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#{ drabble }
swordsandholly · 3 days
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Thinking about a mechanic!AU where the 141 boys run a garage and need a new receptionist. They hire you because you’re just so cute (great tits) and have a decent resume but it becomes a slight problem when they realize you’re a bit… dense.
Total ditz to be precise.
But they can’t really get mad when you get the keys for clients mixed up and look at them with those big eyes all teary and a little pout pushing out your lower lip.
Price is the most patient, perfectly content to walk you through how to file paperwork and fill out forms. Instructing you in a low voice while his breath brushes the shell of your ear. It’s really their fault for having such a terrible system, you know? Don’t worry about it too much, dove. He’ll settle his big hands on your shoulders and gently trace up and down your arms. See? You’re getting it. Just needed some more practice, hm?
Johnny is more than happy to show you around the garage, rattling off everything he knows about all those nitty gritty details that go right over your pretty little head. He’ll pop open the hood of some sports car and point to the engine to show it off. No, bonnie, you’ve got tae get in close. Closer.
Until you’re bent entirely over in one of those too-short skirts you wear everyday. It takes all his willpower not to yank you into the supply closet.
Gaz is just so sweet to you. Always bringing you little treats and candies to suck on. To help you concentrate, of course. Always greeting you with a soft ‘baby girl’ at the beginning of your shift. Whenever you’re standing around be it at the printer or counter - wherever really - he’ll slip a hand on your waist. It always trails a little lower, his pinky just edging on the hem of your too tight jeans.
Ghost gets frustrated with you to the point of causing tears to well up in the corners of your eyes. He’s feels guilty, sure, but bloody hell just print the damn receipt. He avoids you for the most part. Until one evening when it’s pouring down. You forgot your rain coat of course, silly girl. He offers you a ride which you take happily.
After that he can’t get rid of you. You bring him coffees (how you remember his order word for word but not where you last left your own cup is beyond him) and giggle at his jokes. When a client gets too snappy or too loud he’s the first to step in - standing behind you glaring at them with his huge arms crossed over his chest until they back down.
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dragon-ascent · 2 days
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You vent to Chonkli about your god, unaware that Chonkli is in fact your god.
Rex Lapis' first time shape-shifting into his tiny dragon form is an interesting one, to say the least.
There he is, a fluffy and chonky little brown creature sunbathing on a rock. And there you are, bored and lonely and- "Oh my gosh! You're soooo cute!"
Before he knows what's happened, you've scooped him up and are giving him allll the kisses known to mankind, cradling him like he's a newborn.
"Squishy baby! Fluffy baby! Squishy fluffy baby!" Swaying him around, you coo at him when his tail wiggles (involuntarily, he would argue). When you bring him back to your face for more kisses, he tries to paw at you softly; he's met with an affectionate nom to his paw.
You sit down, still holding Chonkli tenderly, stroking his fur (he purrs in satisfaction). "Honestly, perfect timing. I've been wanting to get something off my chest, but people would probably take it the wrong way, so I'll tell you instead! It's about our deity, Rex Lapis."
Chonkli perks up, alert.
"He's nice and all, and he takes good care of us, but...he's kind of scary! Probably because of his resting bitch face."
"Rawr?" Chonkli tilts his head - this is news to him. Not that he even understands what a resting bitch face is, but still!
"And like... he does praise us, but he does it with a straight face! I can't tell if he's being genuine or not!" You sigh, holding the chonky dragon tightly, missing the way he's started to wiggle. "Sometimes when I see him, his very presence makes me want to run away screaming!"
"Oh, please do not be afraid of me." In the blink of an eye, he's turned into a man, his gentle golden gaze trained on you. His head is on your lap, and he's sitting on the ground against the bench you're seated on. For the first time in his life, he has a small pout on his lips.
You stare at him, slack-jawed, your hand in his hair where his fur was supposed to be. He stares back, eventually realising this may be a nasty shock to you, so he pulls away slowly, never taking his eyes off you. Then, after what seems like an eon, you scream.
The god, not wanting to make things worse, murmurs a "Forgive me," and hastily excuses himself from the scene.
...For the next few weeks, you're paranoid that any living creature you see could be Rex in disguise.
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euno11a · 2 days
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”Simon, you need to promise me you won’t get mad…” you said as you looked at him from the opposite side of the couch.
his brows furrowed as he looked at you, “Can’t promise, love.”
you nibbled your lip, picking at the skin on your cuticles before finally spitting it out. “I have a crush on someone!”
you’ve seen Simon in many ways - when he’s angry, sad, happy, horny and that beautiful look he gave you when he saw you on your wedding day, but nothing would’ve ever prepared you for the look you got when you said that. He looked like you hit his heart a thousand times. “Y’what?”
“I- I have a crush…and the problem is, I can’t stop staring and thinking he’s the most handsome guy. And when he stared back at me, I got butterflies and felt myself blush.”
He sat quietly, listening to you as you rambled on about your new crush…at least you were telling him and not cheating.
You let out a small sigh, “He makes me nervous and giddy; not nervous in a bad way, but nervous in a ‘I just want him to lean in and kiss me’ kinda way. Like, ‘Hey, my phone buzzed and I hope it’s him’ kinda way. And when I get ready to go out, I struggle to find the perfect outfit because I wanna look just right…”
that feeling of comfort he once had with you, his wife, was just fading away so easily. After all the shit that had happened to him, you were the last one he thought would do this to him. He stood up and ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head and walking off to the front door.
you got up and ran over to him, grabbing his arm. “Si, where are you going?” You looked at him, trying to figure out what made him upset.
“Away. Let y’have yer time with your new lad.” His voice was stern and full of venom. But it only got worse when he saw you crack a smile.
“Simon…no, lovie, I was talking about you! You’re the guy I have a crush on…and I know it’s gushy, but I feel like a teenager again every time I look at you. It’s your fault for being so handsome.” Your voice gentle as you cupped his face and pressed little butterfly kisses to his cheeks and nose.
he could do nothing but stand there dumbfounded. “Y’need t’find a better way of sayin’ shit, doll. Thought ye were bout to leave me…” his voice got softer when he said that last bit.
your eyes softened, knowing how it sounded to him. You sank to your knees and pressed small kisses to his sweatpant clad thighs, earning a small groan from him. “Wha’re you doin’ love?”
