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#these ghosts stay right here where he knows they are save
ilovereading5252 · 9 months
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DpxDc promt
Danny knows he can get a bit hyper focused. Especially if it concerns him personally. So maybe he didn’t notice that other places also had ghost problems. So what? He fixed it didn’t he. He even said sorry, all right. He will pay more attention from now on.
The Justice League, probably: It’s alright, we forgive you, but what did you do with them?
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thexsilentxwordsmith · 5 months
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader
Cockwarming Simon as you two make out in his office.
From the request here
“I need it in ya, baby,” Simon gasps in between the breaks in your lips connection. “Just for a bit. Ya know ya fuckin’ want me in ya too.”
The tiny office is silent save for the deep groans and sharp breaths as Simon holds you close, you perched comfortably on his beefy thighs while he sits at his desk so that he can steal kiss after heated kiss, relishing in the feeling of your soft lips against his own. Rough hands run up the length of your back, following your spine over your shirt until they reach the back of your head where he uses them to draw your face in tighter until your mouth stings from the pressure. 
Sitting in the middle of his lap you can feel his cock poking against the cheek of your ass, pulsing and throbbing as it strains against the fabric of his pants. It’s no surprise what he needs; it’s the same thing he wants every time he calls you into his office for a “meeting” during your lunch break, which is becoming more and more frequent these days.
You are a very addictive problem, one that he is constantly losing himself in and making every excuse in the book to spend as much time wrapped up in that he can. A pretty thing like you, how is he supposed to keep his hands off? If that means setting up a quick make out session to get through the day, then he’s gonna make it happen one way or another.
“Have training in a bit,” you mutter as you break from his mouth just for a split second. “Don’t want to be late.”
He’s right back on you before the last beat of your reply can hit, not wanting to be parted from you for longer than needed. It takes a minute before he tries to reason with you again. “Not gonna be late,” he reassures. “But how the hell am I supposed to stay outta ya, hmm? Not when ya feel so fuckin’ good. Just want ya to warm me for a bit and then I’ll make sure you’re outta here with plenty ‘a fuckin’ time.”
His hand rubs along one of your thighs as the other is still tangled in the strands of your hair, not wanting to give you the chance to get away from the barrage of his lips. Fuck, it’s getting harder to think straight the longer his mouth captures yours in that tangled dance that he seems to be an expert in. You lean into his embraces a bit more and Simon is sure he has you right where he wants you now.
There is not a chance in hell you are going to deny him. “You better make it up to me later,” you say breathlessly and you can feel his lips upturn into a smile against your own.
The grip on your hair tightens as he gives it a sharp tug. “Take off your fuckin’ pants.”
That gravely, heavily accented tone sends a full shiver down your spine. No one can make a demand like that sound so fucking good, especially now that he’s made you delirious off his kisses alone.
The officers building is full of people today so privacy is near non-existent and though you know this is probably a terrible idea, you can’t be stopped. Helping you off his lap Simon sets you on your feet to the side of the desk, giving you the space to do what you need to do. He watches with hungry eyes as you undo the button keeping your bottoms secure; goddamn you are a pretty little thing, aren’t you?
Adjusting himself, he sits back more in his chair. “Slower,” he demands firmly. 
Instantly your movements become measured as you take your time undressing while you keep those beautiful eyes directly on him. He doesn’t break eye contact at all; instead his hand slips down over his abdomen to the crotch of his own pants where he tugs at the fabric tenting there before massaging the spot as he watches your little striptease. Those unflattering uniforms keep all those voluptuous curves hidden from his view and so any chance he gets to see you out of them is a treat indeed. 
You drag the zipper down painfully slow, making sure to give him all the tantalizing he wants. As the front now hangs open, you slide your hands back to your hips where you slip your fingers into the waistband and begin to push them down until the top seam of the panties clinging around your hips are exposed. 
Eyes unblinking, breathing stayed, Simon is caught in the moment, his hand pulling up the hem of his shirt just over his navel so that he can fiddle with his belt buckle until he can pry the damned thing loose. He grunts as he has to roll his hips back so that he can slip his hand between the bulk of stocky muscle on his lower abdomen and the seam of his pants to get it off. The metallic clink rings out and he quickly undoes the rest, plunging his hand inside to pull out his cock so that he can palm it and give it a proper stroke as you continue on. 
Instantly you freeze as your eye catches that trail of sparse hair traveling down the line of his stomach below his belly button towards his member and your mouth begins to salivate and a hard, throbbing pulse between your thighs makes your legs feel like liquid. God, you are so down bad for your superior that it is bordering on pathetic the way that even that small patch of hair has you chomping at the bit.
Simon clears his throat as he catches your sight lingering and as you meet the glint in his eyes and the smirk on his kiss-raw lips, you refocus on the task at hand. These pants still have to go and time is of the essence. You continue on, pushing the fabric down over the curve of your ass to your thighs and then your ankles in the same slow fashion, only this time more unsteady as your heartbeat pounds. They hit the ground and those damned pants are finally off; there you stand before him in nothing but your panties.   
 “Off,” he hisses as his head nods down to the last article of clothing keeping you from being filled by him.
There’s heat bubbling in your cheeks now, making them flush, and though you are almost rendered dumb just from the tension alone there’s still a little fire in you yet. “What’s the magic word?” you ask with a good bit of sass. 
A chuckle escapes his mouth as his hand strokes harder around his dick; he does love a bit of cocky pushback, but make no mistake that that will be remembered for later. His mouth yearns to devour your lips again and he doesn’t want to wait any more than he already has, so he lets it be…for now. Leaning forward in his seat he reaches out and his large hand wraps around your wrist to pull you back to him.
“Keep ‘em on all ya fuckin’ want sweetheart, don’t need ya to take ‘em off for what I wanna do,” he groans as he grabs onto your hips and forces you to move yourself back on top of him straddling over his lap. 
Fair enough. 
You can feel his warm fingers twitching with anticipation as they move in between your thighs and up against your clothed sex before his digits hook themselves into the crotch of your panties and wrench them to one side roughly. The seam digs into that soft area at your upper inner thigh as you loosely wrap your arms around his neck while a hand on your hip aligns your body at the perfect spot over top of him. 
Holding the base of his cock, Simon pushes down on your hip and you don’t fight it. “That’s a good fuckin’ girl, now let’s get this in,” he praises as the tip pokes through your petals and against your entrance. A harder press on your body and his cock shoves its way inside, stretching you wide as it slips in and you whine inside your closed mouth as you struggle to take him in so quickly. 
“F-fuck,” he exclaims, his body shuddering as you come all the way down until you are once again sitting on his lap only this time with all of him thrust deep inside you. “Isn’t this better? Goddammit, this is where ya fuckin’ belong princess.”
His forehead comes to rest on your own, staggered breath being siphoned between the pair of your lips before he leans up into you and crushes your mouths back together in sloppy kisses that leave you with a yearning that situates itself deep in your core. Your mouth is like candy, sweet and addictive, and each brush of your lips against his own only makes him vibrate with a need for more. Long fingers find their way back to tangle in your hair to grip it hard as he smashes his face in until your features are molded together.
Those soft, supple lips are his to ruin and he will, by fuck he will. With each fiery embrace he lays his claim upon your mouth as if he wishes to bind your faces together so he never has to do without their euphoria. Without warning his strong, thick tongue parts your lips with ease and plunges fully inside your mouth to dance and twist with your own, filling the orifice to capacity as he shoves it down the back of your throat. 
You can barely intake air with your mouth full of his tongue, but it doesn’t matter. Suffocation feels like a dream when you are stuffed so overwhelmingly from above and below. Your pussy holds him tight, tight enough that the throbbing from the blood rushing to engorge his cock feels like he’s being stroked without any movement. Each throb has a visceral reaction and you can feel the wetness gathering by the second with every beat. 
The dizzying intensity of his kisses and the pulsating of his cock are too much and leave you clenching your thighs, squeezing him in the process as you cannot help rocking your hips, but that is dangerous territory. Simon is already teetering close to the razor’s edge.
“Don’tcha fuckin’ move,” he says with a sharp hiss of breath, wrangling your hips down square against his pelvis with a heavy grip so that you cannot shift them at all. “We don’t have time to do this proper, just need to feel ya to get through this fuckin’ day and then I’ll do it right later.”
There is desperation on his lips something vicious and it can be felt in the way his embraces become more aggressive; through the haze fogging your brain you instinctively know he is holding on by a thread. Doing as he says, you do your best to keep yourself still to allow his cock to soak in you just as he wants. 
Your arms around his neck tighten as you grip on to sanity and his hands travel back up your body to cradle your face between them. There’s nothing outside of the taste of your lips, the burn from the pressure of your mouths together, the throbbing from inside your tight pussy as it coats his cock in your nectar. It all becomes an insatiable blur as his mind numbs and he forgets everything else outside of the ecstasy of you. 
The longer he’s buried in you the more your walls swell to squeeze him tighter and he does not realize what is happening. Simon forgets that he is getting too worked up, succumbing to all that pleasure that he cannot stop his body from its more primal instincts. With each passing minute the tension from the coil knotting in his abdomen is drawing closer together, threatening to snap at any second and send him coming and coming hard. 
Eyes closed, mind gone, body so warm it feels like he is on fire, the feeling of your body driving him insane, it is all too much. That coil has tightened all it can and he finally becomes aware of it just as you accidentally rock your hips ever so slightly, but it is enough that there is nothing else he can do other than accept what is about to happen. 
“Fuck,” he groans against your parted lips as he realizes that he has miscalculated just how much he can take. “Ugh…fuck, baby.”
It’s too late, this cannot be stopped and at the last second he reacts. With a sharp, loud grunt he picks your hips up and rocks his own back to pull out of you just as he pops off. The sticky, warm emission spurts out of him with force and up onto his exposed belly, catching the bottom half of his t-shirt in its intensity. His lips lock to yours in an effort to keep the noise from those deep, guttural whimpers down as he rolls his hips, milking every last out of the aching tip that he can as you grind against it.
A couple of minutes pass before his pace finally slows and comes to a stop with nothing left to give as that swift flow of exhaustion floods his body. Those bruised lips unlatch from your own as he falls against the back of the chair to sit limp as he works to regulate his breathing. Being so worked up is something he is still getting used to, losing himself like that is not a problem he had before you came along. But no one has ever made him feel as if he’d been struck by a live wire before: all excitement whenever you are around.
Just one of the hazards of being with such a vixen.
There is still a pulsing in you that causes your body to continue to ache, but as your wandering eyes land on the watch around Simon’s wrist you see that there are only a few minutes left before you need to be in training and you still have to make it across base. Carefully, you get up off of him and make your way to your pants, redressing fast as those brown eyes cling to your every move.
“See what ya fuckin’ do to me, sweetheart? I’m a goddamn mess for ya,” he sighs as he watches you fix your soaked panties back into place before pulling your pants back on, sad to see such a gorgeous sight be concealed once more. 
“Seems like we have that in common,” you smile as you finish up and lean back into him, using his thighs as support as you give him one last, lingering kiss. You’re already gonna be late, might as well make it worth it. 
Simon wants you to stay, to have you for the rest of the afternoon, but he knows that duty calls and if he doesn’t tell you to go then it’s only going to get harder to leave. “Best get outta here ‘fore I change my mind and do somethin’ stupid to get us both in fuckin’ trouble,” he says with a nod of his head. “We’ll finish this up later, I swear.”
You lean in one more time for a short peck before turning tail and quickly making your way out of the office. Simon’s gaze lingers on your form until you exit and shut the door behind you, leaving him alone to deal with the mess he’s made of himself while his raw lips are already craving yours again. 
“She is a problem,” he chuckles to himself, “a very big fuckin’ problem.”
Tag list: @llelannie
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caseys-breanna · 2 months
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My favourite Parker episode has always been The Inside Job, y'know why? It's not just what Parker does, but rather what the others do FOR Parker.
Parker has 4 safe houses in the city, but Nate and Sophie know her well enough to know where she actually stays when she's away from the team
Parker's security code. Do you understand the level of trust someone like Parker will have to have to use their name as her security code? To the place that's her own personal sanctuary? Sophie EARNED that level of trust.
'The Sterenko can't be cracked-' 'Can you do it?' 'Nate, it can't be-' 'For Parker. Can you do it for Parker?'
This. Just this.
'I made her. I trained her, and I released her into the world.' 'She was broken! She needed you!'
This stood out so loud to me, because it's not Hardison or Sophie (the more emotionally intelligent ones of the team) saying it. Because it's NATE. It's Nate, the man who couldn't say I Love You to Sophie for so long. The man who got so caught up in his son's death that every job involving kids or medical malpractice he nearly went out of line. NATE, who pushes and pushes and is ruthless and so cold at times.
It's Nate protesting for Parker, standing up FOR Parker, and y'know why? Because Parker doesn't know what she got deprived of. Parker doesn't feel that loss because you can't grieve something you aren't even aware you could've had. But Nate does. Nate saw her injustice and loss of childhood and spoke up, KNOWING she'll never know about him defending her.
'Hardison I screwed up.' 'We're already here mama.'
Do you understand the level of trust and vulnerability it requires for her to say those words? She's never gotten anyone's help after a screwup, she's had to take care of herself on her own. And there's Hardison, right there, not upset, not angry, not disappointed. A right straight - I'm here and we'll get you out.
'Let's get our girl home.'
Do I even need to say anything.
'It's not what we do, we don't get involved!' 'No, that's what YOU do!'
Parker is not Archie Leach's protege anymore. She's Parker. She's the greatest thief in the world. She's the one person to get the entire Leverage Inc breathing down your neck to save her. She has a family who got her back. She has a life and friends and people who may not understand her always but will always support her and be there for her, no matter what, without changing any aspect of her or forcing her to change either. And she saves people, because that's what they do.
'It's your play Parker.'
The explicit trust Nate displays in her. For someone like Nate with control issues and need to be the guy calling the shots, this is practically an all out notice saying 'she's my people, she's my family, I trust her with my life, more than that I trust her with my family and our jobs.'
'No.' 'What do you mean no? This isn't time for crazy, Parker! Come on!' 'No! I need to go back. I need to put the vial back.'
Do you understand what it feels to have someone like Parker, who is practically a ghost and the prospect of getting stuck somewhere is unthinkable, to refuse an escape route? And that too because she wants to help people and not be used to hurt them? In the face of someone who brought her up to only steal? Now that's growth.
Now this is a callback, but when Sophie and Nate first enter her safehouse, Sophie says something that foreshadows the ending. She says 'Look at this. It's methodical. This could be one of your plans, Nate.'
This is a personal choice, but god it's so good when authors and writers and creators give you hints and foreshadow and reward your intuition at the end, rather than changing endings for shock value. Because Hardison isn't ruthless, Eliot isn't striving for control, and Sophie is dramatic, not clinical. None of it would have been worth it unless it went to Parker, which it did.
Man, this fucking show I swear.
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DPXDC prompt. Adult!Danny x Sleep-deprived!Constantine: We seem to have a misunderstanding.
Warlock was willing to admit that the Phantom’s company was mostly useful and not unpleasant. Because of the specifics of his work they had to meet quite often. It was nice to be at least a little sure that you wouldn’t get stabbed in the back. The new ghost king seemed to be amused by the World of the Living and that was quite useful. In addition, the Infinite Realms had a history of endless conflicts with Hell, so when demons was messing with him, Phantom was happy to put sticks in their wheels.
However, the current enemy of the League was another alien. Both John and Phantom happened to be nearby. But it seems ghost had no reason to help Hellblazer now, as this fight had nothing to do with his kingdom. Given that Batman had explicitly instructed John to stay on the battlefield, it seemed that if John Constantine wanted to count on a weekend, he would have to use his trump card now.
Constantine: In view of the urgency of the situation, I would like to make a proposal. Life offers many challenges. I know I can meet them if you're willing to face them with me. In the spirit of saving time..[holding up a ring] This is for you. You in?
Phantom: I..I don’t know, John. I mean i want to say yes but It’s all so sudden. Please gimme some time to think, okay? And let me help to deal with these invaders first and then we’ll talk about it.
John: ..Sure?
~~~~~
Tucker: Whoa crazy battle dude. John: Civilians are not allowed here. Danny: It's all right. We were going to meet at a cafe, but now, well, there is no cafe. I mean, he's with me and not so civilian, okay?Ehem..John, meet my best friend Tucker. Tucker, meet my..Em, this is John, and he's kinda my John. It's new for us.
Damn. He was in a hurry and offered more than he should have. It turns out the ghost had an interest in protecting the city. It is unlikely that he would allow the destruction of the place where one of his humans lives.
And worst of all, Phantom did not accept the ring (for which John had to hunt for several months) as payment. Constantine got it specially in case he needed a favor or a way to calm the anger of the spirit he was starting to get along with. Like, really, John spent a fair amount to own the artifact which would have neutralized the consequences of wearing a ring of rage. But Ghost didn’t want it? Why? And yet he helped. So John was in debt.
And how it's all at a bad time. The peace treaty and the treaty of cooperation between the States and the Infinite Realms was concluded only recently. Of course John didn't even have time to discuss the terms of their deal because the blushing ghost flew away to fight but to say that he won't pay for the service is like admitting that you want to start a new conflict. Constantine was starting to have a headache. He'll think about it when he gets at least a couple of hours of sleep. Whatever payment the ghost needs, it can wait a couple of hours.
~~~~~
But as it turned out, the ghost couldn’t make up his mind and decide what he wanted from him. He started showing up at John’s place and looking at him thoughtfully, also recently dragged him to pick out a suit. How he could be mistaken for a stylist John did not understand but preferred not to unnerve a potential ally.
Moreover, for some reason the chaotic creature decided that he had the right to condemn John for always forgetting to have dinner or take a bath. This scoundrel dared to lock him in a bathroom with strange scented candles and colored water. Whatever these bath bombs were, dumb spirit failed to poison him but now John smelled like peaches. Disgusting.
After breaking down the door he found the same mess with candles on the kitchen table. Phantom fought a fierce battle with the green goo in the pot that he brought to John's house, but eventually gave up and they ordered delivery. All in all, it was a pleasant evening. Of course John didn't admit it but for some reason Danny decided that he could make such a mess every Friday.
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~~~~~
Danny: So..me and Morningstar are friends now. Do you mind? I know you don’t get along very well. John: Why should I care? Your friends are your business. Considering you’re crazy about the stars I’m surprised you’re not sleeping with their maker.
Danny: Hell no, Lightbringer is great. And I’m glad he’s sharing with me what I wouldn’t find in books but I would never cheat on my partner. John: Good to know. (Wow, who knew the Phantom has a lover.)
~~~~~
Morningstar: I have no idea what you see in this arrogant man, stardust.
Phantom: I don’t know. It’s interesting to be around him. You never know what’s going to happen tomorrow. And his determination and sarcastic nature are really charming.
Morningstar: Well, I’ll get rid of some of his contracts for your wedding but only because I like you and not because I’m willing to deal with this liar.
Phantom: Thanks, Luci,  you’re the best.
Morningstar:That’s true. But it's not free. I need you as a babysitter to keep Spawn busy while, well, Detective and I are busy.
Phantom: No problem :)
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forlix · 5 months
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‧ ❆ ˚ 𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐲 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝・h.j.
— stars flare brightest in the absence of light, and you see his clearer than day.
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words・6.4k
pairing・han jisung x female reader
genres・college!au, friends with benefits to lovers, snowed in trope, smut, MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS THAT INTERACT WILL BE BLOCKED, angst, ANGST, you have been warned, hurt/comfort, i can't write normal fluff to save my life, happy ending!!!, semi-slow burn
warnings・depictions of insomnia, recurring nightmares, graphic violence, character death (in the nightmare), fears of abandonment and falling in love, alcohol consumption, humans helping each other heal. smut warnings under the cut
playlist・stay - acoustic by jonah baker・all of me by big gigantic・babydoll (speed) by ari abdul・oasis by exo・volcano by han
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a/n・hi, here's my second installment of winter falls. writing this was immensely challenging and twice as meaningful, so feedback would be greatly appreciated. thank you to my may for being so fucking instrumental in piecing together this rollercoaster—this one is for you, i love you. thanks to my sahar for everything, always and forever. and thanks to all of you for being here. happy new year ♡
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smut warnings・spitplay, unprotected piv, please practice safe sex!!!, car sex, dirty talk, jisung's dick game is kinda crazy, squirting, lots of aftercare
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Every time Jisung closes his eyes, he sees somebody’s back.
It’s leaving. Traipsing somewhere he can’t follow. He tries to chase it—he always does, he never learns—but the premise doesn’t so much as surface before the ghosts circling around his ankles go for his throat instead. They snare him by the shoulders, force him to his knees, slam his forehead into the permafrost hard enough to break bone. They make sure the next time he tries to move will be the last.
So he remains, keeled over in the cold, until tearwater clings to his lower lashes in small icicles. Until bloodstained snow coats his lips like the manifestation of a curse. Until the back has disappeared.
Who does it belong to? He’s left to wonder. Where is it going?
Why can’t I follow?
Then he wakes up.
No longer does he lay awake for hours afterwards, scouring the dream’s every frame for his answers.
Now, he tosses and turns in clammy sheets until his exhaustion wins.
