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#PEEP THE TV PLEASE
rowarn · 7 months
Text
MONSTER (m.)
neighbor!simon riley x reader
tags: zombie apocalypse au, neighbors to lovers, afab!reader, no pronouns, hurt/comfort, smut, NO MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH
cw: description of corpses, simon is aggressive towards you, but also very soft!simon, protective!simon, violence, simon does murder someone, lots of kissing, wet&messy sex, multiple orgasms, edging (simon), missionary position, mating press, fingering, cunnilingus, creampie, breast play, squirting, overstimulation, dirty talk, pet names, eye contact, praise, teeny bit talkin u thru it
note: i think that's all the neccessary warnings but if u think smthn else should be added, let me know. please enjoy this MONSTER fic!!!
; you find yourself hiding out in your apartment as the undead begin walking. luckily, you have a well-trained military operative as a neighbor who is more than willing to keep you safe.
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“Residents are advised to remain in their homes. Authorities are unsure what is causing the severe aggression in people but the military has been called in nationwide. Please stay tuned as more information becomes available.” 
That was the first news broadcast. They reported  people getting sick-- airborne is what they had said. Stay inside, and stay away from other people. 
So you did just that – stayed hidden away in your apartment, glued to your television for every possible news cast that you could get. 
It was only a week later that the whole story had come out. 
The airborne strain is what caused the first swell of infections. Anyone who was susceptible to the infection would have already become sick by now. But those who were infected by the airborne strain turned…feral. They became like wild animals, barely human. Their skin rotted around them while they were still alive. Their brains died but their hearts remained pumping. They were walking corpses that had a vicious hunger for human flesh. 
The bites are what caused the following wave of infections. Something in their saliva turned you into whatever they were. 
You were scared. When you looked outside your window, down just a few floors to the ground, you could see hordes of people stumbling around, shuffling and shambling. 
Sometimes you would hide in your bathroom as the sounds of gunfire filled the city. It was the worst when it was the middle of the night. 
You weren’t equipped to deal with a disaster of this level – humans turning into disease spreading killers. You were having to ration your food, waiting for the day that there would be an announcement that it was safe. 
You wanted it all to be over. 
Then the news broadcasts stopped, cell service dropped, and the populace was left in the dark. 
You kept the lights off in your apartment, scared that the wandering hordes outside would see it and find you.
You had no idea how long you had been hiding in your apartment, spending most nights with your knees to your chest as you watched the static on the TV. You held out hope that the news broadcast would come back, but it never did. You spent the days and nights in mundane monotony, hopelessness settling in. 
The only interruption was a heavy knock on your front door, practically making you jump out of your skin at the sound of it. You hadn’t expected anyone to actually approach your apartment in search of you. It terrified you that anyone could be out there at a time like this.
With wide eyes and trembling hands, you grabbed a kitchen knife off of your counter and tiptoed towards the front door. Peeking through the peep-hole, you let out a heavy sigh of relief. 
Throwing the door open, you were faced with the familiar balaclava of your neighbor across the hall.
“Simon…” you whispered in relief. 
He wasn’t lunging nor did he have the milky-white eyes of the undead that you had seen on the news. He was normal. 
“What’re you planning to do with that?” he asked, eyeing the kitchen knife still in your hand.
“Oh!” you gasped, quickly placing it on the table by your front door, “Sorry, you– you– startled me when you knocked. Would you like to come in?”
His lidded, brown eyes gaze around your apartment behind you before landing on you again, “You have anyone else in there?”
You blink and slowly shake your head, “No, I’m alone.”
His brows furrow at that, “You’ve been by yourself this whole time?”
You shrug and nod, “What else was I supposed to do? The news reports said to stay inside…”
He hums, “Are you sick?”
“No, I’m fine,” you respond quickly, “Why?”
Suddenly there’s a hand on your forehead and you realize he’s checking your temperature. You remain still and allow him to do it before he's shoving his hands in his hoodie pockets. 
“Fever’s the first symptom,” he explains, “I’m goin’ door to door to check on everyone.”
“Oh!” you gasp, smiling, “That’s very nice of you, Simon.”
You knew that Simon was in the military. He was often out on long deployments and sometimes he had tasked you with keeping an eye on his apartment since you were right across the hall from him.
He was a nice enough guy, if not a little cold and blunt. He was tall and broad, clearly well built despite the fact that he usually wore a hoodie that hid his biceps from view. You’d gotten glimpses of his tattoos when you had knocked on his door one evening and asked him if he knew anything about water heaters because your hot water had been out for nearly a month in the dead of winter and the apartment manager hadn’t done anything to help you.
Simon had kindly come to your apartment, even though it was nearing midnight, rolled his sleeves up and fixed your problem within the hour. You had baked him cookies as a thank you that following weekend. 
“How is everyone doing..?” you venture to ask, leaning against the doorjamb as a breeze flows into your apartment from the open door.
He casts a glance down the hallway, almost like he’s thinking before sighing, “Few people are sick. They’ve been…” he hesitates for a moment, “Quarantined.”
“Probably for the best,” you respond, “Keep them from hurting anyone when they…turn.”
It feels so surreal to be talking about confining people to keep them from literally eating the healthy people. But it seems that’s where you’re all at now. 
“I’m going to barricade our floor,” he says suddenly, “Keep anyone from comin’ in that’s not supposed to come in.”
“What if we need to leave?” you ask, concerned, “We’re only going to have finite food and resources between us. The power’s also going to go out sooner rather than later, Simon.”
“I know,” he sighs, “But we should stay indoors for as long as possible. When the power runs out and we run out of supplies, we can figure out what to do next,” he explains, “The military was on the ground here last I heard, you’ve heard the gunshots. I don’t believe they’ll last much longer but it’s not wise for us to go out while they’re tryin’ to eliminate as many of these…undead as they can.”
“I guess that makes sense…” you whisper before his words finally settle on you, “What do you mean you don’t think they’ll last much longer..?”
He levels a hard stare at you that makes your heart race in anxiety. Simon was always a serious individual by nature but this is how you imagine he looks when he’s on duty, “Hundreds of thousands of people are sick out there. The airborne strain no doubt got to hundreds of the soldiers meant to be protecting the civilians. Eventually, they’ll eat each other from the inside out –literally.”
“You mean even the military is going to collapse..?” you ask, horrified. You try not to let the tears fill your eyes but Simon’s words fill you with a dreadful sense of hopelessness. 
“Communications are cut,” he says finally, “Radio’s been silent all day. Not sure what’s goin’ on but it’s not good.”
The tears quickly began to fall down your cheeks. Before you could wipe them away, a calloused thumb was doing it. You sniffled and looked up at him.
“I-I don’t know what I’m supposed to do,” you confessed softly, “I don’t know how I’m supposed to survive, Simon.”
“Don’t you worry about that, love,” he whispered, grabbing your chin gently to make you look up at him, “I’ll take care of you, yeah?”
“I don’t want to be a burden…” you explain, wrapping your arms protectively around yourself. 
“Wouldn’t be the first time I took care of you,” he joked, though it held little humor, “You won’t be a burden. I’ll teach you what you need to know, alright?”
“You will?” he nods when you look up at him hopefully and you smile, “Thank you, Simon. I don’t really want to die by getting eaten by walking corpses.”
He chuckled under his mask, brown eyes crinkling around the edges a bit, “It is pretty fuckin’ mad, isn’t it?” You laugh, the first genuine smile you’ve cracked since before that first news broadcast, “Why don’t you come across the hall and stay with me, yeah?”
“Is that okay..?” You can’t deny the idea of being with company sounded more appealing than anything. You were definitely beginning to feel the ebbs of loneliness creeping in on you as the days of silence passed. Plus, Simon was…safe, “The news said not to…mingle in case of the disease spreading.”
He scoffed, “Rules like that don’t really apply anymore, love,” he mutters softly, “Plus, neither of us is sick so it’s not like we’ll spread it anyway. I can teach you some knife work and how to use a gun easier if we’re together, yeah?”
“Okay,” you smile, excitement surging in your chest, replacing the painful void of hopelessness you had, “Let me just get some things together and I’ll be right over, okay?”
“Sounds good, love,” you can tell he’s smiling under the mask. He gives you a pat on the shoulder before stepping away, “Just knock when you’re ready.”
You stand in your doorway until he disappears into his apartment. Once you’re alone, you cast a cursory glance around your living room, eyeballing everything you need to take before you dash into your bedroom. From the back of your closet, you grab a duffle bag that you have stowed away in the back of your closet from when you first moved in.
Navigating in the dark of your apartment was a bit of a challenge but you managed to stuff all the essentials into the bag. After slinging it over your shoulder, you step out of your apartment, making sure it was locked before knocking on Simon’s door. 
He opened it quickly, still wearing the same hoodie, jeans, and balaclava as before – his hood still up as well. He stepped aside for you to enter.
Unlike you, his apartment was illuminated by lamps – but his windows were covered with blackout curtains so no light would seep outside. It was pretty plainly decorated, just the essentials and a few photographs on the walls; upon closer inspection it looked like him and, you assumed, his comrades. 
You went to place your bag down but he stopped you, “I cleared out a drawer for you to put your clothes in for the time bein’.”
“Oh…” you gaped at him, surprised to hear that he had done something like that for you, “Thank you, Simon.”
He led you to his bedroom, standing in the hallway while you walked in. His bedroom was darkly decorated, black out curtains on the windows, navy blue sheets and a black comforter on his bed. His furniture was all dark toned as well. 
It suited him, you thought.
There were two drawers open and empty, letting you know that those were yours for the taking. You knelt down and opened your duffle bag, carefully folding and placing your items inside. When you got to your undergarments, you cast a glance towards the door to find that he was no longer standing there. Breathing a sigh of relief, you quickly filled the top drawer with all of your delicates before closing the drawers and standing up. 
Flicking on the light to his en suite bathroom, you placed your toothbrush and toothpaste alongside his, the sight making you blush before you went to add your belongings into the shower as well. 
Realistically, you knew that the water was going to go out sooner or later but you planned to enjoy it for as long as you possibly could until then. 
When you ventured into the living room, Simon was in the kitchen, the cabinets open as he scanned over all of his belongings.
“Is something wrong..?” you asked softly.
“Thinkin’ of how to ration,” he replied quickly, “Have you got any stuff over at yours still?”
You nod your head, “It’s not much but I have some canned food and like...rice and stuff if you want that.”
“Yeah, it’ll be good to consolidate all our supplies in the long run,” he explained, “You got your keys?”
“Yes!” you pull your keyring from your pocket and drop it into his open palm.
“I’ll be right back love, make yourself at home,” he gave you a gentle nudge towards the couch before leaving you there. 
You took a seat on the couch, realizing just how tired you were. You hadn’t realized how tense you’re been for so long on your own. Now that you were safe and with company, you could almost feel the tension sliding right off of you. You rested your head against the back of the couch and closed your eyes, intending to just rest your eyes and enjoy the peace you felt. 
You were startled awake by the sound of the door slamming shut. You nearly jumped out of your skin, wide eyes finding Simon’s who looked a little sheepish.
“Sorry, love,” he whispered, “Didn’t realize you’d be sleepin’.”
“Didn’t mean to…” you confess, standing up and stretching, watching Simon lug a bag of food into the kitchen.
“Haven’t been sleepin’ well?” he asked, his back to you as he began to stock up the cabinets. 
“Not really…” with a sigh, you lean back against the counter with your arms crossed over your chest, “I’ve been stressed about this whole situation.”
“It is…” he pauses in his words, placing a bag of dried beans into the cabinet, “Nothing I’ve ever seen before.”
“Society is really collapsing around us, isn’t it?” you bravely ask, although you were scared to hear the answer.
“Yeah, darlin’,” his voice is softer than you’ve ever heard it and that brings a fresh wave of tears to your eyes.
“This is so fucked up,” you cry, burying your face in your hands, “Thank you, Simon. You didn’t have to offer to help me and I really owe you a lot.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he closes the cabinet, the bag he brought finally empty before turning to you, “I’ll make sure you know everything you need to know to survive.”
“I doubt I’ll be as good as you,” you joke, a crooked, wobbly smile on your face. 
He steps forward and cups your chin, brushing his thumb against your cheek, “No one’s as good as me, sweetheart.”
You chuckle softly at his words. 
This is what you needed – someone by your side to keep you sane as society collapsed and everyone that you knew died. 
That night, you slept better than you had in days. Simon had given you his bed, offering to take the couch. You had argued, telling him that you couldn’t take his bed like that. 
“I’m up most nights anyway, love,” he had assured you, “At least someone around here can get a good night’s sleep in that bed.”
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When you woke up, fully rested you might add, Simon was already awake, drinking some tea. You sat down beside him, enjoying a nice quiet morning.
“How do you feel about learnin’ some basics today, love?” he asked when he was cleaning his mug. 
“Sure!” you agreed, “I have to warn you though, I really know next to nothing…”
“That’s alright,” he chuckled, waving to you to follow him to the living room, “I’m a good teacher, I promise.”
“I don’t doubt that,” you watched as he stood up and went to a closet in the hallway, pulling out an assortment of bags and carriers.
He placed them down beside the couch and took a seat next to you. “I think it’s best if we start with you gettin’ comfortable with the feeling of holding a weapon in your hands,” he explained, pulling out a knife bigger than any you’ve seen, “This is a hunting knife.”
He handed it towards you, his fingers confidently gripping the blade between two fingers. You wrapped your hand around the handle, testing its weight in your hands. It was dangerous and nerve-wracking, holding a weapon in your hands. 
“I know it’s scary,” he assured, “But when you’re comfortable holding knives then you can learn to use them properly to protect yourself.”
“What about guns..?” you find yourself asking, still gripping the knife in your hands, turning it over and adjusting your grip just to desensitize yourself to it. 
“We’ll tackle guns when you get used to knives,” he replied.
“So you have guns?” you ask, letting him pull the hunting knife from your hands.
“Of course I do,” he reaches into a bag by his feet, pulling out a pistol. 
Your eyes go wide as you watch him handle it effortlessly, checking the chamber and moving it around in his hands like it wasn’t a dangerous weapon.
“When you’re ready, I’ll teach you to properly use one so you can use it in case of an emergency,” he explained, placing the pistol on the table carefully.
“I’m going to have to kill other people…” you mutter to yourself.
Simon pulled out another knife, passing it into your hands, “Combat knife,” he supplied simply, “And you’ll have to kill them but…I don’t think they’re people anymore, love.”
“I guess that’s true…” you mutter, holding the knife with a firm grip, “I’ve only seen them on the news before it stopped broadcasting. What about you?”
“Haven’t seen ‘em in person either,” he replies with a shrug, “Some of my…teammates,” the words seem awkward coming from his mouth but he continued, “Were givin’ me some information before they went radio silent.”
