fairy tales wanted to destroy the happiness of the protagonistic couple. Her lack of a love life, combined with her new reoccurring daydreams, was making her as bitter as a lonely old spinster.

When her own phone chimed, it was a welcome respite from the thoughts banging around in her head. Though it seemed the universe seemed fit to laugh at her as the object of her thoughts was brought to the forefront once more.

Cameron’s name flashed across her phone screen along with his text message. “I must see you in my office. Immediately.”

A puzzled frown crossed her face as she reread the message. Cameron had barely paid her any attention since she had returned, let alone texted her. The last text she had received from him was back during her illness, when she had reached out expressing her utter boredom, and he had replied back with a simple, “Get well.” She had excused it then, as she knew he was not fond of text messaging. She hadn’t put much stock in his quiet at the time, but given how things had changed between them since, she could view it in a different light. Which made his message all the more confusing.

“Ruby said she’s on her way. She mentioned going to the Rabbit Hole tonight, and she wants to know if you are in.” Emma’s voice cut through her thoughts once more. It seemed the person she had been texting hadn’t been her own, not so secret lover, but instead Ruby.

Gesturing vaguely to her phone, Belle shook her head. “Apparently Professor Gold needs to see me. I’ll have to meet up with you at Granny’s afterwards,” Belle stated as she started gathering her things.

Emma raised an eyebrow but gave a shrug. “Tell the bastard hi from me.”

Belle rolled her eyes. She knew that Emma and Cameron had an interesting relationship, to say the least, but there was a mutual respect there. “I’m sure he’ll be so pleased.”

Emma gave an amused huff but waved her away.

The trip to Cameron’s office wasn’t long, and soon she was walking down the familiar hall. She passed Walter, one of the janitors, who gave her a sleepy wave and smile as he steered his floor scrubbing machine. When she got to Cameron’s office, she was surprised to see the door ajar, as he didn’t really keep an ‘open door’ policy. However, before she could question it much further, she heard his voice coming from down the hall in Mal’s office. Shaking her head, she let herself into the office. So much for needing to see her immediately.

Given the new dynamic of their relationship, Belle hadn’t spent much time in the office since her return, but it was clear that not much had changed. Papers were still littered over his desk, books piled on every flat surface, a cup of cold tea sat next to the keyboard just waiting to be knocked over. Habit had her taking the cup and moving it to the other side of the desk, finger tracing the familiar chip. The first time she had seen him drinking from the cup after she had broken it, she had assumed he was mocking her, but over time, she realized it was more than that. Though Cam never explained exactly what it was, it was clear the cup held some special meaning to him. She had liked to believe it was because that moment was a change in how he saw her, but given their current relationship, she was no longer sure that was the case.

“Miss French? What are you doing here?” Cam spoke from behind her.

------------

It had been a long day, and all Cameron Gold wanted to do was finish grading his papers and go home. He swore students got dumber each year - that could be the only excuse for the absolute drivel he was reading. To his great dismay, Gary Aston was taking his American Legal History class, and it was clear that lummox had used a thesaurus on every other word and hadn’t even bothered with spell check.

Cameron had been on the second of three pages when Mal had asked for his help. More accurately, she had shouted his name down the hall they shared until he cursed and made his way to her office. She sat at her desk, reading through some papers, and he could tell by the look of her that she was pissed. He sat down in the chair across from her desk, resting his hands on the top of his cane.

“What happened now, Mallory? Did Ingrid take the Espresso Swirl off the menu again?” Cameron asked, easily dodging the purple pen that was thrown his way.

“Cameron, I swear to God, I am not in the mood to deal with your bullshit. Shut up,” Mal sniped back.

She didn’t even look up at him as she reached the last page of the papers she was reading. Questioning why he put up with her antics, Cameron sat back and waited for her to get to the point of why she shouted him down.

When she seemingly finished reading the papers, she cursed and tossed them at him. “Look at this! Regina has to be out of her mind if she thinks I’m signing this.”

Ah, it was contract time again. His own contract was relatively simple, due to his tenured status. However, Mal had not reached that status yet, and her contracts tended to have more variance year to year.

Giving Mal a small smirk, he held the contract back to her, not bothering to hide the sarcasm in his tone as he spoke. “Mal, you should be reviewing this with Ingrid, not me. Plus, what would Regina think?” He ducked as a highlighter flew at his head. “You’re lucky this is better than what I was reading before.”

He spent the next thirty minutes reviewing the minutiae of her contract, which honestly was a nice break from the eye bleeding essays he had been reading. If nothing else, bantering with Mal was a distraction from his thoughts. Thoughts of a certain brunette, blue-eyed Australian who was driving him crazy.

Ever since that damned dream, he hadn’t had a moment of peace. Every time he closed his eyes, he relived it in all its vivid details. The taste of her, sweet as strawberries, how smooth her skin was, the little noises she made as she moved against him, how incredible she felt around him. All of it was driving him insane. And then he would remember that it was a dream, a highly inappropriate dream, and if Belle knew what thoughts he was having, she’d be horrified and disgusted by him. He was her professor, a mentor. At one point, he might have even considered them friends, but that was as far as it was supposed to go. There was no way she saw him as he saw her, and he wouldn’t delude himself into thinking that would change.

So he stayed away from her, or at least maintained the same distance he did with all his graduate students under his advisement. He kept to his office hours, kept their meetings to their scheduled time frames, pretended he was busy when she would stop by. He even treated Jones to lunch once to escape her. He hated it. He was miserable, and according to Mal, he was being a right bastard. The worst part? It still didn’t help.

Every night, he was plagued by dreams of brown hair, blue eyes, and an accent he couldn’t get out of his mind. He would wake up achingly hard with the phantom scent of strawberries driving him insane. Even doing everything he could to minimize their contact during his waking hours did nothing to stop his fantasies from tormenting when he slept. In his dreams, Belle wanted him, she loved him, and was as eager for him as he was for her. Clearly, his brain hadn’t gotten the memo that he was supposed to be getting over this obsession.

When he finished advising Mal - or rather, listening to her bitch about where Regina could shove her contract - he made the trek back to his office. Focusing his mind on getting through the rest of the essays he had been reviewing, he vaguely noticed Walter cursing at his floor scrubber as he passed by. When he got to his office, he was surprised to see the door open, but was shocked even more to find Belle French standing behind his desk, his chipped cup in her hands.

For a moment, he thought mind was playing tricks on him and he was imagining her there, but when the vision of her didn’t disappear, he realized she was actually there. He took a step closer, expecting the tap of his cane to draw her attention, but she never looked up, giving him the opportunity to drink her in. She looked stunning, as usual, in a lacey cream blouse that was sheer enough to be tantalizing but not unprofessional, and one of those short, floaty, black skirts she loved that made his blood pressure rise. It was all tied together with a pair of her sky high heels that made her shapely legs look impossibly long. He did note that even with them she was still shorter than him, however.

Belle wrapped her legs around his waist, locking her ankles at his back, and he sank deeper into her sweet heaven. She was so tight and wet around him. Head thrown back in ecstasy as he slid in and out of her, swallowing down her cries as he rubbed small circles around her clit.

The click of the door shutting behind him shook him out of his flashback of his dream, but Belle didn’t seem to notice, her finger still tracing over the chip in the cup.

“Miss French? What are you doing here?” he spoke, watching as she jumped slightly at his voice. Tea splashed over the edge of the cup and splattered on the essays he had been reading earlier, an improvement to many of them.

Belle cursed quietly and set the cup down. “Cam, you startled me.”

“Well, it is my office, dearie.” His tone was sharper than he intended, and he cursed himself for it, especially when he saw the way her expression closed off.

Her usually expressive face was completely devoid of emotion. It was a look he knew well. He had perfected it over years of listening to excuses and going to boring meetings Regina insisted he attend.

Belle set the cup down on the desk before walking around it to ‘her’ side and staring at him with crossed arms. “Very well, Professor Gold, what did you need me for?” she asked, her voice just as flat as her expression.

“Cam, please!” Belle begged into his ear. The needy tone, and the way she bucked her hips against his, left no question of what she wanted.

It was on the tip of his tongue to list a number of things he needed her for, starting with her joining him for dinner tonight and ending with her screaming his name as he fucked her in his bed, but he didn’t think that was what she was referring to. Matter of fact, he hadn’t a clue what she was referring to. A quick mental check of his calendar assured him he hadn’t gotten his dates mixed up. They weren’t due for another meeting until the next week.

“I’m sorry, Miss French, but you are going to have to clarify what you mean. I have no need for you,” Gold managed to get out even as his mind screamed that he was a liar.

Belle’s mask dropped a bit as confusion seemed to roll over her. “You texted me. Told me you needed to see me, and I quote, ‘immediately.’ Sound familiar?”

No, it didn’t. He hadn’t sent any messages. Belle knew better than anyone else he was not exactly a texter. “Miss French, I believe you are mistaken. Perhaps you mistook it for one of your little friends.”