Now, he welcomes sleep like a miracle granted by some pitying god.
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You see him.
Through a living room packed with red-faced partygoers and dissected by oscillating strobe lights, albeit, but you see him anyways. 
Jisung can barely make out the rest of your face—he blames the lighting, or the soju, or both—but your eyes alone turn him to glass. Not a fancy vase through which the world distorts, but a simple pane that puts him and his ghosts on full display.
He hopes you like horror movies.
Felix knows you, because of course he does, and Jisung has never been happier to call the extroverted Australian his friend than when you come over to say hi. You stumble out of the crowd all smudged makeup and sweaty skin, your figure hugged by a short black dress with two diamond-shaped openings just above your hips, your glossy lips curved in a drunken smile. Jisung immediately wants it against his mouth.
Instead, it disappears behind his friend as you pull him into a quick hug. A few wisps of your hair dust over Jisung’s arm, momentarily replacing the smells of grease and vodka with cherry blossoms and vanilla.
“Lix, hey!”
“Darling, it’s good to see you! Feels like it’s been ages.”
“I know, right? How are you? How is everything?”
“Good, thank you. Just happy the semester’s over.”
“I’ll drink to that.” Then you go to lift your drink and discover thin air in its place. “Or I won’t. Whoops.”
This prompts Jisung’s first contribution to the conversation—and his first effortless laugh in a long while.
“Eventful night, huh?”
He meets your gaze from all of two feet away this time, and his knees buckle under him. That gaze, fuck. So clear and true, like a prism of glass refracting light into a rainbow. He would let you refract him a thousand times over if he had any light to give.
“Maybe,” you giggle. “Seems I’m a little too happy the semester’s over.”
“Wanna not get a drink to celebrate?”
Your expression flickers. Not in a bad way, more like you hadn’t expected him to ask so soon—or for yourself to have your answer so quickly.
A strobe light catches right under your eye and refracts the color in your blushing face. A rainbow.
“I’d like that.”
He tilts his head towards the kitchen. You give Felix’s elbow a light squeeze before moving past him; he gives Felix a glimpse of his growing smile before falling into step behind you. The blonde shakes his head, throws back the rest of his beer, then swivels at the sound of someone calling his name from across the foyer.
Felix will get drunk enough to forget the sight of you leading Jisung up the stairs, two bottles of pink lemonade tucked under your arm. Nothing stronger, as promised.
Jisung asks his question an entire minute after he intends to. “Where are we going, by the way?”
“Somewhere I can see your pretty face without having to squint,” you reply, and his stomach tumbles like a schoolboy with a valentine.
You don’t stop at the second floor. Instead, you nudge open a door Jisung swears just materialized to his left and emerge into the night air.
It’s warm for December, but he’s still met with chilly winds licking down the sides of his neck. That’s not the only reason he shudders, though. Below his feet, he finds a metal platform akin to that of a fire escape. Above his head, a staircase that looks one forceful step away from dropping off the side of the building.
You turn towards it. 
In a hurry, he sputters, “I’m, uh—I’m not sure about this.”
A beat passes. Your hold on his wrist loosens, not to let go, just to trace wordless reassurance down the back of his hand. Your fingers feel perfect sliding into the spaces between his, like drops of honey in the craters of soufflé pancakes.
“It’s safer than it looks, I promise.”
Jisung heaves a sigh. It seems saying no to you is an impossible task.
You’re right, though. The iron rungs are surprisingly rigid beneath his feet, and the two of you make it to the roof with no trouble. He does stumble when you pull him up onto the gravel, but it’s intentional, a purposeful blunder to have you closer. To snag another glimpse of that blush, another trace of that floral vanilla.
“Sorry,” he whispers almost directly upon your lips. And that earns him all three.
The next hour evades him for the most part, and Jisung is pissed about it. He’s with the woman of his dreams under a sky so clear it’s almost lustrous and he’s too shitfaced to recollect when he gave you his hoodie to wear; what you said that made his lungs capsize with how hard he laughed; how you ended up so close to each other, your legs strewn over his lap, his hands tracing over your thighs.
Thankfully, he remembers a few things. He remembers how frighteningly easy you are to talk to; he remembers your habit of smacking his stomach when you get flustered; he remembers you getting flustered a lot. He remembers the timbres of your different laughs and how your stunning features crinkle with each. He remembers feeling like a pane of glass in front of you, just like he had downstairs, and he remembers liking it, somehow. Liking the way you see through him, the way you allow him to just exist as he is. Liking the way you acknowledge his ghosts with such nonchalance, inviting them over for tea and biscuits.
He wants to remember everything about you.
It’s not often he wants to remember anything.
Eventually, your conversation comes to a natural close. In its absence, Jisung notices that the alcoholic sludge in his brain has largely diffused; with it, the rumbling bass of the party below. The full moon hangs at its highest point, blanketing the two of you with anticipatory silence, nudging you towards the only topic you’ve yet to breach.
He meets your gaze again, from all of two inches away this time, and his insides twist.
“You’re still drunk, aren’t you?”
You blink at him, not following. Then he leans his forehead against yours, lets his eyes flicker to your mouth with such unbridled want that you’re instantly dizzy—and no longer confused.
Regret pools in your eyes moments before they close. “Yes, I think so.”
Your lips are so, so close that he can feel the air shift between you when they move, can feel the soft warmth emanating from them. Jisung pulls away before he does anything stupid.
You do the stupid thing for him.
You push his shoulders to the plaster behind him, push yourself onto his lap with a swing of your body and a slotting of your legs on either side of him. 
The plush of your thighs hugging his hips, the curves of your breasts pressed against his chest, Jisung tries to stare up at you, perplexed, aroused. But you’re so close that he can’t, so he settles with whispering upon the underside of your chin, “what are you—”
“Gimme your lemonade.”
The authoritative words come out in a slurred haze, and he all but hastens to oblige. 
You pluck the plastic bottle from his wavering grasp. His empty hand hovers as if uncertain where to go. But matters as trivial as hand placement drop off his mind’s precipice as he watches you unscrew the cap, the slope of your neck illuminated by spindly moonlight, and without thinking he pushes his hands beneath the hem of your—his—hoodie.
The skin of your waist is warm and smooth where his fingertips are cold and calloused, the juxtaposition unimportant in your reciprocal desires to touch and be touched.
“Open,” you murmur.
His jaw goes slack, firstly from pure disbelief. Then, obedience. The dark locks that obstruct his vision of you fall away as his head meets the brick half-wall behind him, as if the midnight breeze itself mandated their removal.
You pour some of the pink liquid past Jisung’s parted lips. Stray rivulets slip down his cheek and vanish beneath his neckline. You break eye contact to follow their path with dilated pupils and fluttering lashes. With unadulterated desire.
He swallows, gently, and feels the sweet substance surround his tonsils.
He swallows, forcefully, when you wrap your lips around the bottle, the plastic still slathered in his spit.
The swig you take is long, deep. Your throat bobs and your eyes close as if you’re savoring a finely-aged nectar. Then your lips are popping off the opening with a soft thwock, leaving a thick strand of saliva to suspend, suspend, suspend until the very second it’s about to drop, which is when you collect the residue with a deft swipe of your tongue.
“A placeholder,” you breathe, and Jisung’s head careens. A shared bottle. An indirect kiss.
“You’re a monster,” he croaks.
You giggle and lean down, curling a hand around his cheek, pressing a wet kiss to his Adam’s apple.
“Tomorrow, if we’re both sober…”
One, two, three pecks up the length of his jaw.
“...and you still remember my address…”
A suckle to the lobe of his ear.
“...you can kiss me, for real.”
A trembling breath.
“And then some.”
Jisung moans, loudly.
Thankfully, he remembers a few things.
He shows up at your place shortly after sunset the next day. You swing open the door, your face already alight with your world-ending smile.
“Hi.”
“Hey.”
Then he’s kissing you like a man famished.
Jisung learns to love your back, that night. He loves its dips and curves, loves its rise and fall. Loves how it arches into him, how it looks drenched in his cum. It’s the back of his dreams.
The back in his dreams keeps walking.
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Jisung has never liked winter.
He has never liked its winds, whispering woefully as if mourning something unnamed and unseen. He has never liked its palette, whitewashing the world as if refracting a rainbow in reverse.
He has never liked cracking open his eyes and seeing the scenery of his nightmare outside his window. Nor does he like trudging over the sleet as if weighed down by the same ghosts that break him time and time again in his dreamscape. They love winter. 
And this winter, he swears, is the bitterest yet. On the nights when he’s allowed to sleep, the nightmare comes in such sharp relief that he thinks he’d rather anything else, the ghosts meaner, the blood redder, the silhouette slower. It’s an act of mercy when he’s still awake by the time bleached sunlight perforates the curtains, resting upon his salted cheeks and balled fists.
This winter, it is not just dislike that he feels towards the gray winds—it’s hatred. A maelstrom of loathing so large and dark that Jisung no longer knows where it’s headed or what it’s directed to. Or who.
When winter break comes to an end, he’s probably the only person who’s happy about it.
His friends certainly aren’t, looking like a line of angry nutcrackers with their folded arms and thunderous faces standing outside Greem Cafe.
Jisung calls out a greeting as he jogs towards them, and cue the grumbling.
“What is there to smile about? Enlighten us.” That’s Hyunjin. “I have to deal with four finals and three essays in the next five days and this guy is smiling.”
“He’s accepted his fate, I reckon.” That’s Felix. “We should do the same, boys. Let ourselves down easy, y’know?”
“No, no, he’s smiling because he remembered to bring me his chem notes.” That’s Jeongin. “You did, right? Please say you did.”
Jisung is stunned into silence. “Can I not be happy to see my friends?”
“No,” Hyunjin and Felix reply in unison.
“My bad,” he sighs.
“My notes,” Jeongin repeats.
“I have them, dude. Let’s sit down first.”
The younger boy shouts an impassioned “THANK YOU” at the sky like the clouds just saved his GPA. Jisung reaches for the door to the café, then stops at the sound of Felix’s voice.
“We’re waiting on one more person.”
He turns towards the blonde with puzzled eyes. He’d been under the impression the study session would comprise just them four.
“Who?”
Felix’s response falters on his tongue when he catches sight of something in the distance, and his face changes in a way Jisung’s seen before.
“Look behind you.” Felix shuffles past him, raising his voice to shout, “yo!”
Jisung glances away from the newcomer as quickly as he sees her. It’s not until his eyes pivot to the fire hydrant across the street that he processes her identity.
In one second flat, his mind clutters full. He thinks back to that party, when all it took was the sight of your smile for him to theorize you were the most exquisite thing ever made. He thinks back to the next evening, when he kissed you and verified his hypothesis. He thinks back to what followed and would continue to follow in the few days that remained before break: entwined tongues and emblazoned hickeys, whitened knuckles and whiny praise, snapping hips and shaking bedframes.
This winter, Jisung swears, is the bitterest yet.
But seeing you, the scarf wound multiple times around your neck doing nothing to hide your gorgeous smile, feels like catching a fragment of summer in his frozen hands.
“Thank god,” Felix groans before embracing you. Collapsing on you, more like. “I’m saved.”
You reach around to pat the boy on the back, your eyes brimming with laughter. “Lower your expectations, please. I did well on one exam.”
“You aced the midterm. That automatically makes you a rocket scientist,” Felix corrects, his voice muffled into the shoulder of your coat. A few beats of silence pass. Then, “this is comfy.”
“Okay, okay, let’s go get some caffeine in you,” you giggle. “We have a lot of ground to cover today.”
Felix straightens up sleepily. And sadly. “Superb.”
Jisung hangs back as you introduce yourself to Hyunjin and Jeongin. He doesn’t even notice his growing smile until you’re standing directly in front of him and for the first time in three weeks there’s the smell of cherry blossoms in the air and a rainbow shining on his face again.
“Hi,” he offers.
“Hey,” you reply.
Hyunjin is the one to shatter the prolonged silence that follows. “Are you guys betrothed?”
Felix and Jeongin stalk into the café snickering. You and Jisung trail behind with flaming cheeks.
It takes Jisung two and a half hours to talk to you again. At that point in the afternoon, Felix is napping on the second practice test you’ve given him; Hyunjin has downed three shots of pure espresso and is currently viewing his screen with concerning intensity; Jeongin is at another table on a quiet Zoom call with his chemistry T.A., Jisung’s notes clutched to his chest like a life vest. And you’re leaning back against your seat opposite to him, scrolling through your phone in what he presumes to be a well-deserved study break. As good a time as any.
He opens up his texts with you. His fingers fly across the keyboard.
Jisung: do you have plans after this?
Your eyes stutter to the top of your screen, linger there for a moment, and lock onto Jisung’s from across the table.
He presses his lips into a thin line to suppress his smile. You let yours spill over in full form, and with it comes a soft giggle that would be worth getting his number fucking blocked just to hear one more time.
Three gray dots appear before elongating into a prompt response.
Y/N: I was gonna ask you the same thing…
He’s the one who laughs this time. Fuck, you’re cute. You’re so cute.
Jisung: can i take you to dinner? Y/N: Yes, I’d love that :) Y/N: When should we leave? Jisung: 9? Y/N: Sounds good~ Jisung: cool Jisung: it’s a date Y/N: It’s a date! Y/N: Excited 💛
With that, you put your phone face down and return to work, though your lips remain privately upturned. Jisung wants to kiss them again.
He also wants to turn you into a mess on his cock again.
Or both.
He doesn’t get much studying done after that thought surfaces.
Jisung: me too <3
When nine o’clock rolls around, you and Jisung begin cleaning up your work stations in near-perfect simultaneity. There’s confusion written all over Hyunjin’s and Jeongin’s faces as they watch you swing your backpacks over your shoulders—but Felix’s expression is a blank slate as he sips from his macchiato. Your ingenuity isn’t the only reason he invited you today.
As you make your way out of the café, your shoulders brush once, twice, and then Jisung drops his hand into the space between the two of you without uttering a word. You scoop it up in your own without missing a beat.
He steps into the freezing night feeling warm all over.
“You know what I realized?” You say as you walk towards his SUV.
“What did you realize?”
“We’ve never had a sober conversation before. Can we change that tonight?”
Jisung has broken hearts before.
There’s no euphemistic way to describe his tendency to abuse the sensitive organs, to wring them out and throw them away like irrelevant trash. To juggle and drop them with a sheepish laugh like they’re nothing more than props in a circus act.
He doesn’t do it to save himself or his partners from getting hurt or any self-ingratiating bullshit like that. It’s for himself, all for himself. All to unload his balls and his mind for fifteen blissful seconds. 
There’s blood on his hands. He never cared to wash it off.
Except you are the one asking for his heart this time around, a dash of hope in your smile as you do so, and he thinks it would be his life’s greatest honor to be discarded by you.
“Sure,” he answers.
He doesn’t even last until he’s inside the car.
Your back meets the door to the passenger’s seat, guided there by his hands on your hips. From millimeters away he watches your surprise morph into understanding, then darken into lust.
“I like when we don’t talk, though.”
It’s the most annoying thing in the world to remove so many layers in such a cramped space.
Combined, your clothing forms a tower high enough to block out the driver’s window completely. An unnecessary blockade.
The glass fogs up anyways.
“Fuck, Ji, yes, right there, oh my god.”
You have your legs spread open and the back of your neck digging into the cupholder on the door. It’s not comfortable. You’re too busy getting fucked open to care.
Jisung detaches his lips from your neck to ask, “here, baby?”
The head of his cock hits that gummy spot again, harder, sweeter. You convulse, your hand scrambling for purchase in his raven locks.
“Yes, yes, yes, don’t stop, please.”
Please. The word plays over in his fuzzy mind.
It seems saying no to you is an impossible task.
His cock slips out of you and you lament the loss of contact with a high wail.
“W-why’d—where’d you go?”
He can’t help but chuckle at how incoherent you’ve become. He cradles the back of your head with a tender hand and lowers your upper body onto the leather seat, adjusting himself to your new elevation.
“Right here, beautiful. Didn’t go anywhere—promise—” 
He expels the final word through gritted teeth as he slams into you again, and the new angle is glorious. Your bodies keen in flawless harmony. Profanities tumble from his lips in a steady stream before they turn back into syllables.
“Would never go anywhere. Would never leave without making this pretty pussy cream like it deserves—holy fucking shit, baby.”
You clench around him at his words and then he’s setting a new, relentless rhythm, rocking the whole vehicle with every hearty smack of his hips against yours, your wet walls squeezing him so dreamily he thinks he sees nirvana with every thrust.
You’re enjoying it just as much, if the bubbles of spit in the corner of your mouth are any indication, and Jisung is viciously proud to be the cause. Unbelievably lucky to feel your breasts jiggling under his chest and your nails digging into the back of his neck.
“Good?” He whispers, and you nod blissfully.
“So—good, Ji, so fucking good. Your cock is perfect, fuck, I can’t even—can’t even think.”
“You’re the perfect one. Can’t believe how well your cunt takes me, shit. It’s like it was fucking made for this.”
“It was,” you breathe, and he nearly shoots his load into you at this alone. “It was, it was—oh, god, I think—think I’m gonna come—”
“Do it,” he rasps. “Come for me. Come on this cock and it’s yours.”
“R-really?”
“Really.”
“Then, I will. I’ll come on your cock—make it mine. Need it so fucking bad, I’m so fucking close, oh—please—”
He anchors himself in place with a hand against the windowsill and the other travels down your body to rub fast, tight circles into your clit. You let out a wanton, prolonged moan, tilt your head back to expose him to your fluttering throat. And then you’re pulling his lips onto yours again, and the following kiss is sloppy beyond belief, the kind that can only antedate the happiest of endings.
“My cock,” you sigh into his mouth. “Mine.”
“Forever,” is the breathy response he doesn’t know if he means, the response he gives you anyways.
And then you curl your fingers in his hair. Clamp your teeth around his lower lip. Clench your thighs around his waist. There’s liquid everywhere. Tearwater spilling down the sides of your face. Release gushing all over his dick and pelvis and backseat.
He catches up the moment he realizes what’s just happened. Pulls out of you. Presses his head against the roof of his car. Spits on his hand. Pumps his pulsating cock. Sends himself over the edge you’ve just finished tripping over.
Eventually, he regains feeling in his limbs.
He opens his eyes, surveys the damage, and grins.
Your stomach is covered in ropes of white, your expression hidden behind your hands. You start shaking your head in profuse embarrassment the moment you feel his eyes on you.
“You squirted,” he says.
“I know,” you almost yell, and his grin erupts into a laugh.
He lowers himself back over you, takes your wrists, and removes them from your blushing face. He doesn’t think he’s seen you so flustered before and it has him palpitating in ways he never thought feasible.
Maybe he did mean the damn thing after all.
He pushes off the strands of hair clinging to your damp forehead and replaces them with a gentle kiss. “It was sexy as fuck and you’re everything.” 
There’s a certain softness in your eyes when he pulls away. He hopes, for your sake, it’s all in his head.
His car is in need of aftercare most of all. You shrug on your clothes with considerable effort and get to work, all while sharing comfortable chatter and easy laughter.
Those things persist during your dinner date at a nearby Chinese restaurant and the drive back to your place, which Jisung knows well enough to no longer need his GPS. Those things persist until he kisses you goodbye on your doorstep, because he would have to be fucking crazy not to after you gave him the best night he’s had in so long.
After you reminded him that he’s still capable of comfort and ease, in spite of it all.
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Snow comes a few weeks into the new year. 
This winter, it falls late, and it falls hard, like a gust of breath expelled from drawn lungs at the very last minute. Held there as if lying in wait for something unnamed and unseen. 
The gust of breath is too quiet to be heard over the one Jisung lets out against the shell of your ear. “Wait here.”
He goes to roll off you. You don’t let him just yet, darting your hand around his wrist and bringing his face back within centimeters of yours.
Han Jisung is beautiful. You knew it for the first time at that houseparty and you’ve known it every hour of every day since. But it’s always clearest to you in the afterglow, when his bare skin is golden and sticky and his delicate lips bitten to bright fuchsia. 
When his irises have gone black and you see stars, flaring in the absence of light.
You close the distance that remains between you. Your lips part with a content sigh. Your hands drift over the slant of his neck; his find home in the dips above your waist.
He breaks away once you’re both out of breath, and the pad of his thumb wipes lightly at your lower lip.
“Everything okay?”
“Yes,” you reply shyly. “I couldn’t help myself.”
The smile this brings to his face reminds you of a candle’s flame. Soft on the eyes and scalding to the touch when he presses it back against your lips. Once, twice.
“Can you wipe your cum off me now?” You whisper, and he laughs straight into your mouth.
The mattress lifts. His footsteps grow quieter. You shiver in his absence.
Only then do you notice the blizzard.
You stumble off the bed to throw your curtains aside. Snow descends from the sky like spools of unraveling yarn. The streetlights have been reduced to foggy specks, the parked cars to blurry heaps. Every sidewalk and rooftop in sight has already been slathered in ivory.
Jisung announces his return with a disbelieving whistle.
“Am I dreaming?” You murmur.
“When did that happen?”
“I have no idea.”
You don’t even notice the wild smile on your face until you turn to him and catch his reaction to it. He looks like he’s asking himself the same question.
“C’mere,” he hums, and you oblige.