“What happened to them?” you couldn’t help but ask.
A brief flash of sadness flashed over his eyes but he quickly sobered up, leaning back against the couch with a sigh, “Not a clue. I guess there’s no way for me to know. I just know it was getting bad. Dangerous.”
“I’m sorry about your teammates,” was all you could find in supply of an answer.
Simon didn’t respond, simply letting his gaze fall back on the knife, “Let me show you some handling techniques for you to practice.”
Realizing that he didn’t want to talk about the world outside anymore, you let him lead you through a crash course on knife handling and knife safety. He took the time to teach you the different kinds of knives in his possession and you nodded along as best you could but if you’re being honest – it was primarily lost on you.
You’re not sure if Simon knew that but he seemed to enjoy teaching you, so you let him ramble on to his heart’s content. 
By the end of the day, you were confident enough in at least not accidentally cutting yourself on the sharp blades. 
In order to repay him, you made dinner for the both of you – though, really, it was just some heated up canned soup-- and did the dishes for him so he didn’t have to.
By the end of the night, you both found yourselves on the couch, watching a movie he had put on. With there being no way to watch anything else, you were grateful he had a collection of movies to his name – you simply streamed your favorite shows and movies and called it a day. 
It ticked late into the night and before you knew it, you were falling asleep on the couch, leaned against his shoulder. You could feel him shift and knew you should open your eyes, but the tugs of sleep at the edges of your subconscious kept you from doing so. Suddenly, you felt the soft beat of his heart against your ear and the heavy weight of his arm laid across you. You briefly registered that you were now wrapped in his arms before the final tug of sleep pulled you under.
When you woke up, you were in bed. 
And Simon wasn’t in the apartment. 
“Simon..?” you called, looking around everywhere for him – to no avail. 
You ventured to the door, carefully pulling it open and stepping out. You looked down the hall towards the stairwell before you heard a grunt of effort from the other end. 
“Simon!” you called, making him look up.
“What’re you doin’ out here?” he asked, pausing in his task of pushing a large bookcase towards the elevator. 
“You weren’t inside…” you mutter, wandering down the hall towards him, “What’re you doing?”
“Barricading this elevator,” he replied, giving the heavy object another push with a grunt of effort. 
“Oh, right, you mentioned you wanted to do that,” you mumbled, taking a moment to look over him.
He wasn’t wearing his hoodie for once, instead wearing a tight black t-shirt that was sticking to his skin with sweat. He wore his jeans with a holster and gun on his hip as well. 
“Do you need any help?” you asked but he shook his head.
“No, you can’t help with this, love,” he grunted, giving the bookcase one final, heavy push before it was flush against the elevator doors. 
It was then that you noticed the straps nailed to the wall. He took them and secured them to the other side of the elevators, making sure the bookcase was fastened firmly. 
“Enough people push this and it’ll come down but at least it’s secure enough,” he explained, giving his work a final once over.
“Do you know where the others are?” you find yourself asking as he makes his way to the other end of the hallway
He pauses at that, seemingly thinking of his next words carefully, “I checked door to door. Most of our neighbors got the hell out to go see their families when everything went to shit. A few…were sick and turned in their apartments so I had to…put them down.”
You cringed at his wording, you knew he was trying to phrase it delicately for you but you weren’t sure if you would have preferred him to just say he killed them. ‘Put them down’ made it sound like they were rabid dogs and not people you once knew and smiled at in the halls. 
“Found some notes in some of them,” Simon said suddenly, waving you to follow him back to the apartment – to safety, “Guess we can only hope they made it to their families in one piece.”
“I hope so,” you muttered optimistically, slipping past him when he opened the front door for you.
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You quickly realize how difficult it is to tell how much time is passing with Simon’s blackout curtains, which he refused to allow you to open for fear of attracting any unwanted attention. With there being no more news broadcasts or anything on TV, you didn’t even know the date anymore and you were too scared to ask for fear of knowing how long you’ve been living like this. Your food rations were slowly dwindling but neither of you talked about it. 
You know you’re still waking up in the mornings and sleeping at night – Simon seems to run on an extremely specific schedule. When you asked him about it, he told you it was from the military, which made sense. Either way, you were grateful to him for helping you keep on track.
The water and power were both still on, but Simon kept telling you not to keep your hopes up about it lasting long. 
You spent your days learning knife etiquette and practicing stabbing various targets that Simon made for you. You’ve grown much more confident. Of course, you would be no match for your teacher himself but against a bumbling walking corpse? You were sure you would be able to at least buy yourself time to escape if you needed. 
Eventually, Simon decided it was time to move onto what you were most scared of – guns. 
“I’m going to tell you a few things before I let you hold this,” he said, eyes hardened to show how serious he was as he held a pistol in his hands, “Are you paying attention?”
“Of course,” you breathe, wringing your hands in front of you as you eye the weapon.
“You can’t be scared of your weapons,” he advises, “You need to be confident and sure with every movement you make. It’s not a toy.”
“Hard not to be scared of it…” you confess, “What if I hurt someone with it or…I don’t know.”
“That’s why I’m teaching you all this,” he says, “You’ll get confident and less scared the more you handle them. We’re startin’ you off simple and you can build up to bigger and badder guns. For now…pistols will do.”
“Okay,” you swallow around the nervous lump in your throat, “Tell me what I need to know.”
“That’s the spirit,” he praises, holding the pistol up for you to see how he grips it, “First, never put your finger on the trigger unless you’re going to shoot. Just rest your finger on the side like this, see,” he turns his hand and lets you see the way he keeps his finger hovering beside the trigger rather than on it. 
You nod your head, “Got it.”
“Take it,” he says, “Carefully.”
You stare at the offered weapon for just a moment before you reach out and delicately take it from his hands, “Next, never point it at anyone you don’t intend to shoot. Whether it’s loaded or not, keep it pointed away from people and yourself.”
You mimic his grip, grimacing when you realize it's actually much heavier than you thought it would be. It was definitely going to take practice before you built up the ability to hold it for long periods. You follow his instructions and keep it pointed to the ground – albeit awkwardly.
“Here,” he suddenly steps behind you.
You feel your heart catch in your chest when you feel him press against your back. He’s incredibly warm and firm as you lean against him. He carefully takes your hands in his, supporting your hands and holding the gun eye level.
“Just practice lining up your sight and lookin at a target,” he says.
His face is so close to yours, his voice right in your ear, deep and gravelly with that heavy accent. You struggle to process his words, hoping to god he doesn’t hear how fast your heart has started racing.
You close one eye and focus on aiming at a photo on his wall, a small picture frame. His large, gloved hands dwarf your own and you’re suddenly overwhelmed by the scent of him. He smells like cigarettes and the body wash you may have taken a quick whiff of when you used his shower for the first time. You find yourself wondering when he has time to smoke since you’ve never actually seen him do it. 
Your mind is blank beyond anything other than him. How big and warm he is, how safe you feel with him wrapped around you, how good he smells and how much you love his voice as he utters tips and commands into your ear – sickly sweet in that way he always seems to talk to you. 
If you focused too much on it, you’d slowly come to the realization that you may have a crush on him. But you quickly dash that thought from your head and focus back on his gun lesson as he teaches you how to eject a magazine with ease. 
This is about survival. Neither of you have time to dwell on a silly crush. 
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A few days later, you’re standing in the eerie hallway with him. He had offered for you to just stay in the apartment and relax while he did the work but you honestly didn’t want to be alone so you opted to sit with him as he worked.
Your back was against the wall, sipping a cup of instant coffee you had made. Simon was silent as he worked on barricading the door to the stairwell. You both agreed that it was best if it was still accessible just in case something happened, but you didn’t want any unnecessary visitors making their way into the safe little haven you’ve both made for yourselves.
“We should think about looting the empty apartments,” you said suddenly, trying to keep your eyes off of his bulging biceps as he yanked on a strap that was attached to the doorknob to keep the door from being opened. 
“That’s a good idea,” he grunted, stepping back to admire his handiwork when he finally finished testing its durability, “Let’s do it.”
He offered his hand and you smiled, taking it and letting him pull you to your feet. You brushed off imaginary dust in an effort to hide how flustered just holding his hand for that brief second made you. 
You started at the other end of the hallway from your shared apartment. Simon displayed a disturbing aptitude for opening up very locked doors. You chose not to comment on it, instead silently being thankful that he was able to do it at all. 
“How about we make a loot pile in the hallway so we can bring it all inside when we’re ready?” you suggest.
“Alright,” he responds, eyes scanning over the cabinets in the kitchen, “Food is our main priority but it wouldn’t hurt to have some medical supplies.”
You agreed and started helping him pick things out, filling your arms full of canned goods and pill bottles which you then deposited in the hallway by your apartment. 
The two of you made it through a handful of apartments, securing a nice resource pile for the two of you. You were feeling good, hopeful, as you stared at your future right there in the silent hallway.
It wasn’t until you opened one in particular— it belonged to a shy, college kid, you remember— that it seems everything changes for you. He couldn’t have been but 18, away from home for the first time and living in his first apartment on his own. 
Simon is busy looting the kitchen, you can hear him placing cans on the counter, consolidating whatever it is he chooses to bring with him. You check the bedroom, looking through the drawers and pocketing a bottle of aspirin and nausea medication before you move to the bathroom. 
The second you push open the door, you’re met with the force of another person shoving into you. You cry out as you hit the ground, the person falling on top of you. You panic and scramble out from under them, their coughing and wheezing forcing you to look at them. 
It’s the kid who lives there. He’s deathly pale, dark circles under his eyes which are bloodshot. His lips are crusty and dry, seemingly struggling with finding something to say.
“Pl-” he starts to whisper before you see movement in the corner of your eye.
“Simon, wait!” you cry when you see the knife.
But it’s too late, the hunting knife you had held with your own two hands more times than you could count, is embedded in the kids skull, spraying blood all over you. All you can do is make a pathetic squeak, fear and panic rendering you unable to say anything as you watch his now lifeless body flop onto the ground beside you, his still warm blood soaking into your clothes as it runs out of the gaping hole in his head.
“The fuck were you thinkin’?!” Simon suddenly shouts, storming over to you and yanking you to your feet roughly.
You stumble up, bumping into him as you stare at the dead body on the floor, “He..He was alive…I…”
“He was sick!” Simon snarls, roughly wrapping his hand around your throat, forcing you to look at him. There was a fire in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before, making you cower, “You’re lucky he didn’t bite you! Fuckin’ hell, are you stupid?!”
“H-He was talking, he was just sick, Simon!” you argued, tears filling  your eyes as you stared up at him, “W-We could have given him medicine, could have–”
“He was a dead man walking,” he shouts, the volume making you flinch, “He was going to turn. Are you a fuckin’ idiot? Thinkin’ we could save him?”
The tears you were holding fell down your cheeks at his cruel words and you glared up at him, “I-I’m not stupid, I just…h-he talked to me!”
“It doesn’t matter,” Simon’s eyes narrow, “He was a threat. A liability. Don’t fuckin’ worry about him, worry about yourself.”
He releases you with a rough shove, taking out some of his anger on you. He continues to glare at you for a long minute before turning his back on you and stalking out of the room, muttering about how stupid it was that you could have killed yourself over some random kid. 
Your eyes fall on said kid, no more blood coming from the wound, simply coagulating on the floor around him, “Y-You’re a monster.”
The words come out of your mouth before you can stop them, quiet and shaky. But Simon hears them clear, freezing on the other side of the doorway, in the hall. 
“I’m a monster..?” he asks, voice suddenly eerily calm. He turns around, his large body taking up an obscene amount of the doorway. You can tell he’s intentionally trying to intimidate you, a punishment that makes your cheeks heat up in anger, “I’ve been breakin’ my back to keep your stupid ass alive and I’m a monster? Because I put down some fucker that was gonna turn rabid in a day?” he glares at you, squinting through the mask and drawing his dark eyebrows together, “You think it’s easy for me? I’m doin’ everything I can to keep you safe!” he shouts so loud that your ears ring and you flinch from the sound alone, “But if you can’t appreciate that then maybe you should be on your fuckin’ own and see how long it takes before you’re ripped apart by those feral bastards!”
He storms off at that, loudly slamming the front door, indicating his final exit from the apartment. You hastily wipe the tears from your cheeks only for more to replace them and you sniffle, casting a sorrowful glance at the dead kid before creeping out of the apartment yourself.
Simon is nowhere in the hall but the supplies you both gathered are still there. 
You carefully open the door to Simon’s apartment and peek inside, finding it completely silent and still. You’re not sure where he went but you decide to busy yourself with loading all your looted items into the kitchen and sorting them all for when he returns.
You’re not sure how long you take to finish but Simon still isn’t back and you become worried.
He had said you should be on your own but surely he didn’t actually just leave the building, did he?
You wander over to his supplies and find a handful of his weapons gone. Your heart shoots into your throat and more tears prick at your eyes before you’re dashing out of the apartment once again.
The door to the stairwell is no longer held shut, indicating that Simon had, in fact, gone that way. You curse yourself. If you had checked sooner then he would have at least been somewhere close but if he really left, he would be long out of the building by now. 
You creep towards the door and slowly push it open. You hadn’t even left the floor since before this whole thing started. It was eerily quiet, but if you listened close you could hear some muffled shuffling from somewhere. 
You crept out, quickly realizing how dark it was. You pulled out your keychain which held a tiny flashlight that you used to navigate when it was dark in the apartment. 
You crept down the stairs, holding your breath with every step until you finally reached the floor below you. You can hear muffled sounds from beyond the door and slowly push it open, flashing the light down the hallway. 
It's too small and weak to penetrate the stifling darkness. The power was not on on this floor for some reason and that immediately set you on edge. You could still hear some shuffling and strange, raspy noises from within the darkness. 
“Simon..?” you call into the impenetrable, oppressive darkness. The noises stop for a moment and you swallow around the nervous lump in your throat, “Simon?” you call again, louder.
The noises return, shuffling, heavy footsteps advance on you. You strain your eyes to see past the weak illumination that your flashlight provides. You’re breathing heavily, you realize, anxiety making your lungs feel constricted as the footsteps get closer and closer.
All of the sudden, a disgusting, rotted face appears in your sights, arms outstretched towards you. You scream out in unbridled terror as it grabs you, its bony, sickening fingers latching onto your shoulders. You attempt to push it away and run but you trip over your own two feet in your panic. Your flashlight flies out of sight, its dim illumination casting down the hallway, leaving you to push at the undead corpse as it collapses on top of you. Its weight is more than you thought it would be, leaving your arms trembling as you struggle to keep it from falling on top of you. It fights your resistance and chomps its disgusting teeth at your face, attempting to get a bite out of your flesh. 