The annoyed look she sent him in response would have had most men stuttering out an apology, but he was not most men. Even still, he took the chance to slip into his chair and start looking over the essays from earlier - a great excuse to avoid her eye contact. He should have known it wouldn’t be so easy to escape this conversation, so he wasn’t entirely surprised when a phone was set down on the papers he was looking over. His own name stared back at him on her phone. He was choosing to ignore the little smiley faces next to his name because he was not in the right space to ponder over that, along with their text history. “I must see you in my office. Immediately.” Despite knowing he hadn’t sent any sort of text message, it was there clear as day.

“Somehow I don’t think I mistook this, Professor Gold.”

Opening up the top drawer of his desk, Cameron pulled out his phone and brought up his own messages. Sure enough, there was nothing there. He set the phone down next to Belle’s so she could read it. “As you can see, Miss French, I’ve sent you no messages. As it was, I was talking with Professor Drago when you received your message. I didn’t even have my phone on me.”

Belle’s face scrunched up in adorable confusion, and he could tell she was trying to figure out what happened before seemingly giving up. “Well, this was a waste of my time,” she groused as she grabbed her phone.

The words were a shot to his heart. A waste of her time, that’s what seeing him had become to her. Like a wounded animal, he couldn't help but snipe back, “It’s been a pleasure for me, too, dearie. Why don’t you run along now, some of us have to actually work. We don’t get a month off because we caved to our hormones and made the wrong choice of hookups, dearie.”

The words were off his tongue before he truly thought them through, and he immediately regretted them, especially when he saw the hurt alight in her eyes. “Belle, I-”

“Save it. I’m leaving before you can say something else monumentally stupid.”

To anyone else, her voice may have sounded calm, but he could hear the slight tremor in it that belied her anger. She was stalking to the door before he could grab his cane. By the time he made it to his feet to go after her, she was at the door. He didn’t relish the idea of chasing her through the halls, but he’d do it to apologize or whatever it took to erase that hurt. Her name was on the tip of tongue again, ready to beg her to stop and listen, when she tried to open the door and it didn’t budge.

------------

“He’s an asshole.” A voice in Belle’s head screamed at Cameron’s cruel words.

Bad choice of hookups. Had anyone else said such a thing, she’d have accused them of being jealous, but she knew Cameron. He wasn’t some childish schoolboy who got jealous over who she may, or may not, have possibly hooked up with. Given his treatment of her over the last few months, she was beginning to doubt if he cared about her at all.

There were so many things she wanted to say in response to that piece of stupidity, but she was not going to let her anger do the talking. So she did what any reasonable person would do - run away. She heard Cameron get up to follow her, and for once, she was grateful for his bad ankle because she was sure she could outpace him. The universe, however, decided to laugh at her, because when she tried to push open the door, it wouldn’t open. She put her weight against the door, but even then, it barely cracked open.

“Professor Gold? Is that you?” a from outside the door questioned. The sentence was punctuated by stifled yawn, confirming the voice as Walter.

She could feel Gold still looming over her shoulder, his gaze burning into her, but chose to ignore him. “Walter, it’s Belle. The door won't open. What’s happening?” she asked through the door.

There was a small pause before Walter spoke again, a nervous tremor entering his voice. “Belle? Oh, no. Is, uhm, is Professor Gold in there too?”

“Well, it is my office, dearie,” Gold snarked from behind her.

She was glad her back was turned to him because, even though she was still annoyed with him, she couldn’t help the small quirk of her lips. Mentally giving herself a shake, she focused on the problem at hand. “Yes, Walter, Professor Gold is here, too. What’s going on? Why won't the door open?”

“The floor scrubber broke down and it’s too heavy to move by myself. I’ve called for Marco to come take a look at this, but unfortunately it might be a while before he gets here,” Walter said, causing Belle to drop her head against the door with a sigh.

“And, pray tell, dearie, how long is ‘a while’?” Gold asked. The annoyance was clear in his voice, though she wasn’t sure if it was at Walter for being the bearer of bad news, or the fact he was stuck here with her.

She could hear Walter stifle another yawn before he spoke, something that was definitely not helping his case with Gold. “Uh, an hour? Maybe two? Marco wasn’t clear.”

There was a nervous tone to Walter's voice, which wasn’t unexpected for most people when giving bad news to Cameron. But hidden underneath that, there was something else, something Belle couldn’t quite place.

“So let me get this straight. The two of us are stuck in here until Marco shows up and can hopefully fix your machine?” Gold asked, still a loitering presence behind her.

“...Yes.”

Belle could feel a headache coming on, and she was really regretting not going straight home after her last class. “Thank you, Walter. Let us know of any updates. Please?”

When she got confirmation from Walter, she let the reality of the moment sink in.

She was trapped in a room with Cameron Gold.

For a second, her heart stuttered with thought of being trapped anywhere, her claustrophobia triggering, and she had to take several breaths to calm herself. She reminded herself that she had been in this room hundreds of times, that, even with the current chaos in their relationship, Cameron would never hurt her, and that it was just for a few hours. Still, it took a conscious effort to relax her body and keep the nervous tremors to just her hands. When she was sure she wasn’t going to freak out, she straightened up and turned to face her next issue.

Cameron was closer than she expected, close enough she could smell his cologne. The scent of sandalwood transported her back to her dream from weeks ago, and now she was fighting back the flush that wanted to rise up. He was saying something to her, but she didn’t hear it - her brain was transposing the dream to reality.

“You are full of surprises, dearie.” Lips crashing together, hands tugging at hair, desperate to be closer.

Cameron tilted his head and said something to her again, concern flickering across his face.

“Should I stop, Miss French?” Words spoken against the curve of her neck, seeking out the spots that made her cry out.

A hand on her shoulder and more words spoken.

“You left me for a month, and for that I’m going to make you scream, little Belle.” A promise spoken as he drove her closer to that edge but refused to let her reach.

A month gone, a month without seeing him, a month without talking to each other. Concern in his eyes, a shake to her shoulder.

“Some of us have to actually work. We don’t get a month off because we made the wrong choice of hookups, dearie.” Anger in his voice, disdain dripping from his words.

She stepped back from the hand on her shoulder, letting the dreams fall away and focusing on reality. What was said in her dreams were just that, dreams, but what Cameron had implied about her was real. Taking another step back, she hit the door, but there was now enough space between them that she could think straight, at least.

Slowly, he pulled his hand back, settling both on the handle of his cane, adopting a blank face. “Belle, are you okay? You spaced off there for a second.”

“I’m fine,” she lied.

She wasn’t fine. She was far from fine at this point. She was annoyed by his earlier comment, the insinuation that came with it, and more annoyed because despite that, she still wanted him.

“Miss French, I’m sor-” Gold started to apologize but Belle held up a hand to silence him.

She wasn’t ready to hear his apology because she wanted to be mad at him. Because that was the correct response when someone suggests that you chose to sleep around rather than work or attend school. She knew herself, if he apologized she would forgive him, because she knew Cameron Gold. She knew that he hadn’t meant what he said, or what was implied by it. It was easier to not accept his apology, to ignore the regret in his eyes, and stay angry, because the other option was to accept the apology and know that the man she loved had said it.

Stepping around him, she bypassed her usual seat and took up residence in one of the two comfortable leather chairs on the opposite end of the office from his desk. There was a small table set up between the two chairs. In the past, it was used when they decided to take their tea here rather than at his desk. Those were the times where they would get lost in discussion and Belle would realize she had spent hours here simply talking with him.

Pushing those thoughts from her mind, she pulled her laptop from her bag and set it up on the table. Since she was stuck here, she might as well get some work done. While she didn’t actually have a paper to write for Midas, she did have some research she wanted to get done before her next class. From the corner of her eye, she could see Gold still standing by the door, position unchanged, for a moment before he went to his desk.

For the next hour, they both worked in silence, something familiar but new at the same time. She had spent many hours in this office in silence with Cameron in the past, her working on a paper or reading a book while he did his own work. In the past, though, it had always been a comfortable silence. This was a silence filled with words unspoken.

She hated that their relationship had come to this, where they couldn’t even be in the same room without this awkwardness, but she didn’t know how to address it, either. How do you apologize for being a complete mess around your teacher because you can’t help picturing him bending you over his desk, without sounding like a complete creep? Yeah, she’d be keeping that particular apology to herself.

At some point, Gold brought over a cup of tea, leaving it silently on the table before going back to his desk. When she took a sip, she was pleased to find it was the white tea she preferred instead of the oolong he usually made for himself. He had previously kept some on hand when she was a frequent visitor, and she was glad he hadn’t gone as far as to get rid of it because of their tiff. The fact it was made exactly to her taste wasn’t lost on her, either. The duality of man endured.

Despite the tense atmosphere, Belle still managed to get a good amount of work done on her research. Trouble came when she needed to cite a specific point from a book she had read, but when she searched her bag, she realized she didn’t have the book on hand. She knew she could technically leave it and come back to it later, but she wanted to move on. Luckily, she knew that Gold had the same copy of the book as she did. After all, she had given it to him. The real trouble would be finding where he put it.

She knew that there was a method to his madness, and while she probably knew his system better than most people, she hadn’t the slightest clue where he would have stashed it. Could she ask where it was? Absolutely. Was she going to? Well, that would ruin the quiet peace they had settled into and, if she really wanted to be honest with herself, she wasn’t quite sure she was ready to talk to him. She wasn’t upset anymore, but she also didn’t know what to make of his earlier statement.