He laves the warm towel over your breasts and stomach, as well as the places his release has trickled since you flung yourself to your feet. All while supporting the small of your back with a touch fatally careful, an expression wholly adoring. All evidence of just how blurry the line between sexual escapade and lover has become in two short months.
Your ribcage fucking throbs.
“You don’t seem excited,” you say.
He finishes cleaning you off. You give him a distracted thank you, noticing the sudden shadow draped over his face like a netted veil.
“I’m not,” he answers, not unkindly.
“You don’t like snow?”
“Not really.”
“Why?”
He circles around the bed to get dressed. You bend to pick up the clothes tossed aside earlier and drop them into your hamper, then slip into a clean pair of underwear and sweatpants.
“It’s a long story.”
Just as you reach for a top, a bundle of cloth travels in an arc across your bedroom and hooks itself around the crook of your arm. His T-shirt. 
You glance at Jisung. He’s already looking elsewhere, but his private smile makes its way onto your face as you slip it on.
“Well, I have time.” You sink into your mattress, now surrounded by his muted musk, his papyrus and petrichor. “We’ll be stuck here a while, after all.”
“Stuck?” Jisung repeats, the lanyard of his car keys dangling from the pocket of his hoodie, his feet turned towards the door.
A pregnant pause commences. His intentions dawn, and you gape.
“You’re not driving right now.”
He breaks eye contact.
“Right?”
That was the plan, you read in his expression.
You know better than trying to reverse a river’s current by kicking up rocks. You know better than trying to curtail the flight of an albatross by clipping its wings.
You know better than asking someone who thinks he was made to leave to stay.
And you won’t.
“I have somewhere to be early tomorrow morning,” he stammers, the lines terribly rehearsed. “The snow’s not heavy, I’ll be—”
“Stay.”
You’re not asking.
Jisung looks at you, startled, as you glide across the bed. You place your feet on the hardwood and circle your arms around his waist. Lace your fingers upon the hollow of his back. His pulse goes uneven at your abrupt proximity.
Akin to the drag of a feather, you mouth at his cheek, then the side of his neck.
“You can stay, Jisung.”
He shudders at your words, and you’ve got him.
It’s oddly normal, the sight of him clambering into your bed in your clothing—a pair of old sweatpants and your favorite crewneck—like this isn’t the first time you’re sleeping together in your two months of sleeping together.
In fact, the only indication of anything unordinary is the floaty feeling in your stomach when your head hits the pillow and discover Jisung’s face only inches away. He drapes an arm over your waist, gathering you close. You nuzzle into the crook of his neck.
The inevitable question follows.
“Can I save the story for another time?”
“Sure,” you return, keeping your voice small. He doesn’t hear your disappointment this way. “Should we go to sleep, then?”
“We should.”
Your foreheads touch. Your noses bump together. Your eyes cross, watching the adoration pull at his. You dimly register your hand threading in his fluffy locks, his thumb running over your cheekbone. Your lashes narrowly miss the surface of his eyes, and then he tips your face up by millimeters.
You don’t remember when you fall asleep. You only recall the hour beforehand that you spend with Jisung’s lips traversing yours, like you are the ocean and he’s uncovering new waters with every bruise he prints against your throat, every suckle he leaves around your tongue.
In your dream, the roles reverse and you are the one exploring him, mapping out his constellations with wide-eyed wonder.
You wake to a black hole.
For the first five seconds, you see nothing. You hear nothing. You feel nothing. You only blink in the darkness, your mind kicking into groggy gear to ask the very good question of why you’re conscious again.
Instinct moves your hand across the mattress. Empty space greets you where Jisung should be. Unfounded dread shoves your back off the bed. You gasp, the sound seeming to echo in the cavernous silence.
Your eyes adjust enough to discern light in the crack beneath your door, and you’re wide awake.
The following events go by in a blur. You stumble out of bed and into your closet, fastening your fingers around the thickest piece of fabric you find. You fly into the living room, where the lamp by the couch is left on and the pair of worn black Converse on your doormat have gone missing.
The front door is cracked open, and through the narrow inches you spot someone hunched on the stairs outside, his dark hair dyed platinum by the awning light’s fluorescence.
Your heart stills in relief, then quickens with anxiety.
You’ve tried wearing this crewneck in January enough times to know you can’t. In fact, you suspect that it somehow soaks up the temperature, lets it seep in between its every seam until it becomes one with the bitter winds. 
But he isn’t shivering, you notice as you take a seat next to him, draping the puffer over both of your shoulders on your way down. He’s simply staring off into the bleak storm, snowflakes sitting atop his head like a coating of ash, their color matching that of his frozen skin. He’s becoming one with the bitter winds. 
At first, you don’t recognize the man in front of you.
You’re well familiar with those ring-laden hands and the whetted jawline thrown into shadow, those remnants of cologne clinging to his frame. But you have never seen that gaze before, bloodshot and bleak and belonging to somebody new. Somebody who isn’t completely here, straddling the partition between the realms of people and phantoms.
Then he lifts his eyes and you see stars, flaring in the absence of light. Your stars.
And you recognize him for the first time ever.
You drop your hand to your hip, and his fingers feel stiff and cold and perfect, sliding into the spaces between yours.
“Why don’t you like snow?” You ask.
Jisung’s eyes return to the swirling sleet, but he moves your interlocked hands to rest on his thigh, and you know that he’s with you.
He’s been having this nightmare.
It takes place in a small clearing. It’s winter, and everything is covered in snow. Not the gentle kind that you can catch on your tongue, but the unyielding kind that’s hard and dense and covered in cracks, like a lake newly frozen over.
Somebody is in front of him, walking away. He can only see their back. He wants to chase after them. He doesn’t want to be left behind. But there are ghosts nearby, and they’ll split his skull open on the permafrost and tie his windpipe into a pretty bow if he so much as dreams of pursuit. He always does. He doesn’t know how not to.
Normally, the back leaves, and he can do nothing but remain. He can direct his loathing only to the snow into which he bleeds. 
Normally, he waits for the dream to end with something bordering on boredom. He’s seen this movie too many times. He fucking hates how it ends.
This time, though, the snow tastes like something.
After the flavors deliquesce upon his tongue, his head shoots up, his eyes blowing wide as they latch onto the retreating figure. He knows who it is.
His feet scrabbles against the ice with his attempts to rise to them. He lunges forward with frenzied resolve, and that is when the ghosts snap his neck.
He wakes up.
“Cherry blossoms and vanilla.”
You blink, tearwater streaking from your eyes in silent, steaming trails.
“That’s—”
My shampoo.
A broken sob escapes you in lieu of the rest of your sentence, and Jisung laughs, a flimsy facade that crumbles when he lifts his hand to dab at your moistened cheeks and it’s trembling.
“Silly,” he murmurs. “I’m used to it now.”
“I don’t want you to be.”
“I don’t want you to cry for me.”
“You died.”
“And I would do it again.”
This response comes without an shred of hesitation.
You first realized you had something to confess, that night in the the back of Jisung’s SUV. You’ve kept it locked away for your sake and his, even moreso. You see how fear clings to him like an unshakeable wraith, and you refuse to feed the parasite.
Now, your confession explodes from its fortress in the center of your soul and rises up your larynx. You panic like an inept security guard letting their only prisoner bolt free. Is it really the right time? Do you know what to say? Have you really thought this through? 
Too late. It’s rushing to the point of your tongue already. You suppose you’ll find out.
He saves you the trouble.
“Honestly?”
Your confession stills. 
“I don’t know if I’m okay, and I won’t try to convince you otherwise. You’d call my bluff. You’re good at that.
“But everything feels okay when I’m with you. You see me. You allow me just to exist as I am. You make me feel human again—you make me want to feel human again. You empty my mind.”
You feel as if you’ve been ejected into space naked, griping for air where there is none.
“I never believed in having somebody to lose,” he utters, gently leaning his forehead against yours. “But I would rather disappear than watch you go.”
You cradle his jaw with shaking fingers, trying and failing to quell the violence of your emotion.
“Don’t go,” he exhales.
You kiss him.
It should feel the same as before. You reach for the slant of his neck, him the dips above your waist. You sigh into him, parting your lips, and he moves into you deeper, harder, dipping into your mouth with his tongue’s pliant swipe. But there’s something new in the way you hold each other, in the seal of your mouth against his.
The line between sexual escapade and lover vanishes as if swept off the sand and into the sea. His stars come out of hiding at last and they bathe you in their residue, light your heart aglow.
Your confession resurfaces. It wants to stargaze also.
“I love you too,” you breathe.
The night comes and goes.
The two of you spend it entangling, sweating, your lips glued the expanse of his neck and the arcs of his shoulders, writing over the ghosts’ injuries with bruises of your making.
Only when the winds have faltered outside do you attempt to rest again. You are curled up in balmy bliss, utterly depleted. Jisung’s arms around your middle and legs threaded among yours bring you that much closer to slumber’s cusp.
You attribute it to your exhaustion when he mumbles something against you, and you have no idea what it means: “Thank you for refracting me.” 
Your confusion is palpable in your silence. His laugh hits the nape of your neck with a gentle puff, and he kisses the spot just beneath your ear. “Never mind.”
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simplylupin · 19 days
Text
Vertigo and Eddie Diaz
because the connection has been made between eddie's current arc and hitchcock's vertigo, i thought i'd give my two cents on the topic as a mediocre film student whose had to study vertigo for two years of her life
so here's a basic (very over-simplified) summary of vertigo for those who are unfamiliar
The protagonist, Scottie, is a policeman who took a break/was discharged/retired because he couldn't save a fellow police officer from falling off a building to his death
Because of this he suffers from vertigo and/or fear of heights
He's hired by his old friend Gavin to follow Gavin's wife, Madeline, for fear that she's been possessed by someone called Carlotta Valdez
He does so, and slowly falls in love with Madeline - and her him
We also learn that Scottie's best friend Midge is in love with him, but he's too obsessed with Madeline to notice Midge
Him and Madeline go to a church bell tower where Madeline seemingly offs herself by jumping off
Some time later, Scottie goes to Madeline's old hotel room, and finds a woman called Judy who looks exactly like Madeline
She agrees to go on a date with him
We, the audience, find out that Judy actually is Madeline (and vise versa). She was hired by Gavin to pretend to be Madeline.
Scottie grows more and more obsessed, forcing Judy to change her appearance to look like Madeline
He makes the connection that Madeline and Judy are the same person, and drives her to the bell tower
He forces her up the tower, over coming his fear of heights
Once at the top, they have a confrontation
A nun appears, scaring Judy and she once more falls to her death (really this time)
So, from what I've gathered, the loose connection between characters is:
Scottie = Eddie
Madeline = Shannon
Midge = Buck
Judy = Kim
The Nun = Marisol
Scottie's unable to save his fellow police officer. Eddie was unable to 'save' the people he pulled out the helicopter: "I pulled them out. But I didn't save them." Because of this he suffers from immense guilt and PTSD (as seen in his season 5 arc). He's unable to move on and this hinders him to a certain extent - just like Scottie.
After Shannon's death, he's thrown through the loop again, with the added bonus of him not having been able to save her too. Scottie's job was to save Madeline, and he failed at that, resulting in her 'death'.
Eddie is constantly trying to find a woman to fill that role of Shannon in his and Christopher's life; we see this with both Ana and now Marisol. He's looking for her in them. Scottie does the same - he visits the places he went with Madeline, he goes to her old room.
Eddie finds Kim, Scottie finds Judy.
For a little while, Judy helps Scottie get over and get closure on Madeline. She fills that empty space and allows him to move on. This is what I think Kim is going to do for Eddie.
She looks so much like Shannon but she simply isn't her. We know in later episodes that Buck is going to meet her and proclaim that she's "nothing like Shannon." There's a clear distinction there - Eddie is only seeing Shannon in her because he wants to, because he's still holding onto that idea. I think Kim is going to be the closing point of this ongoing search for Shannon's 'replacement'; someone who looks exactly like Shannon should be perfect, right? But when she too doesn't 'fill' that role that surely must spark some sort of realisation in Eddie, because if not her then who.
For Scottie, he feels betrayed by Judy. He brings her to the last place he saw Madeline, and ultimately, indirectly, causes her death. Obviously I don't believe Kim is actually going to die, but more the idea of her. She's the final chapter of him pursuing Shannon's ghost.
Midge is Scottie's best friend. They met in college and were engaged for a few weeks before breaking up. They spend a lot of time together, staying at each other's houses and going out. She helps Scottie through his vertigo and acrophobia, and tries to 'bring him back' in his grief. At one point, Midge paints her face onto a painting of Carlotta Valdez, showing that she's there and ready for Scottie's love, if he's willing to give it to her.
I believe, in this scenario, Buck takes on her role (for seemingly obvious reasons). Him and Eddie are best friends, they do so much together, he helps Eddie when he's struggling etc etc. Midge is the idea of the 'other woman', someone who is right in front of Scottie's eyes, someone whose always been there for him. However, Scottie is too obsessed and fixated on Madeline that he can't see this and continually brushes it away. You see where I'm going here...
Although Buck potentially doesn't even realize it himself, he has taken on Shannon's role in the Diaz family for years. Eddie already has the 'replacement' for Shannon that he's so desperately been searching for right in front of his eyes.
In Vertigo, Judy and Madeline are the same person, whereas Shannon and Kim are obviously not. However, the comparison still stands.
Scottie meets Judy and immedietely latches onto her because she looks so much like Madeline (duh) and he is so desperate for anything that'll keep Madeline's memory with him. He makes her undergo a series of phsyical changes (dyeing her hair, changing her wardrobe, her style etc etc) so that she appears more like Madeline - so he can get that closure and pretend.
Eddie clearly isn't going to do this to Kim. However, whatever way you spin it, he is projecting Shannon onto her. He saw her, and thought of Shannon, he pursued her because of that, he's doing all this because of Shannon. He is chasing that closure and that moment were he can be like 'Ah. I've finally found someone who can be Shannon for me and Chris.'
I doubt Kim is going to be around particularly long. As much as it sounds diminishing, she really is just a tool for Eddie to have this realization that nobody can replace Shannon, and that that's okay. He doesn't need to find Shannon 2.0.
Now, in Vertigo, when Scottie and Judy are arguing on the bell tower, a nun appears from the shadows and startles them - causing Judy to fall to her death. It's a very abrupt and out of nowhere.
The character of the nun, I think could represent either one of two things. Marisol, as we know, used to be a nun (i'm still not over this btw). That's a pretty straight-forward, clear cut comparison. The nun causes Judy to die, Marisol causes 'Shannon', and the idea of Shannon, to 'die'. This interpretation leans more heavily on Marisol and Eddie staying together, however, so I'm not sure.
The nun could also just represent religion as a whole, and Eddie's Catholic guilt particularly. Eddie tells Bobby that he only really married Shannon because he felt like he had to, he felt pressured into it because of his religious guilt. Despite this, "There was still a part of me that loved being married to her."
There's no doubt in my mind that Eddie loved Shannon. He did, they loved each other, and he still does love her - he always will. I do think that the choice of focussing on his marriage to her and how he "loved being married to her" is interesting though, he doesn't try to clarify that he was in love with her. This could just be because it's a given orrr
Whatever, not really the point.
The point is, the fact he's now "awakened" his Catholic guilt by finding out Marisol was a nun, must mean something for his upcoming arc. In Vertigo, the nun kills Judy. Here, his religious guilt 'kills' the idea of Shannon??
I'll definitely have more ideas about this later but this was my word vomit for now! Let me know what you think please.
(Also something I find funny is that the actress of Madeline/Judy is called Kim!)
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peachesofteal · 3 months
Text
Dead Disco / Chapter 13
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Ghost/Soap/female reader 2.2k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ brief sexual content. This fic contains mature themes. Simon POV. Established throuple, relationship issues, fighting. Feelings of anxiety, despair. Crying. Johnny comes home
The holster is snug.
Simon pats it affectionately, swallowing roaring nausea, trying to stay limber on his feet.
He’s fine. He’s probably just at the gym, or the down the street. He’s a big boy, he can take care of himself, he's working himself up for nothing. 
He sends another text, just in case.
>Getting worried now. Where are you? 
It’s not like him, not responding. Not like him to vanish when he said he was staying in, not like him to not text with an update about where he’s going and how long he’ll be.
He knows Simon. Knows he he’ll get twisted up, get caught up in a vicious cycle of memory and fear, knows he’ll be worried.
Doesn’t he know? 
It’s not like him.
What if he’s hurt? What if someone snatched him, drugged him, loaded him into a box somewhere? What if someone is hurting him right now, and he’s scared, while all Simon is doing is pacing around in this godforsaken flat that’s too big for him to be comfortable in alone, what if he’s de-
A key clicks in the lock.
Simon is on his feet and in the hall before the door gets a chance to fully open.
He can hear his pulse, the hammer inside his skull, ticking away like a bomb, a new brand of fear: sickly and infectious, spreads from his heart, leeching into his body.
Johnny is crying.
“What’s wrong?” Simon keeps him at arm’s length for inspection, like he's looking him over in tac gear, triple checking his plates, his straps, his safety pieces. “Are you hurt? What’s happened?” Johnny doesn’t speak, raw, serrated breaths coming in and out too quickly, and Simon holds him steady, firm grip on his shoulders. “Johnny, love. Look at me.”
Control this. Contain it. Fix it. 
“I-m- I-“ The words are stilted, too thick, getting caught in Johnny’s throat, and Simon repeats himself, switching gears, shifting. His tone is stronger, unaffected. Battle tested.
“Are you hurt?” It straightens Johnny. Snaps him to attention, and he blinks, still the beautiful, sweet boy with tears in his eyes, looking up in Simon’s face, wracked with despair.
“No. No, ‘m, not hurt, Si. Not hurt.”
Not hurt. But not okay. 
He can save that for another moment. Another day if he has to. He’s okay. He came back. He’s here. 
Johnny’s eyes dive a deeper shade of blue when he cries. They become shards of stained glass, a sea blue that holds a million miles worth of passion, of feeling, of love.
Their mouths touch. Seeking, hesitant longing, desperately trying to connect, and Simon jerks away, cradling his face, holding him still.
It’s dread that fills Simon now. Dread and fear, snaking together to form a hydra that never sleeps, never dies. You cut off one head, another two emerge, and he cannot control them. Cannot tamp them down.
“What’s happened, love? What’s wrong?”
“Si, I… I made a mistake.” Simon closes his eyes.
“What did you do?” It’s not a question, it’s a demand.
Confess your sins and be forgiven. 
“I went to see her.”
It’s worse than what he was expecting. Far worse.
He splits in two.
“You what?” The words sound far less devastated than he feels. “You… what?”
“I went, I know I wasnae supposed to, but I had to see her.” Simon steps away. He releases his partner, the man he loves, and looks at him through the eyes of a stranger. “I havnae been sleepin’ I cannae eat, or focus, and I know ye’ve been havin’ an easier time-“
“Stop.” An easier time? Is he really that blind? “You think this has been easy for me?”
“N-no, I didnae mean-“
“You think I’m alright, when our girl…” He bites his tongue.
Control.
“I’m not having an easier time, Johnny.”
“I made a mistake.” He whispers to the floor, and sympathy, love, cracks Simon’s heart, just a little. He’s been having such a rough go, Simon knows. Struggling. Depressed. And nothing can fix it, not Simon or anything else in this world except… you.
He reaches, but Johnny steps out of his grasp, eyes wide.
“I… I made a mistake, Si.”
“I know, but it’s okay, we can-“
“We had sex.”
Everything changes. The floor disappears beneath his feet. His knees go weak, watery, and he steps away. A chainsaw tears through his diaphragm, blood and guts dropping to the floor.
“You what?” 
“I didnae plan to, it just… it just happened.” Simon closes his eyes. He struggles for air, a thousand pounds sat on his chest. “She was cryin’ and then we just… we lost control. I didnae even realize what was happening at first, and then she asked me to kiss her and I couldnae say no, Si. Ye know I… it just-“
“Stop.”
“She needed me, needs us, wanted to, and I-“
“STOP!” He shouts, and Johnny jerks back, eyes wide.
“Simon.” He reaches, but it’s too late. Simon is already stepping out of reach. An ocean of despair, sadness, rage tosses him in a turbulent wave, knocking him side to side, stealing his breath. Agony wails between his ears.
“Don’t touch me right now.” How could he do this? Betray you like this? When you’re vulnerable? 
He knows why. His next words are a poison barb, aimed straight at the heart of the man he loves.
“You’re weak.”
“Si.” Johnny’s voice cracks, face soaked with tears. He calls his name again and again, but Simon hears nothing, broken vibrato bouncing off his back as he turns away, locking himself in the bedroom.
“So, you want to do this. For real.” You’re so skeptical. Still. A battle never won but fought every day. You chew on your lip, hesitance heavy in your eyes. “With me.” 
“Aye, darling. With ye.” Johnny sucks a mark into your neck, hands roaming across your chest. You wriggle between them, uneasily laughing, huffing and pushing at him, still overstimulated and coming down from too many orgasms to count. They pushed you to the limit tonight, twisted you between them and bent you under their bodies, filled you at the same time. He can still feel the clench of your cunt around his cock, your warmth engulfing him, setting him aflame. “Is it so hard to believe?” 