It reeks, you realize, like the smell of a dead animal you pass by on the street. It makes your stomach turn and you fear you’re going to throw up from the smell alone. The rotting skin of its chest slips and pulls away from the bone and muscle and you gag, tears coming to your eyes as you realize the very real and terrifying danger you’re in.
You have no way to get out of this. 
As you look down the hall, where the light barely pierced the inky depths, you can see more figures emerging from further down the hall, shuffling and rasping in interest at your fight with the one on top of you.
Tears fall down your temples and a sob bursts from your chest as you slowly come to terms that this is how you’re going to die. You can’t hold the sheer weight of the undead above you for much longer.
“S-Simon…” you call out, weak and strained. You know even if he’s nearby he won’t hear you. You have to try harder, get your voice out, shout for him. You swallow around your tears and panic, taking a full breath before shouting, “Simon! Please! Simon, help me!”
You don’t even register the door opening behind you. But you do notice when the weight of the corpse is gone, a knife stabbing into its skull before a large hand grabs you by the back of the shirt and drags you back into the stairwell. The undead follow after you, slamming themselves against the door as soon as it slams closed. 
You’re trembling and unable to blink or breathe as the shock of what just happened washes over you. 
“What the fuck were you thinking?!” Simon all but screams, grabbing you by the front of your shirt, dragging you onto unsteady feet that can’t hold you up before slamming you against the wall. You can still hear those zombies slamming against the door. Your ears are ringing and you barely register Simon shouting at you. 
He shakes you and it finally draws your attention to him. His eyes are wide, irises darting back and forth over your face. He doesn’t look nearly as angry as you would expect. Instead he looks…concerned. Scared.
“Simon…” you whisper, the tears not stopping as they fall down your cheeks. He’s the only thing holding you up right now, hands balled in the material of your shirt, keeping you pinned to the wall, “I-I was…I was looking for you…”
He’s panting, shoulders rising and falling as he struggles to compose himself, “Lookin’ for me?”
“Y-You said you were leaving and I…” you whimper, “I-I didn’t want you to go so…I went to find you…I didn’t think that…”
You see his jaw tense through his mask before he slowly lets go of your shirt. Your knees tremble under your own weight and your hands find purchase against his chest.
“Fuckin’ hell…” he mutters, stepping away from you with a heavy sigh, “Just don’t…do that again, got it?”
You nod your head, sniffling as you feel your tears slowly come to a stop, “Th-Thank you, Simon…for saving me…”
“Yeah,” he grunts, turning his back to you, storming back up the stairs to your floor. 
You unsteadily follow behind him, still a shaky and anxious mess. When you get into the apartment, Simon is in the kitchen, barely sparing you a glance.
“Go take a shower,” he orders you.
You linger in the doorway for a moment, hoping that he’ll look at you even for a second. But he doesn’t and you hang your head, skulking off to take your shower with a heavy heart. 
The night rolls around and Simon hasn’t said a word, putting you more on edge with each passing minute. He sits, manspreading on the couch with a glass of Kentucky bourbon in a glass, sipping on it and watching some old movie that he put on play. Usually, he asks you if you’d like to watch with him, but this time he didn’t and that just makes your heart ache even more. 
“Simon…” you venture to ask, casting a glance at him. His hard gaze doesn’t move from the TV, “I-I want to apologize–”
“For what?” he asks, the first words he’s spoken to you in hours. They’re cold and make you wince.
“F-For what I said…” you mutter, tucking your legs underneath you as you turn to look at him, “I…I was mean. I know you’re doing all you can for me and it wasn’t fair of me to get angry at you…I was just…startled, I guess.”
“You were naive,” he snaps, finally looking at you with a harsh glare, “You had no fuckin’ idea what those monsters were and you almost got yourself killed because of it.”
“Y-You’re right…” you whisper, feeling the tears pricking your eyes for the millionth time that day, “I’m sorry, Simon.”
He doesn’t respond, simply throwing back his glass of bourbon, downing it all before he stands up, “Sleep on the couch.”
The last thing you hear from him is his bedroom door slamming shut. You lay down that night, quietly crying into the pillow until you finally fell back asleep.
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“Wake up!” a barking voice is what draws you out of your slumber. 
Still shaken up from yesterday’s previous events, you sit straight up, wild, fearful eyes looking around before your gaze falls upon Simon. He stands in front of the couch, dressed in full tactical gear. Even his balaclava is different, with a hard plate in the shape of a skull covering the front. He looks intimidating.
“Wh-What’re you doing?” you ask, turning yourself so your feet are on the floor. 
“We’re trainin’, get up,” he commands and you have no choice but to follow.
You find yourself following him out of the apartment and into the dimly lit hallway. It’s eerily quiet as always and you feel more intimidated than ever standing before him in nothing but some flimsy pajamas while he wears full gear. Even his gaze is different through that skull mask, hard and cold, looking down at you like you’re insignificant. 
It’s so different from before. He was so kind and patient with you before and you can tell that now he’s going to really train you. 
“What’re we doing today..?” you timidly ask, wringing your hands in front of yourself.
“Escaping,” he responds.
“Escaping?” you parrot back dumbly. 
His glare narrows down at you, “You’re going to try to get away from me and make it towards that exit.”
He points to the other end of the hallway, to the stairwell. You glance up at him, where he stands between you and your exit. 
“Okay…” you lick your lips nervously, “Do you want me to just run past you?”
“For now,” he drawls. He sounds almost bored, hands wrapped around the straps of his tactical vest.
You take a deep breath and attempt to bolt past him but his reflexes are frighteningly fast. His arm shoots out before you even realize it, catching you around your middle and halting you immediately. 
The air is punched out of your lungs from the force of his arms and you stumble back with a groan. 
“You’re goin’ to have to do better than that,” he says, looking down his nose at you like you had offended him with your poor attempt. 
You brace yourself again and attempt to run past him. This time, you attempt to fake him out and run in the other direction but it ends the same with his arm grappling around your middle and you still not any closer to the exit.
“Again!” he barks and you can’t help but wonder if this was how he was when he was training recruits in the military. 
You try again and again to run past him, duck under his arm, avoid his reach – everything to no avail. After several attempts, you’re left panting and frustrated. Simon is still as cool as a cucumber, staring at you in pure boredom as he awaits your next move. 
You run again, making rough contact with his arm once again. But this time you start fighting against his hold. You push with all your might, shoving at his arm and his side in an attempt to slip past him. 
“There you go,” he says, though it sounds more condescending than proud, “Fight me.”
You slam your fist down over his arm, successfully knocking it out of the way and giving you a chance to bolt past him. You have a clear view of the stairwell door and you can almost taste the success. 
But you’re stopped suddenly when a rough hand grabs the back of your shirt. You cry out in shock when he yanks you back towards him, carelessly tossing you to the floor. You hit the rough carpet harshly, the coarse material skinning your hands and knees and you cry out at the pain.
“Simon!” you chastise him, glaring up at him when he comes to stand in front of you, “That fucking hurt!”
“Oh, it hurt?” he sneers, squatting beside you, behemoth form still dwarfing your own as he gets down on your level, “It’s not supposed to feel good. This is training. You’re supposed to try and survive, not whine and cry because you fell on the floor.”
You sit on your burning knees and glare at him. He glares back at you, neither of you backing down. 
“Get up,” he commands, standing up, “Go again.”
By the time he allowed the training to be called off, your body was sore and bruised from the amount of times you’d been thrown to the floor. Your knees burn and ache from where the skin had been rubbed off and you fight back tears as you watch the dried blood crust on your skin. 
Simon is no more rough for wear than he was before – all your hitting, kicking, pushing, and biting hadn’t deterred him in the slightest. He wasn’t even winded. 
Worse more, you hadn’t made it anywhere near the door. 
You weren’t sure how Simon felt about it. If he was mad or disappointed, he didn’t say. As soon as you got into the apartment, he went about making dinner after ordering you to wash up. 
When you got out of the shower, he tossed a first aid kit to you and silently sat down in the kitchen to eat. 
Usually, you would sit with him but you found yourself deciding to eat on the couch by yourself. A sense of loneliness settled upon you that you hadn’t felt since before you had moved into this apartment with him and you find yourself hiding your tears in your food. 
Once again, you’re sleeping on the couch. You wouldn’t have minded it if it didn’t feel so much like a punishment. You felt like a dog banished to sleep in the dog house and you can’t help but curl in on yourself at the cold, empty feeling that it causes. 
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The next morning follows much the same with Simon startling you awake with a barked order. Your body aches and your wounds sting with every movement you make as you drag yourself behind him to the hallway.
“Do we have to do this again today, Simon?” you ask hopelessly, “I’m really tired…”
“Do you think those undead freaks are going to care if you’re tired?” he snaps at you, arms crossed, making him appear even bigger than he already was, “You’re goin’ to learn how to escape from holds.”
“Simon…” you start to complain but a sharp look from him has the words dying on your tongue and you hand your head in defeat. 
He’s no more gentle than he was yesterday with you, rough grips and manhandling you around to fit his needs. He barks in your ear, ordering what you need to do and when to break various holds that he has on your body. 
He feels so much stronger and more powerful than those zombies had. At least they were mindless and slow. Simon was fast and smart. 
“Put your hand under mine to break the hold!” he shouts, clearly frustrated the more you fuck up breaking his holds. 
“Not like that! Are you daft?” he grits through clenched teeth, “You’re goin’ to fuckin wind up dead if you keep this up!”
You feel your heart rate speed up and you find yourself almost panicking under his completely oppressive energy. His shouting only sets you more on edge and the tears begin to prick at your eyes once again. 
“None of those fuckin’ tears,” he snarls, tightening his hold on you when you squirm and attempt to rid his body weight off of yours, “Do what I told you! You can break the hold if you just fuckin’ focus!”
“Simon, I-I don’t want to do this anymore!” you cry, the tears tumbling down your cheeks as you cry out the words. Your cheeks feel hot and you can barely catch your breath as you weakly punch at his chest.
“There’s no tappin’ out,” he snaps, tightening his grip on you even more. Your body aches where he holds and you know you’re going to be feeling those bruises for days to come. 
“Simon!” you practically screech, freeing one hand and harshly slamming your fist down over the hard faceplate. 
It seems to startle him enough into loosening his hold and you manage to kick back away from him in your panic, foot hitting him square in the chest in an effort to propel yourself away – putting as much distance as fast as you can between the two of you.
“Simon…” you whimper, voice wobbling, “I am not one of your soldiers. You need to stop trying to train me like I am!”
You watch him adjust his jaw through his mask before he pops his neck. He doesn’t say anything, just stares at you and every hair on your body stands up in pure fear. 
He’s on top of you before you even have the chance to say another word. You cry out when the force of his body forces you back and your head cracks harshly against the floor. Your vision blacks out from the force and you groan in pain but he doesn’t stop, a rough forearm pinning against your throat, cutting off your air.
“That was good,” he says, voice cold and devoid of any emotion, “You managed to escape, now do it again!”
Your hands push weakly against him, but you’re worn out and your head is starting to hurt like hell. You open your mouth to say something but his hold on your throat ceases any words from escaping. 
You reach up to his face and his cold gaze narrows at you, “You already tried that. It won’t work again.”
But instead of hitting him, your fingers wrap around the face plate and you attempt to push it off – hoping that it’ll obscure his vision enough but he shakes you off with ease. 
He catches your gaze and what he sees gives him pause. Wide, teary eyes, red rimmed and filled to the brim with fear. Tears wet your cheeks and he finally notices the way your entire body is tense and trembling beneath him. 
“P-Please,” you finally find your voice when his weight eases a bit off of your throat, “I-I don’t want to do this anymore, Simon, please.”
That has his own eyes widening and you take his slackened hold as an opportunity to run away. He watches you scramble up from your spot on the floor and stumble back to the apartment, disappearing within with a slam that makes him flinch. He looks down at his own hands and finds that he can’t conjure up any thoughts that aren’t about you.
You hear him enter the apartment, his heavy footfalls pacing around the living room. You’re hiding in the bathroom, leaning against the door with your knees against your chest to muffle your cries. 
He enters the bedroom and pauses, no doubt looking for you before he approaches the bathroom and you feel a brief ping of fear that he’s going to open the door but instead he softly knocks. 
“Will you come out so we can talk?” he asks, voice holding none of the cold, harshness that it had for the last few days. 
“G-Go away, Simon,” you sniffle.
You can hear him sigh before he follows your request and steps away from the door. You can hear him linger in the bedroom for several more minutes, kicking his boots off before he’s quietly closing the bedroom door and leaving. 
The silence and loneliness sinks in once more and you find yourself sobbing into your knees all over again. Your head kills and you feel almost nauseous through your cries from the headache but you can’t stop yourself. 
You have no idea how long you cry for but before you know it, the bedroom door opens once again and you can hear the floorboards creak under his weight as he approaches the bathroom door once again.
“I made something for you to eat,” he says through the door, “Figured you might be hungry.” At the idea of food, your stomach growls, “It’ll be waiting for you at the table when you want it.”
You listen to him walk away and you know this is his way of luring you out of the bathroom. Part of you desperately wants to spite him for being so mean to you and refuse his food but the growling in your stomach is too much to bear and you can’t help but clamber to your feet and quietly pull the door open. 
When you reach the living room, Simon is facing the TV, giving no indication that he realizes you’ve come out of your hiding place. You sneak into the kitchen to see a bowl of soup sitting nicely at an empty spot. You take a seat and quickly devour the entire bowl, barely taking a break to breathe before it’s completely empty. 
You place it in the sink and carefully sneak back out of the kitchen, intending to slide right past him but in your haste you fail to notice that he’s no longer sitting on the couch. Instead, you come face to face with him sitting at the foot of his bed, clearly waiting for you. 
You freeze when you see him and all too soon that headache comes racing back to the forefront of your mind. 
Simon’s no longer wearing the skull plate and instead wears his usual black balaclava with the skull print on it. He wears a t-shirt and sweatpants, obviously having let himself get comfortable while you hid in the bathroom earlier. 
He looks up at you the second you step into the room and the two of you halt in a stalemate, simply staring at one another while you wait for the other to make the first move. 
You’re the first to break eye contact when a heavy throb goes through your head, making you close your eyes and bring your hand to your head until it passes. You hear the bed creak when Simon stands up before his hands are cupping your cheeks.
“You hit your head, didn’t you?” he asks, soft and gentle. 
You can’t stop yourself from glaring and snapping, “No thanks to you.”
His gaze softens as his hand finds its way to the back of your head, ever so softly prodding at the sizable bump that’s there, “I’m sorry, love.”
“If you’re sorry then why did you do it?” you find those damned tears returning all over again as you continue to glare up at him, “I told you I didn’t like it and I wanted to stop.”
“I know…” he whispers, hands once again cupping your cheeks, thumbing your tears away.
“What was your problem, Simon?” you tearfully ask, sniffling pathetically, “You hurt me. You were scary – scarier than those stupid zombies downstairs. Why did you do that?”