When she moved to the nearest bookshelf, she caught the slight movement of his head as he tracked her from the other side of the room. She moved shelf to shelf, fingers trailing over spines as she went. There were a few new books that had been added in her absence and she made note to look into them on her own time.

As she got closer to his desk, Gold seemed to give up all pretense of whatever work he had been doing and was outright watching her. When she bent down to look at one of the lower shelves, she heard his slight intake.

“What do you want, sweet Belle?”

“Miss French, what are you looking for?” Cameron’s voice sounded from behind her and she wasn’t sure if the strain in his voice was real or her mind playing tricks on her again.

“A book,” she replied without looking back at him.

“Yes, I gathered as much. Care to say which one?” Cameron asked. He was closer than before, and she knew if she looked over her shoulder, he’d be towering over her.

Belle slowly stood back up and turned around. She had been right - he was closer than she expected, and even with her heels, he still had a couple inches on her. Meeting his eyes, she responded back simply, “No.”

Seeming to realize how close he was to her, Gold tried to step back but hit his desk and something flickered in his expression before smoothing out. When he spoke, his voice was calm as ever. “Really, Miss French?”

Belle took another step closer - they were nearly chest to chest now - and raised an eyebrow in a challenge. “Really, Professor Gold.”

It took all her will power to remain calm and collected, but this was just as much a test for her as it was for him. Cameron Gold thrived on making people uncomfortable with his presence. She wanted to see how he did on the other end of it.

His eyes flickered to her lips. For one heart stopping second, she thought he might actually breach that distance between them like he did in her dreams.

Then the second was over and the mask of Professor Cameron Gold slid back into place. “Really, dearie, your stubbornness is admirable, but I’d have thought you’d spend your time more wisely. You’ve lost enough of it already.”

“Really, dearie, I’d think you’d show some more commitment.”

“We don’t get a month off because we caved to our hormones and made the wrong choice of hookups, dearie.”

Dream and reality intertwined again, two Golds flashing through her mind, both wearing the same smug smile. That same implication being thrown at her. He was going to be the death of her. She didn’t know if she wanted to yell at him or strangle him. So she chose the third option.

She kissed him.

------------

Being trapped in a room alone with Belle was a special kind of torture, so when that subtle hint of strawberries that he so heavily associated with her drifted to him, he couldn’t help but look up. With her back turned and attention diverted, he allowed himself the brief opportunity to look his fill of her. When she bent over to look at one of the lower shelves, he barely contained the gasp as her skirt was pulled taut, giving him a view of her rear end that would be playing in his dreams for many nights to come. She was going to be the death of him.

He forced himself to speak to her, telling himself that the sooner she found the book she was looking for, the sooner he regained his sanity. Her mere presence was setting him on edge. Like before, he hadn’t meant for his words to be so sharp, but her proximity was maddening. He hadn’t realized they were so close, just a few scant inches between them, until he tried to step back and came into contact with his desk. She wetted her lips, seemingly unconscious of motion, drawing his gaze to her mouth.

She was just inches away from him, pink rosebud lips twisted up in a small smile. Dear God, she was going to kill him. “Do we have a deal, Cam? ”

He wasn’t even really sure of what he said to her - something snarky to push her away, he was sure. Her eyes sparkled with blue fire, her face flushed with anger, her hands twitching at her side like she was holding back from slapping him. She had never been so beautiful, and she was rightfully pissed off at him. So when she reached for him, he expected a slap. What he didn’t expect was to be pulled in by his suit jacket and to be kissed senseless.

Senseless was the perfect word to describe him, because he wasn’t sure what was happening and how he’d ended up here. He had to be dreaming. He must have nodded off at his desk and this was just another dream where he’d wake up alone and unsatisfied. There was no way that this was real and Belle, beautiful, wonderful, Belle French was kissing him, but even though he knew it had to be a dream, he was weak.

His hands sunk into her hair, holding on to her as tight as she held him, and caved to the pressure of her lips. He swallowed the little gasp she loosed when he nipped at her lower lip, then soothed the hurt over. Her arms wrapped around his neck, her fingers tangling in his own hair, as she pressed closer to him. The edge of his desk was digging into his back, but he ignored it. Even in his dreams, he never got tired of kissing her, the little noises she made when he deepened the kiss, the way she gripped at his hair sending little sparks of pleasure through him. He couldn’t get enough. He needed more.

Cameron spun them around so that he could sit her on the desk, or at least he attempted to. Belle’s squeak of surprise was covered by his own gasp of pain as sharp pain shot through his bad ankle when he reversed their positions. As the joint threatened to give out on him, he found himself leaning against the desk, caging her in. Cursing himself, he let his head drop to crook of her neck, placing an open mouth kiss to the skin there.

“Some dream,” he murmured against her.

Belle’s hands, which had slipped under his suit jacket at some point, froze at the buttons of his waistcoat. “Dream?”

Cameron hummed in assent against her throat, nipping at the skin there, determined to leave a mark. He protested when he felt her pushing at his chest, forcing him to take a step back. The action sent another twinge of pain through his ankle, and that combined with the confused look on Belle’s face finally had things sinking in. He had been dreaming of Belle for months now and never had his ankle ever caused him trouble. He’d had her six ways from Sunday, against every fixture in his office, and across his home, and not once had he felt the slightest twinge of pain. In his dreams, he was almost what she deserved, whole, unburdened by his defects.

Shock transformed into dread as he took another step back from Belle. She was still looking at him with that look of confusion. “Sweetheart. Belle. Miss French!” He stumbled over his words, his normally golden tongue turned to lead. “I’m so sorry. Please forgive me. I never meant to make you uncomfortable.”

“You dreamt of me?” Belle asked, tracing the spot on her neck that he had nipped at.

There was definitely going to be a mark. His previous desire to mark her had turned to guilt, which curdled in his stomach. Regina was finally going to get her excuse to get rid of him and he had no one to blame but himself. He had assaulted a student because he couldn’t differentiate between dream and reality.

“Miss French. I offer no excuses for my behavior. It was uncalled for and inapp-”

“Did you dream of me?” Belle cut him off. The look of confusion had been replaced by something akin to shock.

He could lie. He probably should lie. Claim insanity, lack of sleep, illness, anything to save his skin. But he couldn’t do that. He could deny her nothing, not even now when every word he said would damn him. “That I did does not excuse my actions.” Accepting his fate, he continued, “You do not need to trouble yourself, Miss French. I am going to go straight to Dean Mills -”

Belle cut him off once again, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Cameron loosed a humorless laugh. “Because, despite my actions tonight, I have no desire to lose my job.”

She paced past him towards where she had been sitting before, wrapping her arms around herself, looking almost fragile. “So you chose your job over me.”

“Over you? What do you…” He trailed off at the look on Belle’s face. Suddenly, things started to click in his head. Belle had kissed him. She had pulled closer. She had been the one who had been at work at his clothes. Yes, he had kissed her back, but she had initiated it. She hadn’t pulled away or tried to stop him. She had responded back enthusiastically. “You’re not upset?”

It was Belle’s turn huff out a laugh. “Oh, I’m upset. You wanted me, but rather than tell me and let me make a decision on it, you pushed me away. That’s why you did it, right? Why you’ve been pushing me away? Why you’ve been such a prick?”

“I couldn’t tell you! You’re a student, Belle! It’s inappropriate and nothing could ever come from it. Not to mention, there was never even the slightest indication that my thoughts, my feelings, would be reciprocated.”

Belle looked at him like she wanted to strangle him - a look he was more accustomed to seeing from Mal or Regina. “No indication? Cameron, I was here every single day. I spent hours with you here! You were the first person I came to when I thought I was going to have to leave school. Even Ruby figured it out! You’re taking the coward’s response, claiming that you didn’t know, that you feared for your job. It wasn’t that there were no indications, you just didn’t think I could want you.”

Years of practice keeping a neutral expression was the only thing preventing him from physically recoiling at her words. Because she was right. If he looked back on their relationship over the last few years, it really was obvious. Little touches and looks shared between them now had more meaning and depth. She was also right that instead of acknowledging what was now clear, he had run, because even with her own admittance of her feelings, he still found it hard to believe. It was much easier to believe that she could never want him.

“You didn’t say anything, either. Instead, you went away!” His words were harsh, an accusation more than a statement.

Belle’s brows furrowed in confusion before understanding. “I didn’t ‘go away,’ I got sick!”

“Yes, I know. You were sick .” He watched the implication of his words hit her. She had gotten mono, and he knew how that was spread. She might have had feelings for him, but that hadn’t stopped her from kissing someone else.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me. Are you serious, Cameron?” She questioned him, her tone both annoyed and exasperated. “I’m not having a conversation like this. When you get your head out of your ass, we can talk.” She turned her back to him, crossing the distance to her chair and started gathering her stuff back in her bag.

Anger sparked in him, anger based out of shame because she was right to dismiss him like this. He should let her try to leave and put this whole thing out of his mind, preferably utilizing the bottle of whiskey in the bottom drawer of his desk. He didn’t, though. He limped after her, crowding her space again.

“Unfortunately for you, we are still stuck here together, dearie.” Cameron watched as Belle straightened at his words, her hands twitching at her side.

“Don’t call me that, Cameron.” Her request was quiet, a change from their earlier raised voices.