“Yes.” Your answer is immediate, and Johnny rolls his eyes. You glance at Simon. 
He wants to rip away all your layers. Burrow between your heart and ribs. Remake you in an image of love, help you feel confident in their affection, their near obsession with you. 
“We know it will take time.” He murmurs, stroking a hand across the back of your neck when you push up onto your elbows. “We know this is a lot, and it won’t be easy, but we can make it work. If you give us a chance.” Tears line your lashes. You try to look away, but he holds you steady, refusing to let you hide.
“I’m scared.” You whisper. 
“I know.”
He thinks about calling you. What’s a phone call, in the face of such a boundary broken already? He wonders for a moment, if you’re okay, before his stomach tightens, realizing that Johnny left you there, alone.
Did you tell him to leave? Did he run home afterwards, worried? Did he hold you, make sure you’re okay, kiss you and tell you how much they love you?
He aches for violence. Wants to destroy this room, it’s walls, this place they tried to build around you.
The bed is too big now. The flat is empty. He feels the hollowness left in your wake everywhere, in the bathroom, missing your shampoo and toothbrush, the closet, lacking most of your clothes. The comforter has been replaced with a tired bedsheet and a blanket from the couch, a quarter of the pillows that are usually piled in the middle, missing.
It’s not his home. Not without you.
He eyes his phone.
He shouldn’t. 
Why is he being punished, for doing the right thing? For listening to you, when you begged them to understand this is what you needed. Why is he the one in hell, when Johnny gets to drink his fill? 
He doesn’t understand. How could he have gotten this so wrong? 
Is this what you wanted all along? For them to come, pluck you from your escape back into their arms? 
He looks at his phone again. The black screen taunts him, begs him, tells him it’s alright. It will be okay if he does it. If he breaks.
What kind of man is he, if he can’t respect what you need? 
Johnny knocks on the door.
“Ye cannae shut me out.” It’s reminiscent of not too long ago, when Simon was on the other side of a different door, begging to see your face, dying to hear your voice.
“Johnny.” He croaks. His own cheeks are wet now, tears dripping down his jaw to his shirt.
“Simon, please.”
“I can’t see you right now.”
“I cannae let ye-“
“If you love me,” He raises his voice, not quite a shout, but something awful instead, a low pitch of anger. “You’ll leave me alone.” He can’t even look at him right now, can’t understand why he did this. Why he acted so callously, so selfishly. Simon hates himself, for thinking it, for allowing this anger to fester but he can’t feel anything else when he thinks about his sweet boy on the other side of that door, crying out for him. He’s so angry. He reaches for his phone. The impulse is too strong, the pain and want and the fear of not knowing if you’re okay eating away at him until he’s tapping your contact open.
The phone rings three times. On the fourth, the line clicks open, and he holds his breath.
“Simon?” You’re crying. It’s in your voice, thick with it, trembling across the connection with an intensity that could crack the earth.
“Darling.”
“It’s not ideal-“ 
“Not ideal? It’s… it’s about to be Christmas.” You take a ragged breath, and Simon’s heart aches. “You just got home.” 
“Ah know love, but we cannae control when we’re needed. Ye know this.” 
“We’ll try to be home before Christmas.” He has to stem this bleeding somehow, patch this wound. He wants to take you in his arms, bury his face in your hair and promise you a million things he knows he can’t. 
“It’s fine.” It’s not. And neither are you. But you’re shoving it away, pushing it down where it will stay buried, building and building inside you like a storm, a wild thing that will drive you to the brink. 
“Darling.” He tries to grab you, hold onto you, make you stay near him, where he can hold you, where he can try to fix it. 
It’s not fair. None of it is. And never will be. Not for you. 
“I’m fine.” 
“We don’t want to be away from you, you know that.” You focus on the dishwasher, but your hands tremble, small tremors that signify an earthquake on the horizon. 
“I know. It’s fine.” 
“Darling.” You ignore him, focusing on the silverware draw, tugging on the handle. “Darling, please.” 
Johnny flinches when it crashes to the floor. There’s agony in your face, pain and disappointment, and he hates himself for it, hates this job, hates this life they brought you into. 
You break with a sob. 
“Fuck! Fff-fuck. I’m so-sorry.” You try to turn away, to run, but he meets you, pulling you into his chest, reaching for the back of your neck with a steady hand. You’re crying so hard he’s worried you can’t breathe. 
“It’s alright. You’re alright. We’re here.” For now. We’re here for now. He can’t give you much more, even though he’d give you both the world. You and Johnny, tucked away in secret, forever his. To hold. To love. “It’s okay, darling.” You cry and cry, sobs shaking your shoulders. 
It’s not going to end on its own. And why should it? They’re the ones who do this to you. They are the ones who have to fix it. 
Control it. 
“Bedroom lights.” He directs Johnny with a glance. 
“Rog.”
“The mess.” You whimper, and he shakes his head, still holding you firmly.
“We’ll clean it up later, darling. Let’s take care of you first.”
“I’m sorry… I’m sorry I’m calling.” He’s spiraling. Unmoored. Uncontrolled.
“It’s… it’s okay.” You stifle a sob, and he wants to rip his hair from his roots.
“Are you okay? That’s all…” He pulls away from the phone to take a short breath, trying to breathe through his nose. “That’s all I needed to know, if you’re okay.”
“I’m…” You go quiet, and he doesn’t push. Doesn’t want to. He goes at your pace, letting you control everything now, just as he has been for this last month. “I’m not okay.”
His heart freezes in his chest.
“Did you call your therapist?”
“No.” You cry, and he pinches his brow.
“What do you need?” The pattern on the carpet is a dizzying spiral, swirls of brown and tan spinning around him, drawing him down until he’s sitting with his back against the bed. When you don’t speak, he tries, just a little, to pull it from you. “Tell me darling.”
Y-you. I need… you.”
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soapsbaby · 11 months
Text
Bunch of Deviants II
Summary: Second part of me assigning a k!nk to each of the 141 + Alejandro, Rudy, Graves, König and Valeria that I could imagine them having. You can find part one here. Enjoy!
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Characters: Simon "Ghost" Riley, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, König, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, John Price, Phillip Graves, Alejandro Vargas, Rudy Parras, Valeria Garza, all x reader
Rating: NSFW (minors DNI)
Warnings: Choking, Primal Kink, Free Use, Degradation
Word Count: 1.3k-ish
Ghost - Primal
He loves the thrill of hunting you down. Even though you of course know that it's just him, the panic you feel when he catches you is genuine. The way he towers over you, eyes cold except for the sense of victory in them that he caught you and that you are now his to deal with whatever he wants to.
Usually he just takes you right where he catches you, ripping your clothes from your body and fucking you, pinning you down and just holding you in whichever position he needs you in.
He will be so humiliating and degrading, oh, you should run faster next time, are you actually enjoying this? you really are a needy little slut.
After he has come and you are all fucked out he will hold you, just pressing you to his chest until your heartbeat returns to a normal pace.
Soap - Receiving Nudes at Work
He loves when you rile him up through the entire day, sending him pictures, videos or voice messages, telling him how badly you want him, how you need him, how you've been touching yourself all day but it just doesn't compare to when he does it.
He won't be able to think straight until he's finally back home with you and gets to actually fuck you, working off the frustration you put him through.
Usually he just has to get himself off as quickly as possible, fucking you desperately, but he isn't done just because he came. Usually he'll take his time afterwards to eat you out for as long as you can take.
He also makes sure to save all of the messages so he can go through them later, especially on long missions with bad internet reception where it is all he can use to get himself off.
Price - Watching you Touch yourself
He loves watching you touch yourself for him. It started once when he walked in on you and instead of joining in, he just sat down on the foot of the bed, telling you to keep going even though your first reaction was to cover yourself with your blanket.
He loves the way he can read your body, can tell when you are getting closer, those little whines when you push yourself right up to the edge. He knows you too well.
He loves watching you come for him while he strokes himself. You look so beautiful when you do and he takes in every aspect of you, the way your eyelids flutter shut, your legs shaking and your mouth falling open, his name spilling over your lips.
His favorite part is when he finally gets to fuck you for round two, you are so wet after you've come once already and you are so whiny and sensitive.
Gaz - Free Use
Free use goes both ways for you. Especially if you have longer periods of vacation times where you can stay home you will fuck wherever and whenever. Whether it is you walking in while he plays video games and sucking him off while he tries to not let the people on voice chat know or him pushing up your dress while you are working in the kitchen to fuck you from behind, you love being available for each other.
For convenience you both usually don't wear much clothes at home anyways and you also sleep naked.
Of course you both know that you can deny favors to one another if you are not feeling up to it, but neither of you really ever do. Each other's pleasure is enough motivation.
König - Thigh Riding
Having you ride his thigh is one of his favorite things, he loves the way it gives him close to no physical stimulation so he can focus completely on you without any distractions.
He loves the desperation in your eyes when you drag yourself across him, grinding your hips against his leg because it's the only thing he'll let you have if he's feeling strict.
Sometimes, when you are already overstimulated he will grab you by the hips and make you grind down even harder and faster, feasting on your whimpers.
It's one of his favorite ways to make you come, the way your movements stutter and he has to grab you to hold you upright, whispering sweet praise into your ears.
Graves - Pegging
It took him so, so long to admit to you that he wanted you to peg him. He was terrified that you would reject him or even be weirded out by his request. He didn't want to make you feel any different about him.
Of course you didn't, and you both loved it from the first time you tried it out. Everything about his reaction to being fucked refuses to leave your mind, the way his body just seemed to melt into the sheets, legs refusing to support him, hands tangled in the sheets for some form of support.
You have never heard him moan the way he does every time you peg him, his mind just immediately turns into putty and all of his dirty thoughts just spill out, begging for you to go harder.
Will usually be able to come hands free if you take your time with him.
Alejandro - Degradation
He loves you more than anything in the world and he respects and adores you, but there is just something about treating you like a dirty whore that gets him going like nothing else.
He loves making you give him sloppy blowjobs and making you drool all over him, he loves bending you over whichever surface is closest to you and just taking you then and there.
He loves treating you like you are property, like you're a toy he gets to use to get himself off, pushing you into whichever position he wants you in.
He doesn't let go until you have come at least a few times, his favorite is when you come around his cock, the way you clench around him and that sweet, overwhelmed look in your eyes drives him insane.
He will always make sure afterwards that you are okay and that you know that none of the ways he treated you reflect how he actually feels about you and that you know how much he loves and appreciates you.
Rudy - Choking
The majority of the time there is no clear dom-sub relationship between the two of you, however, he adores you choking him.
His favorite position is when you are riding him and then wrap your hands around his throat, just tight enough to make him a little dizzy.
He'll beg for you to kiss him, take away even more of his ability to breathe.
He comes so hard being choked, almost passing out and whimpering for you to go harder on him.
Valeria - Strap-Ons
It doesn't matter what your gender is, if you let her, she'll use her strap on you.
She almost sees it as an extension of herself, she adores seeing you on your knees and making you suck the strap, praising and degrading you at the same time as she fucks your throat as deeply as you can take it, "such a pretty slut, so needy for my cock, aren't you?"
She fucks you like she wants you to never be able to walk again, rough and deep, long deep strokes. If the position allows it she'll also use her hands on you, circling your most sensitive spots with her thumb and taking pleasure in your desperate, whiny moans.
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roosterr · 11 months
Text
white flag ✹ ch 2
note: thank you all again for the support on this series im seriously so grateful <3 not sure how to feel abt this part but pls enjoy anyway <3
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pairing: ghost x gn!reader
wc: 3.0k
no use of y/n readers callsign is 'stingray'
summary: the gang goes out to the pub, and against your better judgement you decide to tag along. you end up having far too much to drink and ghost has no choice but to look after you.
warnings: ghost is less mean (but it's still ghost), the usual angst, hurt/comfort, arguing, some ambiguous drunken confessions, mentions of throwing up but i kinda skipped over it
ao3
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the relentless buzzing of your phone next to your head wakes you from your slumber. you groan, squinting at the screen to see soap's name on the caller id. you answer and lift the phone up to your ear, rubbing your eyes with the other hand as you pull yourself up to sit.
"hey! where are you?" soap's voice is almost deafening in your ear as soon as you pick up, you have to hold the phone away from you to save your hearing. "y'are still comin', right?" the faint noise of a crowd can be heard in the background, reminding you of what soap's question means.
you check the clock on your phone and wince at the time; it was almost nine, and you were supposed to meet them at the pub at eight.
"ugh," you clear your throat, your voice croaking from having just woken up, "yeah– yeah, i'm coming. just gimme, like, fifteen minutes."
"awright, l.t. said you was still asleep," soap chuckles, clearly amused by your sleep-addled state. you sit up and throw the blankets off your legs, swinging them over the side of the thin mattress and beginning the search for some clean clothes.
you hadn't gotten out of bed all day, opting to stay in your comfy pyjamas and barely leaving the living room except to briefly eat and use the bathroom. after the the disaster that was yesterday, you felt you deserved to have a lazy day for once.
"oh, so he already left without me? why am i not surprised?" you grumble, balancing your phone between your cheek and your shoulder as you pull on some trousers.
"he said he didn't wanna wake you!" soap is half laughing as he replies. you have to hold back your scoff as you put him on speaker and drop the phone onto the coffee table as you quickly put your shirt on.
"yeah, okay." your voice is dripping with sarcasm, and you can't help but roll your eyes, even though he can't see it, "i'll be there, hanging up now, buh-bye."
you just about hear his muffled 'bye!' before you press the red button and shove your phone into your pocket. 
you really didn't feel like being social right now, but maybe being around your friends and letting go is what you need right now. you could just ignore ghost – it's not like it'd be hard, you were fully expecting him to completely avoid you all night. knowing him, he'd probably make you walk home by yourself again.
the walk to the pub is uneventful, thankfully dry, and it takes you twenty minutes instead of fifteen. you feel a little bad for making them wait, but they've been there over an hour already, an extra five wouldn't hurt.
the noise of the crowd hits you as soon as you walk into the old building, and you hope it isn't noticeable the way you frown at the sight of how packed it was. you were feeling even less like socialising now that you were actually here, but it was too late to turn back now. your eyes scan the room, searching for your teammates in the sea of people. you spot a familiar mohawk fairly quickly, and begin pushing your way through the crowd to the booth he and gaz are occupying.
you glance towards the bar and price and ghost both there, too locked in conversation to notice your arrival. you'd have to find price later to say hello.
"sting, you made it!" soap's cheery voice brings you back to the present. he pats your shoulder as you slump into the seat next to him, and gaz slides your usual order across the table to you.
"ordered for you a minute ago." gaz smiles, leaning forward on his elbows, "figured you could use it."
"you're legend, gaz, honestly." you chuckle in response, taking a drawn out sip and relaxing in your seat. as much as you would rather still be in bed right now, you couldn't deny you needed it.
"you okay? you look a bit worse for wear." gaz asks, his gaze turning serious as he takes in your exhaustion.
did you? you hadn't actually looked at your reflection before you left the house, you simply hoped that you didn't look too dishevelled and didn't think twice about it. you suppose the bags under your eyes must be quite heavy after the nosedive your life seems to have taken lately.
"charming, thanks for that." you mutter, teasingly raising your brows at him as you take another sip of your drink.
"sorry, sorry," he and soap both laugh, before he regards you with a more concerned look, "but seriously, you doin' alright?"
"i'm fine, just tired, you know how it is." you dismiss his question with a wave of your hand, hoping he'll drop the subject and you can get started on forgetting about the events of this week. "sorry for being late, by the way."
"make it up to us with another round?" soap wiggles an eyebrow at you, tilting his empty glass at you and nudging your arm. 
"since you asked so nicely," you say with a lighthearted roll of your eyes. they both give you a triumphant 'thanks!' as you slide out of the booth and begin making your way through the crowds of people to the bar.
as you approach, you see ghost standing by himself at the bar, a black surgical mask cover the lower half of his face, and before you can stop yourself your legs are already leading you to the empty spot next to him. as usual he doesn't acknowledge you, but you can't find it in yourself to care through the buzz of the alcohol in your system.
you flag down the bartender and order the drinks for the three of you while adamantly trying to ignore the large presence next to you; you'd barely started on your first drink, but you were going to need more than that to get through this, especially if you and ghost were going to be dancing around each other all night.
the next couple of hours are filled with you downing drink after drink, steadily becoming less and less intelligible as the night progresses. at some point gaz excused himself to go chat with price at the bar, leaving just you and soap at the table. though you couldn't see ghost when you looked over, you had no doubt he was lurking in some shadowy corner somewhere, just watching.
"he's just so…" you wave your hands around, willing johnny to somehow understand your point as the words escape you, "...y'know?"
"do i know?" he laughs, obviously very amused by your drunken state.
"mean! he's rude and uncooperative, and it pisses me off." you groan, pressing your fingers into your temples. venting to someone about ghost was somewhat cathartic for you, even if that someone was his closest friend.
"aye, that's not how you really feel though, is it?" soap raises his brow, that insufferably teasing smirk on his lips as he gives you a light nudge.
"wha–" you gawk, freezing in the motion of downing your drink – you'd lost count of how many you'd had at this point. you narrow your eyes and glare at him, "garrick… he grassed didn't he?"
"you think i needed him to tell me?" soap laughs again, and you feel your cheeks heat up at the thought that you were really that obvious. "but seriously, you should talk to him."
"i should, right? i mean… we live together, it's not unreasonable to ask him to be civil."
"exactly!" he exclaims, making encouraging gestures at you with his hands. "maybe you two can get a bit more than civil," he grins mischievously and wiggles his eyebrows at you, earning an embarrassed groan from you.
"oh, shut up soap." you hiss, gulping down the rest of your drink in one go. "i'm not drunk enough for this…"
after that conversation, your concept of time truly left the building, along with any reservations you had about moderation. eventually you do find time to say hi to price, though you think he was probably laughing at how out of your mind you were rather than the hilarious joke you told him.
you're not sure what time it is when gaz, soap, and the captain track you down to say goodnight, leaving the pub with much more coherency than you when ghost drags you out with him.
the freezing temperature hits you as soon as you step over the threshold, but thankfully there's more than enough alcohol in you to keep you warm.
you started the night fully intending to give ghost the cold shoulder, but that was hours and however many drinks ago; now you were long past the fun part of being wasted and the depressive nature of it all was hitting you hard.
"i wish you– you didn't hate me…" you mutter, dragging your feet as you follow behind ghost. he's not walking as quickly as he did yesterday, but even in your inebriated state you can tell he's making sure to stay ahead of you.
"i don't." he replies dismissively, evoking an exasperated, albeit rather dramatic sigh from you. of course he was going to argue about it, owning up and apologising would be far too mature.
"y–" you hiccup, "yeah you do," frustration lacing your voice. you slow your pace until you completely stop walking, staring at the back of his head with narrowed eyes.
"i don't hate you, sting." he sighs, half turning his body to look at you. "come on, keep walkin'." he gestures with his head.
"ugh…" you groan, but comply and stumble forward catch up to him again "then why're you such a fuckin' prick all the time?" you glare at the side of his masked face now that you're walking next to him.
he says nothing, doesn't even look at you. if you didn't know any better, you would doubt he even heard your question.
"i don't hate you, y'know…" you mumble,  crossing your arms over your chest. "even though you're so– so horrible to me all the time." the urge to cry overwhelms you, your eyes falling to your boots as you shuffle along.
"i'm n–"
"you are!" you interrupt, throwing your arms out to the side and stopping in your tracks again. "every day you say shit to me, i don't– i don't get it! i don't know what to do…" you sniffle, dragging a hand over your face and taking a wobbly step backwards, away from ghost. "why can't you just be nice? like everyone else?"
the night air is cold, and so tense you can almost feel it. ghost's hands curl into tight fists by his sides as he stares you down. 
"i'm your lieutenant, sting, not your mate." he states it like a common fact as he reaches an arm out to you, stepping towards you. "you're drunk, come here."
you don't let him get close, however, and take another few steps backwards. "but you're friends with soap, and gaz, and even the captain!" your eyes well up with tears, and despite your best efforts to stop them, you feel the hot sting of them rolling down your cheeks. "what did i do wrong? why can't you like me too?"
again, he does nothing but stare at you. he blinks once, then twice, in what you might call shock – if you could see his face through the way the world spins around you.
"i like you!" you cry. "i always have, and you– you don't have to like me back, but please," you close your eyes in an attempt to alleviate your sudden dizziness, "just stop being such a dickhead to me! you make my life so difficult, and– and miserable!"
"sting…" ghost mutters, watching as you crouch down on the pavement with your head in your hands. he steps closer again, reaching a hand out to awkwardly pat your shoulder. "is that why you got yourself hammered tonight?"
"yes!" you whine through your tears, your head still swimming and causing you to sway slightly. "like you care!"
"listen," he begins, but you quickly cut him off by lurching forward onto your hands and knees on the harsh pavement.
"i'm gonna throw up–"
✹✹✹
"i'm sorry," you blubber, feeling rather pathetic where you're slumped next to the toilet, "please don't kick me out," tears still fall into your lap, but you gave up wiping them away a while ago.
"what?" ghost mutters from next to you. his calloused hands were keeping you upright from where he's crouched beside you on the bathroom tile. "why the fuck would i kick you out?"