“I got…I was…” he struggled to find the right words before he stepped away from you with a troubled expression, “I was angry— scared. I just—I don’t know.”
“You were scared?” you scoff, “I’m the one who got attacked.”
“You think that wasn’t scary for me?” he asks in disbelief, “You almost got eaten alive on my watch.”
“You sure have a funny way of showing it,” you sniffle, angrily storming over to the bed, letting yourself flop down on the comfortable mattress for the first time in days.
“I know,” he whispers, “Just let me explain, okay?”
You lay there silently, listening to his weight shift where he stands. You take notice of how his scent lingers much more on the blankets now that he’s slept on it. It smells good, you note, musky and delicate. He doesn’t wear anything that smells particularly overpowering. 
“I’m sorry,” he says again, “Ever since this shit happened, I’ve been driving myself crazy. I lost contact with my team, my friends. I’m not able to get anymore information on what's goin’ on outside. I’m worried about you, I’m trying my hardest to make sure you can go out there and survive on your own if you need to. I feel like I’m going crazy and I’m scared because I’ve never felt this out of control before.”
You sit up and turn to face him, “How long have you been feeling like this, Simon..?”
“A while,” he mutters, turning his back on you when your gaze starts to feel like too much, “And then you called me a monster and I just…” he trails off, seemingly unsure of how to explain his feelings properly.
“I’m sorry for that, Simon,” you mutter sincerely, reaching out to grab his arm, urging him to turn around, “I never should have said that. And I didn’t mean it, really.”
“Well, you were right, weren’t you?” he scoffs, “I am a monster. Fuck, look at what I did to you – how I treated you. I was punishing you and I never should have.”
“We both made mistakes,” you compromise with a wobbly smile, “We’re dealing with a lot, right? The fucking world is ending and we’ve been trapped in this godforsaken building for who knows how long. It’ll get easier.”
He stares at you for a long moment, lashes fluttering as his gaze softens. You can’t find it in yourself to break eye contact. After a long moment, he seems to decide on something before reaching up and yanking the mask covering his face off. 
You feel your breath halt in your chest as your eyes widen, taking in every inch of his newly revealed face. His soft, brown eyes are a juxtaposition to the rest of his ruggedly handsome face. You stand up, never letting your eyes stray from him, a feeling of pure awe coming over you.
“You’re so handsome, Si,” you whisper, reaching forward to brush your fingers over a scar that cuts through his eyebrow to his eyelid, “It’s nice to finally see you.”
“I wanted you to see the real me,” he whispers, “Not the asshole soldier I was.”
“I’m glad you’ve trusted me with this,” you let your fingers wander along his skin, feeling the stubble on his jaw that he hadn’t yet shaved. 
“I need to tell you,” he sounds breathy, reaching up and catching your hand in his, pressing your palm flat against his cheek, “I was so scared when I heard you callin’ for me. I thought I was goin’ to be too late and I’d watch you die. I was terrified that I would lose you.”
“Simon…” you whisper in awe, watching how his soft, brown eyes display every tumultuous emotion that he experiences, “I’m sorry. I won’t do anything to worry you again.”
“I want you by my side for as long as you’re able,” he whispers, throat moving as he swallows.
“I won’t go anywhere,” you agree, stepping closer to him, “I promise.”
He leans in at the same time as you, meeting you for a sweet, tender kiss. It lasts only a second before you’re both pulling back to look in each other's eyes. Then, you’re both surging forward for a hungry, heated kiss. 
His hands grip your waist, squeezing there as he deepens the kiss. You whimper under his touch, standing on your tip-toes to match the intensity of his kiss. 
He moves you backwards, your knees hitting the edge of the bed, causing you to topple down. Simon follows, catching himself on his hands on either side of your head. He only breaks the kiss for a moment to move you further up the bed, easily manhandling you so your head is in the pillows before he’s kissing you all over again.
His hands are rough as they travel over your body, slipping your shirt up just enough to let him touch your bare sides. You quickly realize you’re still wearing your sleep clothes and that you don’t have a bra on. 
Clearly, Simon was aware because his hand quickly cups your bare breast with a rough, callused hand. His thumb finds your nipple, flicking over the bud as you whine into his mouth. 
He pulls back suddenly, cheeks flushed before he’s fumbling with the hem of your shirt.
“Arms up, sweetheart,” he coos, sickly sweet. 
You follow his orders and eagerly lift your arms up for him to tug the fabric of your shirt over your head. Once your breasts are bared to him, he’s leaning down to wrap his lips around one perked nipple while his fingers busy themselves with the other.
You cry out at the feeling of his teeth nipping at the sensitive bud, hands tangling in his soft, curly hair. He groans against your breast at the feeling of your pulling at his hair before he pulls back just a bit, breathlessly whispering, “Such perfect tits.”
“Simon…” you whimper, letting yourself relax into the bed as he switches to mouth at your other nipple, leaving the other to harden in the cool air before his hand travels down your stomach to your shorts, easily slipping underneath the fabric.
“Simon!” you call out again when you feel the heat of his hand cup your folds through your panties. 
“Shh, just let me do the work, love,” he mumbled, muffled by the fact he refuses to part from suckling on your nipple. 
His tongue drags over your breast, nipping and sucking marks into your skin. As he works the muscle, his hand in your panties remains stationary, just letting you feel the heat of it against your core. The teasing presence only makes you pulse and drool into your panties. You’re positive the fabric must be sticking to you by now from how wet you’ve become from playing with your breasts. 
“Your tits are so sensitive,” he mumbles, almost to himself, “Does it feel good, darlin’?”
“Yeah,” you breathe, arching your back to offer up your chest to him all over again.
He grins, a crooked little smile that makes your heart flutter. It was so nice to finally see him smile. 
But instead of mouthing at your breasts again, he leans back on his heels and pulls his hand from your panties. You whine at the loss but it’s cut short when he hooks his fingers into them and tugs them down your legs. You lift your hips to assist him but find yourself wincing when an ache goes through your body.
He notices and gently runs the palm of his hands up your thighs, urging you to relax.
“You sore, love?” he asks, voice filled with what you can only call guilt.
“A little…” you admit, biting your lip, “My thighs are killing me, actually.”
He shakes his head at himself and leans down, pressing a kiss next to the scrape on one of your knees as his hands slowly begin to knead the sore muscles in your thighs. You sigh and let your eyes flutter at the feeling. 
With your eyes closed, you don’t realize he leans down until you feel a hot, wet tongue slide from your pubic bone to your sternum. Your cunt clenches pathetically at the feeling. When you open your eyes, Simon’s pretty, brown eyes are half-lidded and his tongue hangs out of his mouth. You can’t resist cupping the back of his head and pulling him for a kiss, whimpering and moaning against his mouth.
“Fingers or tongue?” he asks, muffled and messy against your lips. 
“What?” your hazy mind can’t quite comprehend what he’s asking of you.
“Do you want my fingers or my tongue?” he reiterates, “I want to make you cum.”
You whimper at that, “B-Both!”
He scoffs, full brows furrowing, “Greedy.”
You find yourself blushing at that but he doesn’t deny your request. He sinks down your body, peppering kisses down your body on the way until he kneels on the floor at the foot of the bed. 
He grabs your hips and effortlessly yanks you down so your legs hang off the edge of the bed. 
He spreads your thighs apart and you find yourself holding your breath, watching through your lashes as he trails kisses up your thigh, getting closer to where you want him the most. You’re trembling under his attention and it makes you clench pathetically around absolutely nothing. You’re sure he can see the way your cunt drools and leaks with every small kiss he peppers against your skin. 
Just when he gets close, he pulls back and kisses back down towards your knee. The teasing has you wound taut, feeling as if you’re almost on the edge without him ever properly touching you.
It feels like hours that he does it, kissing up and down your thighs. Occasionally, he nips at the skin there, swirling his tongue over the burning marks he leaves behind to soothe the sting. Finally, he moves his hand and you think he’s going to finally give you something but all he does is spread your folds apart with two fingers, exposing your hole and clit to the cool bedroom air. The action makes you whine but he pays you no mind. 
He carries on kissing your thighs and nipping at your skin. No matter how much you rut your hips, hoping to entice him into touching you and giving you what you really need, he ignores it. He ignores your whines and the cries of his name, ignores the way your cunt clenches and drools around nothing, clit twitching from how much teasing you’re enduring. 
The little bud aches, throbbing as it begs for anything – any little touch that he has to offer. He could blow air upon the nub right now and you’re sure you would explode in pure pleasure. 
When you sob his name, broken and needier than you’ve ever heard yourself, he finally looks up. His eyelids are heavy, concealing half of his iris and it makes him look positively fucked out. 
“Look at me,” he commands, licking his lips slowly, “Right in the eyes, let me see you properly.”
You force yourself to meet his penetrating gaze, almost struggling to compose yourself. You find yourself trapped in the eye contact, almost paralyzed under his intoxicating gaze. He holds you there for what feels like minutes but in reality is probably just a few seconds. 
His fingers finally hone in on your clit, pressing against the twitching, hardened bud. You cum immediately, still locked in that intoxicating eye contact. You cry out, hands slapping against the bed as he draws the orgasm out of you with slow circles on the little bud, sticky clicking sounds filling the room and mixing with your wild cries of pleasure. It seems like the high never stops, more and more cum gushing from your cunt and dripping down to stain the comforter beneath you. 
Simon watches you with keen attention, taking in every expression you make as he makes you cum against his fingers, the bud throbbing wildly until the orgasm finally dissipates. 
When you finally sag against the bed, your thighs fall completely open as the post-orgasm exhaustion quickly hits. You’re left trembling and twitching through the aftershocks, pretty pussy still drooling with every clench of your walls.
Simon takes the opportunity of you coming down to strip himself. He tugs his shirt off over his head and lets his sweatpants drop the floor, carelessly kicking them away. His gaze never leaves you, never leaves that twitching little cunt between your legs.
There’s a slick film of your cum coating your folds and his mouth fucking waters. 
Your eyes fly open, not even realizing that you had closed them, when he suddenly cups the back of your thighs and pins you wide open for him.
“Simon…” you pathetically coo, reaching down to tangle your fingers in his hair when he comes within reach.
“So sweet for me,” he coos, kissing your thigh once again and you’re scared that he’s going to tease you all over again, “A good orgasm got you nice and sweet, huh?”
“Mhm,” you mutter, dazedly looking at him as you feel his breath on your sensitive cunt. 
That alone makes you clench around nothing. You nearly whimper out loud when you see his tongue fall from his mouth, glistening with spit before he licks a slow, wide stripe between your folds. 
When he comes back up, he holds his tongue out and lets you see the creamy mess of your cum left behind. He makes a show of swallowing every drop in his mouth, making your cheeks flush in pure embarrassment at such a lewd display. 
You had no idea Simon would be so fucking filthy in bed but the way his eyes roll back at your taste tells you all that you need to know. 
He loudly slurps your clit between his lips, swirling his tongue around the sloppy bud as he whines and groans into your cunt. You tug harshly at his hair at the overwhelming feeling of having your clit doted on so expertly. 
His hands keep you pinned open, allowing him to slip his tongue inside you, occasionally taking a moment to visibly swallow every drop of your slick so you can see the way he absolutely savors your taste.
He swirls that offending tongue around your clit again, slurping it back into his mouth before two fingers are prodding at your entrance. You clench against him, the excitement of finally being filled with something making you whimper. Just the sound of you so eager makes him almost want to cum completely untouched. 
Your cum generously coats his face and he absolutely loves it. He pulls away suddenly, dark eyes locking onto your face as he pants from how lost he was in eating you out. He slowly presses two fingers inside you, letting them slide in, hugged by the plushness of your walls.
“You’re so fuckin’ wet, love,” he coos, moaning sympathetically when you cry out from the feeling of being stretched on his fingers, “And so warm too, fuck.”
He decides, in that moment, that he doesn’t care if the world is ending outside, he feels nothing but bliss with you. He never wants this to end, he wants to get completely lost in the pure intoxication of you. 
He leans down, flattening his tongue against your clit once again. The feeling is heightened now that he’s got his thick fingers stuffed inside you. You clench around him at the feeling of his tongue on the sensitive bud once more. 
He suddenly crooks his fingers and your legs helplessly kick in the air at the overwhelming feeling of him pressing and prodding against that gooey little spot inside you. Your hips rabbit up and you practically wail at the overwhelming sensations he’s attacking you with. You squeal his name so sweetly before he finally backs off a bit, letting you sink back into the soft cushions of the bed.
He’s completely drunk off of you, off the creamy cum you gush out for him to lick up, off the lovely sounds you let out from how good he makes you feel. His cock is so painfully hard and he wants so badly to wrap his hand around himself but he knows he’ll blow his load the second he does, so he refrains. 
To distract himself from the ache in his cock, he doubles his focus on you and making you feel good. His fingers crook upwards again, prodding your g-spot again with renewed vigor. You cry out, your eyes rolling to the back of your head when he sucks your clit into his mouth, the suction making your thighs tremble. 
“I-I wanna cum!” you cry out, fingers still tugging harshly at his hair. 
He groans against you but doesn’t dare to part from you, too focused on bringing you to your high to actually goad you into it. His fingers move inside you, fucking you nice and deep, making sure he’s working that sweet little spot inside you as he continues to suck on your clit. 
It doesn’t take long before your entire body stiffens and you toss your head back. The choked out cry is music to his ears and his own eyes roll back when he feels the way your walls tighten around him, soaking his fingers generously. Your clit throbs in his mouth before he releases his suction on it, instead choosing to lick the pulsing little bud with the flat of his tongue to gently ease you through the high. 
You’re pushing his head away long before he’s ready to part but he willingly backs off nonetheless. His chin is wet with your cum, even dripping down his neck and the sight makes you flush. There’s a loud, squishy noise when he slowly pulls his fingers from the hot clutch of your cunt. 
“Scoot back for me, darlin’,” he commands you, slurring a little before he pops his fingers into his mouth, sucking them clean of the mess you left behind. 
You do as he says, shakily pushing yourself back so you can lay your head in the pillows. With Simon standing at the foot of the bed, you finally get the chance to take a look at him. 
He’s obviously incredibly well built, broad and firm in all the right places. Most notably, he has numerous scars, some that looked like bullet wounds and others that were long and thin. 
“Are all those from the military?” you find yourself asking as he carefully crawls onto the bed, jostling you as the mattress moves under his weight.
“Yeah,” he breathes, leaning down to press his lips against yours.
You let him handle your body as he pleases, spreading your legs so he can comfortably situate himself between them. His cock, hard and heavy, rests against your folds and you find your eyes going wide at the sight of it.
“Somethin’ the matter?” he chuckles, like he can hear what you’re thinking. 