“Apologizing…” you said, staring up at him through your lashes as you pulled his sweats down.
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cod-dump · 3 days
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Ghost’s handwriting either being “this looks like a font” or “can you rewrite this?” and there’s no in between. He’s not immune to it, he’s looked at reports he wrote the day prior and went “What the fuck does this say??”. Price can read it (somehow) and that’s what matters.
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❝𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞❞─ Lucifer Morningstar.
"Tell me." Lucifer kept his gaze on you, even through all those years, all those millenniums you were still beautiful. He wondered why it took him so long for him to realize his feelings for you.
You were created for him, his father created for you to be his wife but yet he didn't choose to stay with you. No....he picked Lilith.
"Tell me you're mine"
Lip's quivering, you dug your nails into your palm shaking your head. "You know...I waited so long for you to say that." You didn't notice the tears running down your cheeks, couldn't feel them. It was something you were used with him.
"How I would wait in the garden, watch you with her and I just thought. Why can't it be me? Was I not good enough? Would I ever be good enough."Your voice was soft as your gaze misty, remains on him
Lucifer could feel the guilt building in his chest, that nagging feeling eating at him. You were right of course and he hated himself for hurting you, for hurting the one who was meant to be his life.
Lips pulling into a bitter smile, you let your wings stretch as you turned your back to him. "How can I be yours when you never wanted me in the first place."
He didn't get a chance to respond, he didn't get s chance to beg you to stay, he never got the chance to apologize for breaking your heart.
He should have told you, but he was too late to fix this. He couldn't fix this.
Because someone else already captured your heart.
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A/n: wanted to write a little angst blurb before I pass out. Will be up later to write.
The someone who captured your heart can be anyone. <that's not Lucifer>
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mascdestr0yer · 3 days
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heyy if you don’t mind could you write something abt paige teaching her non athletic gf how to play basketball?? i just love reading some paige fluff, ur writing is really good btw ! 💓
for the team
(not like that !)
Paige bueckers x fem!reader
Warnings: there really aren't any, not that I know of.
Synopsis: Coach Geno made a bet between Paige's girlfriend (you duh) who is always (not all the time, he's dramatic) at the team's practice, if you make a shot from half court he would cancel practice for a week.
Requested !
I feel so coolness, keep the requests coming please ! Thank you for the compliment, luv you all ! -millie
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"baby you have to actually try," Paige huffed, rubbing her temples. "Your aim is way off."
"I am trying ! It's hard," I whined, giving her the basketball. "You do it then, since it's soo easy." I crossed my arms, waiting for her response.
"stop being a brat, a'ight. Back up a little, let me show you how real pros do it." She dribbled the ball a few times as I backed up to watch, she bent her knees slightly as she shot the ball from half court, she made it. She surprised herself, but shook it off.
"no fair, you have years of experience.. and luck." I whined as she passed me the ball. "Noo, I don't want it." I whined more, passing it back to her.
"And I don't want practice, so either you keep practicing or my whole team will literally drag me, especially KK." She demanded, my frown becoming more visible, her expression quickly softening. "I didn't mean it like that, m'sorry. C'mere," she dropped the ball, letting it roll as she pulled me closer by my waist.
"you were so close, so why give up now? Come on, pleasee," she pleaded, gently holding the side of my face.
"fine, but you owe me." I say looking up at her. Her hands falling to my ass, squeezing it gently, with a smirk. "Paige !"
"my bad," she chuckled as she pulled away, walking over to get the basketball that rolled away. She picks it up and passes it to me. We got right back to practicing, for almost an hour.
┌──❀*̥˚───❀*̥˚─┐
Tomorrow,
The whole UCONN wbb was sitting on the sidelines as Coach Geno passed me the ball, I was standing half court.
"do I go now?" I asked softly, really nervous.
"Y/n if you miss-" Ice starts, Paige quickly cutting her off.
"stop, she's already nervous."
"both of you, please shut up." Azzi says, and she looks me in the eye nodding slightly.
I dribbled the ball.
One
Two
Three...
I bent my knees slightly, just like Paige did last night and I shot it. Everyone held their breaths crossing their fingers. Geno's eyes squinting to see if it'll go in or not.
I made it !
Loud cheering begins as the team ran over to me, Paige picking e up in spinning around. KK running around the courts yelling, Nika looked so relieved, thanking me. Paige puts me down quickly to run around with KK. Ines began skipping towards me and she hugged me tightly, thanking me.
"I can't breathe.."
"oh- sorry," she let go of the hug, Paige and KK running over to me.
"Y/n boo, you did that," KK hyped me up, Paige wrapping her arm around my shoulder.
"can we get chipotle?" I asked Paige, looking up at her, since she was driving.
"anything you want, I'll get it, extra chicken, extra guac, allat. I'll buy you boba too-"
"me too?" KK asked.
"definitely not." Paige said almost immediately.
"that's why you suck at rocket League,"
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wttcsms · 3 days
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triple trouble, atsumu miya
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pairing atsumu miya x f!reader word count 1.6k synopsis atsumu steals every reporters' attention as he introduces the media to his triplets during a post-game interview; or, more accurately, his triplets steal all the attention. like father, like sons. content contains domestic fluff, dad!atsumu, atsumu & reader are married and so in love, babies, mention of pregnancy more in this collection!
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The flashes of cameras going off, the constant exclamations of “Miya! Miya!” coming from the crowd of journalists and reporters all vying for his attention, the fact that the foldout chairs they use for all these post-game interviews are harder on your ass than falling on asphalt — all of this is being handled with ease by a smug Atsumu Miya.
Or, normally all of this would be handled with ease by a smug Atsumu Miya.
But right now, the Atsumu Miya struggling to take a seat in the most uncomfortable chair known to man, dyed hair a mess, his usual trademark smirk replaced by furrowed brows and a look of concentration, doesn’t appear to be the godlike adversary on the court. In fact, he looks oddly human. 
The cause of what has humbled this cocky athlete and reduced him to mere mortal man are the three chubby toddlers he’s cradling in his arms. 
All of them are identical, from their chubby cheeks to their little grubby hands. Heads full of thick, dark brown hair (reminiscent of their father’s natural color) poke out from Atsumu’s hold, and the eighteen-month-olds’ eyes are all full of childlike wonder as they watch the crowd, confused as to who all these people are. 