"be– because i'm annoying, a– and you hate me…"
he sighs, "do you really think that lowly of me? how many times have i gotta say it before it gets through your thick skull?" he gently raps his knuckles against your forehead, "i. don't. hate you."
when you only sniffle in response, he sighs again before shifting to sit with his back against the bath next to you.
"well you could've fooled me…" you mutter, letting yourself lean against his side when the effort of keeping yourself up gets too much. you feel him flinch slightly and tense underneath you, but he doesn't move.
"i'm not good with…" he pinches the bridge of his nose, his head tilted downwards and his eyes squeezed shut. "i'm not kickin' you out, alright? no matter how much you piss me off." he pauses, and all you can do is watch him with your mouth slightly agape; this is the most he's ever said to you in one go since you met all those months ago. "and i shouldn't have run off last night. i just… i didn't realise you actually wanted to be friends… with me."
"bu…" your voice trails off, train of thought completely abandoned when he looks over and meets your gaze with his rich brown eyes.
"you're… you– i, er…" his eyes dart away from yours, finding a spot on the wall behind you to stare intently at. a sudden wave of exhaustion floods your senses, dropping your head onto his shoulder and allowing your eyes to fall closed, interrupting whatever thought he was trying to articulate. "fuckin' hell, alright… you're drunk, let's just get you to bed, eh?" his voice is just about audible as he manoeuvres your arm over his shoulders and lifts you to stand with practically no input from you.
he all but drags you out of the bathroom, and if you had any shred of coherency left within you you'd be mortified that he had to take care of you like this, but that's something for you to deal with in the morning.
you're pulled into the the living room where ghost drops you rather unceremoniously onto the sofa-bed, tugging the blankets from underneath you and settling them on top of your already half asleep form.
"night ghosty…" your sigh is muffled with your face buried into the pillow, but he pauses in the doorway when he hears it.
"goodnight, sting." he mumbles, before quietly shutting the door and letting you drift to sleep.
you wake up the next morning – or rather afternoon, since it was already one o'clock – with an absolutely splitting headache. it was expected, obviously, but it didn't stop you whining in pain as you sat up and clutched your head. how much did you end up drinking last night?
last night. right. it was all coming back to you now. you'd cried at ghost again, for the second night running, and even though he said he wasn't kicking you out, you would seriously prefer living on the streets to facing him right now.
you reluctantly emerge from the living room and squint at the bright daylight, groaning pitifully when your head pulses. maybe you should save yourself the trouble and just go back to sleep.
"so, you survived the night." ghost's voice calls from the kitchen, sounding incredibly unimpressed. you cringe at his words, naively hoping that he'd pretend the night before didn't happen like you so desperately wanted to.
"did i?" you grumble, walking through the doorway to find him sitting at the kitchen table, clad in his usual balaclava. you lean against the counter and massage your temples, "feel like i've been shot…"
"maybe you'll keep your head on straight next time. i don't want a repeat of that."
you purse your lips. "right…" you mutter, no energy left in you to come up with a retort.
"i had to drag you home, cryin' your eyes out." he gets up as he speaks, grabbing his cup and skirting around you to place it in the sink. he keeps his distance, but you see him watching you from the corner of your eye. "anyone would'a thought i was kidnappin' you."
"oh god…" you bury your face in your hands, your face heating up with the humiliation of the memory, "i'm sorry,"
"s'alright." he mumbles, still opting to gaze out of the window rather than meet your eyes. you blink in surprise at his short dismissal, but before you can formulate a response, he speaks again. "have a shower, sting. you stink."
you open your mouth to argue, but quickly forget about that idea. he was right, of course. without another word, you scurry out of the kitchen and lock yourself in the bathroom. you drag your hand over your face, willing the floor to just swallow you whole already.
you might as well have just died in your sleep, because you can't see ghost letting you live any of this down for as long as you live; though, as you stand there contemplating fleeing the country, you notice that he hadn't been nearly as pissed as you'd expected him to be this morning. you'd anticipated him grilling you about how careless you'd been and how irresponsible it was to drink that much, but the light teasing you'd endured just now felt more like the kind of banter you witnessed between him and soap, or gaz.
you can't help the giddy smile that overtakes you, your killer hangover nearly forgotten in favour of the thought of him finally letting you get close to him.
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taglist: @sofasoap , @siilvan , @mockerycrow , @i-love-ghost , @projectdreamwalker , @achelois-is-here , @adamsloverboy , @thatchickwiththecamera , @chickensandwich69 , @batmanunicorns523 , @tiny-kasper , @dezibou , @pampeop , @cumbermovels , @goth-boi-atlas , @berryjuicyy , @guiltgoreglory , @postmodernrevolutionist , @ghostlythots , @untoldshortsofthefandoms , @isseisslvt , @prodyng , @neteyamsb1tch , @delilah-grimes , @sunflowerqueen1416 , @luvssemma , @ghostslittlegf , @imonmykneessir , @dimitriene , @kenz-ee , @eistro-phobia , @rzmarona , @alanalanalanalanalanna , @dommmymommy , @carolelacroix , @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore , @cathnoneofyourbusiness , @madsothree , @geisterfvhrer , @lazyninjaphilosopher , @aliilium , @koi-feish , @chaoticgoblindev
if your name is crossed out, i can't tag you for whatever reason, sorry!
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thexsilentxwordsmith · 4 months
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader
Simon needing to hold you after a bad day.
The tiny apartment was completely silent as Simon unlocked the door and stepped inside, head hung low and shoulders tense. Lights were turned down, tv was off; you were most likely already asleep by now. It was late, much later than he had told you he’d be back, but he had been struggling with the weight of his thoughts again today and had barely made it in. He would have let you know that he was going to be late… it was just…he couldn’t find the will to even shoot you a quick text.
It wasn’t like him to be concerned about who knew where he was or what he was doing, choosing to distance himself from everything and everyone that could potentially catch a glimpse of him cracking behind the mask, but right now all he wanted was to get back to the place he called home before he fell apart and the world would swallow him whole.
As quietly as he could he set his things down beside the door and continued on through the flat, catching little bits of you everywhere: your shoes lying scattered by the wall, the blanket you’d just been curled up in tossed haphazardly in a bundle on the sofa, a mug on the coffee table that had the remnants of your drink stuck to the inside. Scattered bits of you everywhere across his life as little reminders of what he had that waited for him here and for the first time all day it felt a little easier to breathe to know his angel was close by.
Passing near the kitchen, Simon spotted a piece of paper with his name scribbled on the front waiting for him on the countertop, your familiar handwriting obvious to his eye. He picked it up and unfolded it.
Hey baby,
I really tried to stay up, I promise, but you know how work has been kicking my ass lately. I thought maybe I could just take a nap until you got in, but I was worried that if I laid down I wouldn’t wake up, so I thought I’d leave this here for you to find. Didn’t want you to think I forgot about you. Just wake me when you get in, alright? I don’t care what time it is, I want to see you!
Love you.
P.S. I left some dinner in the fridge if you haven’t eaten yet. We can reheat it and eat it together. XOXO 
Christ, what did he do to deserve all this?
Always looking out for him, always making sure he had a place back in the real world whenever he came home. He held that piece of paper between his hardened fingers, the note more significant than it should have been after the type of day he had. You were the closest to heaven as he could get, more than he ever thought he would get to have and that’s why it was you he was trying to break down that wall to come to for comfort. 
His sight flicked to the fridge where you said you’d left him something; he was definitely starving, but just the thought of the effort it would take to eat right now was too much and the knot that rested in the pit of his stomach made him too nauseous anyway. There was something that would fill him far better than food could and he knew just where to find it now.
Moving on to the living room, he set himself down heavily on the couch and began to remove his boots and the outer layers of his clothing along with his mask, stripping away all the bits of his life as the stone cold sniper now that he was safe here in his little sanctuary. Stripped bare until he was down to his boxers, Simon gently crept towards the back of the apartment hoping he would make it to the bedroom before this feeling took him. 
Closer and closer he walked towards the other half of his heart.
The door stood slightly ajar to invite him inside and as he stepped up to it, he caught the hushed, rhythmic sounds of your breathing as you slumbered. It sounded so peaceful that he could have stood there in the dimly lit hallway and listen to it all night long. Just a few more steps, barely any distance left, and he would truly be home.
The room was completely dark save for the small crack in the curtains that let in just a bit of light from the streetlamp outside, helping him to find his way through the maze of darkness. As those brown eyes adjusted to the lack of light, Simon turned his attention to the bed and his heart skipped a beat. There you were: the outline of your body silhouetted under the covers, your head buried in your pillow, all cares left behind as you slept.
No sound did he make as he crept to the edge of the bed and lifted the sheets so that he could climb inside and up against your body laying in the center. One strong arm slipped up under your pillowed head while the other wrapped around your waist until you were encircled and he pulled you slowly so that your back rested up against his chest. His body molded into yours still warm from being wrapped up tight.
You stirred awake gently at the feeling of that familiar large body suddenly laying beside you. “Hey you,” you whispered sleepily, a smile on your lips as your eyes fluttered as they worked to open. “Tried to wait up, but I got so tired I had to go lay down. I’m sorry, but I’ll make it up to you.”
Only silence greeted you as a response. No chuckle at your predictability, no picking remarks about how you couldn’t even stay up to see him, just the sound of labored breaths in and out as he lay there in the darkness curled up against you.
Silence only meant one thing and you knew it well.
“You okay baby?” you asked, but again there was no answer. Only the squeeze of his arm around your waist pulling you in tighter to his chest gave you any sort of reply as Simon’s nose nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his eyelashes brushing over your skin.
It was clear just from the silence that he was far from okay, that he must have been bottling this up for God knows how many hours so that the world would not see that he was not always the tough, put together soldier he was supposed to be. But he could not hide it from you...he didn't want to hide it from you.
You heard him inhale deeply, trying to capture as much of your scent as he could until it filled his head: your natural musk mixed with the smell of the sheets and added hints of shampoo and body wash. That comforting scent that belonged to only you that he couldn't ever get enough of, the one that helped to relax his troubled mind. Instantly the tension he had been carrying like a boulder upon his shoulders all day finally released him from its stranglehold. 
Gentle, exploring hands tentatively went up under your baggy shirt, one of his old worn ones you loved to wear to bed to keep him close even when he wasn’t there, as he just wanted to make contact with all that delicately soft skin. He traced over curved paths he knew by touch alone: it was soft, it was familiar, it was safe and his heartbeat slowed as the ache in his chest dissipated enough that he could finally talk.
“Bad day,” he whispered finally, warm breath against your shoulder. "Really fuckin' bad day... again."
You rolled over in his arms until you came face to face with those sad auburn eyes, moved by the shame in his tone. It broke your heart that each time he had one of these days he felt such guilt about it, as if he simply should have been over it all by now, as if he wasn't human, but you were not about to let him overthink the struggle. There was nothing to be shameful about.
“I’m sorry baby. These things just happen, you know, but its alright; we'll get through it together, ” you said quietly, fingertips gently running over the line of his eyebrow, down his cheekbone and further to his jaw in soothing circles.
Together.
Simon closed his eyes and eased into your hand as you traced patterns across his temple and through the cropped sides of his hair, letting the vile, churning thoughts rummaging around in his brain to fall away. No one else could ever see him like this save for you, no one else's touch he craved more than anything to bring him back into himself after the day had brought him down so low. 
He brought his hand up and placed the tough palm over top of yours to hold it firmly against his cheek as if to make sure that all of this was real, that you were not simply a mirage cast by his broken mind. 
“You’re home now, baby,” you reassured him as he took deep breaths in and out with his eyes closed, only wanting to feel you. “It’s gonna be okay, I got you.”
Home, still such a strange word for him.
Wherever you were that was home. Not a place, but a person, one who made certain that no matter how far he drifted she would always pull him back in. Simon had never had such a tether before, but fuck did he need it. He could feel it like medicine running through his blood, when you held him he could feel the chemicals rush to soothe the gaping wound in his heart.
Pulling your hand off his cheek, he brought it to his mouth and pressed his lips to the surface before leaning in to give one to your gentle lips. You embraced him back with such tenderness as if to remind him of that promise you had made to each other that neither of you would have to traverse the hell of this world alone.
“Home,” he repeated the tender word in his gravely tone, letting the emotionless second mask fall away. "I hope ya know... that you are my home, sweetheart."
You smiled. "You're mine too, Simon."
He took a deep breath, trying to swallow down the lump in his throat. "Bein' near ya is the only fuckin' thing that seems to help quiet the shit in my 'ead these days."
Pulling him back in, you gave him another kiss. "Then get nice and close," you said softly as you squirmed up under him more, setting his arm back over you.
Securing his arms around you again he moved over top of you so that his head rested against the middle of your chest, ear pressed in against your sternum to listen to your heartbeat rhythmically thump inside. With his hand still inside your shirt he drew his fingertips along your bare hips, not wanting anything more than your company tonight. 
Your calming fingers ran through his short hair and over his scalp as he counted the beats of your heart until he melted into your body. Discussion could happen later if and when he was ready, for now this was all he needed. However long he wanted to cling to your torso, you’d let him.
You were his life raft, pulling him back in and no matter how far he drifted and it was because of you that for the first time in his life he didn’t feel like he was going to get lost.  
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moondirti · 1 year
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Idk if you have answered an ask like this already but please feed me some possessive/ jealous Ghost hc or whatever bc that man is 10 times sexier while jealous and possessive.
Pls just imagine jealous sex with this man omg…
he would not know how to handle himself i'm pretty sure. sorry to sabotage your thirst anon, i just love me a repressed man :) anyway, this is for the same mc in cigarettes out the window (reader with the call sign 'scout') but it can be read entirely separate! so, without further ado here's some jealous ghost
He's colossal, a force composed of pure brawn and unfathomable depths. Talk of Ghost illustrates him as a norse warrior to end all, the nightmare fuel of enemies who can't help but pale at a skull face. Wholly a reputation founded on that tactical precision; charcoal eyes, half-lidded to contain the ire that bubbles like magma. It's all physical. You'd just assumed that strength extended to his emotional conviction as well.
But he gets quiet sometimes, eerily so. The type where he embodies his name and dissipates like shadow on you. You don't see him for days.
It definitely depends on the stage of your relationship. Catch him jealous before the six month mark and he'd choose to abandon ship. It's that instinctive fight or flight, the choice to back down and reassess before he loses another one of his men. But you're not the enemy; your hands are soft and supple when they cradle his face, never seeking to add to his scars. You're gentle when you tell him that it's him, always will be; no one can ever compare to the behemoth you'd surrendered your heart to.
It takes a lot of time to get Simon to the point where he allows himself to be possessive. The first time, it goes something like this:
Some bar in France, cleared out for their obligatory drink post-mission. Johnny had held him up, pulling him off to the side to start on a tangent about his makeshift bomb that ended up saving their lives. His eyes stay fixed on you, edging to his peripheral where you're caught up in a rather funny conversation with Gaz.
You muffle your snicker behind a shaking hand. Simons' own squeeze into fists.
While your relationship with the Lieutenant has yet to be defined, the men of the 141 recognise the silent claim that curls over your shoulders. It was written in your sleepy sigh, dewy skin gleaming with contentment, that night they'd woke at a safe house to find you three inches closer to his mattress. It was the first of many, many hints.
Garrick isn't flirting with you, not by a long shot.
But he is making you laugh. Perhaps harder than Simon ever has.
He can't really describe what overcomes him. It's a rib-shattering heartbeat, working overtime to supply his vision with brimming red. A deeply vulnerable pit bottoming out in his gut; that fear, still there, that you're only temporary. He only acts on the former so he won't face the latter.
He leaves Soap with no more than a clap on the back. The sergeant takes it for what it is, a promise to continue later.
"Price wants you on reports."
"Does he?" You shoot him an incredulous expression, shifting back and forth from his blank stare and the captain, who huddles near Laswell over a game of gin rummy.
"Affirmative." The response comes out faster than he'd like it to, clipped with full-bodied aggression.
"Right..." Licking your lip, you take a moment to match your scrutiny to his. Simon thinks he sees it, the glint your pupils take when you finally catch on. It combats the spite that courses through him, pooling down to fill the weight between his legs. Clever girl - you know him, probably better than he knows himself. "And I'm assuming you need to consult me on something regarding that?"
"Yes." It's all the indication you need.
"Well." You look to Garrick. "I'm sorry to cut this short, mate. Remember to tell me about Serbia some other time."
And Simon doesn't miss the odd look the sergeant gives you, lips curled downwards in an acknowledging humour. He doesn’t like that he’s comfortable enough to give that much. 
But you follow him, smaller footsteps matching his as he finds a secluded hallway near the bathroom. It’s a good thing, he – rather, his internal monologue that sounds too much like your voice – echoes.
"Gonna bring up what's wrong, or will I have to force it out of ya. Hm?"
"Didn' appreciate the way he was lookin' at you, pet."
Your breath hitches, clumped lashes fluttering as you take him in anew. If this were anything else, Simon would credit your grin to a cruel sadism. As it stands, though, he lets it guide the flow of his plastered heart. He's on the right track.
"And how was he looking at me, Si?"
The growl that leaves him is untamed, the feral rip release of a hand grenade. A large hand clamps over your jaw, pressing inwards so your lips pucker out at him. The other pushes your torso to the wall, skimming past the hem of your shirt.
It's new. It's thrilling. It's a wildfire turned eternal damnation, fuelled by a fatal sin that forever trumps envy. Lust, bubbling poison to his insecurity - practical headway into something he's good at. Words were never his forte, but he can fuck you like no one else can, thrusting deeper between your velvet walls than thought possible. It's always been enough to spur breathless awe.
Enough, enough.
"Like he could ever amount to me."
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deltaharrington · 11 months
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NEVER AGAIN
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PAIRING: JJ Maybank x Fem!Routledge!Reader
SUMMARY: JJ nearly gets himself killed, and you aren’t the normal sunshine everyone knows you as.
WARNINGS: A little angsty, short, fluffy ending.
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HOW DID YOU GET HERE? You weren’t even sure. The last thing you thought you’d be doing was hopping off of JJ’s bike and into Topper Thorntons truck.
“What is he doing?” Sarah asked and you shrugged, anger beginning to bubble inside of you.
He had been so different. So different since you got back home to the OBX. He was more distant than before.
You and JJ had always been close. He was drawn to you because of your nice nature. He didn’t think you had a mean bone in your body. None of the Pogues did.
John B, your brother, had lived with you your whole life and he knew you wouldn’t hurt a fly. Even in the stressful situations the Pogues put themselves through, you remained positive.
That was about to change.
You looked up and watched as a crash occurred on the overhead pass above you. Right where JJ had just been.
His bike flew off the side of the overpass and you scrambled to get out of the car, it not even being stopped yet.
“Oh my god!” You exclaimed and backed away as you watched the cops from above.
You fell to your knees and began to cry, Sarah moving up behind you to comfort you.
“I wish— I could say I did that on purpose” You heard from behind you. Your neck nearly broke with how fast you turned around.
It was JJ. He was alive.
“But…” He began “That was the gnarliest power slide I’ve ever done” He said and laughed a bit.
That’s when your anger boiled over.
“What the fuck, JJ?” You exclaimed, catching everyone off guard. They had never seen you angry before.
“You fucking asshole! You could have gotten hurt! Not to mention the fact that you’ve been practically ignoring me since we got back!” You said and rushed towards him, shoving him aggressively.
JJ stumbled a bit, his eyes wide in shock. He never knew you were feeling this way. He thought pushing you away would save himself from hurt.
“Sweetheart-“ He began, but you shook your head, tears falling from your eyes.
“Don’t you ‘sweetheart’ me, JJ” You said and moved as far away from him as possible. “I can’t believe you right now”
“M’not riding in the same car as him, Topper” You said and the kook nodded.
“I-uh, can he sit in the bed?” He asked and you nodded.
JJ didn’t say anything, he just rode in the back.
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After the disappointment of not finding the cross. The Pogues and Topper all went their separate ways. However, JJ followed you.
“Y/n, you’re gonna walk home alone?” He asked and you didn’t answer, assuming he’d follow.
“Hey- you got to talk, now let me” He said and you continued to walk.
“Dammit, Y/n! Stop!” He screamed and you froze, not expecting him to yell at you.
He caught up to you and stood directly in front so you couldn’t continue walking.
“I pushed myself away because I was scared” He admitted “Your brother- he noticed the way we had gotten close and he told me to stay away, so I listened” He explained.
“It was the worst mistake I’ve ever made” He added “I thought that pushing you away would save me the huff of losing you and my best friend”
“I love you, Y/n, and I’m sorry I scared you back there.” He finished and met your teary eyes.
“JJ…” You trailed off and rushed to him, pulling him into a hug. “I love you too- I didn’t mean to get that angry”
“Sweetheart, you had every right to be mad, I fucked up.” He said and pulled back.
“Can I kiss you?” He whispered and you nodded, ghosting your lips over his before connecting them.
Your lips moved in sync before you needed air, pulling away. “Please don’t scare me like that again” You said and he nodded his head.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
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A/N: YAY! This was short, but sweet!!