He smiled a shark's grin at her back, and like a shark, he could scent blood in the water. A good man wouldn’t go after a weakness like this, but he never claimed to be a good man. He was already crowding her space, but he leaned in even closer, to whisper in ear, “And why not, dearie?”

Belle spun around to face him, that blue fire from earlier sparking once more in her eyes. He wasn’t so blind that he couldn’t see the similarities to their encounter just minutes ago. Belle’s hands were clenched at her side, a slight tremor to them, but she looked at him like she couldn’t decide if she wanted to slap him or pull him close. The room was silent with only the sound of their breathing, each waiting for the other to break. In the end, he was the weak one, but then he always knew he was. All it took was her tongue coming out to wet her lips and he crumbled.

Cupping her face in his hands, he pulled her to him, eliminating the small distance between them, and kissed her hard. There was no hesitation in Belle’s response, her hands gripping his shoulders. The kiss was rough, a clashing of teeth and tongues. She sucked at his bottom lip, tugging at it with her teeth, drawing a low groan from him. The reality of kissing Belle was better than any dream he’d ever had. In his dreams, she always tasted of strawberries and sweetness, but kissing Belle now, he could taste the tea he had given her earlier, sweet but with an underlying astringent tartness that was uniquely Belle.

She was the one who broke away first, kissing along his jaw, making his head drop back, her name released with moan. His hands came to grip her waist, pulling her flush against him. Her shirt had come untucked from her skirt and he traced the sliver of skin that had been revealed, feeling her shiver under his hands.

She sucked at a spot just below his ear and, with her pressed up against him, he knew she could feel him hard against her belly. When she bit down at that same spot, he swore, and he felt her smile against him. When she started shoving at this suit jacket, he let her go long enough to shuck it off, and when she started on the buttons of his waistcoat, he removed it, too.

With that barrier gone, he dipped his head to kiss her again, probing her mouth, finding again those spots that made her gasp and squirm against him. When he cupped her breasts, thumbs stroking over the material of her blouse and bra, her nails bit into him through the silk of his shirt. He wanted to feel them in his skin, scoring his back as he brought her pleasure again and again. He could feel the hardened points of her nipples through her shirt and it was too many layers for him.

He wanted to feel her skin against his.

He went to work at the tiny pearl buttons of her blouse but found himself fumbling as Belle ducked her head to kiss the dip of his collar bone, teeth tugging at the skin. He wasn’t sure when she had gotten rid of his tie or undone the first few buttons of his shirt, but he couldn't find it in him to care. When she nipped at him at the same time as she scraped her nails over his nipples, he damn near lost his mind.

Gripping her blouse on either side, he ripped it open, buttons popping off and skittering across the floor, drawing a surprised squeak from Belle as he pushed it from her shoulders. Underneath, she was wearing a dark blue lace bra, a delicious contrast to her pale skin, and for a moment, he was speechless as he took in the sight of her. Her hair was mussed by his hands, her lips shiny and swollen from his kisses. The mark he left on her neck was darkening to a bruise that anyone would be able to see, and her breasts, pushed up by her bra, were the perfect size for his hands. She was perfect. He traced a finger along the cup of her bra, just barely letting his nail scrape across skin that was as soft as silk.

“So damn gorgeous.” Bending his head, he ran the flat of his tongue over her nipple through the lace of her bra, murmuring against her skin, “God, I want you. I want you so much. I want to feel you around my fingers, I want to taste you on my tongue, I want to feel the way you grip my cock as I slide deep into you. I want to hear you scream my name as I make you come again and again.”

He could feel Belle’s breath hitch in her chest at his words, her hands gripping his shoulders. There was a slight tremor to her hands and he pulled back to look at her. “Tell me to stop, Belle. Tell me to stop and we can forget this ever happened. I’ll go to Dean Mills. I’ll quit and you won't have to see me. Tell me to stop and I’ll never bother you again. Tell me to stop.”

Belle stared at him, and for a second he thought she was going to do it, but then she was pushing him back until his legs hit the chair she had been sitting in earlier. He fell into the chair and watched in awe as Belle shucked off her shirt and bra before climbing into his lap. God, she was going to be the death of him.

------------

Belle knew this wasn’t a good idea, but she couldn’t care at the moment. She didn’t know what she had expected when she had kissed Cameron, but ending up topless and in his lap with his confession that he wanted her still ringing in her ears had not been it. The fact that he had purposely pushed her away because of those feelings and his comment about her ‘going away’ infuriated her, but she wasn’t focusing on that. She’d be mad at him later.

Cameron’s hands bracketed her waist before tracing up to cup her breasts, thumbs brushing over her sensitive nipples. He looked at her with a wicked glint in his eye before bending his head to kiss his way down her chest. When he reached her nipple, he used his tongue to trace around the hardened bud before sucking at it. Her hands found their way into his hair again. It was even softer than she had imagined, holding his head to her breast. The combination of the wet heat of his mouth and his fingers mimicking the motion on her other breast had her mind going fuzzy. When he used his teeth to tug at her nipple, she had to bite her lip to silence the moan that burst forth.

Using her grip on his hair, she drew his mouth back to hers, parting his lips and sliding in to taste him. God, the man could kiss, and the brief thought of what else he could do with that tongue had her arousal skyrocketing. She pulled away and his eyes met hers, his pupils blown wide with lust.

She kissed her way down his neck, tasting the salt of his skin and feeling his pulse pound beneath her lips and tongue. When she bit down lightly at the juncture of his neck, his head fell back against the chair and his hands gripped her thighs. She ran her tongue over the bite, tempted to leave a mark to match the one he had given her, but decided against it.

She nipped at the triangle of skin she had uncovered earlier, enjoying the rumbling groan he loosed. She worked on unbuttoning his shirt, revealing more of that smooth, tanned skin, exploring the contours of his chest with lips and tongue. When she scraped her teeth over his nipple, payback for his own actions, he hissed and his grip tightened on her thighs. She was definitely going to have bruises tomorrow, but at the moment, she didn't care. She wanted to see him lose the composure he held so tightly to.

Belle swirled her tongue around the bud at the same time as she started rocking her hips against him. She could feel him hard and thick beneath her, and when she rubbed herself against him, he groaned out her name. Even through the layers of their clothes, she could feel the heat of him, and she ached for him to be inside of her. She had been keyed up from the first kiss and she knew she was making a mess of his pants and, if she was honest, she liked the thought of it.

She kept up the slow rock of her hips against his as she trailed kisses up his chest and neck. The roughness of his pants combined with how wet she was provided a delicious friction that was driving her closer and closer to that peak. Each movement of her hips forced the hard length of him bumping against her clit, sending sparks of pleasure through her.

Cameron was practically panting beneath her, head thrown back against chair and watching her through heavy lidded eyes. His hands moved slowly along her thighs. His fingers teased just under the hem of her skirt where it had risen up on her thighs when she straddled him. She knew the light teasing touch was his own way of torturing her, and damn if it wasn’t working. He was so close to where she wanted him, but he refused to take that final step. When his thumbs brushed over her inner thighs, just inches from where she was wet and aching, it was her time to suck in a gasp. She knew he could feel how wet she was, but still he didn’t press forward. He was going to be the death of her. The bastard.

Well, two could play that game.

Belle placed an open mouth kiss just below his ear at the same time she ground down on him. The noise he let out sounded suspiciously like a whimper.

“Sweetheart, you’re killing me”

She smiled and nipped at the same spot, drawing out another whimper. When she spoke, she let her lips brush against the shell of his ear, feeling him shudder beneath her. “Is this what you dreamt of, Cameron? Fucking me right here in your office?”

“Belle, please.”

Belle was always going to remember this moment, the illustrious Cameron Gold completely at her mercy. At her mercy and begging, begging for her put him out of his misery. But she wasn’t quite done yet. She nipped at his earlobe, drawing another groan from him.

“I dreamt of you, too. I’ve dreamt of you bending me over your desk and fucking me til I screamed your name. I’ve dreamt of getting on my knees and taking you in my mouth until you explode. I’ve spent so many nights aching for your touch, left with nothing but the empty satisfaction of my own fingers.”

She felt Cameron’s thumb just barely brush the lace edge of her panties and she knew she had him. She placed a kiss to that spot right under his ear again as she took his hand and brought him fully between her legs. “Don’t make me suffer that again.”

Like when she kissed him before, there was only a moment of hesitation before he broke. His fingers pushed aside the silk and finally he was touching her. Dear God, he was going to be the death of her.

------------

He was touching her. Belle French was in his lap and was begging for him to touch her. He was a weak man. A better man would have stopped this before they had gotten to this point, but he had never claimed to be a good man. So when she brought his hand between her legs, he didn’t hesitate to push the soaked material of her panties and touch the slick flesh beneath. She was incredibly soft and wet and made the most delicious little noises as he stroked through her folds. He wanted to memorize every noise and shudder as he learned how to drive her insane.

When he pushed a finger into her, they both released a loud groan at the feeling. She was so fucking tight and wet, feeling like wet silk gripping him, and he could only imagine how she’d feel wrapped around his cock as he fucked her. When he added a second finger, Belle let out a cry loud enough to remind him that while they were essentially locked in, his office was in no way soundproof, and it would not be hard to figure out exactly what was happening in here.