“That’s not going to fit,” you breathe, unable to tear your gaze off the twitching, fat length of him.
“‘Course it will, love,” he breathes, pecking your lips again, letting his lips trail down over your jaw, “I worked you open real good, all you gotta do is relax and let me in.”
With a minute adjustment of his hips, the tip prods your entrance. He grips the base of his length, carefully pushing forward, mouth dropping open as he feels your hot, wet walls spread around the head of him.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” he grunts, “Jus’ let me do the work.”
Your hands fly down to grip his forearms, nails biting harder into the skin there the deeper he sinks into you. The middle of his cock is the fattest, giving you an almost painful stretch that makes your face pinch up in a way that Simon doesn’t like.
He brings one hand to his mouth, licking his thumb before carefully pressing the digit against that sensitive bud. You whimper at the feeling, cunt clutching tight around him, easing more of his length inside. He circles your clit a few more times, watching your face for any clear signs of discomfort. Before long, his hips meet yours, filling you absolutely full to the brim in a way no one ever had before. 
He plants both hands on either side of your head, abandoning your clit in favor of simply rutting his hips against yours. His large body hovers over you, shielding you from anything outside of him and you find yourself completely lost in everything that is him – how full he makes you feel, how nice he smells, how safe you feel trapped beneath him like you are. 
Your hands wind around his neck, pulling him down so his chest presses against yours. Your breasts squish against his chest and he finds his eyes flickering down just to look at them. The sight makes you smile despite yourself – it’s cute, you think.
Tangling your fingers in his soft curls once again, you bring him down for a kiss. He’s still slowly, carefully rutting his hips against yours, his lower abdomen sliding against your clit as his cock stirs inside you, stretching you and hitting every sweet little spot inside you. 
You whimper into his mouth, gasping at the way he makes you feel so full and good while he barely does anything. Your knees bracket against his ribs, squeezing him so tightly you wonder if it hurts but he just continues to kiss you and circle his hips. 
“Wanna feel you cum around me,” he whispers, barely parting from your lips to request it, “Just like this, cover my cock. Be good for me.”
You knew you wouldn’t be able to disobey even if you wanted to. With the way he stirs you up and drags against every tender spot inside you all while grinding against your clit the way he is, you don’t stand a chance. Your third orgasm creeps up on you and your back arches just as it washes over you.
Simon groans at the feeling of you cumming around him for the first time – the tight, wet clutch of your cunt feeling better than he ever could have dreamed. As he watches you writhe in his bed, moaning and whimpering his name, he’s overcome with a plethora of feelings that just melt his heart. 
He can’t resist pulling you in for another kiss, cupping your jaw as he pulls his hips back until just the head of his cock remains buried in your cunt. You’re still working on coming down from the orgasm he just gave you but he’s greedy – he wants to feel it again. He wants to fuck the orgasm out of you, make you ride it out and gush all over him.
He needs to show you how good he can be for you, hoping that this alone can get across just how much you mean to him. He’s never been the best with words, so he can only hope that this is enough for now.
Your hands press against his chest, aimlessly pushing at him from the overwhelming way he fucks you. You’re so sensitive, pushed into cumming more times than anyone had ever made you before. But he doesn’t show any signs of slowing or stopping. He’s a machine, built for stamina and he’s on a fucking mission now – to make you feel as good as he possibly can. 
You’re attempting to push him away, to give your poor, overstimulated body a chance to come down. But he’s having none of it. 
“Hands off, love,” he commands breathlessly. But you just stare up at him with dazed, teary eyes, panting and sweaty. He clicks his tongue, “You ignorin’ me, sweetheart?”
He grapples your wrists in his one hand, pulling yours away from his chest and pinning them above your head. He uses this new hold as leverage to really fuck you, pulling back and sinking back in as deep as he possibly can. His tip kisses your cervix, making your thighs tense up at the twinge of pain that comes with having him so deep. 
But the pain mixes so addictively with the pleasure that you find yourself getting completely lost in the slow, deep rhythm that he sets. Every time he sinks balls deep, his hips slap against yours and he rubs up deliciously against your clit. The pleasure on your bud doesn’t last long before he’s pulling back again, never allowing you to fully build up to another delicious high. 
Simon is lost in the way you whimper and whine. He can swear that he’s never heard anything as incredible as you being denied the pleasure he had been so generous with so far. He likes the desperate look in your eyes; it makes him feel amazing to know that you need him to make you feel good. He’s in charge of your pleasure in that moment and he finds himself relishing in that feeling of control over you. 
You look so sweet beneath him, pinned and helpless with teary eyes looking up at him. Your pupils are blown wide from the pleasure his cock brings you as he continues to fuck you nice and deep. 
Usually, Simon is a fast and rough kind of guy, but he finds himself thinking that he could definitely get used to a pace like this more often. As long as it’s you that’s underneath him. 
It doesn’t take you very long to break, those pretty tears falling down your cheeks as you breathlessly plead with him, “Please, Simon,” your voice cracks so cutely, “I want more!”
He chuckles under his breath and leans down, pressing a tender kiss against your temple before whispering, “What’s stoppin’ you from takin’ more?”
That seems to set you off. You’re bracing your feet on the bed, rutting your hips, rocking yourself against his cock. A moan rips from his chest at the sight of you using his cock like that. His heavy balls press against you and the feeling makes his cock throb, making him realize how badly he needs to cum. But he doesn’t want to give up this little show you’re putting on for him so soon. 
You’re so, so wet that he can feel how your messy little cunt squishes around him. You shamelessly soak every inch of him the more you work your own pussy on his fat cock. You tug your hands free from his grip and he’s left clenching the pillows in his fist when he watches your fingers descend.
He thinks you’re going to go for your clit, to push yourself over the edge like you so deserved for being so good for him. But instead, you reach for your own tits. The breath punches out of his lungs as the sight of you meanly pinching and tweaking your nipples as you continue to rock yourself against him.
Simon feels his balls tighten at the sight and he almost thinks he’s going to cum but he suddenly pulls his cock out. You wail in complete misery at the loss, tearfully watching him wrap his hand around the base of his cock, pinching off the impending orgasm.
You flop back down onto the bed, sniffling pathetically as you glare at him for ruining the orgasm you were so beautifully working yourself up to. He smiles crookedly at you, cupping the backs of your knees, crudely pinning them to your chest so your pretty, wet cunt is open and vulnerable to the way he suddenly stuffs himself back inside. 
With you completely pinned beneath him in a press, you can’t do anything except cry out and wail in pleasure as he finally fucks you fast and hard. His balls slap lewdly against your ass, your arousal dripping off of them. 
His eyes are locked on the way you’re stretched so wide around the girth of him. You’re creaming around him, a milky ring left in your wake every time he pulls out. He doesn’t give you much chance to breathe or collect yours, simply fucking you with everything he has. It’s loud, wet, and fucking messy. 
“F-Fuck,” he chokes on the word, voice breaking as it comes out. He’s so close that it hurts, “Play with yourself for me, love, rub your clit.”
Your hand flies down to do as you’re told without a second thought. It only takes a few, quick circles around the hard little bud before you’re cumming with a cute little squeal. Your feet kick helplessly in the air, toes curling from how hard you cum around him. 
Simon groans at the sight and feeling of you losing yourself on his cock. You continue to swirl and tap at your clit, forcing yourself to cum harder and harder until you’re squirting around him with a choked off sob of his name. 
Simon’s hips never still or falter, fucking you fast and deep to work you through the orgasm. Your cum splatters across his hips, thighs, and chest. It makes his eyes roll up into his head before he lets his head fall back. His jaw opens and he moans, loud and deep as his own orgasm finally washes over him. 
His pace falters as you lay there twitching and crying, a few trembling thrusts of his hips as his cock spits rope after rope of cum inside you. He cums longer and harder than he has in a very long time. He continues with short, aborted little thrusts on his sensitive cock as he continues to cum.
Even when the orgasm dissipates, he finds himself fucking into the creamy mess drooling out of your twitching cunt. 
“S-Simon-!” you choke out, nails clawing down his shoulders, “S-Sensitive!”
“I know, love,” he pants, almost deliriously, “J-Just one more. G-Gotta fill you up again.”
You can’t do anything but lay back and let him use your cunt as he works to force another orgasm out of his overstimulated cock. He’s gasping and whining as he moves his hips, pulling his cock out only to stuff it back inside. A mixture of your cum and his drips down, soaking his cock, pelvis, and balls. It’s a heady, lewd mess that he can’t bring himself to worry about now but he knows it’ll be a pain to clean up later. 
You’re trembling and twitching with every one of his movements, tears dried and new on your cheeks. He feels a pang of remorse for you, you’re tired and overstimulated but he just needs to wring this one last orgasm out and then he’ll let you rest.
“You can be good for me, huh?” he coos sweetly, “Just be sweet and let me, fuck, use this pretty little cunt, yeah?”
“Y-Yeah,” you whimper, nodding your head as your eyelids flutter in exhaustion.
Simon leans down, pressing his lips against yours. You both get lost in the kiss, with your arms wrapped around his neck. He loves how it feels to have you stuffed on his cock while your pretty, sweet body twitches and trembles beneath him. He knows it probably hurts by now and the fact you’re just laying there and letting him use you like this has him reaching his second high. 
He chokes on a moan, gasping as he cums for the final time. It’s much more lackluster than his first one but he still fills you up just like you both needed. His cock twitches almost painfully inside you as he slowly rocks his hips, wincing at the overstimulation. 
After a few, still moments, he pulls his length free from the soft plushness of your cunt and rolls off of you. You’re both panting, laying on your backs on the bed as you come back to yourselves.
You’re the first one to move, rolling onto your side and wrapping yourself around him. Simon finds himself smiling when he feels the sweet way you snuggle against him, seeking his comfort automatically. 
You start shivering, the mess of cum and sweat on your body causing you to become cold. He urges you to sit up despite your protests. 
“Let’s take a shower and sleep,” he offers sweetly, supporting your shaky body to the bathroom.
He continues to support you and hold you close through the shower. He finds himself grateful that there’s still hot water because you both certainly need it after such a messy tryst in his bed. 
You’re the first to fall asleep, tucked against his chest with your arms wrapped around him like a little koala. His hand strokes up and down your back, just staring into the inky blackness of his bedroom. 
Part of him feels like it’s all a dream, to have someone so sweet tucked against him, offering him comfort and feeling safe as they snooze peacefully. A sense of fierce protectiveness washes over him as he finds himself going through plans in his head – what the future may hold.
He’s torn from his thoughts when you shoot up from your deep sleep with a gasp. Your head wildly turns, looking around the room. His hand finds purchase on your back, making you jump before relaxing immediately in recognition.
“Bad dream?” he asks, tugging you gently to lay you back down against his chest.
“Yeah,” you whisper, “I dreamt that I was trapped with them in that hallway again.”
He hums, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, wrapping his arms tightly around you to make sure you feel secure. You go still for a long time and he thinks you fell asleep again but then you ask him a question that surprises him.
“Who are those people in the photos?” you quietly question, “In your living room.”
He hums, rubbing a rough hand up and down your shoulder and arm, “My teammates. Friends, I guess.”
“You guess?” you chuckle.
“Yeah,” he breathes, “Task Force 141; Captain John Price, and Seargets John ‘Soap’ MacTavish and Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick.”
“Soap is a silly name,” you comment, grinning up at him, resting your chin against his chest, “What about you?”
“Lieutenant Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley,” he responds with ease. 
“Do you know where they are?” you ask.
It’s an innocent question but it sends a pang of hurt to his chest. If he were a weaker, less trained man, he may have felt tears pricking his eyes, “I don’t know,” he pauses for a moment before continuing, “I was in contact with Soap when everything started goin’ to shit. Lost contact with him though. He’s a tough bastard though, I’m sure he’s fine somewhere out there. I don’t know where the other two were or are.”
“If they’re even half as good as you, I’m sure they’re all fine,” you offer optimistically. 
Simon hums again, reaching a hand up to brush a stray flyaway off of your forehead. His big hand cups your cheek, stroking his thumb over your lips which you offer a gentle kiss against. 
“All I’m worried about now is you,” he confesses softly, “As long as you’re safe, I’ll be happy. I’ll do anything to make sure you’re okay.”
“I am,” you smile, laying back down to nuzzle against his chest, “I’m okay as long as you’re here.”
He wraps his arms around you again and closes his eyes, letting himself sleep peacefully with you held safe against him.
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It’s not even a week later that you’re sitting on the couch with him, peacefully watching a movie with a full belly after cooking a quick dinner with him, that you hear a loud, mechanical thump and you’re plunged into complete silence and darkness. Your heart jumps and races in your chest, mindlessly grappling onto Simon’s arm as he sits still beside you.
“What happened?” you ask, whispering as if you’re scared to speak any louder.
“Power went out,” he responds, not sounding the least bit perturbed, “Knew it was comin’. Water’s probably out now too.”
“What do we do?” you ask, the tremor of fear in your voice practically breaking his heart. 
He stands up and you whimper in fear when he’s out of your reach. You can hear him moving around in the dark before a bright, blinding light lands on you. 
“We can’t stay here for much longer,” he responds, “We’ll have to move out and find somewhere with more resources.”
“How long have you been planning this?” you ask, getting to your feet to follow him down the hall to the bedroom.
“Ever since the news stopped reportin’,” he responds, grabbing a large backpack from the closet, “Let’s pack up.”
You linger beside him and he looks at you with a raised brow, “I’m scared, Simon.”
His gaze softens and he walks up to you, cupping your cheeks tenderly, “I won’t let anything happen to you,” he promises, “We’re goin’ to go out, find a small place to hunker down. We’ll look for a generator or a vehicle and get somewhere safe. You trust me, don’t you?”
You nod your head, “Of course I do.”
“Good,” he smiles, kissing your forehead, “Now take this backpack and fill it with what’s left of our canned food, alright? I’m goin’ to pack everything else we need, don’t worry about a thing.”
He offers you a flashlight, which you gratefully take and click on. You’re glad that he gives you an easy task to focus on. You take the smaller backpack he offers you and make your way to the kitchen. You only have about 5 cans of food left and you carefully place them inside the bag before opening the refrigerator to pack a few full bottles of water that you have stored in there. You make sure to toss in a can opener just in case before you place the backpack on the couch. 
Simon emerges from the room with the large, military backpack slung over his shoulder. 
“You get it all?” he asks, taking a seat to shove his boots onto his feet.
“Yeah and a couple water bottles,” you respond, approaching him slowly.
“That’s perfect,” he praises, looking over at you, “You should go get dressed. Jeans and a hoodie. Put your sneakers on and make sure they’re tight, got it?”
You nervously do as you’re told, disappearing into the bedroom to quickly dress yourself under the flashlight. You can hear Simon moving around in the living room, heavy boots thumping against the floor with every step he takes. 