After finally getting settled into his seat, Atsumu addresses the crowd casually, as if he didn’t spend the last two minutes ensuring that his baby boys weren’t going to slip from his arms while he tried to prepare for this interview. Akimitsu is secured in his left arm, Akihiko in the right, leaving poor Akinari to cling onto Atsumu’s neck. 
While athletes have been getting more comfortable with bringing their kids up on stage with them, no one has ever seen a professional athlete haul his three babies with him. 
A fact that one reporter is more than happy to point out.
“Miya, wife put you on babysitting duty?” A male journalist calls out from the crowd. A few chuckles follow, but Atsumu just smiles at the mention of you.
“Nah. It’s not babysittin’ if they’re your damn kids, right? Besides, she deserves a break.” A few appreciative murmurs flutter through the crowd. 
After the initial surprise of seeing identical triplets being carried in the MSBY Black Jackals’ setter’s arms, the reporters are back to business as usual. They’re all professionals — even if hearing Atsumu give them a great quote to use as a hook (“I respect Nakamura as a human bein’ but calling him a setter for a professional league volleyball team is an insult to setters everywhere.”) is followed by him cooing sweet words of affirmation to whichever of his sons happens to be babbling in his ears. 
“Nakamura isn’t a very good player, is he, Akihiko?” No one outside of your family and his teammates have ever heard Atsumu sound so affectionate. His words are practically coated in sugar, and it’s hard to remember that he’s insulting another player in the league whenever he’s practically bumping noses with his toddler son when he says it. 
Akihiko, most likely due to his father’s influence, lets out a stream of enthusiastic gurgles that Atsumu automatically translates to him being in complete agreement with him. 
“Write that down.” He says to the crowd. “Even my baby knows he’s shit at the game.” 
There’s a few more minutes of Atsumu answering the usual post-game questions, but halfway through one of his responses, Akinari loses his grip on Atsumu’s neck and is about to tumble to the floor before Atsumu’s reflexes kick in. You’ve made a joke once that you think Atsumu’s reflexes have become heightened after becoming a father; his athletic instincts have merged with the famous “dad reflexes” all fathers seem to be gifted with. (Atsumu tells reporters that this is why he keeps on becoming a better player; people think his family would hold him back, but once again, family is his greatest blessing.)
“Ya gotta hang onto me, buddy.” Atsumu can’t even pretend to be stern when he tells this to Akinari, who only smiles at him and exclaims something unintelligible. He shifts Akinari to his left arm, relaxes back in his seat, and is even excited to answer a question concerning his play style compared to Tobio Kageyama’s, but as he readjusts the two boys in his arms, Atsumu can’t help but startle at the fact that he has three kids. Not just two. 
Momentarily panicked, he almost wants to ask why the hell no one told him one of his kids jumped ship but then he feels a tug on the bottom hem of his volleyball shorts. 
Peering under the table, Atsumu is greeted with the sight of Akimitsu’s mischievous little face. He’s the oldest of the three and takes after Atsumu the most — meaning, he’s the cutest little nightmare there could ever be. 
“Whatcha doin’ under the table, Mitsu?” Atsumu asks, and Akimitsu gives out a happy, gleeful shriek. He’s clapping his grubby hands together and cheering. 
“Dada found me!” 
“I did find ya, buddy.” Atsumu coos. “Now why don’t you come sit on daddy’s lap?” 
After wrangling up all his kids once more, Atsumu sighs and looks up at the timer in front of him. 
“I have enough time for one more question.” He tells the crowd.
“Are you excited to get out of here and get back home to the wife?” 
“I’m always happy to come home to [Name]. If there’s a professional league for motherhood, she’s going into the hall of fame. I don’t know how she handles these fools by herself all day.” 
Akihiko takes a tiny, chubby hand and smacks Atsumu in the face. Repeatedly. 
“Home! Home!” His slaps get slightly more aggressive, but Atsumu’s received some serves with his face before, so it doesn’t really phase him. “Home! Mama!” 
“Well, you heard the man.” Atsumu actually gives a genuine smile for the cameras. “We gotta head home.”
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You’re applying your moisturizer in the bathroom despite the mirror being fogged up from the hot shower. It’s probably why you don’t anticipate strong arms wrapping themselves around your body, and you gasp before your muscle memory recognizes him. Your body easily relaxes against his, and you’re smiling as you ask your husband, 
“Had a good day today?”
“We took ‘em in two straight sets. Slaughtered the other team to the point where it wasn’t even fair.” He angles his head just right so he can kiss you on the cheek, but you gently slap him away.
“I’m putting on moisturizer right now.”
“Great. My lips are dry.” He goes in for another kiss, and even though you’re giggling, trying to pull away from him, he still plants a peck on your soft skin. “Should I go for seconds, just for good measure?” He teases.
“Hmm, I guess so.” 
“Oh? What’s with the change? Realize how much you can’t live without my touch?” He pulls you in closer to him, your back pressed firmly against his chest. He’s fresh out the shower, stray droplets of water greedily clinging onto his skin. 
“Maybe.” You tilt your head back on the front of his shoulder so that you can see him. “You know your interview is trending on Twitter, right?” 
“Oh, yeah? Bet Nakamura’s pissed.” Atsumu sounds too happy at the concept. 
“No. There’s actually an interesting clip that keeps going around. Someone already used it as an intro for a thirst edit of you.” 
You like it when Atsumu is thinking. There’s an adorable crease in between his furrowed brows, and you can practically see him going through the memory files in his brain, trying to figure out what could possibly be worthy of inspiring an edit of him. 
“You seriously don’t know?” You’re laughing at him, and it’s the sweetest sound in the world. Atsumu doesn’t take kindly to being the butt of a joke, but from the moment he saw you, he knew he’d do anything to stay by your side, even becoming a fucking court jester if that’s what it took. 
You reach for your phone on the counter, taking a few seconds to load up the fan edit you have favorited. 
He’s burying his face in your hair, hiding away as he hears the audio of him going now why don’t you come sit on daddy’s lap playing on a loop. He groans when you let it replay, uncharacteristically shy as you keep telling him to watch it. 
“The comments are the best part, though, baby!” You haven’t been able to stop giggling at jackingthejackalsoff’s very bold and very true statement of yeah, if i were [name], i’d pop out triplets for him too tf 😭🙏.  