Capturing her mouth, he swallowed down her cries as he curled his fingers inside her and used his thumb to circle the hard bud of her clit. His tongue stroked over hers, his arm wrapping around her waist to hold her close as she started to work herself on his hand. He could tell she was getting close, sweat beading on her upper lip and the muscles of her thighs twitching as she rocked against him. He needed to see her come, needed to see her reach that pinnacle of pleasure and know it was because of him. He cupped her breast, plucking at her nipple in time with the rhythm of fingers.

Belle came with a muffled cry, her teeth sinking into his lip, her juices soaking his fingers as he kept his fingers moving, drawing out her pleasure. She broke the kiss as she gasped for breath, her cheeks flushed from her orgasm and chest heaving invitingly. Slowly he withdrew his fingers from her slick heat, holding her gaze as he slid both into his mouth. God, she tasted delicious. He wanted more of her, he wanted to spread her out on his dining room table and feast on her. Drink her down until her voice was hoarse from screaming his name. He was addicted to her and was happy to drown in her.

Gold was painfully hard at this point and ached to be inside her. Belle must have felt the same way, because after only a moment to breathe, both of them were scrambling to get his belt and pants undone. No sooner did Belle get the zipper down than she reached in and released his cock. The first touch of her hand on him had him throwing his head back with a garbled groan. He watched from hooded eyes as she started stroking him base to tip, and it took all his willpower to not spill himself in her hand like some green youth.

“Sweetheart, if you don’t stop, we’re both going to be disappointed.”

The small quirk of Belle’s mouth was all the warning he got before she swept her thumb over the head of him, spreading the bead of moisture she found there.

“Minx!” he growled, grabbing her around the waist to pull her in for another kiss. The result ended up putting her heat in direct contact with his cock, and the kiss turned into a groan from both of them.

“Belle, please. I need to feel you. Please, sweetheart.” Cameron Gold was a proud man, he had fought his way up from the bottom, never asking for anything, taking what he had earned. Then in came Belle French and he was reduced to begging for her touch, and yet he didn’t regret a single thing beyond the fact it took so long for them to get here.

Belle leaned over the edge of the chair for a moment, giving him a lovely view of her rear end, coming back up holding a condom between her fingers. There was a flash of a prickly feeling that could only be categorized as jealousy as he wondered who she had originally planned to use it with. He wondered if it was the same person who gave her mono, but before he could say something stupid, Belle was rolling the condom over him and all thoughts beyond needing to be in her left his mind. She was going to be the death of him.

Had someone told her this morning that she’d be straddling her professor, his cock in her hand, after the best orgasm she’d ever had, Belle would have called them insane. Then she’d have made sure that her dream journal hadn’t been found. But as she rose above him, running the head of him through her folds, she couldn’t help thinking this is exactly where they were meant to be. Cameron was looking up at her, his face a picture of pure adoration, and damn if that didn’t make her feel powerful.

With him poised at her entrance, she hesitated for just a second. “There’s no going back from this, Cameron.”

Things were irrevocably changed for them regardless at this point, but if they broke past this final hurdle, things could never go back to where they were. She had claimed earlier he had chosen his job and his position over a chance of happiness with her, and she was offering him the chance now to choose what he really wanted. If he told her to leave, she would be heartbroken, but she would leave and never bother him again. If he told her to stay, she didn’t know what the future would have in store for them, but they would face it together, at least.

Cameron’s hands had returned to her thighs, and from the way he gripped her, she knew it was taking all his power to not thrust up into her. “Please, Belle.” His voice had deepened to the rough burr she had imagined in her dreams so many times.

“I need you to say it, Cameron. I need you to say it so I know this is happening. I need to know this is real and I’m not going to wake up alone again.”

Something flashed in his eyes for a second, but it was gone again in a blink. His hands moved from her hips to cup her face, the scent of her arousal still lingering on his fingers. He pressed a kiss to her lips that was so gentle in comparison to the words he uttered next. “I want to fuck you, Belle. I want to fuck you so much it hurts. I want you hard and fast, and I want to take my time with you until you are begging for release. I want to leave you sated and sore, so that you remember me with every step you take. I want you every single way I can have you, but most of all? I just want you.”

Cam’s words washed over her, and with a smile, she sank down on him. She gasped and he swore at the first feel of him pressing into her. She told herself not to rush it, to take her time, because she didn’t know what the future held in store for them and she wanted this to last. That thought went out the door the second he was fully sheathed in her. The feel of him, hard and thick in her felt amazing, and she wondered how in the hell they had gone three years without this.

Belle rocked against him, enjoying the way he cursed and gripped her hips, drawing her back down onto him again. His hips thrust up to meet hers, and soon the room was filled with the sound of skin meeting skin and their stifled moans.

She truly meant to go slow, to draw it out until they were both aching for release, but then Cameron hooked his arm around her waist, drawing her closer. The change of angle had him hitting some place inside her that made her see stars. He felt so fucking good inside her, the combination of the thick, hard length of him and the friction from the coarse hair of his groin against her clit as she ground down against him had quickly had her climax approaching.

“Cam…” Belle didn’t know what she was begging for, but he seemed to understand her, regardless. The hand not around her came back to her breast, cupping and squeezing her, while his mouth sought her again. Her own hands clutched at his shoulders, nails biting into the skin as she used him for leverage.

Too soon, she felt that familiar rising ecstasy, and she could tell Cameron was close, too, his cock growing harder within her. Their bodies were slick with sweat, their breaths coming in gasps and pants. Cam kissed along her chest and up her neck, nipping at the mark he had made, her name a muffled mantra as he thrust up into her. She was so close and she wanted to let go, to tip over that knife point of pleasure and bring him with her.

“Come for me, sweetheart. You’re so beautiful when you come. Come for me, Belle. Let me feel you come around my cock.” Cam’s voice was pure sin, straight from her dreams, his thickened accent making his words come out as a near growl. The words spoken in her ear, lips teasing the shell of her ear, in combination with his hand and hips moving in tandem were just what was needed to push her over the edge.

She bit down on the juncture of Cameron’s neck and shoulder to muffle her cry as she came. Cameron’s answering curse was not nearly as silent as she felt him pulsing inside her as he found his own release.

Belle’s head dropped to Cam’s shoulder as she tried to catch her breath. She felt Cam kiss her head and she smiled against him. This was definitely not what she had expected from this meeting, but she wasn’t going to complain. Maybe now things could finally go back to normal.

------------

Cameron Gold was sure he was dreaming, because he had a lapful of Belle French, who had admitted she had wanted him. He knew there were things they needed to talk about, but all he could focus on was the soft press of her body against his. She was snuggled into his chest, her head resting on his shoulder, and he couldn’t help but press a kiss to her head. He breathed in the scent of her, that ever present scent of strawberries now mixed with the scent of his cologne. If this was a dream, he didn’t want to wake up.

Reality apparently had a different plan, however.

Belle pulled back so she could look at him and gave him a small smile. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he repeated back. He cupped her cheek, thumb brushing over the silky smooth skin, pulling her down to brush his lips again against hers.

“Professor Gold, I’ve got the machine working. You should be free in just a moment!” The heavy Italian accent of Marco Albero, the college’s head of maintenance, was like a bucket of cold water over him. The sound of movement on the other side of the door was an extra shot of ice down his spine.

Belle pulled back with a surprised squeak and quickly scrambled out of his lap, and he had just enough sense of mind to hold the base of the condom as he slipped from her. Belle was a flurry of motion, smoothing down her skirt and righting her bra before he had truly processed what was happening.

Gold knew that if the door was opened and anyone saw their disheveled forms, they could both be in trouble. There was no way anyone could look at him sitting there, shirt undone and cock out, and then at Belle, shirtless and covered in marks from his hands and mouth, and not infer what had happened here.

Logically, he knew that if found out, there could be severe repercussions for both of them. He was not only her teacher but technically her boss, too. Regina hated him enough as it was. This would be all the ammunition she needed to finally send him packing. Not to mention what it would do to Belle’s academic career. He knew this all logically. However, all he could see was the fear on Belle’s face at the thought of being caught with him.

“Get dressed! They can’t see us like this!” Belle hissed at him as she picked up her shirt from where he had tossed it to the floor.

Fifty years of self loathing came whispering in his ear. She was embarrassed to be seen with him. Desiring someone was one thing, wanting to be with them was another. Anger and shame roiled in his gut, banishing all traces of the happiness he was feeling before.

He righted his pants, tucking himself away and limping over to the trash can to dispose of the condom. Belle was looking at her shirt, but the majority of the buttons were scattered across his floor. He took up his cane from where he had set it before this had all gone down and went to the wooden storage cabinet. He kept a spare shirt and suit pants inside, and he took out the shirt and tossed it to Belle.

“Here. To cover your shame.” His words came out icy and sharp, drawing a glare from Belle.

“And what exactly is that supposed to mean?” Belle pulled the shirt on, only buttoning it halfway down before tying the ends in a knot, baring a small slice of her midriff. The dark blue of the shirt gave her pale skin an almost luminous glow.