You toss the hoodie over your head and make your way back to Simon, who stands in the living room, looking out the window. The sun is just beginning to come up over the horizon, casting a dim amount of sunlight to come through. 
He turns to look at you when he hears you approach. 
“There you go,” he hums, pulling the hoodie up over your head and tightening the strings, “Keep your neck covered. We’ll find you some better clothing somewhere along the way.”
You nod your head and take a glance over his shoulder out the window. You can barely see the ground from your position but you can see people shuffling around on the streets below. A pang of fear goes through you as you realize that they’re most definitely not normal people – the streets are crawling with those undead freaks. 
Simon leads you to the door and unsheaths a weapon for you – a machete he had taught you to wield with relative ease. You grip it in your hands, nervously twirling it around until you find a comfortable position. Simon nods his head and pulls out a combat knife, holding it low at his side before opening the door. 
The descent to the lobby is relatively easy, you walk over the undead that have already been taken care of in the stairwell.
“I took care of these already,” he explains without you even having to ask, helping you jump over a pile of 3 zombies at the foot of the stairs. 
“You got more kills under your belt than me,” you comment, mostly in jest to lighten your mood.
Simon huffs under his breath, slowly pushing open the door to the lobby, “You have no idea.”
You squint and turn off your flashlight when you step into the well lit lobby. The sun is now above the horizon, allowing you to see with ease once again. 
Simon remains in front of you, making your way to the double front doors. You peek around him, heart racing in your chest as your grip on your weapon tightens.
“Are you ready?” he asks, casting a glance over his shoulder.
“No…” you confess, shuffling closer to him.
“Everything will be okay,” he promises firmly and you actually believe him. 
When he pushes open the door, the groans of the undead fill your ears and you find your eyes darting frantically around the streets that you can now see with terrifying clarity. 
Hundreds of undead swarm the streets, stumbling and groaning as they shuffle around aimlessly in search of food. Simon reaches down and takes your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. You know it’s going to be the fight of your life but with Simon by your side, you have faith that you’re going to make it through and find somewhere safe together.
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boxoftheskyking · 1 year
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Oh and quick note for writers:
One difference between this strike and the last one is that there are a lot more fellowships targeted at early career tv writers than there used to be (there have always been some, but the fellowship model is way more commonplace these days)
Studios are about to make a ton more of these opportunities and advertise them widely as a way to break into the industry, and they will be very specific about the fellowship not technically counting as a writers room or a tv job
THIS IS A TRICK TO GET YOU TO SCAB
Sharing any written content with a studio (even if they route it through a 3rd party "foundation" or development org or something) IS SCABBING
What you do in regards to the strike is your business, but the WGA has been very clear that anyone who scabs will be BANNED FROM JOINING THE UNION FOR LIFE. That means even if you get hired, that's no health & pension and no union protections for your entire career. This shit is serious
So please please double check and dig into any new submission opportunities you see in the next weeks. Playwrights especially be careful - many studios are finding their writers through play scripts these days so be very careful about how and where your work is being shared
No writing going to the studios means NO WRITING of any kind
(if you see suspicious fellowship stuff being passed around let me know, I'd love to keep an eye on that for my peeps)
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jarofstyles · 10 months
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More DAD!Harry pleasssseee like baby boy pouting because he wants to be treated like a big boy and Harry can't help but kiss his chubby cheeks????
PLEASNJENJRF I love dadrry so much
Check out our Patreon!
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"What is the frown for, peanut?" Harry's voice echoed in the kitchen as he saw his son sitting with his arms crossed in his booster seat. The tv show themed plate and cup set sat in front of him, Y/N having served lunch to them both and excusing herself to grab her own. "Do you not want this?"
It was his favorite. Grilled cheese that Y/N had cut into smaller squares, goldfish crackers, cut up grapes and strawberries neatly arranged on the plate and apple juice in his cup. He couldn't quite see anything wrong with it, but he had been reminded that toddlers changed their minds about their likes all the time.
"It's baby." He whispered, looking at the printed cup. Paw Patrol characters decorated the sides of the sippy cup. "Don't want to be baby. I want to be a big boy." His eyes looked up at Harry's, the color strikingly similar to his own as his brows furrowed.
"What demean, mate?" he looked at the food. "Nothin' too baby about it. Looks like a great meal that mumma made for us. Don't you like Paw Patrol?" the man reached out to brush some of the curls from his son's face, heart clenching a bit. He was the perfect mix of his younger self and his wife. He was growing up much to fast for Harry's liking. It felt like just the other day that he had been in the baby sling while Harry did the dishes, trying to keep him asleep by singing as to not disturb an exhausted Y/N who had just fallen asleep on the couch.
"It's baby." He looked down, kicking his feet. The light up shoes activated as they hit against the side of the table, feeling a little shy with his father's attention. "Want a big cup like you. Please?" His little voice tugged at his heartstrings, the earnest want in his tone making him purse his lips.
"Well... we can, but I have to say, I may steal the cup for myself." He sighed, looking at it in faux longing. "I've always wanted a cup like that. It's too cool for me though. Besides, it makes sure there's no spills. Y'don't want to get all sticky with the juice if it spills over, right?" He rubbed over his little cheek, watching as he visibly worked through what his daddy had said. It was a wonder to observe, seeing someone so new to life have such obvious emotions and though processes on his face.
"You like the cup?" He peeped. "It's cool?" his hands tugged at the bottom of his shirt as he looked at the cup Harry had taken in his hand. Seeing his father show interest meant it must be cool.
"I do. It's the coolest, and besides.. Mumma looked for ages for this cup for you." He smiled. "Why don't you use It for a while and we can get you a big cup in a few weeks, okay? I may steal the cup if you don't want to use it."
"No, Daddy! It's mine!" giggles left his now bright eyes. "You ca borrow it but.. it's cool. You said so. " The chubby hands reached for the cup which the man handed over, feigning hesitation.
"Okay, my lovely. But you better watch your back. I may come and take it."
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the-likesofus · 20 days
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Buddie Fic Recs
This is my 5th Buddie Rec List! I started compiling this list last April and omg looking back through them now I desperately need to reread them all. Highly recommend all of these fics, also please show the authors some love in their comments xx Happy Easter lovelies <3 REMINDER TO CHECK THE TAGS AND TRIGGER WARNINGS
where our eyes are never closing by @rewritetheending | T | 6k
After the lightning strike, Buck asks Eddie to take candid photos of him to help prove to Buck that he still exists. Absolute PEAK Softness. Buck through Eddie's eyes! I was a mushy puddle by the end. 10/10 would recommend. 
i got all my sisters with me by @useramor | T | 6k
Established relationship Buddie. Eddie’s sister has a baby and they travel down to Texas to meet the baby. DIAZ SIBLINGS UNITE! Seriously though the sibling dynamic in this is off the charts and Buck and Eddie are sickeningly in love, it is quite beautiful.
meet me where the tide comes in by @iinryer | G | 4k
A 3+1 fic about Eddie getting kissed on the head. FOREHEAD KISSES PTSD MORE HEAD KISSES AND BOYS IN LOVE!! Need I say anything more??
The one where Buck gets turned into a dog by @911onabc | G | 9k
Law Suit era BUT WAIT WAIT….DOG BUCK!! I am a sucker for fic where one of them gets turned into an animal. They are much more free with their affection when they think it's just a dog, or just a cat, and the bond between Eddie and "Boy" is so so wonderful. And I do love a happy ending xx
can't do this anymore (do it anyway) by @chronicowboy | T | 2k
Short and sweet but GOD this packs a punch. Eddie starts dating after the lightning strike and Buck is feeling Big Bad about it. He is so sad it truly breaks my heart but all works itself out in the end and Eddie proves Buck’s fears wrong.
We Found Each Other (Over There)  by @thekristen999 | T | 46k
Buddie WWII AU. A combat medic and a G.I. meet during one of the world’s greatest battles. This fic is a legitimate masterpiece. I cannot describe to you the quality of this fic because it is beyond words but I will tell you I stayed up until 3:30 am to finish it in one sitting and was left broken but made so so whole again. 
the mortifying ordeal of being known by @the-amber-raven | G | 60k
AU where Bobby is Buck’s adoptive Dad and Eddie is dating Buck but Eddie and Bobby think they are talking about two different people. Buck is training at the fire academy but hiding it from Bobby. This fic is the most beautiful tangle of miscommunication, love and family. 
like all good things are by @try-set-me-on-fire | T | 7k
Perfect, amazing, soul-destroying, magical, healing Fic. This literally covers all the bases. Chim and Bobby both get injured. OH! and Buck and Eddie were secretly dating all along. READ THIS FIC PEEPS!
find a way to you (if it kills me) by @eddiediazes  | M | 19k
The one where Eddie decides to start dating again, Buck figures out his own feelings just a minute too late, and then he spends a week going through the five stages of grief. BUCK PINING LV.10000000!
and i’d choose you (in a hundred lifetimes) by @monsterrae1 | E | 16k
Amnesia Exes fic by the wonderful Rae. Buck and Eddie fall in love via a penpal program and then Buck vanishes. This fic is set four years later. I literally could not put it down. I was reading it in class and then sat in my car for who knows how long just to finish it because I could not continue my day without knowing how it ended.
he never thinks of me (except when i'm on TV) by @loserdiaz | M | 18k 
APRIL'S FAMOUS!BUCK AND ARMY!EDDIE FIC!! In which Eddie finds out years later that his unrequited feelings for his high school best friend were not actually unrequited, Buck is stupidly famous now and they pine. OH THEY PINNNEEEEE! It’s delicious. 
every time we stop talking (the universe starts screaming) by @chronicowboy | M | 21k 
Alternative S7, Buddie Divorce Era Pt.2. Buck does something reckless and Eddie gets angry about it but these boys cannot communicate effectively to save their lives! This fic is peak angst to a happy ending and I felt like I had a hole in my chest OMG.
left your mark on this heart by @chronicowboy | G | 5k
Buck gets medically diagnosed with butterflies and the doctor makes him write in a notebook every time it happens. Surprise, surprise, the cause and effect is Eddie-related. The notebook entries kill me in the best way, the happiest happy ending
ALSO, YES THIS IS THE THIRD FIC BY THE SAME AUTHOR ON THIS LIST WHAT ARE YOU GONNA DO ABOUT IT?? READ IT IS WHAT! COS THEY'RE SO DAMN GOOD. 
endless numbered days by @cal-daisies-and-briars | G | 13k 
Buck and Eddie's wedding but from Bobby's POV as Bobby reflects on the family he lost and the one he gained. Absolutely beautiful, I cried.
don’t wanna let you love somebody else but me by @shitouttabuck | T | 14k
Chris wants dating advice so obviously Buck and Eddie decide to Fake Date for research purposes. This fic is PEAK adorable, sappy, and awkward Buddie. They’re idiots but we love them and the certainly love each other. READ THIS FIC! 
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sehodreams · 2 months
Note
ok listen to me. sub! anton who is extremely sensitive and that's why he begs several times and cries slyly when you decide to give him a blowjob as a gift due to his win of 119.. "i can't take it anymore..." – cries – "please let me cum..." – he cries slyly. — "there's so much to come...please...let me cum, please..."
Sub!Anton awakes something inside me istg
I'm sorry I don't know what the hell is this, I fastly wrote it, and that means, again, no proof read.
Tw and Tags: sexual content, MDNI, oral sex, sub!Anton x dom!reader, established relationship.
WC: 1.4K
He had been busy for weeks, first filming the MV in Japan and then overworked with his schedule, so he didn't have enough time to sleep even less have an orgasm, everything accumulating inside him for days until he finally had a free day to do whatever he wanted, with no manager following him behind and no other guy beside him all the time, he could go out alone, and he couldn't waste such opportunity.
You were immediately called when he received the news, "I'll drop by this Friday" he invited himself before asking if you were free, of course you'd make some time for your cute boyfriend, but you still teased him, "okay, please water my cactus, I'll be gone until next week".
Yeah, he spammed you with crying faces until you said it was a joke.
The minute he saw you behind that door after so many weeks not seeing each other he wrapped you with his arms, and lifting you from the floor, he smelled your hair and murmured how much he missed you.
You knew each other, you knew you would fuck, but first you had to make up for the lost time.
You talked for some time, he was watching you in his seat while you tried to cook some pasta to have lunch, it came out decent, and he focused on watching the curve of your back being shown with the tied apron.
You ate and talked about what happened in those past days, laughing at incidents and gossiping about other people's lives too. Then, when you were satisfied with catching on, you lazily dropped to the sofa to rot together for a while. The afternoon had become night, and the lights were off, having your tv like the only source of light in your apartment.
Anton had a way to feel comfortable with you that sometimes surprised you. He liked to leave his arm behind you and nuzzle his nose in your hair or neck, sometimes almost falling asleep of how comfy he was feeling, but this time you could feel him uneasy, like something was bothering him and he couldn't freely say what, which was unusual since he always said what he wanted without problem.
You tried to guess what that was, and soon you found your answer.
His eyes weren't on you, attention supposedly directed to the tv in front of you two, but you could see him moving his hips trying to find a position that didn’t reveal much his cock, covering it with his long shirt. However, it was impossible to not notice how hard he was, he was so big that you could clearly see the outline of it under his clothes, and you thought about teasing him a little, but his eyes were so sad, and he had been so stressed those days without you that you decided to not push him so much. ‘’Oh, I almost forgot, congratulations for your win’’ you interrupted the silent moment.
He nodded and smile, eyes dropping to the floor and fingers playing with the hem of his shirt.
‘’Should I give you your prize now?’’
Just that sentenced changed the whole air. The coziness changed to lust in seconds and before you even touch him, he had already pushed down his pants and his underwear only enough to free his cock from its prison.
The tip was so red you felt the need to caress it, not jerk it, caress it with your palm until it leaked. A little drop was already peeping, and your heart clenched, poor boy had endured it so much you couldn’t just leave him like that, you knew that it didn’t matter what you did, he would cry that night.
You didn’t drop to your knees, you knew how he liked you to suck it, he liked to be under you all the time, so you pushed his chest until he was lying over the couch, one leg beside you and another giving to the floor, and after playing with it a little bit and hearing his breath get hard, you licked the whole length, from the tip to the base, to then devour him.
With the little spit you used to make it wet you lubricated it to easily slide and touch the back of your throat, and not even the first sucking motion you gave he was already a mess.
His hips were jolting after being so untouched those days, not being able to even touch himself properly, and the velvet walls of your mouth were too much for him, not sure how much he would be able to hold himself.
Your eyes were on his and it somehow made him more vulnerable, making his cock pulse more precum inside your mouth.
Some of your saliva was sliding on the border of your mouth and when he saw that, even with his moans making his mind dizzy, by instinct it went to clean it, he wasn’t think it at all, but his body was in automatic motion ready to be useful for you.