As Atsumu’s hands travel to rest against the growing swell of your belly, you tease him. “So, when the twins are born, do you think you’ll have enough space in your arms to haul all five of our kids, or should we finally use that baby chest carrier Shoyo gifted us?” 
“I can carry all of ‘em and you onto that stage.” He regrets making this smug remark whenever you slightly drop your teasing tone and use what he dubs The Mom Voice on him.
“Oh? If that’s true, then why did it take you so long to realize Akimitsu crawled out of your arms while you were busy calling your opponents scrubs?” 
“Have I ever told you what a wonderful mother you are? And this moisturizer! Wow, I don’t know what you’ve been doing with your skin, baby, but keep it up.” He’s peppering your face with more kisses, hurriedly trying to change the subject, and you gladly let him.
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cute-sucker · 21 hours
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"❀˚ rafe is so attentive to you. he might be busy ‘handling business’ all the time, but he’ll drop everything if something’s bothering you. he wants you to live a cozy, carefree life, physical proof to you and everyone else that he can maintain that for you. so, when you show up at tannyhill with tears in your eyes, he goes straight into problem solving mode. ˚❀༉‧₊" - (x) inspired by @maiiuelle
you were in a foul mood. one that left you nothing but in shivers, and sniffles. you were holding yourself together until you saw rafe. you had started working lately, telling rafe that you could handle it and that you hated the way that he had to pay for everything. 
you worked at a meek small cafe, serving tables, and coming home greasy and bubbly. sometimes you'd bring free leftover fries, and rafe would kiss you, telling you that there was enough money to pay for it. but you liked it. you liked the simplicity rafe liked seeing you happy.
but today everything was horrible. from the way that the day started from the way you felt in the beginning. you had hit your toe on the door and chipped a nail. then there was a man who yelled at you for getting his order wrong, and you ended up having chunks of potato puree in your hair after a toddler grappled for the food you were serving.
so there you were at tanyhill. staring up at the daunting building, as hot tears streamed down your face. you felt caged in as your arms were wrapped around your body. you felt small, almost as if you could disappear the moment something was uttered.
rafe had given you the key to the house. that's the way he was, giving you small things. giving you small things that you'd always hold close to your heart. sometimes he'd just gaze at you, kiss your forehead and call you his "sweet girl," and you felt your whole body blaze with a fire. and so you gently swung open, the hall echoing with emptiness, you felt yourself smile gently. 
tanyhill reminded you of rafe. and rafe reminded you of good things. yet your foul mood followed you, and somehow there was this inkling feeling that rafe wouldn't allow you to keep your job if he knew how horrible the service was. 
but you couldn't help yourself as you bundled in rafe's bedsheets, smelling that scent of his, and wearing one of his polo's. your hand ached towards the phone, yet you held back. he was probably handling business, but it was finally when you picked up the phone and dialled his number. he picked up in one ring.
"rafe?" you sniffed out, your voice scratchy.
"what's wrong?" rafe murmured back. you could almost hear the alarm in his voice and could feel the way he was probably pacing around. he was probably going to be in trouble. that caused you to wilt even more, as you tried to stammer out your sentence. 
"i need you." 
˚❀༉‧₊˚.
you could imagine what rafe was thinking. he was probably worried. worried out of his mind, as you sat in his bed, messy bed head and tears streaming down your face. you heard the creak of the door opening, and there he was.
you saw him, eyes soft as they traced your body. there you were, eyes rubbed red, and a pout on your face. you seemed almost in disbelief, as you stared at him. finally, you jumped into his embrace. it was warm. it was home. you could hear his heartbeat. 
your voice was slurred as you whispered words out, still seeking his warmth.
 "you came." 
it was only here you took a peek at his face, a soft smile was sprawled across his face. 
"you called." 
maybe that was when you realised you loved him. 
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spencer reid x reader drabble, smut 18+
summary: spencer masturbates in the shower to the thought of you
౨ৎ⋆⭒˚.⋆ 𐙚✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ 𐙚. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧𐙚⋆⭒˚.⋆౨ৎ
spencer is standing in the shower, hot water spraying down on him, steam filling the room. his thoughts are on you and he feels a familiar tug he can’t ignore, his hand seemingly acting on its own accord as it trails down his stomach towards his aching, already half hard cock. his fingers lightly thread through his pubes, spending some time there before moving his hand to his balls, fondling them lazily, almost teasing himself by denying himself the touch where he wants it most. his head falls back as he enjoys building himself up more, his thoughts on you, your lips, your warm, wet mouth. finally, because he can’t bare it any longer, his hand moves to his cock, his flat palm rubs up and down the length of it before fully tightening his grip around it, fisting it up and down. he begins to pump a little faster, a little harder, stopping for a second to allow his thumb to swipe over the tip. flashes of you fill his vision — fuck, he wishes his hand was yours. he braces himself against the tiled wall of the shower with his free hand, widens his stance a little as he continues pumping his rock hard cock. “oh fuck,” he whispers to no one, as he increases the speed of his hand. he’s fully whimpering now, unable to stop the small whines from escaping his mouth — god, he’s getting close. your name falls from his lips, his hand movements becoming more erratic as he teeters on the edge. he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, his hips are rocking into his hand, he’s not gonna last much longer. fuck, his vision starts to turn white as stars explode behind his eyes, he tumbles over the edge as needy whines pour from his open mouth, white hot cum spurting onto the shower wall, the floor. god. he starts to come down, his chest heaving, body trembling slightly as he regains awareness. steadying himself, he moves to stand under the spray, turning the water to cold.
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punkshort · 2 days
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What did a day in the life look like for Joel & reader, during the peak of their relationship, before her accident?❤️‍🩹💘
Never Enough
An I Know Who You Are drabble
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Warnings: smut (18+ MDNI), fluff
WC: ~800
A/N: At the peak of their relationship, they were very soft for one another. It took a while for them both to get there, each of them pretty hardened by their own traumas. So when reader lost her memory and Joel had to start over with her, he took it really hard but tried to hide it as best he could. Obviously, suppressing his feelings didn't work out too well but let's take a look back at a simpler time.
Joel usually woke up before you, his internal clock way too finely tuned to allow himself to sleep in. You normally didn't like to sleep touching him because he ran hot as it was, but if it was winter and you were cold you always found your way into his nook.