Gold refused to meet her eyes, another act of cowardice on his part, and focused on buttoning up his own shirt. “Well, you’ve had your fun. You can run along home to whoever it is that keeps you warm at night. I trust you’ll want to keep your indiscretion quiet, after all”

Belle took a step back like he had struck her, and his stomach churned at the hurt look that crossed her face before it was replaced with fury. “Are you serious, Cameron?”

“Don’t worry, dearie, you won't have to worry about any more absences due to me. But maybe given your own history, perhaps I should be the one concerned.” He gave her a cold look, putting as much venom as he could into it. “Should I perhaps get tested?”

He was angry, he was hurt, but mostly he felt used. He had never expected her to want him, but when she had kissed him he briefly thought she did. For a brief moment, he thought she had felt the same way he did. But it seemed he was no more than a way to scratch an itch. So he did what he always did, he lashed out. Pushing away those he loved.

Belle was shaking with anger and a tiny part of him was glad. “You are a bastard.”

“I never claimed to be otherwise, dearie,” he hissed back at her.

The air was thick with tension, both of them glaring at each other. He could see Belle’s clenching and unclenching her hands and he wondered if she was going to slap him. He’d deserve it for sure. Both of them waited for the other to say something else, to completely shatter what was left of this relationship.

“There we go! All fixed.” Marco’s voice shattered the silence as the office door swung open.

There was a moment of awkward silence as he seemed to pick up the tension between them, but then Belle spun on her heel and flashed him one of her winning smiles.

“Thank you so much, Marco!” She went over and kissed the older man on his whiskery cheek, causing him to blush. “You’re just in time. I have got a date to get to.”

Gold gripped the cane hard enough that his knuckles turned white but managed to keep a neutral face. “Well, we’d hate for you to be late, Miss French. Please run along.”

Belle gave him one more hard look before she flounced out of the room. Marco mumbled something about the boiler room and quickly scuttled away, leaving Gold alone once more.

Once he could no longer hear Marco’s steady footsteps, he went over to where Belle had dropped her shirt when she had put on his. The ivory lace was soft to his touch, but not nearly as soft as her skin had felt under his hands and lips. He sat back at his desk, tracing the delicate lace patterns with his finger. He thought about throwing it away. He was going to have to dispose of his trash before the cleaning crew came through, anyway. Instead, he unlocked the bottom left drawer of his desk. Carefully, he folded the shirt with all the care he could and tucked it into the back of the drawer next to a picture of a teenage boy with floofy brown hair and bright eyes.

Locking the drawer once more, Cameron Gold sighed and rubbed at his temples. Belle French was a beautiful flicker of light in his life of darkness. Letting her go like this, pushing her away, was the best for her. Still, he knew one thing for certain.

Belle French would be the death of him.

#rumbelle fic #rumbelle

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lopsided-whiskey-grin · 1 year

Note

Ghostsoap but it’s the Steve/Bucky Cap America/Winter Solider dynamic…the angst of it all would just be 😙👌🏻

Anon, if there's one thing I love writing more than smut, it's angst. I had so much fun with this, you have no idea! It's sad boy hours, my friends! Let's make these men suffer 😈 ( also, don't come after me for the plot, it was just some half-baked idea I had about Makarov being like a hydra equivalent or something idk lol)

I Knew Him - chapter 1

Summary: Soap was never the same after he lost Ghost all those years ago. He still has nightmares about it. But when he learns Makarov is back after taking Ghost from him, he'll do anything to exact his revenge. Until he discovers Ghost was never really gone.

Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | AO3 link

It had been five years since Soap had last seen Ghost. Five years since he had seen him fall. And he was still plagued almost every night with dreams of him. Tonight was no different.

Soap awoke with a start, heart pounding wildly in his chest, soaked in sweat. He sat up, drawing his knees to his chest, burying his face against his forearms. Goddammit. Would this ever end? He slowly looked up to get his bearings. Moonlight filtering in through the window cast the room in a soft silver glow. He was at home. The salt of unshed tears burned at the back of his throat, remembering the nights he had shared with Ghost in this very flat. In this very bed. Fuck.

After giving himself a few minutes to catch his breath he made his way into the kitchen, knowing he wouldn't be getting back to sleep after that one. He had been holding Ghost's hand this time, holding on as hard as he could, but it wasn't enough. He wasn't strong enough to pull him back into the helo. And then he was gone, disappearing down, down, down into a rising cloud of dust.

The ending to the nightmares was always the same: Ghost falling and falling. But sometimes, like tonight, Soap was able to grasp his hand, to touch him one last time. It almost made it even worse. Because in the actual memory of it from all those years ago, Soap hadn't ever had a chance to grab on.

Rubbing a hand roughly over his tired face, Soap padded barefoot to the stove. A headache was already beginning to form in his left temple. He squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose as he started the kettle going. For a brief moment he considered something a little stronger than tea, but then thought better of it. He knew that the bottle of whisky in his cabinet only made him think of Ghost and getting black-out drunk at 3 o'clock in the fucking morning probably wasn't the best idea.

He was numbly watching a bag of Earl Grey steep in a mug of hot water and checking emails on his phone when a text came through. It was Price. "Rendezvous at the base at 0500. New intel on Makarov."

Soap's heart plummeted. Well, shit.

It was still dark out when Soap walked into the base to meet with his team. He had showered and shaved, but still felt tired way down to his fucking bones. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a full night’s sleep. Before Ghost fell, that’s when. The headache in his temple started coming back and he groaned, digging in his pocket for the small bottle of ibuprofen he kept on hand. He tipped a couple back onto his tongue and swallowed them dry, then made his way into the conference room to find Price already there, cigar in his mouth, waiting.

The rest of the team filed in slowly and when everyone had taken a seat, Price stood. Soap watched wearily as Price loaded a military brief onto the giant flat screen on the wall. “Morning, gentlemen. Let me get right down to it. We received classified intel of an attack being planned by Makarov in downtown D.C. happening twenty-four hours from now. And we have been tasked with stopping it."

A murmur swept across the room.

Soap sat forward in his seat, unchecked anger simmering just under the surface. “I thought we bagged that Russian prick after…” he stopped mid-sentence because he knew the next words out of his mouth were about to be after I lost Ghost. He cleared his throat and started again, “after Kyrgyzstan.”

Price shook his head, not quite meeting Soap’s eyes, and looked back to the screen. “Negative. Intelligence indicates that while we did get a positive lock on his location and obliterated his base, he escaped to a hidden shelter. He’s been operating underground for the last five years, working on a new secret weapon -- a weapon he’s planning on using in D.C.” He sighed and ashed his cigar before putting it back in his mouth. “We thought we were done with him, but he apparently wasn't done with us. The details have been sent to all of you. We rendezvous at the meeting point in two hours. Let’s nail this bastard once and for all. Dismissed.”

Everyone began leaving the room. Soap stood slowly on legs that were not quite steady. Price’s news made him numb, forcing his mind to relive that day with a heartbreaking clarity. The mission, the missile making contact on Makarov's compound, the helo taking a hit, Ghost. They were never able to recover his body. Soap never even got to say goodbye. It was just so fucking unfair.

Soap was so lost in himself he hardly even processed Price saying his name.

“MacTavish, a word.”

Blinking, Soap nodded and made his way across the empty room to Price. He stood before him at parade rest.

“Soap, I know you and Ghost were close.” Soap swallowed against a lump that formed in this throat, but pushed down any other emotion trying to show on his face. Price continued, “It wasn’t easy on the 141 when we lost him, but I know it was even harder for you. Will you be able to carry out the duties assigned to you in this mission, Lieutenant?”

A tic bunched in Soap's jaw and he straightened his back. "Aye, Captain." His voice was hoarse. "There is nothing I want more than to bring this motherfucker down for what he did. And what he plans to do.” For Ghost.

Price’s mouth set in a hard line and he studied Soap for a moment. Finally he said, “All right. Let's get this done, then.”

Soap nodded sharply once and left the room. His breath left his lungs with a whoosh. He found the nearest empty office and closed himself inside. Leaning back against the door, he slid slowly to the floor, blinking back tears. A mixture of emotion battled within him. Shock, grief, sorrow, anger. The anger ultimately won, though, as it usually does. He held onto it, allowing it to simmer hotly deep in his chest, burning up everything else but the raw demand of bringing Makarov down. He owed Ghost that much.

The next two hours passed in a blur. Soap operated on instinct alone; cleaning his guns, sharpening his knives, packing a rucksack. He tried his best not to dwell on much of anything at all except to prepare himself for what was to come. It was an effective technique apparently because he soon found himself at the rendezvous point at the airfield with no real recollection of how he got there. He joined up with the task force on the tarmac as they loaded themselves into the awaiting C-130. And they were off to D.C.

Soap’s exhaustion finally caught back up to him on the three hour flight and he was actually able to sleep for most of it. He, thankfully, had no dreams at all.

********************************************************************

After touching down, the 141 wasted no time in gathering in a caravan of SUVs and heading toward the location they received from Laswell’s intelligence brief. They were just about to exit off the Roosevelt Bridge when they were ambushed by Makarov's team, who seemed to come out of fucking nowhere. Straight adrenaline took over Soap’s whole body on the first collision of the Hummer behind them that slammed them sideways into the concrete barriers on their right. Another Hummer drove the wrong way up the highway, weaving between oncoming traffic, firing out the passenger window with a high caliber rifle. The second shot took out Soap’s driver who immediately plowed into the car in front of them, bringing them to a shuddering stop.