2K notes · View notes
vanacoar · 1 year
Text
Sneaking Around - Sebastian x F! Farmer
Rating: M
Warnings: NSFW (MDNI), oral sex, vaginal sex, terrible humor, submissive Sebastian, Farmer sneaking around with the sheer purpose of fucking the emo
Word Count: 5.7K
A/N: Sebastian brain rot continues
You and Sebastian had been “hanging out” for about two months, hanging out being the term you use because despite the fact that you’ve kissed him (only once you might add) the two of you hadn’t really defined your relationship yet. However, despite the fact that labels were currently up in the air, both of you were still hesitant to let anyone else know about the amount of time the two of you were spending together. Most nights you would find yourself precariously sneaking past Robin to make your way to your not quite boyfriends bedroom, where you two would spend the night watching terrible B list horror movies and eating stupid amounts of popcorn. If Sam or Abigail asked about how you two got along, you’d always find yourselves either deflecting away from the question, or answering with a “they’re pretty cool” or “they’re fun to hang with”. It was starting to grate on your nerves.
Tonight was no different. You approached 24 Mountain Road at about 7:30 PM, knowing that by this time Robin and Demetrius were more than likely getting ready for bed, and Maru was probably locked up in her room working on her latest invention. You had about 30 minutes to get in and get to Sebastian’s room before Robin came out to lock the door, like she did every night at exactly 8PM.
You opened the door slowly, freezing when you heard it give a small squeak of resistance. Deciding not to push you luck and risk it making more noise if you opened it further, you quietly slipped through the small gap you’d made before silently shutting the door behind yourself. The house was silent save for the quiet hum of a TV coming from Robin’s bedroom. You peaked your head around the corner, making sure her door was shut before slipping around and down the stairs to Sebastian’s basement bedroom, not even bothering to knock as you opened the door and rushed inside. Looking at the time, it was 7:45, perfect timing.
Looking around, you saw Sebastian at his computer, fingers nimbly ghosting along the keyboard as he typed line after line of code, eyes trained on the screen in front of him and headphones over his ears, it didn’t appear that he had even noticed your entrance. Perfect.
You clocked Sebastian as handsome the second you saw him on your second day in Pelican Town. You were out at the dock, Willy had sent you a letter to come by that morning and you were down there to meet him. It was a rainy Tuesday, most of the town were in their right mind to stay in doors in such nasty weather, but when you got to the dock, you noticed another person there with you, across the way on the opposite bridge. His hair was dark and plastered to his slim face, he sat at the edge of the peer, one knee pulled up to his chest, the other dangling off the edge, his elbow perched on his knee, a lit cigarette in his hand that he periodically brought to his lips.
“Who’s that?” You’d asked Willy after he’d gifted you his old fishing rod. The angler looked out to the opposite peer.
“Him? Oh that’s the carpenters boy, Sebastian I think his name is. He comes out here when it rains, kid’s interesting I’ll give him that.”
You met Sebastian properly the next day, he and Sam were outside Sam’s house, the blonde working through another level on his gameboy while Sebastian looked over his shoulder, cigarette in hand. Having already met Sam on your first day, you walked over to greet him.
“Oh hey, (Y/N)!” Sam greeted you when he looked up from the screen. “What’s going on?”
“I was just picking up some stuff from Pierre, thought I’d stop by and say hello.” You replied, holding your bag of goodies from the general store. “What are you two up to?”
“Nothin’ much, playin’ some games, chatting, that sort of thing,” Sam looked over to his friend before a look or recognition crossed his face. “(Y/N) I don’t think you’ve met Sebastian.” He pitched a thumb to the dark haired boy beside him, who only offered a glance to you. “He lives like right down the road from you.”
You took the opportunity to really look at Sebastian, he was tall, at least a few inches taller than Sam, who himself was not particularly short. His hair was dark, parted to the side and a stark contrast to the fairness of his skin. He was slender, the hoodie he wore looking to be a few sizes too big on his thin frame, his face was handsome though, sharp and angular with some of the most piercing gray eyes you’d ever seen, eyes that appeared to stare into your soul. “I’m (Y/N),” you greeted sweetly. “It’s nice to meet you, Sebastian.”
“Welcome to Pelican Town,” Sebastian’s voice was low but not extremely so, it was nice. “Out of all the places you could have gone, for some reason you chose this place.” He almost seemed amused. Something in your gut told you he was interesting.
You would spend the next several months getting to know Abigail and Sam, and it took a few more months after that for Sebastian to finally begin opening up to you. Getting through his thick outer shell was hard, but you eventually managed to crack it open, exposing the vulnerable boy underneath. The boy who felt displaced in his own home, under appreciated and undervalued by his mother and step father.
Right now, you leaned against the closed door of Sebastian’s bedroom, arms crossed over your chest as you watched him work. Normally he was done with work by now, usually waiting for you on his sofa or bed, but you guessed tonight was either a late night, or he had lost track of time, the latter would be your guess. You pushed yourself off the door, quietly slinking around his desk to stand behind him, watching for a moment as strings of code appeared on the screen as he typed.
Tonight would be different. Tonight you were finally going to get a label out of him, you were tired of not knowing what you meant to him, when you knew he meant so much to you. Slowly and gently, you placed your hands on either of his shoulders, feather light touches as you smoothed them over the soft fabric of his jacket, curling your arms around his neck as you leaned down to rest your head on his shoulder.
His fingers paused on the keyboard, taking a moment before reaching up to pull the headphones from his ears, turning his head slightly to greet you, a slightly tired look in his gray eyes. You smiled, placing a kiss on his cheek. “It’s almost 8 computer man.” You said against his skin.
“It’s that late already?” He asked, glancing down at the time at the bottom of his computer screen. Quickly, he moved his mouse over to the button highlighted ‘save’, and closed his file, turning around in his chair so he could face you clearly. “Any ideas on what you want to do tonight?” He asked. His eyes were completely innocent, as was the question, your mind however, was less so.
“I’ve got a couple.” You answered as he stood from his chair, once again towering over you, walking over to a shelf to look through his movie collection to find one the two of you hadn’t already seen. Yes, you definitely had a few ideas in mind.
***
Sebastian was always so warm, you’d noticed as you laid next to him on his bed. He was practically a furnace with the amount of heat he kicked off. The two of you sat in silence as the movie played, some cheap knock off of Godzilla, the effects were terrible and the script was laughable but that’s what made it fun. It was always like this, sitting side by side, arms occasionally brushing but other than that, minimal contact between the two of you. Originally, when the two of you first started these “date nights” you though that maybe he didn’t like you the way you liked him, but then you remembered that night, looking out at the lights of Zuzu City in the distance. He’d kissed you that night, so clearly he was interested in more than just a friendship. You kept expecting him to make the first move, an arm around your shoulder one night, maybe a hand on your thigh, but no, he was ever the gentleman, every night keeping his hands to himself, it was starting to drive you up the wall. However, you had made your decision, tonight you were going to make some waves, whether those waves were good or bad, was yet to be seen, but it was time to enact the first past of your plan.
You maneuvered, feigning a desire to get more comfortable when in reality you were moving to get closer to Sebastian, encircling one arm around his front to rest at the hem of his hoodie, your head coming to rest on his shoulder. You felt him freeze for only a moment before he relaxed into it, one of his arms coming up to wrap around your shoulder, forcing your head off of his shoulder and onto his chest. Part one was a success! Now for part two, which was going to be a little more tricky.
Your fingers played with the hem of his hoodie, occasionally slipping underneath just enough for the slightest touch of skin, the first time you’d done it the poor boy jumped, your fingers were cold against his heated skin, but he didn’t stop you, instead, the hand he had wrapped around your shoulder began tracing lines up and down your side, it was hypnotizing to say the least, but you had to stay focused.
Slowly, you slipped your fingers further and further under his shirt, you felt his abdominal muscles tense as you traced patterns onto his skin, making sure to keep your face schooled, as to not let him in on your plan. He was handling it well, fingers on your side rarely faulting, even as you looked up, placing a chaste kiss on his throat. You lips lingered on his skin for a moment before you pulled away.
“Something tells me you’re not watching the movie.” Sebastian said, despite the obvious amusement in his tone, you heard the slight waver of his voice. So you were effecting him.
“I’m watching something more interesting.” You whispered agains the skin of his neck.
“Why do I feel like you’re throwing out some hints?”
“I’ve been throwing out hints for the past few months but thanks for noticing.” That got a light chuckle out of him, just a soft breathy noise.
“How could you ever be not 100% enraptured in discount Godzilla?” Sebastian joked, finally looking down to meet your gaze, his eyes were cool, but you saw the glint of interest in them, curiosity even.
“Is discount Godzilla more interesting then a willing and eager girl in your lap?”
“Well I don’t know, seeing as there is not currently a willing and eager girl in my lap.”
“So sorry, let me fix that.” You sat up, slinging a leg over his lap so you were properly straddling him, his hands immediately coming to rest on your hips as your tucked your head against his shoulder, placing another kiss on his throat.
“You’re right, this is much more interesting than discount Godzilla.” Sebastian laughed as you planted a kiss just below his ear, before sitting back to meet his eyes. “Now my only question is what to do with her.”
“I’ve got a few ideas.” You said as you leaned forward, slotting your lips with his, the first kiss you’ve had with him in months and it was intoxicating. The kiss itself was chaste, innocent, just like the first one had been. It only lasted for a few moments before you pulled back, Just far enough to look him in the eyes, those steel gray eyes that had caught so much of your attention the first time you saw them. Your hands slid up his chest to rest on his shoulders, one of your thumbs grazing over the skin of his throat, such fair skin, skin that you would love to mark all over.
You don’t know who moved first, but before you knew it your lips were back on his, a desperate kiss that had you gasping as you pulled him infinitely closer, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you in. You practically shoved your tongue into his mouth, earning a desperate whimper from him, a sound that went straight to your core. One of your hands came to rest at the base of his throat, pushing ever so slightly, not enough to restrict his breathing, but enough to push him back against the headboard, a gentle knock of his head against the wood.
Your other hand moved down, once again slipping beneath the hem of his hoodie to press against the hot skin of his abdomen. “Take it off?” You asked against this lips. He didn’t make a verbal response, instead only nodding as he reluctantly pulled away from the kiss. You helped him pull the hoodie up over his torso until he tossed it across the room, where to, you didn’t care right now. “Good boy.” You said before you could stop yourself. You froze for only a moment, waiting to see his reaction, but instead of rejection, you were met with a whine. A fucking whine! You knew the game to play now.
You smiled into his lips when you kissed him again, hands moving to travel over his now exposed chest. “Are you going to keep being good for me?” You all but whispered against his mouth. You felt him nod. “Use your words, Sebastian.”
“Yes.” Was all he said before you moved lower, planting open mouth kisses over his neck, starting just below his ear. You contemplated leaving a mark, nice and dark where he couldn’t hide it, so everyone would know he was taken, spoken for.
You could feel his growing erection under you, straining against the fabric of his jeans. You planted a kiss to his collar bone as one of your hands traveled south, cupping him through has pants. He hissed at the friction your hand gave him, his head once again falling back against the headboard.
“This is definitely not what I was expecting to happen tonight.” Sebastian panted out as you applied more pressure to his clothed cock. You looked up at him, meeting his eyes again.
“Do you want to stop?” It was a simple question, and if he said yes and you would, no questions or rebuttals. He was silent for all but a moment before,
“No.” You smiled as your lips found his again, your hand moving from his cock to the button of his jeans, popping it open to slip your hand inside and palm him through his boxers.
“Tell me, was it the ‘good boy’ that got you this hard?” You asked, and you swore you heard him moan.
“Among other things.” He hissed out as you wrapped your fingers around him through his boxers. You smiled, you were going to wreck this boy.
The movie was still playing in the background as you coaxed Sebastian to lay on his back, chest heaving as you pulled your hand from inside of his pants, only to hook your fingers into his waistband, pulling his jeans and boxers together far enough to let his cock spring free, precum already leaking from the tip, he was so worked up and you felt as if you’d hardly done anything yet.
Part of you wanted to pin him to the bed, climb on top and ride him until you couldn’t remember your own name, but that could wait until the next time, tonight you had a very specific plan. You wrapped your fingers around the base of his cock, squeezing slightly just to hear him hiss. Leaning down you placed a gentle kiss on his hip bone, looking up at him through your lashes.
“Red means stop.” You said as your hand began to move, sliding to the head of his cock. He nodded, panting as you collected the precum at the tip into your hand to use as lubricant as you stroked him, slowly at first, letting him get used to you, experimenting with different levels of grip before you started working him faster.
Sebastian brought a hand to his mouth, biting down on his knuckles to keep from making too much noise as your hand stroked up and down his length. You felt him attempt to thrust up into you hand, at which point your other one came to pin his hips to the bed, drawing out another whine from his throat. Sebastian was well endowed, a solid 7 inches, thick enough to take your entire hand, your fingertips barely meeting, staring down at his swollen cock, you couldn’t help but wonder what he tasted like.
You leaned down, flattening your tongue against the underside of the head, and he nearly wailed, would have, had he not brought his other hand to press against his mouth as well. You could tell he was getting close as your closed your lips around the head of his cock, laving your tongue over the slit, feeling him shudder beneath you. His moans got louder, higher pitched the closer he got, all the way until he was at the precipice, ready to fall, when suddenly you pulled away.
Sebastian gasped at the sudden change, nearly choking on the air, meeting your eyes, you could see the tears in his eyes. You grinned, placing a gentle kiss on his stomach. “I didn’t say you could cum yet.” You smiled as you dragged your tongue up his chest to lap at his throat, this time not hesitating to suck a mark there, marring his fair skin for all to see. He was still panting, trying to catch his breath.
“Please,” he whispered as you began your descent down his torso again, giving gentle nips to his skin along the way, until you once again reached the bones of his hips, flattening your tongue over his skin. “(Y/N), please.” You smiled against his flesh.
“Please what?” You looked up at him again, his face was flushed, pupils blown out wide with want, breath coming out in short pants.
“Please let me cum.” He said so nicely, you were tempted to give in, but what’s the fun in that?
“And how would I do that, baby?” You stroked the skin of his inner thigh, well what you could reach with his pants still in the way.
“Please touch me.”
“I am touching you, Seb.”
“No.” He flopped his head against the pillow. You smiled once more.
“You gotta be specific babe.” You started, tracing soothing circles into the skin of his hips. “Tell me.”
He was silent for a moment, seemingly choosing his words carefully. “Please touch my cock.” There it is.
“Good boy.” You said as you hooked your fingers into his waistband again, this time pulling his jeans and boxers all the way off, shoving them to the floor as you made yourself comfortable between Sebastian’s legs. You heard his whine again, his hips giving an involuntary thrust up at the praise. Your clothes felt too tight, still fully intact as Sebastian lay in front of you completely bare, spread out and waiting for you to take him. You leaned down to press a kiss to the base of his cock, ripping a choked out gasp from his throat as you dragged your tongue from his base to the tip, tasting the saltiness of his precum at the head. Wrapping your lips around him once more, you took him further into your mouth, letting the tip of his cock hit nearly the back of your throat before pulling back again, dragging your tongue along the underside as you hollowed your cheeks, hand wrapped around what you couldn’t fit.
His hands found your hair as you proceeded to take him in your mouth, lavishing his cock with your tongue. The noises he made switched from moans to whines and back again as you moved your head up and down. He clasped a hand over his mouth to keep the noises from being to loud, not wanting to let the whole house know good he was being taken apart. His grip in your hair tightened as he painted your name, a litany of ‘please’ and ‘yes’ sprinkled in. He was getting close again his hips thrusting up into your mouth. You let him.
“(Y/N),” he choked out your name as you took more of him in your mouth. “(Y/N), close, so close, please, please.” He sounded wrecked, eyes shut and tear tracks down his cheeks as you sucked hard, moving just a little bit faster. You wanted to feel him cum, taste him and swallow everything he had down your throat.
Sebastian’s back arched off the bed as he came, flooding your mouth with his cum, which you happily took. He gasped soundlessly as his body tensed around you, his grip in your hair nearly painful, but sending pulsing heat to your core nonetheless.
He collapsed back on to the bed, chest heaving with the intensity of his orgasm. You let his softening cock fall from your lips, climbing up his body to kiss him again, pushing your tongue into his mouth with little resistance, smiling at his responding moan. His hands came up to wrap around your waist again, pulling your closer and deepening the kiss.
You felt his heated hands slip under your shirt, his palms flat against your sides as he slid your shirt up your torso. You broke the kiss, sitting up so you could completely remove it, reaching back and unclasping your bra, tossing it across the room. Sebastian’s eyes were glued to you, sitting up to press his lips to your chest, kissing your clavicle before moving lower, planting kisses over the curve of your breasts, one hand coming up to graze his thumb over your nipple, pulling a startled gasp from your lips. His fingers trailed deftly down your torso, fingertips calloused from years of typing, as he reached the waistband of your jeans, popping open the button and pulling the garment past the curve of your hips, along with your panties. You moved to get your jeans off of your legs, dropping them to the floor as you moved to once again straddle Sebastian’s lap, wrapping your arms around his neck as you kissed him.
“And to think, we could have been doing this the whole time instead of watching B list horror movies.” You stated against his lips as you rolled your hips against this, his cock starting to once again so interest.
“What you don’t think discount Godzilla adds to the mood?” Sebastian joked, and you found yourself giggling into his mouth.
“Something you wanna share with the class about your affinity for Kaiju?”
“He must have a massive cock.” This time you really laughed, tucking your head against his shoulder, he smiled against your hair as his hands strokes up and down your sides. He placed a kiss just under your jaw before you found yourself on your back, Sebastian hovering over you, he leaned down and pressed a hard kiss to your lips. You gladly open your mouth for him, letting his tongue into your mouth as he settles himself between your legs.
He kissed under your jaw, trailing his lips down your throat, you felt him sucking marks into your skin, but you didn’t care. He trailed further, placing kisses down your chest, sucking a few marks onto the curve of your breasts before dragging his tongue over one of your nipples, you arched your back into his touch, which he was all too pleased about by the look of his smile when he began to continue his descent down your body. He kissed down your stomach, down to your hips, where he marked you again. He carefully pushed your thighs further apart, admiring how you were spread out before him. He latched his lips onto the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, pulling a gasp from your lips as he sucked another mark there, and another and another until you were sure your inner thighs were going to be black and blue by morning.
Your breathing was heavy as he inched closer to your core. “To think,” he started, propping himself on one elbow while the other hand came to brush his knuckles against your throbbing heat, a ghost of a touch, but enough to light your skin on fire. “All this time you’ve been giving me pleasure, when you were so worked up yourself.” He slipped on of his fingers through your folds, teasing just at your entrance, but never daring to push inside. You were desperate to feel him inside.
“Well you were being so good for me, how was I supposed to focus on anything else?” You felt Sebastian sigh against your thigh. You wanted to tell him to hurry up, to put his mouth on you, devour you like you knew he wanted to. Instead he proceeded to place kisses everywhere but here you really wanted him. You were about to say something when without warning he licked a strip from your entrance to your clit, making you choke on your gasp. Your hands find his hair as he does it again before focusing his attention on your swollen clit, his arms wound around your thighs, pulling your legs further apart and half yanking you down further to meet his mouth. One of your hands moved from his hair to your mouth, covering it with the back of your hand to stifle the loud noises that wanted so badly to breech from your throat.
Sebastian lapped at your core like he was a man dying of thirst and your soaked cunt was the only source of water. You thrust your hips up, or tried to, as he had your hips in an ironclad grip, arching your back as he gave a rough hard suck to your clit. “Sebastian,” you gasped out, you felt him hum against you, sending a spark of electricity up your spine. Your grip tightened in his hair. “Fuck, baby, so good, you’re doing so good.” You babbled out, barely registering the moan from the man between your legs as he pulled you impossibly closer. The room was filled with the lewd slick noises of Sebastian’s ministrations on your cunt, combined with the quiet moans and gasps that escaped your lips, muffled by your hand. You wished you could be loud, make sure he knew just how good he was working you, just how thoroughly he was wrecking you with his tongue, but you definitely didn’t want the way Sebastian’s family found out about the two of you be because they were woken up at 1 am by the sounds of their son giving the sweet farmer girl from down the road the most amazing sex of her life.
You barely contained as scream when two of his long fingers penetrated you, scissoring inside of you as he stretched you open. He thrusted the two digits in and out of you, curling them in a come hither motion that had you seeing stars. You were getting close, each lap of his tongue and curl of his fingers pushing you closer and closer to the edge.
“Don’t stop,” you panted, gripping the pillow behind you for leverage as your spine arched off the bed, attempting to get closer to him, if that was even possible. “So close, baby I’m so close, fuck, make me cum.” Sebastian hummed against you again and you felt yourself fall, the coil wound so tight finally snapping as you came, hand locking over your mouth to keep your scream inside as your body tensed, your lungs spasming as you tried desperately to take in air. He worked you through it, only pulling away when you pulled at his hair. He placed kisses over your hips and up your stomach as you panted, kissing up your chest and neck until he reached you lips. Your hands tangled into his hair as he kissed you, one hand gripping behind your thigh to hike your leg up over his hip, you could feel his cock, rock hard against your core.