Coffee was a must for both of you in the mornings. Most of the time you barely spoke on the days you had patrol until you had at least half a cup of coffee in your systems. You didn't like heavy breakfasts but you needed something or else you got too lightheaded, so you kept it simple. Maybe some fruit or a piece of toast. And if you were making yourself something, you always made sure to make some for Joel, too, because he was terrible at taking care of himself.
You didn't mind. You actually liked taking care of him.
On the way to the barn you would talk about which routes you were assigned that day, or you would ask how his back was feeling, or he would ask how you slept the night before.
Always before parting ways, you would make sure to kiss him. You never rushed that part because you never took a single day for granted.
It was rare you got paired up for patrol together. Both of you were seasoned and your roles were to mentor the younger groups, so typically you were paired with someone greener.
Whoever got back first always waited for the other to return, then you would walk back home together. Usually it was in the afternoon so sometimes you cleaned up around the house while Joel restocked the fireplace with wood. Sometimes you would go to the warehouse and restock your pantry, other times you would help Maria watch Violet.
Depending on the day, you might go to the dining hall with Ellie, but if you were particularly tired or if Joel didn't feel like being around people (which was often), you would stay home and cook something together.
Usually both of you ached after a few days of patrol in a row, so sometimes you took a bath together. He would sit between your legs and rest his back against your chest while you washed his hair. His eyes would close as he got lost in the feeling of your nails gently massaging his scalp, all the stress and tension melting away under your touch. He would skirt his fingers lazily over your soft curves under the water, making you shudder. He adored being the one to get those reactions from you.
Admittedly, your sex life wasn't as wild as when you first met. Over the years it became more intense and loving rather than frantic and needy. He made sure you felt every inch of him while he dragged in and out of you, slow and deep, pulling the sweetest sounds from your throat. Little whispers of his name in his ear, murmurs of I love you against his throat, whines warning him you were close and don't stop and you feel so good.
No matter how many times he fucked you, it was never enough. Each time set his heart on fire. The feel of your soft skin under his rough hands, the taste of your wet heat all over his mouth and beard, the feel of your hips grinding against his while you bounced on his cock. He never felt more close to you than in those moments where he was buried deep inside you, doing everything in his power to make you feel good and give you everything you needed. He loved watching you fall apart, your perfect face contorting in pleasure before you stilled and your eyebrows relaxed with a sigh. He loved the feel of your cunt squeezing him when you came, fluttering and pulsing around him. It always brought his own orgasm to the surface within seconds, pulling out of you feverishly, usually without a moment to spare, and spilling his release all over your thighs or ass or stomach or breasts.
Afterwards, he would clean you up, but he would be lying if he said he didn't take a moment first to admire the way you looked: all satiated and relaxed and covered with his spend.
You curled up against him and wrapped your arm around his stomach while his hands wandered over your shoulders and back, soothing you to sleep with kisses pressed into your hair.
You brought out a softnes in him. No one else got to see that side of him. He reserved that just for you.
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frickingnerd · 3 days
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izuku comforting you after a nightmare
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pairing: izuku midoriya x gn!reader
summary: after a nightmare, you sneak into izuku's room and he helps to comfort you!
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“you’re trembling… what happened?”
the moment you opened the door to izuku's dorm room, he immediately noticed something was off. it was the middle of the night and you were shaking, hurdled in a blanket and looking distressed. izuku quickly sat up in his bed and rubbed his eyes, patting on the free spot on his bed, where you soon sat down next to him.
“i… i had a nightmare…”
you felt so stupid for letting something that was just a dream get to you like this. but you couldn't help but still be terrified after what you had dreamed of. even if it wasn't real, the fear you felt now was certainly the real thing!
“it's alright…”
izuku gently wrapped an arm around you and pulled you into a hug. his strong arms held you close to him, as he softly spoke to you.
“it was just a dream. whatever scared you can't hurt you anymore. not while i'm around!”
you felt tears of relief in your eyes, but before they could threaten to spill out, you closed your eyes and cuddled closer to izuku. the boy didn't say a thing, simply holding you, until you were ready to say something.
but when he noticed how silent you had become after a couple minutes, izuku gently shifted you in his arms, to get a better look at your face. and sure enough, you had fallen asleep again. izuku smiled and pressed a gentle kiss on your forehead.
“sleep well, you have nothing to worry about anymore. you are safe with me…”
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Text
the girl next door 6
Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.
Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.
Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.
This lewk but silverfox
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You can’t remember the last time you had the house to yourself. Even if your mother’s just next door, it feels a little lighter around there. And you’re happy for her. Maybe having Steve around will be good. He can be an outlet so she doesn’t have to put all her frustrations on you. 
She was happy when she left, even excited. That’s another rarity in your life. 
You start your day off with a tea. The apple cinnamon bags are a bit old so you use two. You bring the cup into your room and get your table set up with your pencils and sketchbook. You open the window to let in the sunlight, the natural light much brighter than the yellowed bulb above. 
You know your mom would tell you to do something more useful than just scribble in your sketchbook. You got the dishes done last night. Steve offered to help but you deflected as you foresaw your mom’s disapproval. You can’t let company pick up your slack. 
You try to wipe away the anxiety of last night. It’s over now. You shouldn’t have worry very much about it again. 
You finish your tea. It’s cold by the time you get to the dregs. You sit back to look over your sketch. Your eyes feel a bit fuzzy from hyperfocusing on that one stamen. You rub your brow and yawn. The sun shifts and you look over at the old alarm clock on your nightstand. It’s close to noon. 
Something else catches your eye. You look up at the window across from yours. The curtain ripples around the gap before it’s pulled open from inside. Steve stands on the other side of the pane. Can he see you? 
You can’t tell as he turns away without acknowledgement. The glare of the sun should hide your room well enough. You never really thought of it as your blinds are closed more often than not. 
You get up to rinse out your cup. You stretch your legs as you pace in the kitchen. You’re restless. You’re so used to your mom and her demands and expectations, that having your own time feels aimless. 
You could surprise your mother with dinner. Have it in the oven when she comes home. It’s still early but you can make something more than boxed macaroni. It will be a good cushion to fall back on when you remind her about tomorrow’s appointment. 