Soap’s heart thundered in his chest, but a lethal composure doused the fear rising up inside him. This was Makarov’s doing. And that bastard was going to fucking regret doing it. Ducking down in the back seat, Soap quickly dug his AK from his bag. He waited for a break in the rapid fire then exploded out of the vehicle in a hail of bullets. He found cover behind an empty utility truck. It was all out chaos with people running and screaming, gunfire cracking from all angles, and the remaining men of the task force shouting orders.

Soap peeked around the corner of his cover, taking out three of Makarov’s soldiers in a row with perfectly placed shots. Gaz, hunkered down behind him, took out a few more. For a moment, it appeared that they were gaining the upper hand. But then a man, hulking in height, dressed in all black with a hood shrouding his face in shadow, grasping a Kastov-74u in a gloved hand, exited one of the Humvees. Soap felt a chill shoot straight down his spine.

Sweet screaming Jesus

Soap emptied the last rounds of his last clip at the man but it did not slow him down in the slightest. He was blazing a path straight at Soap, like he had a personal vendetta against him. Fuck. The hard set of his broad shoulders, his imposing gait, all seemed to light up some forgotten memory in Soap's brain that he could not quite put his finger on. He surely couldn't even try to remember with the utter fucking bedlam happening all around him

"I'm empty," Gaz shouted at him.

Soap looked back over his shoulder. "Aye, same here!" This was going fubar faster than he was ready for.

His attention returned to the enemy stalking up the highway toward him. The man popped off two rounds, drilling into the truck right next to his head.

"Fuckin' hell," Soap gasped for breath. Then he heard the click of a dry fire and knew this was his only chance to bring this fucker down.

Securing his blade in hand, Soap made a run for it, swiping at the assailant fiercely with his knife. The man blocked the incoming attack but not before Soap was able to get a couple brutal slices to his forearm. The other arm was impenetrable though, surprising Soap momentarily. It was made of some kind of metal, something Soap had never seen before.

He looked up at the man with wide eyes, then tried sweeping his feet out from under him. The man was unmoveable. A feral growl rumbled up from the man's chest and Soap knew he was well and truly fucked.

He lunged at him, ringing his hands around Soap's neck, picking him up off his feet and throwing him back against the concrete barrier behind him. Pain shot up Soap's lower back when he connected with it but it was the furthest thing from his mind. All he could think was shit shit shit.

Soap scrambled up from the ground, knife still in hand, and slammed it into the man’s metal bicep. It sparked momentarily before the man knocked the knife from his grip. It went sliding across the pavement. Soap tried for hand to hand combat but it too was quickly shut down. The man was too fast, too strong. Still, Soap gave it his all.

It just wasn't fucking enough.

Snarling, the man picked Soap up by his flack jacket and attempted to hurl him up and over the bridge. Soap grasped for something, anything, as he fell over the edge and was able to grab his assailant's vest, holding on for everything he was worth. It tipped the man enough off balance for them both to fall over the precipice.

Soap squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for impact, almost hoping for the end. But it was only about a six meter plummet onto a grassy berm that led down to the river — enough to knock the breath from his lungs as he managed to land on top of the man currently trying to kill him. He rolled onto his feet, ready to keep going, ready to fight for his fucking life. The man gained his feet too, but this time with his hood pushed back, exposing his eyes. The lower half of his face was still obscured, covered by a skull mask.

Soap straightened abruptly. Everything came crashing to a halt. He knew those eyes. He knew that face. Even if it wasn't completely visible. His heart contracted painfully in his ribcage at the realization.

"Ghost?"

The man's chest heaved, but he paused. His brows were drawn together, like he was just asked the most complicated question in the world. "Who the fuck is Ghost?"

Soap stared at him in disbelief. He took one small step forward. Was this really happening? Or was he trapped inside another nightmare?

He wanted to rush forward, to pull Ghost into his arms, to ask him how any of this was possible. “I thought I lost you…” he began, but before he could reach Ghost, an explosion rocked the bridge behind him. Soap looked back over his shoulder, but when he turned back Ghost was gone.

*****************

Later that night, Ghost was sitting in a chair in Makarov’s underground bunker while a man in a white coat repaired the gash on his robotic arm. They were surrounded by armed guards in the small room, but Ghost knew there was no point to them. He could clear the whole room of every breathing person within a matter of minutes if he was given the order to.

He was bare from the waist up, ambivalently watching the glow of the tool as it patched the defect caused by the knife held by the man on the bridge. Something gnawed at him, deep inside. Some memory that was just out of his grasp. It made him uneasy. He remembered falling, he remembered the man from the bridge, reaching, screaming for him. He remembered darkness and pain. And more pain. But the memories were fractured, hazy.

Ghost heard Makarov walk into the room that led to the one he was currently in. He was talking to the handful of men that followed him wherever he went.

“He’s unstable. Erratic,” one of Makarov’s men said.

Ghost didn’t look up when they walked in, only continued staring at the man working on his arm. He was trying to dredge up long forgotten memories, but it was so hard to focus.

“Mission report,” Makarov barked, coming to a stop before Ghost.

Ghost looked up at him slowly. The barest hint of a memory sparked in his mind of the man from the bridge. They were laying in a bed together. He was holding the man’s face. The man had his eyes closed and he was smiling.

A confusing emotion knotted up his stomach and he only stared at Makarov, not really seeing him, trying to pull more of that memory out of the jumbled mess of his brain.

“Mission report, now!” Makarov ordered, bending closer to Ghost’s face.

Ghost didn’t hear him. He blinked owlishly. A bed. The man on the bridge. Smiling so softly.

He was suddenly pulled out of his trance by a swift backhand across his face. The pain of it stung across his cheek, but he barely registered it. He looked up at Makarov slowly, his brows drawing together as he tried so hard to remember.

“That man on the bridge. Who was he?”

Makarov was quiet for a moment. “You met him earlier on another assignment.”

Ghost shook his head. He knew that was a lie, but his memories were so clouded, he didn’t know if he could trust his own mind. “I knew him,” he said softly.

Makarov sighed and pulled up a stool to sit at Ghost’s eye level. “Your work has been a gift to mankind,” he began, but Ghost immediately tuned him out. The memory was just out of reach. If he could just remember the man’s name.

Makarov finally stopped talking. He looked at Ghost expectantly. Ghost felt a wave of sadness crash over him for the life he couldn’t remember. “But I knew him,” he said again with a shaky voice.

Makarov frowned and stood abruptly. He began walking away. “Prep him.”

One of the white coat men stopped him. “We can’t do that, sir. He’s been out too long.”

Makarov turned toward Ghost, looking him up and down with a disapproving glare. “Then wipe him and start over.”

Ghost’s heart rate jumped at those words, even if he didn’t really understand what it meant. In the back of his mind, deep, deep down, he knew he had been through this many times before.

The white coat men pushed Ghost back into the chair while Makarov’s soldiers all watched. And then a rubber dental guard was being shoved in his mouth. Fear flooded his senses as he was locked into the chair and he fought to drag in oxygen. The man on the bridge. His soft smile. The tender press of his lips on mine. Ghost replayed the only memories he had, holding on to them, trying not to forget this time. Please, don’t forget this time!

The plates came down over his face. They were cold against his skin and had an electrical scent to them. Terror immediately swept through him. Don’t forget don’t forget don’t forget. And then there was only pain and the echo of Ghost’s scream as he fell and fell and fell.

#ghostsoap #ghost x soap #soapghost #cap x winter soldier au #cod #mw2 #angst #established relationship #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #prompt fill

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ssuperficialspacecadett · 11 months

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i kinda wanna see the triple frontier boys and reader do the “lala” or “okok” challenge from the song see you again by tyler the creator and kali uchis. i’d like to see your interpretation on who’s who and their relationship dynamics.

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Melodic Friendships - Through the Scope Drabble

Rating: everyone ?? (im just having a fun time with this hehe)

Word Count: 2.3K

Notes (more at the end as well): i received this ask maybe two weeks ago and have been meaning to tackle it ! i saw this trend on tik tok back when it was really popular and it seemed like such a fun idea to characterize the TF boys and Estrella using it ! i will preface this post by saying that while i was trying to nail down what the exact definitions for what 'lala' and 'okok' were so i could correctly apply them to our boys,,,i found that each person had their own take/idea/meaning for it. so in the case of this little project i will be defining each term like so ...

'lala' characters (to me): people who are more extroverted, cheerful, talkative, carefree for the most part, and easy to get a long with

'okok' characters (to me): people who are more introverted, a listener, a planner, and easy to be around

*this is also going to be an unedited/stream of consciousness/off the top of my head kinda vibe so i'm sure there will be grammatical errors and i apologize for that now*

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Benny Miller - lala

There was once a time where Benny thought that nothing could compare to being out in the field with his brother and two best friends. He loved the feeling of holding a gun in his hands, the feeling of never knowing what was around the next corner, and constantly knowing that his men had his back. There were some draw backs...okay a lot of draw backs. There was always the fear of his finger getting trigger shy, that what was around the corner could be to much to handle, and coming home one man short. Even so, he didn't think he could love anything more. That was until he opened up Brass Knuckles. And then, he found, his love grew even more when you came to work with him.