‘’Thank you, sweetheart’’ you said when you decided to take a little break. He looked so cute under you with his teary eyes and red lips of how much he had bit them to not moan loud, but it didn’t matter what he tried, his voice would come out his throat in painful whimpers. ‘’You want to cum?’’ You asked him with a sly smile. You knew he wanted, but you wanted to hear it too.
‘’Yes…’’ he immediately answered.
‘’Uhmm, a little fast don’t you think?’’ you laughed. His blush started to creep his pierced ears, a little silver earing reflecting the light of the tv and distracting you from how pretty he looked, but a single tear falling down his cheek made you lost interest on it.
‘’I’m sorry, I can’t take it anymore’’ he started, ‘’I missed you so much, and I didn’t cum all those days. I swear, I didn’t touch myself, I thought about it, but I never had the opportunity, and when once I tried to do it, it wasn’t the same, I missed you so much I couldn’t even get close to it.’’
His confession made you happy, your pretty boy was unable to cum without you, you had worked so hard for that, he deserved it.
He deserved it, but not so fast.
‘’Well done, good boy’’ you said, and his cock throbbed in your grip while a proud smile appeared on his face.
You continued doing your previous job, sucking him to the base and testing your gag reflex with the massive member he had, so happy that you were the only one able to make it cum, it was yours and only yours, not even his, yours, and you would take care of it like you should.
‘’Please let me cum’’ he cried, eyes on yours, hands on fists not daring to touch you without permission and toes already curling. ‘’there's so much to come...please...let me cum, please..."
The tv had changed the program to a commercial the minute he asked for it and you knew between the various adds it would take at least three minutes before the show appeared again.
‘’Until the commercial break ends, okay?’’ You ordered with an amiable tone.
He accepted, saying a breathy yes, and closing his eyes with force to muster all the strength he had.
Your hand went to his balls, groping them and loving the way he was almost convulsing under you, fighting the urge to cum inside your mouth.
You continued like that, sucking and choking on his cock until you heard the fourth commercial, that would be the last one, and a bubbly laugh formed inside your throat when you saw him and his members promoting some kind of chocolate.
The sweat difference between the boy in the screen and the one under you brought you so much joy, you decided it was enough.
‘’It’s okay now, pretty boy.’’
A guttural moan left his mouth, and his left fist punched the back of the sofa while the other covered his eyes shut that stopped a long trail of tears from coming out.
His cock started to twitch inside your mouth and thick drops of cum flowed your mouth, making you drip inside your panties with the confirmation that his statement had been truth.
You gulped, loving the way his semen was thicker and hotter than usual, pleased with the view under you, his shirt over his tummy, his cock still twitching when you pulled it out, his red face shining with a thin layer of sweat and lost teary eyes looking at you with admiration.
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comet-forgot-you · 3 months
Note
need some vampire amber freeman x human reader smut
ily for this omg
teeth
vampire!amber freeman x human!reader
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summary: your girlfriend is gone for a week and d shows up with what you think is a shitty excuse.
warnings: 18+ pls, smut, fingering, oral, biting, blood sucking, needy top!amber, i think thats all.
a/n: what if i said i love twilight, what then. idk this is kinda silly at beginning and end but it gets the tiniest bit intense. do not repost for any reason.
amber had been gone for over a week without reaching out to you for an explanation. a week of you checking her location, spamming her phone, calling nonstop. it wasn’t like her, she could barely go an hour without talking to you let alone an entire week.
you wanted needed her to say something, anything. whether it was over between the two of you, an explanation from her telling you why she had been gone for so long without an explanation, hell even a simple “hey” would do, you just missed her and needed her to say something.
you spent your nights on the couch, attempting to drown out your racing thoughts with the sound of the tv. even that barely managed to soothe the nonstop thoughts of amber’s whereabouts or whatever reasoning your brain could possibly think of to explain her absence.
a knock interrupted your thoughts, you glance away from the tv. whoever it was would have to come back tomorrow. it was late and you had no interest in opening that door. a minute passes before more frantic knocks come from the door. you groan, pulling yourself from the couch and follow the sounds of insistent knocking on the door. you look through the peep hole and relief floods your body.
amber
its amber.
holy shit its amber.
you make quick work of unlocking the door, allowing yourself to be face to face with the girl. her jaw clenches the second you open it. she’s beautiful, skin clear of any blemishes it held before.
“what the fuck?” your mouth acts before your brain can stop it. amber’s eyes are darker than their usual color, eyes softening the moment the words leave your lips. “where the fuck have you been? you don’t text me, you don’t call me, you just disappear for a week, what the fuck?” your voice rises with every word and amber winces.
“baby, please. js’ lemme explain. can i come in?” you let out a huff of air, standing back to widen the door. amber stays still, eyes darting around the entrance of your home.
“you just gonna stand there? come in,” you say, raising your eyebrows at her random hesitation. she comes in, standing behind you as you shut and lock the door.
“sorry, just,” she lets out a huff of air, “nervous,” she finishes, fiddling with her hands. you turn to face her. shes so pretty and god did you miss her. you wrap your arms around her waist, resting your head on her shoulder. her body is tense underneath your arms. shes still, her arms make no move to wrap around you, shes just still. hell you’re not even sure she’s breathing.
“where the fuck have you been amber,” you say, pulling away from you.
“i didnt think it was real,” she mumbles, taking a step back. your eyebrows furrow. “thought they were joking and then they fucking did it and now..” she trails off, looking around the room for a brief moment.
“who did what? what was real?” you ask, her attention returns back to you.
“im a vampire.” you cant help the laugh that leaves your throat.
“yeah fucking right. you leave for a week with no reasoning and the best excuse you can come up with is that you’re a vampire? are you fucking kidding me? if you needed space, amber, you could’ve just said that, you didnt have to make an excuse up, a dumb one at that.” you shake your head, brushing past the dark haired girl. she’s quick to follow after you.
“im not joking. i know it sounds stupid, i just, i don’t fucking know. i just wanted to go to that stupid concert with tara and a few of her other friends and then someone did something, i don’t even know what happened, all i remember was waking up in the worst pain i’ve ever felt in my life and a thirst that water wasnt helping in the slightest,” the words fall from her lips at a speed you didnt know she could possess. her shoulders were stiff as she paced your living room.
“so, what, you went out and bit someone and said ‘hey, that was pretty good, i think ill do it again.”? do you even hear yourself?” you huff, leaning back into your couch.
“i know it sounds stupid, but its true,” she looks around the room, searching for some way to prove it to you. she takes a seat next to you, “watch,” she opens her mouth, canines growing sharper and longer in seconds and your eyes widen. your fingers move to poke at the sharp ends, a slight hiss coming from your lips the second it pricks your fingers, the smallest drop of blood forming on your finger. amber’s quick to pull your hand away, snapping her mouth shut. her fingers are freezing against your wrist. she takes a deep breath in, eyes closed. “y/n, im sorry, but it, you smell so fucking good,” she mutters, jaw clenching.
“what, a little drop of blood gets you thirsty?” you tease, the droplet of blood falls down your finger. amber’s gaze flickers to you, your eyebrow raises slightly. you shake your hand from her hold and hold her jaw with your opposite hand. “open up,” you mumble. she does exactly that, her jaw falling slack in your hand. you press your bloodied finger against her tongue and her mouth closes. she wastes no time sucking the blood off of your finger. a whine threatens to escape your throat at the sight. you squeeze her face between your hand and she opens her mouth again. you pull your finger from her lips, a whine escaping her throat in the process.
“y/n..” she whimpers, pushing herself closer to your body. “taste s’ good.” she presses her lips against your neck, your heart beating so loudly in your chest, you’re certain she can hear it. she pushes you back, settling between your thighs as she litters purplish marks across your skin.
cold hands meet the warm skin of your stomach and you gasp at the chill, arching your back off of the cushions. “you’re hands are so fucking cold,” you hiss, hands flying to tangle in her hair. she hums against your neck, sharp teeth scraping the skin. she presses a thigh against your clothed core, your hips buck into it.
“wanna taste you, baby, please?” you nod frantically and she rips your shirt open, leaving your chest exposed. the sight of her ripping your shirt open had you grinding yourself down on her thigh. amber was never that strong, that needy for you. it sent heat plummeting to the pit of your stomach.
she circles your erect nipples with her tongue, hands moving to remove your pants. “sh-shit amber. so fuckin.. shit.. so fuckin needy.” breathy moans break your words apart, “please.” she pulls back for a split second before shes back on you, both of your pants long gone in that tiny amount of time. “holy shit,” you mumble, arching into her cool thigh. her actions are quick against your body, her mouth on your needy cunt in minutes.
you whine the second her tongue meets your pulsing clit. a cold finger sinks into your greedy hole, a strewn out moan falling from your lips. you two had experimented with ice, but this was a million times better than previous experiences ever were.
she curls her finger in your cunt, tongue circling your clit at a faster pace than shes ever had. she was a lot quicker, and she used it to her advantage. “taste so fucking good,” she moans into your cunt, the added vibration sending a new wave of wetness to soak her finger. she pushes another finger into your soaking cunt, curling and scissoring them into you at an inhumane pace.
“fuuck,” you moan out, arching off of the cushions. it was so much, the way her fingers were fucking into you like she needed your orgasm in order for her to survive had your head spinning. sharp teeth poke your clit and your hips still, the feelings new, and so fucking exciting. her tongue is back on your clit just as fast as it left. your orgasm is fast approaching, heart besting erratically.
“gonna cum, baby? can hear your heart beating s’ fast. its okay, you can cum, want you to cum so bad,” her fingers curl into your cunt perfectly and youre coming against her faster than you ever had, juices coating her cold fingers. she pulls them out, lapping it up quickly with her tongue. she groans at the taste, vibrations causing your body to jerk against her tongue.
she presses kisses against your thighs, teeth scraping against the fat of them. you prop yourself up on your elbows, watching as she does her best to keep herself from sinking her teeth into your skin.
“you.. you can bite, ambs,” you mutter. amber looks up at you, rubbing at the skin of your thighs.
“what if it hurts you? i don’t want to hurt you,” her voice is full of emotion, yet so needy. “what if i can’t stop?” the question lingers in the air. what if she cant stop? what if it kills you? its a risk you’re willing to take.
“i trust you.” the words are all it takes for amber to sink her fangs into your thigh. the area burns, your head spinning as she drains blood from your body. a whimper leaves her throat, heat flooding through both of your bodies. it hurts, but at the same time feels so fucking good. your hips buck off of the couch for a split second.
you feel almost light headed, you were losing blood fast. you nudge amber with your other thigh but the girl hardly budges. she glances up at you, eyes dark.
“amber,” you can barely get her name out. she looks almost apologetic. “amber, baby, please,” it seems to pull her from her trance like state. she unlatches herself from your thigh, lapping up the blood that drips out afterward.
“sorry, im sorry, im so sorry,” she mumbles, reaching out to hold your hand. “taste s’ good.” she trails kisses up your body, quiet “im sorrys” falling from her lips after every kiss.
“its okay,” your voice is quiet, eyes tired. she presses a kiss to your lips. “felt kinda good,” you say against her lips. she smiles, pulling away to press kisses around your face. “wait does this mean i cant have garlic anymore?” amber rolls her eyes, smacking your shoulder lightly.
“you can still have garlic you idiot.”
252 notes · View notes
theemporium · 8 months
Note
ooh, looked at all the prompts and uh “It’s not like this with them.” with trevor? please and thank you
thank you for requesting!🫶🏽
.
“Can you please come pick him up?”
“Jamie—”
“Please. You know I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t an emergency.”
When you had settled down on your couch earlier that weekend, you had expected to have an easy night in. You had a frozen pizza ready to be demolished, a bottle of wine in the fridge and a new season of a tv show you vaguely remembered the plot of to keep you entertained for the night. 
Now, somewhere after midnight, you were driving through the roads of Anaheim to go collect Trevor from some bar that Jamie had set you the address of. Usually, this wouldn’t have been a problem. In fact, you probably would have laughed at the whole time and teased the boy about it in the morning. 
Usually being the operative word.
Because you actually hadn’t spoken to Trevor for around a week now. 
It was stupid. So fucking stupid. You weren’t sure if the fight bothered you, or if you just felt stupid for asking the question in the first place. But you never thought it would have blown up the way it did.
You and Trevor had been seeing each other for a while now. Weeks of texting turned into late night phone calls even when he was on the other side of the country. Hang outs in his flat turned into fun dates where he absolutely spoiled you. 
Nobody had made you feel the way Trevor did.
You had been at his and Jamie’s flat like you usually were on your day off. You had ordered takeout, watched a movie, cuddled on the couch and then you two were just talking. It hadn’t even meant to be a heavy question because honestly, you thought it was obvious. After the dates and the texts and spending almost every day since you had met talking in some way, you thought it was so fucking obvious. 
So, does this mean I can call you my boyfriend now?
A casual question that turned into a full blown screaming match between the two of you until you had left the apartment in tears in the middle of the night and he had stormed off to his room, slamming the door loudly behind him.
Neither one of you had spoken or seen each other since then.
Until now.
“I’m sorry—” Jamie started but you just shook your head.
“It’s fine,” you said with a strained smile as the defenceman helped you get the boy into the car.
He was drunk. Maybe drunk didn’t even begin to cover how fucked he was. He was smashed, absolutely fucking gone and it was not a new sight. Since the night of your fight, he had been on a downwards spiral. Usually it was just snappy comments to teammates or trying to instigate more fights on the game they had a few days ago. 
But it had never gotten to the point of him drinking his feelings away. 
“You came for me,” he giggled as he slumped in the car seat, turning his head to stare at you. “I didn’t think you would come for me.”
“I came because Jamie asked,” you stated simply, keeping your eyes on the road instead of the boy next to you.
Surprisingly, Trevor had stayed silent for the rest of the drive, which was very unusual for him. Usually you couldn’t shut him up, even when he was drunk. But the boy hadn’t spoken a peep. 
He didn’t say a single word as you helped him out of the car, his arm thrown over your shoulder and your arm wound around his waist. He didn’t say a word as you helped him into your flat, guiding him towards your spare room. He didn’t say a word as you handled him a glass of water and ordered him to drink it.
He didn’t say a word until you turned to leave.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled as his hand darted out to grip your waist, to prevent you from walking away. “I don’t like fighting with you.”
“You seem to like it a lot when you’re sober,” you couldn’t help but bite back. A week of emotions were bubbling inside you, and you couldn’t make them stop.
“I didn’t mean it,” he admitted to you, his eyes blinking slowly as he stared up at you with those damn puppy dog eyes. “I didn’t mean any of it.”
You swallowed the lump in the back of your throat. “Then why did you say it?”