🏠
When your mother returns, you can see the fatigue around her eyes. For as little as she goes out, you’re not surprised. What strikes you, is how happy she is. You help her to her recliner and she sighs as she leans back. 
“Such a nice man,” she keeps repeating.  
You smile and let her regale you with a recounting of her day. Still, you can’t help but wait for the pendulum to swing back to normal. She leans her head in her hand, her eyes distant. 
“I swear, the universe sent him to me,” she says, “it had to. It was how much I need someone.” She drops her hand and traces her finger around the armrest, “sick, got a lazy daughter, stuck in this damn house...” 
There it is. You frown. You mash your hands together and waver. 
“I made dinner,” you offer. 
“I don’t want KD,” she snips. 
“I made... I made shepherd’s pie,” you offer meekly, “should be almost done.” 
“Hm, wondered what that stench was.” 
You frown. “I can put it in the fridge for tomorrow. Be good to have something we can just heat up after the doctor’s.” 
“Doctor?” She grumbles, “eh... I forgot.” 
She slumps and her eyes dull. You can’t help the pang in your chest. Sometimes you wish it was you who was sick. It feels like you deserve it more than her. 
“Hopefully it’s good. If you can get the surgery--” 
“Surgery!? Surgery. You keep going on about the damn thing,” she barks. “They can’t fix me, girl, get that through your head.” 
“I know, mom, but they can help--” 
“Like you help me? Crittering around here like a rat!” She hits the armrest violently, “would ya leave me be?” She closes her eyes and turns her face away, deflating once more, “ruined a good day...” 
You sniffle and slowly turn on your heel. You should have known better. You should have just left her alone. As much as she rants about you staying in your room, she prefers you there. Out of sight, out of mind. 
🏠
The next day, your mother doesn’t say much. Her silence is just a bitter as her words. You don’t push it. She gets in the car without argument and you set off into town. Even if she says it’s a waste of time, she listens intently to the doctor and answers all his questions. It’s only when she has to go through the tests that she shows her agitation. 
After some hours spent at the specialist clinic, you’re free to go. Your mom is just as quiet. You feel her mood roiling in the air. Her hand is shaking to the point that she’s hissing at it. 
You steer down to the corner and linger at the stop sign. 
“Mom,” you squeak, “you want some orange julius? A treat for the way home?” 
“Don’t talk to me like a damn child,” she snarls. “Let’s just go. I’m tired. Got no blood left in me.” 
You nod and bite your tongue. Maybe you can just put her to bed. Her naps are a respite, though you find yourself anxious in the silence, terrified of waking her prematurely.  
As you pull onto the suburban avenue, you slow and approach your drive. You pull in and shut off the engine. You get out and go around to help your mom. You open her door and she hauls herself out, tisking under her breath. 
“Didn’t see him,” she mutters. 
“Good afternoon,” Steve’s voice answers your question before you can ask. You look over the hood as he waves from his porch, “busy day?” 
Your mother steels herself and forces a smile, “just went to the doctors.” 
“Oh, everything okay?” He asks. 
“Sure,” she chimes, “just some tests. Nothing serious.” 
“Good to hear,” he stands behind the porch railing, arches crossed, “day’s not over yet. Still lots of time to enjoy the sun.” 
“Mhmm,” you mom grabs onto your wrist, shaking you as leans into you. “Nice day out.” 
“I was gonna do up a milkshake, if you ladies wanted to join me I got plenty to go around.” 
“Milkshakes?” Your mother considers, “mm, I’d have to change out of these.” She looks down, “smell like a hospital.” 
“Sure, take your time,” Steve says, “how about you, honey? I got strawberry. You seem like a strawberry type.” 
“Eh, she’s more a vanilla type,” your other cackles. “Plain.” 
“Got that too,” Steve ignores the joke. “I understand if you’re tired out though. Don’t wanna be too desperate over here, just wouldn’t mind the company.” 
“I’ll be over soon,” your mom assures him, “she’s got some laundry to do.” 
She keeps hold of you and points you towards the house. You help her inside, even though she does her best to hid how she clings to you. Her steps are uneven and stunted. You get through the front door and help her sit on the chair you keep by the door, just in case. 
“Goddamnit,” she’s shaking pretty bad. “Help me, you dumb girl.” 
“I... I don’t...” 
“Get my goddamn inhaler. I forgot it this morning.” 
“Oh, uh, okay.” 
You hurry down the hall and to bathroom. It isn’t in the cabinet. You go back out and scan the table. Not their either. You find it next to her recliner. You wish she’d keep it one place. You go back to her and hand it over. 
“I’m gonna go over,” she says before she huffs from the canister, “you’re gonna stay here. Out of my way.” 
“Alright,” you agree. You prefer that anyway. 
She takes a minute before she gets up. She shooes you away and you retreat to your bedroom. You sit on your bed and wring your hands, waiting as you listen to her. She doesn’t say goodbye before she leaves. Only the front door slamming lets you know she’s gone. 
You exhale and pull the fold out table up to the edge of the bed. You open your sketchbook and stare at the pencil. You don’t feel like drawing but you have nothing else to do. You just sit, looking at the amaryllis. You can pick out every flaw in your work. You close the cover and frown. 
A knock startles you and you stand up. Oh gosh, it’s probably Marge. What is it now? Is the siding too stained? Are the steps crooked? You get up and shuffles down the hall. You open the front door, hiding behind it as you poke your head around. 
Steve has the screen door propped open against his elbow. He holds a tall glass filled with pink, “here. Figured I’d bring this over.” 
“Oh, uh, thanks,” you accept the condensating glass, a wide straw poking out of the whipped cream topped drink. 
“Maybe next time you can pop over too,” he suggests, “I’ve been working on getting the pool going...” he grins, “it’ll be a good summer for it.” 
You nod and look down at the milkshake. 
“Really nice of you,” you say. 
“It’s nothing, sweetie,” he puts his hand on the door above him, looking down at you, “enjoy.” 
“Uh,” you look at him then at the straw. You don’t want to be rude. You put your lips around the tip and take a sip. “Mm, yup, good. Thank you.” 
His blue eyes stick to you and he drags his hand down the door, “I’ll make a deal. You come over to see the pool when it’s ready, and I’ll make you another. How about that, sweetie?” 