You kept up with him in everything he did. Honestly, you did more than keep up with him. If he had cleaned three workout benches, you had already cleaned the last four and were on your way to start another task. If he asked if the water was stocked in the mini fridge, you would roll your chair back with a grin and reveal a full fridge and sneak in a comment about how you 'picked up an extra pack from the store yesterday after work'. Everything was a competition, but it was all in fun. It was so refreshing to not be the youngest anymore. Not that he ever let it stop him. He was the youngest in his academy graduating class, but you better believe he snagged that number one spot. Will had told him once he was 'a one in a million talent' and he wanted to prove it every single day.

The two of you could talk for hours about absolutely nothing and never get bored. He wasn't even sure if either of you ever took a breath the entire time too. It was always go go go with yall. He could always count on you to act as a spring board for new ideas he was concocting for the gym. If his own ideas fell flat, you were there to air them back up with imaginative creations of your own. The pair of yall were a fucking powerhouse. It extended far past the gym too.

Whenever he managed to bully you into having a night with the guys down at The Barrel, neither one of you were quiet the entire time. It was like you were feeding off of each other like batteries that never lost their charge. The other guys would look around try to get a word in, but both of you had already moved onto greener topics. The others could only laugh and look at yall with intense amazement because who knew there was another person alive who could go toe to toe with Benny's mind. As cheesy as it sounds, you made him feel like he got his spark back. He didn't even realize he had lost it to being so wrapped up in life until you showed up either. You were his platonic other half.

***

Will Miller: okok

Will liked to be around people. However, he was picky about who he was around. He guessed that's why he didn't have many, if any, friends outside his group. They were all that he needed. He knew he would never be pestered for being on the quiet side or mocked because he was a little particular about the way he liked things. He was happy for Benny when he hired you. Lord only knows how much help his brother needed running that place. Of course he helped out whenever and however he could, but he had a job of his own.

He was wary about meeting you, he wasn't going to lie. Sure he would treat you with respect regardless, but for all he knew, you were just another employee. Nothing more and nothing less. However, he was taken aback at how naturally you bantered with Pope. When it came time for him to introduce himself to you, you didn't let him down either. You had a bright smile and a firm handshake. Not that he would call himself old fashioned, but he regarded people who had a solid handshake quite high. If he only knew that your grip would capture his heart as well.

You had been convinced to join all them out at The Barrel one Tuesday evening. He was already waiting with Pope at their usual table when you and Benny arrived after closing duties. Frankie would be running late due to his NA meeting, but that wasn't his truth to deliver to you. He watched you walk towards them with that beaming grin on your face. Unfortunately, he wasn't the only one in the bar that noticed. Men turned their heads and stared at you as you plopped yourself down to his right. He felt his chest swell with pride as you reached over and hugged him so lovingly. He wasn't much of a physical touch enthusiast, but you somehow made it seem bearable. For you, he was more than willing to make an exception.

When you realized you had left your wallet at the gym, you were insistent that you went back to get it. You said 'just because I'm a lady doesn't mean yall have to buy me drinks all the time. Maybe I want to buy yall drinks sometimes and I can't do that if I don't have my card'. He pushed away from the table just as you did and gave you a look that meant 'you are more than welcome to go, but you're crazy if you think you're going alone'. He listened peacefully as you pointed out constellations to him in the sky. You looked so pleased with yourself that he didn't have the heart to tell you that he already knew where each one was and how to navigate by using them. He just liked hearing you talk.

On the way back he found himself on the opposite end of the conversation. You had managed to get him to tell you about his job and what it entails. It felt so natural to talk with you by his side. Usually he is the one with a quippy one liner or words of caution, but with you, someone who used to be a stranger, he is comfortable enough to really talk. You pull him out of his shell and make him want to shed the armor he had built up around himself. It felt safe to do that with you.

***

Santiago Garcia: lala

He was smooth. Santi knew he was smooth. He had the body count to prove it and everyone around him knew it. He had never felt so challenged by a woman in his life. Usually they all turned to putty in his hands when he spoke, but you held tough. You were Fish's girl (even if he hadn't officially asked you yet) and he was so excited to see where it went. Yet, that didn't stop him from loving to push your buttons. He knew you could take it. The first moment he met you he knew. What did you say to him exactly? 'Kissing and telling wouldn’t be a good way to end my first day, don't ‘cha think?' God, that was a good line and he would have to put it in his back pocket to use for later. From that day on, the two of you were constantly trying to out wit the other.

Yall were once in the middle of a particularly devious match while grocery shopping together. He had lost at a five way game of rock, paper, scissors to see who had to buy the beer for a hangout. He was pretty pissed about it and it didn't get any better when he heard you volunteer to go with him just to rub in your victory the whole time. He was moping around the beer isle when he saw her. A beautiful woman maybe 10 years younger than him. Unfortunately, you saw her too. 'You couldn't keep up with her if you tried, old man' , 'funny, that's the same thing I told Fish when he said he liked you'. He had to pretend to look at the contents on the shelf to keep himself from laughing at your shocked face. Sure he could joke around with the other guys and they would always joke back, but there was something about your spirit that just matched his so well. Benny was a close second.

However, the one thing he loved more than ganging up on you was when the two of you would gang up on everyone else. 'The entry fee for the table is one shot' you told Fish one night when he showed up late one Tuesday evening. He saw the twinkle in your eye and knew exactly what to do. 'We all did it, man. Now it's your turn'. Will looked like he was about to object, but stopped when he noticed you placing your hand over his. You just had a way with all of them.

He found himself anxiously awaiting each time the two of you would meet so he could pick on you. He felt younger when you were around him. He felt just as spry as he did before his knee and neck surgeries. The weight of his years in the service had started to get unbearably heavy on his shoulders. Little did he know, all he needed was to see you throw back your head in laughter because of something he said to ease his pain.

***

Frankie Morales: okok

Frankie loved watching you. He knew that probably sounded creepy to say out loud, so he kept it to himself. He thought that there was a lot that you could learn about the inner workings of a person just by watching them in their day to day lives. When you called him that your car broke down he went through so many emotions and happiness may or may not have been one of them. After everything was squared away at the shop, he realized he didn't want to let you go. So he bucked up the courage and asked you to breakfast.

You allowed him to chose the spot since he was a local and he settled on a hole-in-the-wall diner. He peaked over his own menu to see you smiling and looking over each and every item the restaurant served. He couldn't help but smile when he would catch you mouthing the description of the food to yourself. Frankie didn't even mind that it took you forever to order either. That just meant that he gets to spend more time in your presence. When yalls plates were brought out he saw you sneaking glances at what was in front of him. He wanted to ask you if you wanted a bite, but did that seem to relationshipy?? After you excused yourself to go to the restroom, he cut a piece of his meal off and set it on your plate. He would have given you his entire breakfast if he knew how bright you were going to light up when you came back and saw what he did.

When breakfast was finished, it was you that suggested that the two of yall do something else. He willingly let you drag him into a bath and body works store. At first he was a bit apprehensive, but you guided him over to the mens section. 'I'll break you just like I broke Benny' , "You'll break me? That sounds like a threat' , 'Just smell the candle, Frankie'. He lost track of how many candles he smelled by the time you were checking out. At this point he wasn't sure if it was the perfumes or you that were clouding his brain and making him feel all warm and fuzzy. 'I noticed you liked this one a lot' you told him producing a three wicked candle 'I wanted to get it for you as a thank you gift for helping me today'. He wondered if you saw his heart jump into his throat.

Although his favorite time to watch you was when you were asleep. He never dreamed in a million years that he would be luck enough to have someone as beautiful and kind as you lay in bed next to him. Your body was huddled up as close as could be to his. Your face was smooshed up against his bicep and he could feel your gentle breathing tickling his skin. He brushed a hair that falls in your face away and cursed at it for threatening to wake you up.

Frankie felt differently in the way that he carries himself since he has met you. Honestly, he had seen a change in each and every one of the guys. He felt like he was coming back to life again.

***

Reader/Estrella- lala

I feel like it is fairly obvious that Estrella is 'lala'. I didn't want to write a specific one for her as she is featured in each of the boy's character descriptions and can be seen displaying 'lala' characteristics. I will say, what I love about her is her ability to so easily adapt to the people around her. Her overall personality doesn't change, but she is able to understand what Frankie, Santi, Will, and Benny all need from her. Estrella can bring Will and Frankie (okok) out of the prisons of their minds and mess around on the same caliber as Santi and Benny (lala). She is talker while also being quite the listener. She knows when one is needed and can let the other take a back seat. Estrella loves these boys more than she ever thought she would and I can't wait to see how she spends the rest of her time in Florida with them.

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Notes: Hello to noonie and everyone else who made it to the end of my little brain dump ! I loved this ask so so much and again im sorry it took me so long to complete ! I hope this sufficiently answers your ask ((: thank you again for submitting it to me <3

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#through the scope #through the scope drabble #through the scope headcanon #frankie morales fanfiction #benny miller fanfiction #william miller fanfiction #santiago garcia fanfiction #i love asks #literally please blow up my asks

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