The movie had long since ended, the bright white words spelling ‘play’ being the only thing to illuminate the room. He gave you a minute before reaching down to align himself with your entrance, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he pushed into you, making you impossibly full as your hands scrambled for purchase over the skin of his back, your nails surly leaving angry red marks over his flesh. You pressed your lips against his shoulder as he bottomed out inside of you, buried to the hilt inside your heat. You could feel him trembling above you, not daring to move just yet, you let him get his bearings while you lavished the skin of his neck and shoulder with kisses, nipping gently at his skin.
Before long you felt his pull almost all the way out, covering your mouth with his own before slamming hard back into you, swallowing your gasp. He set a steady pace, fucking into you roughly while your nails bit into his shoulders. The room was full of the sounds of gasps and broken moans as he slammed into you, one of his hands coming to grip at your hip, lifting your hips just barely off the bed, but allowing him to get so much deeper, and you couldn’t help the moan the was ripped out of your throat, although he didn’t seem to care much as he buried his head against your shoulder, nipping at your sensitive skin as he picked up his pace.
Your moans became high pitched, trying desperately to stifle the noise by sucking mark after mark onto his shoulder. “Sebastian, seba- fuck.” A litany of his name fell from your lips, panting against his flesh before he faced you again to engulf you in a breath stealing kiss. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop.” You pleaded into the kiss.
“(Y/N),” he all but moaned as his hips stuttered. He filled you so completely, his cock hitting every spot inside of you on every thrust, the grip he had on your hip tight enough you were sure you’d have bruises by morning, and you wanted them. You were approaching the edge again and fast, as you grasped for any kind of purchase, legs wrapping tight around his waist as his pace got faster and faster. “Close,” he gasped against your lips. “So close, fuck, (Y/N).” You tightened your legs around him, pulling him as close as you could.
“Come on baby,” you encouraged him, gasping at a particularly well aimed thrust. “Cum for me, fill me with it, I want it please!” You gasped out, Sebastian choked on air as his rhythm started to stutter some more. He grasped your body tight as he came, his cum spilling into you, filling you more, you toppled over the edge with him, letting out cry as he fucked the both of you through it.
Eventually the only sounds in the room were the sounds of panting, as the two of you caught your breath, Sebastian propping himself up on his elbows as he hovered above you, before slowly pulling out of you to collapse onto his back, chest heaving.
“Wow,” he choked out. You turned to your side to look at him, his dark hair scattered, unkempt from the way your fingers had raked through it, figuring your own hair wasn’t much better. You smiled up at him as you moved to lay your head on his chest, his arm coming to wrap around you, fingertips tracing lazy patterns into your skin. “Next time we have sex, we’re doing it at your house.” You felt your heart warm at his words.
“Agreed,” you said, planting a kiss on his chest. “That way I can hear all those pretty little moans.” His responding whine sending a dulled heat back to your core.
It was quiet for a while, part of you though he had fallen asleep, you were startled when he spoke. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” He all but whispered into your hair. You felt the question rise in your throat, pressing your lips to his neck when you asked.
“Why’d you wait?”
Sebastian sighed. “I don’t know if it’s hard to tell, but I’m not exactly popular with people,” he confessed, you hummed in response. “We already had something good, and I wasn’t sure if you wanted more and I didn’t want to risk it.” You lifted yourself up onto your elbow, placing a hand on his jaw to turn his head to look at you, his gray eyes meeting your own. You pressed a chaste but passionate kiss to his lips, which he responded to in kind as his other arm came to wrap around your waist.
“I want everything you have to give.” You confessed against his lips.
***
“Woah someone got lucky last night.” Sam exclaimed walking into the saloon that next night, seeing Sebastian already waiting for him at the pool table. “Who was the lucky lady… or dude, I don’t judge my best friends taste.”
Sebastian stiffened, attempting to pull the collar of his hoodie up to cover the very obvious hickie that you had left on his throat. He seemed to stumble for an answer before he was interrupted by the sound of two more entering the back room, you and Abigail rounding the corner together, giggling about who knows what. Abigail went to her usual spot on the couch, ready to watch as Sam got his ass handed to him again in pool, while you walked over to Sebastian, reaching up to place a kiss on his cheek before moving to go sit next to your friend.
Sebastian felt the flush rising up his neck, glancing up at his best friend to see an awestruck disbelieving look on his face, it would have been funny if it wasn’t directed at him.
“How the fuck did you pull-“ Same started.
“I don’t know.”
3K notes · View notes
saerins · 1 year
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─── 𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐍 𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐌𝐄
+ gojo x f!reader | wc 2.3k | content: modern au, fluff, slight angst, rich!gojo, rich!reader, arranged marriage but reversed(?), slightly suggestive
notes: haha i was exploring tropes and this just came to me :’) fairly nervous so feedbacks and reblogs appreciated muwah <3
summary: sometimes you think that you and gojo are not meant to be. and sometimes, he itches to prove you wrong.
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there are many things you would call gojo satoru. partner in crime, friendship on fire, a twisted manifestation of the kind of romance that would consume you whole if you didn’t take precaution.
“ready to do this, baby?”
he’s as sweet-lipped as ever, the honeyed words overflowing from his tongue. how you’d miss it, those words you hear at night, the saccharine praises that send you into overdrive.
“only if you are, sweetie.”
you’re equally good at it, having learned from one of the best—gojo satoru himself. you smirk at him, straightening his suit and tie. he looks devilishly handsome in that tailored suit, the one you had made for him. if you recall correctly, he only saves it for a special occasion.
and it qualifies—today is definitely a special occasion.
“so happy to be getting rid of me?” satoru asks you, pouting and putting on his best puppy eyes. his white lashes house a sea of crystalline blue, the kind you’ve gotten addicted to, the same pair you’d gotten lost in many times over.
you’ll never forget it.
the way satoru’s lips ghost over your own. the way his index finger trails up the side of your arm. he likes the goosebumps that sear across your skin. satoru loves knowing the effect he has on you.
this marriage of convenience has taken its toll on both your families. in hindsight, they should’ve known that they can’t control either of you. the gojo family, for all they’re worth, thought that gojo satoru would never betray their money, their status. and your family—they’d always known you’d objected to these notions; convenience, business, romance—the way these three intertwine intentionally, a manufactured relationship borne out of familial ties.
it’s bullshit.
how lucky for you, that gojo satoru felt the same. he still feels the same, which is why he’s in front of you right now, getting ready to drop the bomb in the investors’ meeting.
his father is sure to kill him, but that’s provided he can get through you first.
sure, getting married to gojo satoru was not in your life plans. your mother had chosen a very apt timing to tempt you, quoting half a million dollars as the condition for getting and staying married to that gojo boy. and sure, she can do her best to try and haggle that money back from you once the both of you are done with today, but you’re guessing she’ll be facing much more important and pressing matters than simply getting money back from her defiant daughter.
“this is what we discussed, satoru,” you sigh, avoiding his question like he knew you would. “one year, that’s all we needed. and look where we are now.”
satoru smiles, pearly whites and bad boy charm. “i’d miss you in my bed at night though.”
you smack him playfully across his chest. he only chuckles lowly, fondly, his right hand on your head, brushing your hair. it almost makes you want to stay. but that wasn’t part of the deal, and you’re not sure that either you or satoru are ready for commitments.
“must’ve been some pretty good sex to make the gojo satoru miss me, huh?” you play along, pushing yourself away gently, your hand on his chest.
satoru tips your chin up with his finger, looking you in the eyes as he tells you, “babe, you’re the best pussy i’ve ever had.”
complete romantic, as you can tell. (you can’t stop his vulgar tongue even if you tried.)
“okay okay, stop stalling, satoru,” you chide him, holding your palm out, smiling as he takes it. “got the evidence?”
satoru holds a thick envelope out, grinning. “all here.”
the two of you stand outside the conference room for a minute, staring at each other. in another world, maybe you’d be in this hotel with gojo satoru where you’re actually married—for feelings rather than a transaction. in that other world, maybe you and gojo satoru were childhood sweethearts, the kind where you grew old without all the fucked up relationships that branded both of you too overwhelmed to be in a real one right now. hey, maybe in that world, maybe just maybe, that vow that gojo satoru had uttered on your wedding day (the same that you had uttered as well)—maybe he would’ve meant it.
you didn’t think you would come to like gojo satoru. it’s been a long time since you’d first met him. when you’d seen him stomping into the meeting room of your company’s office like he owned the place, like everyone there was beneath him. he’d gotten right under your skin then and there.
getting along was no easy feat. it took three months for the both of you to agree to live together. strangely it took just one night for you both to give in to temptation once you did start living together.
both of you are menaces—that’s what your mother would say.
somehow, somewhere, those feelings you thought you’d never feel before blossomed again. the kind of trust you didn’t think you’d ever give was given to satoru and you wonder if he even knows it. but satoru has never changed his stance on relationships since the first time you met him; they’re a waste of time.
“you know, if you wanna keep me, all you gotta do is say so.” satoru’s looking at you, that jester smile plastered on his face. you can’t see his beautiful eyes when it’s all crinkled up like that, but you thank god for that. you don’t know how you’d resist him if you could see them.
“dream on, satoru,” you deflect, and expertly. you’re great at hiding your real feelings like that. “our deal ends today.”
yeah, the deal the two of you made with each other, right when both families thought their children had made peace with their decision, or their fate, as they liked to call it. neither you nor gojo felt any affection for the family you grew up in, not when they’d never took interest in either of you as anything other than an heir. when both your childhoods were filled with extra readings and learning proper manners. when satoru grew up learning from his father that women were just a means to a child and you’d grown up learning from your mother that if a girl is not beautiful then she is not desirable. you remember how she almost disowned you for getting a scar on your face, even though it was only temporary.
she has a penchant for the overdramatics. you think today might be no different. you hope not. the entire aim of today is to bring about the crumble of two empires—gojo’s and your family’s.
to hell with their money and their dirty syndicates. it’s filthy money they have their hands full with, and frankly, you and satoru are done playing their pawns.
as satoru leads the way, you loop your arm around his elbow, watching as his father is taken completely off-guard when he watches his own son expose his schemes, watching as your own parents try to salvage the situation by saying how children these days would do anything to get out of their responsibilities.
they’re all walking ironies.
you both watch as the investors walk out one by one, outraged and disappointed. you watch as satoru’s own father vows to kill him, and you scoff as your own mother seconds his notion.
“not if the law gets you first,” you tell them, effectively shutting them up as they hear the police sirens in the air.
they spew about how the both of you are pieces of shit as they’re taken away, and you find you couldn’t care less. maybe it’s a little inhuman of you not to feel a thing when you watch your parents getting taken away in handcuffs. but then again, they’d never really treated you like a human either.
“here you go,” satoru chirps as the sirens drown into the background. he holds out another envelope, this one solely for you.
you smile, a melancholy washing over you as you take it from his hands and take the documents out, flipping to the last page where satoru has already signed.
“our divorce papers,” you coo, “how romantic.”
because gojo satoru is always a romantic.
he remembers your birthday and remembers your favourite cake. he remembers what you need when you’re upset, never makes you feel alone. he remembers how you like your eggs and purposely cooks them wrong all the time. he remembers how you take your coffee and always gives you tea. he remembers how you always nag at him for annoying you and then annoy you some more because for some reason you look very attractive when you’re angry.
it takes you a minute to sign your own name. it kind of feels lonely now, thinking how you’ll never go back to the same apartment as satoru. how you won’t see him sprawled out on the couch, pouting because you’re a little late for movie night. how you won’t catch him staring at your body as you get changed. how you won’t get to throw your pillows at him in the morning for tickling you in bed just to get you to wake up.
after all—you’d agreed; these affections were temporary like they were always meant to be.
you can’t help but find yourself wishing for more. but you were raised to be ruthless, not stupid. you won’t let satoru know of your feelings, because all your deductions say that nothing good will come of it.
“hmm,” satoru hums as he eyes your signature. “wouldn’t be opposed to a special arrange—”
“not gonna be your fuckbuddy, satoru,” you deadpan at him, flicking his forehead.
“why not?” he whines, and you nearly cave.
because you can’t risk falling further than you already have when there’s absolutely zero chance of satoru catching you.
“because there’s a long line of guys i wanna date and you should get in line first,” you lie, and satoru smirks like he’s caught on to something.
but if he has, he doesn’t say a thing, and that tells you everything you need to know.
“guess this is it then, l/n y/n?”
you don’t want it to be, but it has to.
“you made a great fake real husband, gojo satoru,” you tell him, shaking his hand.
kind of a lame goodbye for two people who had shared everyday together for the past year. but you think maybe this brief goodbye should suffice. you don’t want the flames to burn either of you blue.
gojo satoru doesn’t say another word when you turn to leave.
and you don’t turn to look back at him as you walk away.
some chapters of your life should come to a close. your chapter with gojo satoru should remain here, kept close in your heart, kept warm as memories should.
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six months later.
“i just think you and i would be suited for other people.”
it’s funny, how everything never works out between you and other guys. you don’t recall it being so hard with satoru. perhaps he was truly made for you, like the heavens designed. but both of you were too similar, too afraid of commitment. nothing was going to come out of it anyway.
and maybe that’s why you miss it.
his fleeting glances, soft lips on tender skin and a pair of calm blue that never fails to mesmerise you.
satoru is the fleeting kind of romance that burns so bright in its prime and the kind you can never keep close. not when he isn’t willing to tone it down and when you don’t have the tolerance to match.
strangely, maybe that’s also why you’re still drawn to him. you’re still hoping that there will be a flaw in the design, that your seemingly parallel lines will intersect somehow. that maybe you won’t have to try and replace him with someone else.
“yeah, kento, i get it,” you tell nanami, sipping on your tea as you watch him get up and go.
you and nanami would not have worked out anyway. not when you’re way too fucked up and he’s comparibly normal. it would be too much for him. you would be too much for him. you stare at the tea in front of you. you kind of miss those dates satoru took you on; trespassing on private property and reliving youth in arcades.
satoru is everything—love, heartache, gambles, sins. both of you are spun from the same thread, and maybe you believe that if soulmates exist, you and him have the same red thread twirled around your pinkies.
though, the fact that he isn’t here simply proves you to be wrong.
last you’d heard, satoru was travelling the world, carefree and spreading his wings like you always knew he would.
you find yourself wishing that perhaps, somehow, you’d meet him again. but you sigh and get up, knowing you are far too old for this wishful thinking.
but where you’d thought that satoru was roaming, you forget that he’s much like a swallow. because now, when you turn around, you catch that same shade of ocean blue staring straight at you, the same white locks that obstructed your vision in the mornings.
the same satoru who’d learned of love through you and you alone. the same satoru who, even if he leaves, will always find his way back to you, no matter how much you try to deny and push him away.
satoru takes two steps forward before he pulls you towards him, his long arms coming around you and holding you tight.
this time, he’s not going to let you go.
“y/n,” he calls your name softly, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “wanna give this another shot?”
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1K notes · View notes
ghosts-bandwagon · 1 year
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TF141 + König help you move
Here’s some backstory (bc this is incredibly self-indulgent send help): you take everything upon yourself, plan everything down to the last detail so you just wind up overwhelming yourself and then you’re just running on fumes the entire time, you are not at peace until you’ve moved into the new place, you are a ball of stress aaaand go:
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley:
He’s very much the type to watch you go, he knows you’re overloading yourself and he wants to step in but he also knows you need to learn how to ask for help
That’s not to say he’s completely hands off, he’s listening to every word when you review your checklist, he’s helping you pack- everything from assembling the boxes to sealing them when they’re full
He’s taken it upon himself to make sure you eat a proper meal
“What’s this?” You ask as you mute your phone while on hold with the utilities company for your new place,
“It’s breakfast. Eat.”
“I already-”
“Iced coffee isn’t food, love.”
Bet
So he’ll take to cooking or grabbing your favorite take out
If you’re worried you forget something, he’ll go down the list with you, going so far as to grab your notebook and review it with you
He encourages you to sort through your belongings and figure out what you want to keep and what you want to give away
His rule: if I haven’t seen you use it, wear it, read it, or touch it in the last six months, it’s going in the giveaway box (save for stuff with sentimental value)
Surprisingly enough, it helps reduce how much you have to pack and you couldn’t be more thankful
All in all, 10/10
John ‘Soap’ MacTavish:
He’s so much fun to be around
He knows you’re taking on too much and he’ll tell you as much
“I’m fine, Johnny, I just like these things done a certain way. And when the order gets messed up, I have a panic attack.”
“Well, then explain how you’d like it done, and I’ll see to it that it stays that way, sound good?”
He’s so understanding god bless
He does everything possible to make the process stress free, from putting on music while you’re packing and cleaning, to being in charge of snacks 
He helps divide the labor very seamlessly, he does all the physical stuff (packing, cleaning, moving furniture, etc) and he leaves the logistics to you, (utilities, new apt, address change, etc)
If at any point you feel like it’s still too much, he’ll jump in without hesitation 
Just tell him where you’re struggling and what your next task is and he’ll gladly take over
You point, he’ll shoot (or pack, in this case)
John Price:
Like??
Good luck trying to take control of the whole thing
He’s way ahead of you and doesn’t let you do a single thing on your own, that’s not true, he’ll let you do things on your own but not all of it, you get the idea
Man’s a Captain for god’s sake, he definitely has a system to make the process easier
He makes sure you start the process sooner rather than later to avoid scrambling last minute
Before even buying boxes, he’ll sit down with you to come up with a checklist for things to do and what order to pack your place in
He’s very encouraging throughout the whole process
“Phew, almost an hour later and I was successfully able to transfer my car insurance.” You sighed slumping against the table, practically throwing your phone to the other side of the room
“You’re doin’ great, love, keep it up.” He comes up behind you to rub your shoulders and rub your back encouragingly
He’s with you every step of the way
Kyle ‘Gaz’ Gerrick:
I love him but I can see it as being kind of chaotic lmao but still fun!
You better believe he’s got Animal Crossing music on loop
He claims it’ll help you get into the cleaning/packing frame of mind and son of a bitch he’s right 
He sets a hard limit of one to two things a day, so if you finished packing up your living room sooner than you expected and now you want to move on to your bedroom, too damn bad
He’ll physically stop you lol
“You already did enough, babe, it’s time to rest.”
“I feel fine, Ky, I can keep going.”
“Trust me darlin’, take it easy, you’re doing great.”
Definitely the type to give you a treat to help keep you motivated, or even start your day with a treat
You’re dreading calling the new internet company to set up your new wifi? Well guess what? He’s treating you to coffee and a cinnamon roll from your favorite cafe to help motivate you
You’re dead tired after packing up all your belongings in your room, dinner is your pick babe, whatever you want, yes, Taco Bell is perfectly ok 
König:
Very good at following directions and equally good at being perceptive and knowing when to step in without being asked
He knows you have a habit of taking on more than you can handle but he also knows your tells just as well
Increased irritability, you’re more tired than usual, you’re not eating as much, drinking more coffee than you normally do, jittery leg, trouble sleeping, he knows you babe, he sees you
So he does everything he can to prevent you from getting to that point
If you’re complaining about packing all your books, don’t worry about it, he’s on it
You’re stressed about cleaning as you pack, no need, he’s already coming behind you with Clorox wipes, a broom, and a swiffer mop
He encourages you to offload some of your tasks to him, insisting that he knows how you want it done and can do it accordingly
“Schatz, you have so much on your plate already, let me handle renting the truck and getting the supplies, we’ll go over what you want to do first, and I’ll help you do it, ok?”
At the end of the night when your limbs ache from exhaustion, he gently taking your hands in his and massaging the tension away, placing little kisses as he goes
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plmp0 · 2 months
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The Sex Love House PT 3
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Summary: Welcome to the love house where a lot of stories will infold, 7 participants will have a chance to live together in the same house for a mounth while still doing their normal activities, will they find real love in this short period? Or at least this is what ur friend want u to believe. Part 1 Part 2
Warnings: a very manipulative!jay, manipulative!sunghoon, manipulative!heeseung, ex!bf!Jake, everyone is a perv in this house, reader is clueless, shameless reader, kinda stalker reader, Siyeon (from dreamcatcher) is also part of this, this is a pure filth, explicit content.
Smut warning: hand!job, oral (f), cum eating, desperate Jake, kind of subby!jake, p in v, unprotected sex (cause it's fiction), overstimulation, a lot of teasing, i think that's it
A/N: This part was supposed to go out a long time ago but i forgot to save it and i had to re-write it again so it's not as good cause i got annoyed sorry. Also this is not proof read so there might be some mistakes and typos so yeah
It's the week-end Jake woke up today going straight to ur room knocking on ur door before entering, u were still in ur shower robe hands blow drying ur hair as he looked at u through the mirror "oh hi i was going to talk to u after i finish, we didn't get a chance to yesterday" u said upon brushing ur hair.
He noded his head eyes scanning u, u got more beautiful since the last time he saw u, he's ngl he forgot about u at some point but he just woke up one day having u running through his head, what could u be doing now? Did u get taller? Did u let ur hair grow? How many relationships have u been through? He had these small thoughts about u, but everytime his heart tries to soften to u, the memory of ur ghosting and its side effects come back to him, it was like a trauma for him, getting in the way of every relationship he tried to be in, always having doubts about the other part, not able to trust her fully, he really has abandonement issues now.