You push your lips out. It’s not nice to say no. He didn’t have to bring you the milkshake or invite you. You shrug. 
“Okay,” you agree, “erm, thanks again.” 
He nods and taps the door frame before he steps back. He gently closes the screen door and you watch him through. He turns and strides down the stairs. You shiver as the cold glass numbs your fingers. Hopefully, he forgets about the pool thing. You don't even have a suit.
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mirage-aera · 2 days
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•°. *࿐ Sick days || JH86
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ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Love Lost - Mac Miller, The Temper Trap
Synopsis: Sick days usually aren’t fun. Especially for Jack. He hates them. But you somehow always make it better.
Word count: 1.401
Masterlist
Am I watching the canucks game while writing this? Yes, and stressing over it
When they said that men are always the most dramatic when they catch the common cold, you didn’t believe them. You thought it was an exaggeration. But the way Jack has been acting the past three days? Yeah, it’s not an exaggeration. You’re both curing his cold while nursing your own headache. One that’s been a product of his whining. This man is acting as if he’s on his deathbed, a damsel in distress, a whiny little-. You love him, but you wouldn’t be opposed to the idea of sedating him for a day so that you could get some peace and quiet. You would like to know how Ellen handled him whenever he got sick. It’s almost unbearable.
“Babyyy?”
“Am I dying? It feels like I’m dying.”
“Everything hurts…”
“More medicine? I don’t need it. It’s disgusting.”
“Can you please get me a painkiller? I do need it…”
The need to hit him with a pan to knock him out for a few hours is concerningly high. You’re trying to be patient with him. He’s not feeling well, and not being active, those are things that he hates and you know that. You’re really trying to be patient with him. However, he makes it very hard to when he’s whining every other minute.
You hide yourself in the kitchen to make sure Jack will leave you alone for a minute. You absentmindedly stir canned chicken soup in a small pan. When it starts smoking you take it off the heat and grab a bowl. You pour the soup into the bowl and grab a spoon. You carefully walk to your bedroom with the bowl, a bottle of water, and a pill. You open the door a little wider and walk up to him. He sniffles but manages to crack out a small smile. “There you are. I missed you.” He says softly, making your heart melt. Sick as ever and he still manages to make butterflies flutter. “I was only gone for a minute.” You say gently as you place the bottle and pill on his nightstand. You hold out the bowl of soup. He grimaces at the sight of it. You give him a stern look. “You need to eat something. Otherwise, you won’t get better. And make sure you take a pill after or while you eat.” You can’t help but fuss over him a bit.
He groans in response but takes the bowl from you. He starts eating at a slow pace. You sit by his bedside and watch him eat. Pale, sweaty face, hair pointing in all sorts of directions, and yet he still is so handsome to you. He notices that you’re staring and glances at you. He lets out a raspy chuckle. “There’s nothing noteworthy to stare at right now.” You smile and move his hair out of his face. It’s starting to become a little long again. “There’s plenty to stare at. You’ll always be pretty in my eyes.” His eyes shine at your comment. “Pretty?” He asks with amusement in his voice. You roll your eyes but can’t help but let a grin creep up your face. “Sorry. Handsome.” He smiles triumphantly. “That’s what I thought.”
He soon finishes his bowl of soup. You take it from him and set it aside. You hand him the bottle of water and the small white pill. He takes it from you. You notice how clammy his hands are. You frown as you watch him down the pill followed by big gulps of water. You place the back of your hand against his forehead. Your frown deepens when you feel how warm he still is. He knows better than to fight you back so he lets you do your thing. “Your fever is not letting up. You should get some more rest. That might help.” You say softly. He nods and slides underneath the blankets. He pulls it up to his chin. You gently run a hand through his hair. “I’ll be in the living room. Just holler if you need me.” You say softly. Although, you’re secretly hoping he’ll sleep for a couple of hours. For both of your sakes. “Alright.” He croaks before shutting his eyes. You watch over him until you’re sure he’s fallen asleep. You get up carefully and make your way to the living room.
***
Time passes by quickly when you’re finally able to relax. You check the time on your phone only to realize Jack has been sleeping for a while now. You get up from the couch and quietly walk back towards your bedroom. You peek your head in only to see Jack snoring away without a care in the world. You smile at the sight, happy that he’s getting some rest. You realize that the blanket has slipped down a little. You carefully walk up to him and tuck him back in. You tuck the sides underneath him. Tightly wrapping him up in the blanket. He looks like a burrito. A 5’11 burrito.
You step back and take in the sight. You let out a quiet snicker. You pull out your phone and take a picture. Saving that for later. You look at him one more time before leaving the room and going back to the couch. You throw yourself down onto the couch and look at the picture you’ve taken. You snort. Jack’s going to kill you for sure once he finds out. You send it to the Hughes brothers group chat that Jack has ever so kindly thrown you into.
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Another hour passes as you’re peacefully watching something on the television. You laugh at the conversation going on in the group chat. You hear some rustling from the bedroom. You’re about to get up when you hear a hoarse holler. “Baby!” You chuckle, “yeah bub?” He lets out a loud groan. “You did not send that picture in the group chat!” You let out a laugh and make your way towards him. You snicker when you see his phone in his hand. The group chat is still open. “I did. It was way too hilarious to pass up. You were like a burrito. Or should I say a Jackrito? One of a kind.” He pouts at you. “Really? A Jackrito? Was that necessary?” He asks, almost offended by your shenanigans. You snicker. “Yes. It’s funny.” He crosses his arms and huffs. “I don’t find you very amusing right now.” He retorts before he gets into a coughing fit. You pat his back, helping him through it. “You’ll find it amusing when you get better.” He glares at you and shakes his head. He stops coughing. “You’re still in trouble. Don’t forget that, because I certainly won’t.” You let out a snort. “Whatever you say bub.” You look at him affectionately. You suddenly get a great idea. “I should send the picture to your mom.” His eyes widen at what you said. “No!” He exclaims. You burst out into laughter. He huffs and pulls the blanket over him. “I’m glad you are having fun while I’m dying.” You roll your eyes. “Now you’re being dramatic again. For the millionth time, you are not dying Jack. You simply have the common cold.” He lets out a raspy chuckle. He lifts the blanket slightly and pulls you into him. He covers you both with the blanket. “It feels like I’m dying, especially when you aren’t around.” You can’t help but smile at that, despite his theatrics. You can feel yourself getting tired. Even though it isn’t that late yet. The warmth he’s emitting is so comforting. You let yourself fall asleep in his arms.
***
A week later he’s back on his feet. But he transferred his germs to you. You’re as sick as a dog. He walks into your bedroom with a bowl of soup in his hands. “This will make you feel better.” You glare at him. He laughs, “are you still mad at me for getting you sick?” You nod, “what do you think?” He snickers and sets the bowl aside. He sits by your side and rubs your arm tenderly. “I said sorry baby. But…” he trails off. He shows you a cheeky grin. “It’s only the common cold. Don’t be so dramatic. You still want to hit him with a pan. “I hate you.” He rolls his eyes before planting a kiss on your forehead. “I love you too. Get better soon, okay?”
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injuries-in-dust · 13 hours
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Trall leaned back in their chair as they took a sip of Stimulate liquid.
The place was so nice and quiet, they were finally getting their paperwork done.
Nice and...
They jumped to their tentacles. Stimulate Liquid fell to the floor but went ignored. Trall hurried from the room as fast as they could parambulate.
The place was quiet!
What the heck were those humans up to?
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Simon Riley, who's been surrounded by death for longer than he can remember. It's become harder and harder to remember the years without it. Whether the ones who fall are the soldiers beside him or enemies at his own hands no longer matters to him, not really, not like it should.
Ghost, who becomes used to watching that final spark leave a set of eyes before they become glossy and empty. It takes him years to notice that final little thing. Nothing more than a reflection, but She's there.
Ghost, who questions Price and Soap, quietly and reluctantly, but they don't understand. They don't get it like he does. And it doesn't make sense, he knows it doesn't. Soldiers are known to go insane after too long in the field, perhaps that's what's happening to him.
It's after not sleeping for 60 hours that he sees Her after all, sweeping or floating through the battlefield, draped in every colour on the spectrum and not a single one of them. Ghost has never seen a face like it, and he knows he never will. All of Her reeks of paradoxical features and curves that swirl and change whenever he thinks he's finally grasped some aspect of Her. She bends down, soft and caring, as the final light slips from his teammate's eyes, and She carries him with her while his body remains.
The second he tries to stop Her, reach out and touch her, his hands slip through her. For one moment lasting years and less than a second, She glances at him. He doesn't blink, but She disappears anyway.
Years pass. Ghost recognises her. Always. In time, she watches him through reflections. She follows him wherever he goes. But there's nothing cruel about it. It's impossible with the sad smile shining from Her. It's not something she does but rather something that she is.
Ghost, who no longer has any true fears on the battlefield. It's simply another work day. But it changes when he sees Her. How She looks at him. He isn't afraid of Death but he manages to stagger back. Running is futile, he's seen others feverishly try to crawl from Her, fingers scraping at the ground until the skin wears away, a bloody trail following the leg no longer there and all of it with no use. Fighting is quite the same: as impossible as this entire thing is improbable.
"Shhh." Something beyond a voice, coming from his own head, he's sure, coos. "So close to me. You rarely ever are. How long has it been? No... you're alright, my love."
Ghost stops. She's infinitely tall yet he looks down at Her. Her smile isn't sad as She stretches a hand towards him, lifting the bottom of his mask, and that's when an inkling of fear finds him. For years, She's been his sole comfort on the battlefield. A single neverending entity he could always trust to be with him no matter how many years were to pass, but after wishing for so long to see Her, have Her closer, he wants nothing more than hundreds of miles to separate them.
"Is it time?"
"Afraid not, love." She smiles with a thousand pleasant summer days and cosy winter nights. "I have a job to do, but you've been close to me for so long. I want to see your face before I go."
Death lifts the skull, removes every layer until his scarred skin is visible to Her.
"How can I see you?"
"What a wicked thing it is." A sigh falls from wonderful lips as She caresses his cheek with a cool touch. "I'm sorry, Simon."
"Simon..." He repeats, tasting the foreign word.
She's fading.
"Wait! How can I-"
"Don't worry, love. No matter what, you'll see me again at the end."
Ghost becomes worse, more than he's ever been. With enough blood on his hands and enough souls at his feet, he can see Her again. He haunts the battlefields like never before, staring into the eyes of his victims for the mere chance of catching a glimpse. However long, no matter how many bodies it takes, he will see Her again.
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I've had this in my ideas doc for, like, years, and I just needed to get it out lmao. I'd love to write a full fic but unless I'll get 30 hours in a day, I don't have that kinda time lmao.
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Note
Hey! Can you do an Adam x Reader wher he reacts to you pregnancy cravings? Thank you again? Have a great day!
A/n: i feel like adam would try to steal the food at first ��
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"What the fuck you eatin babe?"
Snapping your head up, you narrowed your eyes pulling the plate of ribs towards you with a side of peanut butter near you. "Food"
Taking another step towards you, your husband pointed to the peanut butter. "Ya, but what is that shit you're dippin it." The man wrinkled his nose as you tore off a piece of meat slathering it with peanut butter.
"What do you think?" You snapped as your lips then started to quiver. "Am I disgusting? You think I'm gross don't you."
Adam's eyes went wide, panicking as he knelt down beside you. "Oh no! Babe...I don't think it's disgusting! It's cute that you're combing these food's together!"
Sniffling, you ran your tongue across your lips as you gave him a smile. "Really?"
Brushing one of your tears away, Adam nodded his head as he then tried a piece. "Ah hey! This shit is good."
Placing his hand on your growing belly the man let out a laugh shaking his head. "See the kid knows his food, just like his old man."
"Adam!" You let out a small whine as you let your arms around his neck. "I'm hungry."
Biting back a yawn, the lan wrapped his arms around your hips pulling you into his lap as he placed a small kiss to the nape of your neck. "Well what do you want then babe."
"Tuna fish and chocolate milk"
"I...." Adam paused then cleared out his throat slowly nodded his head. The things that you've been craving, never in his life he'd seen these strange ass combinations but this was you. He would do anything for you. "Sure babe."
Giving you a smile, he placed a kiss to the side of your head as he gave your hips a squeeze as he lifted you up. "Anything for you."
Biting back a yawn, you smiled rubbing your belly again to sooth the kicks as you watched him leave to grab the food. "Thank you!"
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