"There is no need to bring back what happened in the past" u said getting him out of his thoughts, u turned off the blowdryer approaching him eyes softening now that he is close to u, ur guilt kicking in immediatly "m so sorry for what i did, i know nothing can excuse what i did but i wasn't mature enough" u said holding his hand in urs, he cleared his throat avoiding looking at u, pulling out his hand gentely and that was enough for u to know that he didn't forget u.
U sighed feeling bad but deciding to brush off the topic "so tell me, what r u doing now?" U asked hoping to get rid of the awkwardness noting how he didn't let a word out.
He smiled shrugging "i took over my dad's work"
U smiled back remembering how sweet his dad used to be and how good he treated u "i hope he is doing fine"
"He is" was all he replied with, taking a seat on ur bed "ahh right! Do u want something?" U asked after runing out of ideas to lighten the mood, he sighed hands massaging his forhead "i just wanted to ask if u have some pain relievers"
"Ohhh? Ur head hurts?" U asked hands busy searching in ur drawer for the said pills, taking it out and handing it to him "here" he took it from u thanking u and putting it in his pocket .
U sat on ur chair facing him now forgetting that u r still in ur robe that is about to open in any second now, ur hair isn't fully dry u look so... so tempting Jake's eyes can't help but stare at u head empty only u running through it.
"U don't want the guys to know that we were together?" U asked after talking for sometime now without getting a reply from him.
He cleared his throat again " ah idk i didn't know if u'd like them to find out so i chose to not say anything" he shrugged, u smiled at him he is still considerate as always "i don't really mind but since we didn't talk about it the first time let's just keep it between us"
He smiled back wanting to stay with u longer, seeing u now in front of him again brought back his old feelings towards u.
U heard ur phone ring on the table behind u "excuse me" u let out softly turning back and stretching to get it without standing from ur seat, exposing ur bare thighs and a faint sight of ur blue panties to Jake whose eyes were boring into u tongue darting on his lower lip , he gulped hands sweating and itching to feel ur soft skin, u smiled at ur succeed attempt to get ur phone seating properly now and answering ur call, Jake's eyes didn't leave u even for a second scanning the way u pout whenever something is not pleasing u, the way u roll the end of ur hair listening to what's been said on the other line, lips smiling from time to time flashing ur white teeth, everything about u was beautiful and he miss having u for himself.
U made eye contact with him in the middle of the call mouthing a sorry, Jake only smiling at u as he waited for ur call to end (but wishing it to take longer so he can drink in ur beautiful features more).
U ended the call that was from one of ur co-workers asking u about some file u wondering why tf they want that in the week end, u sighed looking at Jake noting the way he is looking at u.
"That took longer than i expected sorry"
He didn't budge even when u waved ur hand in front of him, only waking up when he heard ur soft voice calling his name and he almost let a sound out from that "are u okay? U r spacing out a lot" u asked concerned, eyes looking at the way his adam apple boped down before hearing him gulp loudly.
He shakes his head like he was in some sort of trance head dizzy as he inhaled u r fresh smell now that u approached him " m fine dw" u sat next to him, resting ur back on the wall and he followed ur movement head titling to face u " u r still as beautiful as u were" he let out making u blush a little bit as u give him a thank u chewing on ur lips fingers playing with the hem of ur robe.
He massaged his shoulders letting out a small groan and u turned to look at him he really look so tired "do u want me to give u a massage it's gonna help u relax a little bit" u said.
And he stayed still for a minute thinking about ur offer before noding in agreement, u stood up going to take an oil u use whenever u wanna relax "come on lay down" u rushed him and he did "i think it'd be better if u remove ur shirt" u said as he removed it and tossed it somewhere on the bed, u straddled his back he pressed his face on the matress upon feeling ur weight on top of him, his body shivering when the cold oil met his skin ur hands following after, massaging his nerves skilfully, he shut his eyes his body relaxing while releasing soft groans every now and then.
U were so good with ur hands he almost fell asleep if it wasn't for the unintentional scrach he felt on his back, u just continued working ur magic ignoring the way his body squirmed, u smirked a little bit knowing exactly how he liked that, u kept digging ur nails on his skin saying a sorry with a fake pout whenever u do so.
He could feel his muscles tensing up again, his forehead now resting on his hands teeth biting his lower lip not wanting to let a sound out, but it was impossible at this point especially when u brushed ur fingers faintly over his soft spot, u knew his body so well doing the most to get a reaction out of him, ur competitive side kicking out until a moan skipped his lips making u stop ur movements immediately "ohhh?" U said mockingly leaning forward until ur lips met his ears "u r still the same Jakey" he whimpered his hips humping the mattress shamelessly making u chuckle "what are u doing?" U asked faking a confused tone as u moved from his body standing in front of him. Jake titled his head looking at u confusion written all over his face, u cocked an eyebrow at him as he didn't stop his movements his eyes boring into ur body that was all exposed for him at this point, the robe not doing any job at hiding ur skin, the small curls at the end of ur hair still wet arms crossed waiting for him to speak but he didn't, u sighed clenching ur jaw slightly leaning forward lifting his chin with ur index finger "where r u looking? My face is here" u exclaimed wanting to get something out of him but his eyes are fixed on ur lips, u dart ur tongue on them watching how his own mouth is open almost drooling at the sight of you. Jake has always been like that, everything u did used to turn him on, and it looks like nothing changed.
U chuckled softely kneeling on the floor so u can face him blinking slowely as u caressed his cheeks titling ur head and getting closer to him until ur noses touched u were planing to tease him a little bit more but he rushed kissing u like he was starving for years, his lips moving so fast tongue rolling around urs u let go of his cheeks one hand now around his neck while the other one is searching for his hair tugging slightly as he moans in the kiss.
U left his mouth panting for some air, u looked his way and u can't help the heat that went to ur cheeks when u saw him, he looked so fucked out just from a kiss coming closer to kiss u again "so eager" u thought
U kissed him again his hands holding onto ur thighs, Jake now sitting properly without breaking the kiss making u also stand and straddle his lap, u started rolling ur hips slowly his hands following your pace, his thumbs tracing circles on ur inner thighs, ur hand going from his hair to his neck applying a small pressure and he groaned in the kiss.
"Shhh" u warned him and he whined in return making u smile in the kiss as ur hands traveled to his pants, unbuttoning them and sliding them down his knees along with his boxers, he let a deep breath out his body tensing up as he waited for u to touch him, the anticipation killing him.
"Please" he managed to mutter out his dick twitching in the cold air as his head tilted backwards and a sigh left his lips when u wrapped ur hand around his cock.
Ur thumb pressed on his slit collecting the precum that is oozing from it and spreading it along his length, his grip on ur thighs tighten as his body shakes under ur touch, he moaned in the kiss the need of breathing making him part his lips slightly, his moans were so loud despite him trying to stay silent his eyes were rolling to the back of his head.
His hips started moving up to meet ur strokes as his moans increased in volume, u felt him getting close, ur thumb now pressing on his slit again teasing him by stroking the base and going to the top before repeating the same process.
"Baby" he moaned against ur lips as his hips buckled upwards his stomach and chest rising, his hands are gripping ur thighs tightly, his nails digging in ur flesh, his toes curling as his mouth parted in a silent scream the only thing coming out of his mouth was a gasp as his eyes rolled back.
His dick twitched a few times his cum landing on ur robe and his chest, ur eyes were scanning the view, his head was still resting on the bed his eyes closed, his whole body shaking still feeling the waves of his orgasm, he was so sexy like this, and u can't deny that the thought of him getting off just from u stroking him made u so turned on, u were sure that your panties were soaked wet.
He was catching his breath when he felt u getting off his lap, he opened his eyes, his chest moving up and down, his dick still twitching as he saw the mess he made.
"Fuck y/n im sorry" he said trying to grab a tissue but his body was numb and his mind hazy.
U didn't pay him any attention going straight to ur closet pretending to get another robe and discarding the dirty one on the ground.
Jake was looking at u his dick already hardening again his eyes were roaming over ur body his gaze fixated on the curve of ur ass and the way the blue panties hugged ur thighs.
He wanted to eat u alive, he wanted to make u cry out his name, he wanted to fuck u, and u wanted the same, his dick was pulsating against his stomach, and all his senses were focused on u.
U felt his stare, turning back to face him a smirk forming on ur lips as u took a step forward and his hands were instantly on ur waist pulling u down on his lap, he attacked ur neck kissing, biting and sucking on it, he didn't want to leave a mark so he didn't suck for a long time, he went lower until his teeth bit ur collar bone his hands pulling down the new robe as his lips met the top of ur breast leaving kisses and licks.
"Oh" a sigh escaped ur mouth as u tilted ur head backwards, his right hand went down cupping ur clothed pussy while his left hand held onto ur waist for support.
He started moving his fingers, drawing circles on ur clothed clit, he didn't stop the movement of his mouth on ur breast as u started grinding against his hand. Jake was like a starving man, his touches so earger, his actions desperate.
U held onto his shoulders for support as he pushed u back laying on the matress, his body covering ur smaller frame as he started sucking on ur right breast his hand moving away the panties and entering two fingers inside ur pussy making you arch ur back as a gasp left ur lips.
His fingers were hitting the right spot and he went to kiss you again, his mouth making it hard to breathe, the pleasure was too much, ur eyes were watering, and his dick was rubbing against ur thigh, Jake broke the kiss panting like a dog delivering kisses on you stomach as his thumb was circling your clit, u were so sensitive his every move was sending shivers down ur spine, he was so focused on pleasing you, and it wasn't hard for him to get the job done, it's like he has been dreaming about this for a long time, he was now on a face level with your pussy he groaned biting his lips before replacing his thumb with his tongue, a scream slipped your lips and your back arched high in the air, his grip on ur waist was bruising, he didn't want to let go.
He hummed upon tasting you his eyes closed tongue going wild making it hard for you to contain ur moans and u were sure by now that if Heeseung was in his room he 100% have heard you, his room next to urs and that just added to ur heat making u go crazy, you were close by now already worked out just from earlier, Jake's finger went deeper making you let out a cry hands tugging at his hair and he moaned upon that "Cum for me" he mumbled against your pussy, the vibrations of his voice enough to make u reach your peak.
You cried out his name legs shaking uncontrollably, head dizzy, and chest heaving, and Jake didn't stop licking on ur clit not even giving u time to calm down and recover from ur first orgasm, "No-omg" your hands went to pull him away but instead you found them back on his hair pushing his face closer, his tongue was so skilled and u can feel yourself getting close again letting out small cries , the feeling of his tongue was so amazing and u can feel your whole body burning up, it didn't take long before u came again squirting on his face this time.
Jake pulled away his lips wet, face glistening with your juices, his eyes dark, "That's so fucking hot" he muttered licking his lips and wiping his face with his hands, he was looking at you hungrily, his cock red and dripping with precum, you wanted him inside you.
"C'mon here" u said pulling him closer for a sloppy kiss tasting yourself on his tongue as you started moving your hips, both of you were a moaning mess, the need to be close was so strong.
"Jake" u moaned against his lips and he hummed eyes still closed "fuck me" you said and his eyes shot open his mouth hanging open his breath got caught in his throat, and u smiled at him softly you were always a fan of his reactions always acting like he hasn't heard these words before as if it's his first time and you were sure that he was now going crazy, ur words made him feel like his heart is about to explode.
He didn't hesitate to get between your legs, his dick rubbing against ur wet folds as his mouth went to suck on your neck, your hands went to his back leaving red scratch marks as his tip was pressing on your hole, the need to enter was strong his eyes scanning your expressions as he entered you, a satisfied sigh escaped both of you lips, you were so warm and wet around him he didn't have any energy to start slow, his thrusts were hard and rough his hands holding onto the sheets as his hips met yours with a slap, the air was filled with your moans and the sound of skin slapping, the bed creaked underneath you and you could hear it hitting the wall, it's not a surprise if u end up with a hole in the wall, and he was going so fast he didn't give you a chance to adjust his cock hitting the right spots, "fuckk you feel so good Damn" he groaned his hips moving by themselves his head dropped enjoying the way you feel around him, your hands went to his back pulling him closer wanting to feel him deeper, his chest was now touching yours, his skin was so hot and he was sweating a lot, you can see his veins popping his mouth hanging open as his forehead was touching yours, his thrusts becoming more aggressive and it was hard to catch your breath, you can feel yourself getting close for the third time tonight your stomach twisting and your eyes rolling to the back of your head, Jake's hand moved away from the sheets gripping the headboard as he was slamming into you loving how you moan his name, he was close, so close, his dick twitched inside of you.
He was so lost in pleasure he had other plans for you but he forgot about everything focusing only on the delicious feeling of you he swear he hasn't felt this good since being with you, he doesn't know why but u just enjoys it more when it's you, his thrusts were now unrhythmic moaning as his hands went to the pillow and you let out a surprised yelp when his other hand grabbed a fistful of your hair pushing your head back loving how you look for this angle ,his cock was throbbing and pulsating inside you the knot in your stomach was so tight and you could feel yourself reaching your peak, Jake was grunting his eyes shut curses leaving his lips "fuckk fuck fuck" and you could feel the tears building up so sensitive from the previous releases and it was a matter of time before both of you came at the same time, he pulled out after spilling his seeds all over your stomach.
He let go of your hair and collapsed on the bed next to you, both of you were panting your minds were blank and the air was still thick, the room smelled of sex, Jake's hair was sticking to his forehead, his chest was moving up and down, the only sound in the room was the heavy breathing. You were laying there trying to come back from the high, you looked at Jake his eyes closed, his face still sweaty and red, your eyes moved lower, his chest and stomach are covered with his own cum and he didn't seem to mind.
You chuckled "what?" He asked eyes opening to look at you.
"Look at the mess" you said pointing at his stomach, he sat up a little bit checking it out wanting to say something but he stopped after seeing you crawling, ur hands dropping his body back as u leaned down collecting all the cum that was on his body licking it up making sure to leave no trace behind Jake had to slap himself to see if he was dreaming, his eyes were bulging and his mouth was dry 'fuck you are so sexy y/n" it was too much, too many feelings all at once, it was hard to control the heat pooling in his groin and he can feel himself getting hard again, he let a deep breath out when you stopped to show him the cum u collected before swallowing it.
"Fuck so dirty" he said pulling you for a heated kiss, your tongue battling his for dominance, he was already hard again his body was aching for u and u couldn't help but rub your pussy against his shaft.
"Please" he begged, and as much as u wanted him you were sure that your body can't take anymore, already sore from yesterday and the events that took place minutes ago.
"Next time Jakey" u said pecking his lips and he whined, his hands went down to rub your pussy and u let him, u were sure that you can't do it but a few moments later u were bouncing on his cock again.
-
You sighed after what happened Jake stayed with your for a bit helping you move to the shower wanting to help but u stopped him wanting to relax for few minutes and have an alone time and he nodded pecking ur forehead and leaving. You took longer than intended cleaning your body lazily, you went out expecting to find a mess in ur room, ur robe thrown on the ground along with ur panties and the sheets wrinkled but instead everything was neat your clothes on the basket another sheets on the bed and that alone made your day.
Jake was sweet and caring as always and ur heart ached with guilt, ur mind was still in shock from everything but you didn't have the energy to spend a long time thinking, you dressed up wearing a long blue dress with a small slit on your left leg, drying your hair only with a towel putting on some perfume and walking out. U heard some noises on the living room and u followed finding everyone except from Jake and Siyeon sitting on the table having breakfast
Jay's eyes followed your every move his jaw almost dropping, the sight of your thighs driving him insane and it was so unfair, "wow y/n u look so beautiful" Heeseung said devouring you with his eyes and Joy nodded her head while Sunghoon didn't say a thing his eyes scanning u head to toe while stuffing his mouth with food, Joy pulled the chair next to her patting it for you "come on". She is such a sweetheart and u can't help the smile forming on your lips, you took the seat sitting now between her and Sunghoon and across from Heeseung and Jay, a small groan slipping Jay's lips when he saw u sitting so close to Hoon, his eyes were dark remembering yesterday's night but he wanted to take care of you today not liking how he let u go without helping. He grabbed ur plate putting a big amount of various food and handing it to u making u chuckle "i don't think m gonna be able to finish this but thank u" u said softly making him smile as well "enjoy, u need to regain ur energy".
Joy and Heeseung were talking about something but u can't pay attention u didn't realize how much hungry u re until u had ur first bite of food. "I thought u were going out this morning" Heeseung asked eyes not leaving ur face wondering what kind of excuse u'll make after he woke up to ur moans and you could feel ur cheeks heating up remembering the events that took place just few hours ago, u cleared ur throat shaking ur head "i changed my mind" u replied trying to avoid eye contact and laughing awkwardly afterwards, Heeseung grinned nodding his head pretending to believe u "Ahhh i see" he said. Joy's eyes roamed on the table "Where is Siyeon?" she asked particularly no one and Jay answered "She still have things to do at her house but she'll be back this afternoon"
"Where is Jake?" Sunghoon asked after a while and Jay was the one to answer him again "He left few minutes they called him from work"
U nodded, it was obvious that he didn't want anyone to find out, "How did u sleep last night?" Heeseung asked u and Jay chocked on his drink while you almost spit your food, Sunghoon who was taking a sip of his tea was now coughing loudly, Joy turned to look at him her eyebrows raised "are u ok?" She asked and he gave her a thumbs up eyes watering, Heeseung was laughing at the reaction of everyone his eyes meeting with yours and you could feel the heat on ur cheeks. "Oh my god u look like a tomato" he commented still laughing and u kicked his leg with ur feet under the table so embarrassed wishing that a black hole could swallow u and take u away from this place.
Sunghoon was now smirking loving to see u in that state remembering meeting with you yesterday when u were about to head to ur room after getting out of Jay's room sweating, face flushed and lips swollen ur robe closed messily and ur hair was in a very terrible state, u stopped at ur steps upon noticing his shadow turning to see him in front of you and u really tried to act normal but there was no point of that at that rate, so u just decided to do what u do everytime = running to ur room and die from shame! u hated that it's Sunghoon who caught u all the time and u weren't sure that u'd be able to look at him the next day but u managed to do that somehow. The table went silent again until Heeseung spoke again "i was just asking cuz it was too cold yesterday and the heating system wasn't working for me so i went to ask u if it works for u but u wasn't in ur room"
"Ahh yes" u lied "i was probably in the kitchen i got so thirsty and i didn't bring water to my room before sleeping" u mumbled, ur words beating u making Sunghoon laugh again impressed by ur ability to lie that fast. Heeseung and Jay were grinning knowingly, Joy didn't seem to understand the whole situation but she shrugged continuing what she was doing on her phone. U finished eating not daring to lift ur head again rushing to clean the table and do the dishes and u almost tripped, ur legs still sore from earlier if it wasn't for Sunghoon who catched u his hands around your waist holding you close, he chuckled his lips next to your ear his hot breath tickling you "are u still thirsty?" he whispered making u push him away chewing on ur lips, he chuckled again "just kidding watch out ur steps" he said tickling ur chin and leaving, making u freeze on ur spot questioning wtf was that about before walking out to the kitchen.
Jay followed u the thought of u doing the dishes while obviously looking tired not clicking with him, he insisted to do them instead asking u to have a rest in ur room, u sighed defeated and went back to the living room not wanting to spend ur time alone knowing that u'll just gonna be having unnecessary thoughts so u hopped on the couch laying there next to Joy who was watching some random insta reels and she smiled creating more space for you "what are u watching?" u asked her softly, Joy positioned her phone to match it with ur sight "just some reels" and u nodded watching videos with her while talking about some random stuff, u sighed the mic on ur back making u uncomfortable, "u should sit in the middle" Joy suggested but u shook your head "it's fine" you replied and Joy frowned not satisfied but she didn't say anything.
After some minutes Sunghoon walked to the living room sitting accross from you, his eyes not leaving ur body and u tried not to meet his gaze, his stare was so intense and intimidating and u wished he ignored u like earlier, "y/n" he called your name and ur heart skipped a beat it was probably the first time u heard ur name skip his lips, Joy looked at him raising her eyebrow but watching ur interaction quietly "yes?" u answered voice almost unheard and Sunghoon smiled, he loves when ur all shy and awkward with him, he cleared his throat before speaking "u wanna go on a date with me?" he asked u making ur eyes widen u certainly was not expecting this from him especially and u were wondering for a second if u've heard him correctly "uh?" u managed to let out and Joy couldn't stop herself from giggling next to you, Sunghoon didn't lose his charming smile making ur insides melt not even bothering to repeat his question, u looked at Joy for help, this situation almost awkward, she was smiling at you encouraging you to give him an answer, "umm... sure" u said after some moments, Sunghoon was waiting patiently and he seemed happy with your reply and Joy clapped her hands excitedly "great then it's settled" she said and u could feel yourself drowning, not knowing what to do and what to expect ur face as red as Joy's phone case ur eyes still looking at Sunghoon who didn't drop his smile now smirking at u, his eyes so intense making u question ur respond "i hope i don't regret that" u mumbled only for u to hear.
This part has been sitting in my drafts for a long time sorry :( but yeah this was not how i wrote this part originally nd it really sucks that i didn't save it but yeah hope u enjoy ^^ the next part is gonna be super intense, spoiler: it'll be both Sunghoon and Heeseung focused and oh god this duo is a lot!
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