“I got scared,” he confessed in a shy voice, one that was so unlike him. “Usually I don’t really care and everything is just a bit of fun. Usually girls say it and I just let them say it. I let them call me their boyfriend.”
You tried to ignore the way your heart pinched. “So I just didn’t make the cut?”
He shook his head, tugging you closer by your wrist. “No, no. It’s just…it’s not like this with them.”
Your brows furrowed together in confusion. “Like what?”
“You make my heart go really fast,” he murmured as he looked up at you with big, glossy eyes and pouty lips. “And I feel like I always have butterflies when you’re near me. And it should be so fucking scary but…I don’t think it scares me. I like it. I like it a lot. I like you a lot and it scared me that I wasn’t scared. It scared me that I wanted so much more with you and I didn’t know if you’d feel the same.”
Your features softened. “Trev—”
“I promise I didn’t mean it,” his voice was quiet and raspy. “I don’t like fighting. I don’t wanna keep fighting. I don’t wanna lose you.”
“You’re not gonna lose me,” you murmured as you shifted your hand out of his grasp, moving to push his hair back and watching as his eyes fluttered shut with the action. “Get some sleep. We will talk in the morning.”
Trevor looked like he wanted to argue but he was cut off by his own yawn. “Promise?”
“Promise.”
.
307 notes · View notes
Text
Buck & Eddie: "Is she staying in the picture?"... because Buck's not going anywhere!
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In a recent article, RG was asked about M and his response was:
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His response was similar to all his other answers regarding the status of Eddie's "relationship" with M or the lack thereof which could mean they will not be doing whatever they are or were attempting to do for long.
Also, as I included in a previous post (linked here), the colors of the t-shirt and hoodie Chris wore in 6x18 when Eddie was talking on the phone with M, illustrated something different than what he said about "Why is he so bad at this?" It showed that Chris is not ok with Eddie dating her, probably since he doesn't know her.
When asked what Chris thinks of Eddie's relationships, RG responded...
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I've also stated in other posts that whoever Eddie dates, they have to love both him and Chris and so far, the only person who fits that description is Buck!
Let's talk about M shall we?
In season 6, before 6x17 aired, I included in a post (linked here) that Eddie saw the way M looked at her brother in 6x5 with raised eyebrows and he witnessed the same thing the audience did... a sibling relationship that reminded him of that "Folgers TV commercial" from the 1980s. Also, reminder, most viewers didn't even remember who she was and based on several comments that were posted on social media both after the episode aired and recently, a lot of them still don't. Additionally, she doesn't have a last name (neither does Connor and Kameron but I'll elaborate on that in another post) so that illustrates how much the show cares about her character.
In this post, I'm elaborating more on the previous one and I'm taking things one step further by looking at the totality of Eddie's interactions with her in S6 and providing my opinion at the end.
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In 6x5, when the 118 arrived at M's home, Eddie didn't really even look at her, so it was interesting to see him do a double take later in the season.
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After they freed her brother from her attic, they put him in the ambulance and she rode with them to the hospital. This is the scene where Eddie peeped the fact that she might be in love with her brother and the looks on Eddie's and Chimney's faces were priceless. It's also the scene that prompted many comments from the audience about M's interaction with her brother.
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Later, in the same episode, Buck and Eddie returned with some additional firefighters (???) to help her repair her ceiling but please look at Eddie, he's wearing shades but IT WAS CLOUDY, THEREFORE THE SUN WAS NOT SHINING. Why was he wearing them when no one else was? Also, he arrived with Buck and they were looking at each other the same way they always do with Buck looking over his shoulder at Eddie (post linked here).
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In 6x17, when he saw her at the hardware store, he was there looking for something for Chris the same way he had been the last two times with SD and AF instead of him looking for something for himself (post linked here).
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In 4x13, Carla told him, "BE SURE YOU'RE FOLLOWING YOUR HEART AND NOT CHRISTOPHER'S, OK!" But it was more than two years later and he was still searching for the person who loves both him and Chris even though he was right in front of him. That person is Buck.
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In 6x18, when he was thinking about texting her, the scene where he got her number was never shown and viewers were trying to figure out when it happened. Reminder, in 6x5 Buck was there too and if he had gotten her number then, Buck would have said something when they were at the cemetery in 6x15 but he didn't.
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Later, when he finally did call, he said, "It's Eddie from the hardware store" and the reason he said it like that was because he told Buck in 6x15 that it never works out with someone they meet on a call. Well, Eddie in fact did meet her on a call which means their relationship or whatever... is/was DOOMED from the start just like Buck's was with N.
Now I have many thoughts about his interactions with M but I'll share the one I believe is the most relevant and the most important. When Eddie first met her, he didn't even notice her and later during the ambulance ride, he SAW the way she interacted with her brother, hence his raised eyebrows. Both him and Chimney were like WTF is this? And the audience felt the same way when we saw it too.
M is not memorable and most people had completely forgotten about her and the episode she first appeared in which I think was the point that was being made by 9-1-1. Nothing had changed about her from 6x5 to 6x17 so what exactly did he SEE months later that he didn't see before?
IMO, when Eddie saw her in 6x17, based solely on what he saw in 6x5 (the way she acted with her brother), he may have thought asking her out wouldn't be a big deal and it wouldn't go anywhere so he didn't have to worry about them getting too serious. And, the double take he did later in 6x17 when he bumped into her at the hardware store kind of proves it. Also, since he told Buck while they were at the cemetery, "Really? Dating someone you rescued? You know that never ends well!"; it appears they both knew that to be true but for whatever reason, they attempted to date M and N anyway (I have thoughts about this too and they're related to their conversation and other things that happened during season 6).
The point of this post is to highlight the possibility that Eddie knew going in with M that it wouldn't get too serious and it would end quickly. Now some people have created a whole life for Eddie and M even though he's only known her for a few weeks or a couple of months tops (depending on the time jump which is practically nonexistent). Please understand Eddie's number one priority is Chris and his number two is Buck, therefore M is so far down on the totem pole that anything she suggests about his son, his Buck, his job or his life would be laughed at by Eddie and viewers too and RG's comment about "if she's in the picture" kind of proves that point.
Let's talk about Buck, the love of Eddie's life shall we?
Eddie's relationship with Buck is a once in a lifetime, love of their lives, soulmate type of love that transcends space and time. I've said it numerous times (linked here) and I'll continue to say and scream it because they're in love with each other and NO ONE (no random love interest or hookup) will ever be able to give them what they've continued to share with each other for the past five years. Buck's definition of love in 5x18 described everything he already has with Eddie and Eddie putting Buck in his will as Chris' legal guardian was the second time he gave him his heart. Buck gave Eddie his heart too in 5x14.
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In RG's most recent interview, he confirmed Eddie loves Buck and not only does he love him, he said, "I love you to the core!"
If that's not a soulmate, love of my life type of love then, I don't know what is.
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Reminder, not only is M not in the picture, she's also NOT EVEN IN THE HOUSE. Even though AF stayed at Eddie's house during the blackout, he broke up with her after Buck told him he should🤪😜. Then he went home and told AF, "Maybe you should go home first" (I still LOL at that moment to this day). I wonder what he's going to say to M? Something like "Maybe you should go back to the hardware store." I know he won't but if he did, it would be EPIC.
They're in love your honor!
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Anyway, please remember Buck's not only been in the house but Eddie's home is his home too because Buck's not a guest there (post linked here).
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Buck and Eddie have keys to each other's places (they've had them for years).
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Furthermore, Eddie's couch is Buck's couch too and he's slept on it many times.
He's everything Eddie's been searching for in a partner and all he's been waiting for is for Buck to get it.
Will Buck finally realize Eddie gave him his heart years ago or will it be more wash, rinse and repeat scenes with both of them "looking for love in all the wrong places with too many faces?" (It's a song lyric.)
From the way OS talks about how much Buck loves Eddie and the way RG talks about how Eddie loves Buck, maybe, just maybe Season 7 will be the one that they finally go CANON but only the showrunner, writers and producers know if they will.
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viaviv124 · 2 months
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Little addition to my post debunking Nayfrogs (i shall stay with this term because it's hillarious) because i just remembered. Bullfrog is a war vet. He fought in the Wasteland war.
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We don't know when exactly this war was but Eden exists for roughly 40 years now, meaning Bullfrog is probably in his mid 30s considering he grew up there. Preeeetty sure this man is old and mature enough to decide shit on his own. You're telling me a guy who spent probably his entire or most of his life training to be an assassin and also served in a war against Eden is being groomed by something he saw on TV when he was a small child? We don't know if hybrids can reproduce on their own (allthough Bullfrogs full name "Bullfrog Korvin Jr." suggests it) and if he was made in a lab i'm also pretty sure the Rayman Show was forced on him in an attempt to "form" him.
I really don't get your grooming point, peeps. If y'all watched Spongebob as a kid and 30+ years you meet him and you hated him at first but would end up dating him eventually, would he have groomed you? He didn't even know you existed when you were a child. Please explain your logic to me because i am genuinely curious on how you came up with it.
As people have stated before, if an age gap makes you uncomfortable, that's fine. If you dont like a ship, that's fine. Block and move on. I feel like unless a ship actually has a bunch of problematic shit you want to call attention to (like literally a child and an adult, i will die on this hill) there's no need to say something. There's shit people shouldnt enable from my view point. But consenting adults with an age gap because one of them is pretty much an ageless being made of light? Yeah no. That's just petty.
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theturtlelovers · 4 days
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"Cum for me baby" from Don with his girlfriend please?
₩Φ₹$Ω¡₽₽¡₪g $¡₪
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Pairing: Donnie/fem!Reader Rating: Explicit Contents: Donnie is strangely overcome with the need to have you right then and there. Warnings: 18+, mdni, mating season, hickeys, creampies, unprotected p in v (wrap it up peeps) Wordcount: 1,594 Sentence Prompt: # 75
𝕊𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕖 ℙ𝕣𝕠𝕞𝕡𝕥𝕤
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Notes: Excuse my poor attempt of being more poetic in my writing! Hope you enjoy!
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Your presence was like a living temptation to him, as if every cell in your body was crafted to make him lose control around you. Carnally irresistible, Donnie found it impossible to keep his hands off of you. Earlier, he had tried with great effort to keep his eyes on the TV, but your scent drifted into his nostrils—so sweet and enticing. Overcome, he leaned down to breathe deeply in the crook of your neck.
The look you gave him almost made him shudder visibly. You appeared concerned by his sudden change in behavior, yet there was an undeniable excitement in your eyes as he ran his tongue over your pulse point.
He wasn't sure if something was wrong with him, but he wasn't entirely focused on figuring it out, as your soft gasps were far more captivating than anything else. His skin felt like it was on fire, and his glasses had become an irritation, so he quickly removed them and tossed them onto the coffee table. He didn’t need them anyway; you were close enough that he could clearly see your beautiful expressions.
Donnie was a turtle steeped in science, his expertise evident in the gadgets he wielded both in the lab and on patrol. He had deciphered ancient codes to deactivate a timed toxic bomb threatening New York City and uncovered the mysteries of the purple ooze. Yet, in your presence, all logic seemed to evaporate, leaving him a slave to his emotions. His instincts urged him to keep you selfishly close and immerse himself in your natural scent. He desired to fill the very being he worshiped with his essence so intensely that no one else could occupy your thoughts but him.
But as time stretched on, it seemed like hours had passed, and he was certain you were too overwhelmed to form a coherent thought. Your skin was flushed, adorned with a trail of red marks across your delicate skin—marks destined to deepen into purple.
It almost felt like your first time together, heated with a passion so intense that you couldn't stop trying to touch each other, yet tinged with nervousness due to a lack of familiarity with each other's physical needs. However, despite the similar rush of emotions, Donnie's hands never fumbled or shook with uncertainty. They moved with confidence and precision, driven by an eager desire to worship your very existence.
Just a tilt of your head was enough for him to capture your soft lips with his, sighing softly as he found a semblance of relief amidst his lustful haze. His large hands were intent on exploring the canvas of your body despite the fact he’s seen more times he can count, gently kneading your flesh, which was much softer than his own. 
"Donnie..." Your whine pierced through his haze of desire.
He shuddered this time at the sound, murmuring, "So pretty and all for me.” The turtle licked his lips, dried from his heavy pants for air.  
The space between your thighs glistened with a mixture of your juices and his essence—a beautiful concoction, Donnie might add. Despite the evidence that he had finished inside you several times, his attention remained laser-focused on your pleasure, his mind relentlessly urging him to give more and more. It would be remiss of him not to, especially when your lips parted so beautifully with each mewl that escaped them.
He pressed one hand firmly on your back to keep you pinned against the couch. A fleeting thought crossed his mind, wondering if a three-fingered imprint would remain, but it quickly dissipated as he became captivated by the way the sweat on your skin sparkle ethereally.
Seriously, were you a fallen angel hell-bent on cursing him to eternally crave your body? No matter how many times he made you cry out his name, no matter how tightly you clenched around him that is felt like you were pulling him deeper until he climaxed, he still wanted more. Or perhaps he needed more. Donnie couldn't tell anymore; his thoughts were so tangled that he couldn't distinguish desire from necessity. Either way, it seemed his body was surrendering to its own carnal instincts, relentlessly seeking release with you, in you.
Donnie muttered a curse under his breath as his free hand slipped beneath you, caressing the bundle of nerves that made your thighs begin to quiver. Your hands clutched weakly at the cushions, moaning with abandon.
He hissed through clenched teeth as he felt your inner walls tighten around him once more. "Come for me, baby. You can do it," he encouraged gently.
It was only a moment more before you released a stuttering squeal, your nectar coating him further as he continued to thrust into you, riding out your orgasm. Donnie bit his lower lip as his torso lowered to brush against your back, emitting a groan and a deep, reverberating churr that would make Raph envious. He pushed himself as deep as he could inside you as he came. Your smaller hand clung to the wrist of the hand between your legs, panting loudly.
Finally, Donnie's mind began to clear, his intense sexual need appearing to wane and find satisfaction. He hoped he hadn't pushed you too far.
You seemed to recognize that it was over when Donnie didn’t immediately resume thrusting into you with his previous unrestrained vigor. Slumping beneath him, you felt his weight relax as he lazily placed kisses on the hickeys decorating your shoulders. Both of you appeared content to remain in your current position, with him still inside you, enjoying the quiet aftermath together.
"Holy shit..." you mumbled.
He let out a soft chuckle. "Too much?"
You shook your head. "No, no. It was amazing! I just don't know what came over you so suddenly.”
“I actually don’t know either,” Donnie hummed thoughtfully. Carefully, he pulled away and slipped out from the comfort of your warmth. He had to restrain himself and look away when he heard you release a small whine, feeling the emptiness and his essence dripping down your inner thigh.
Donnie quickly put his glasses back on and walked away to grab some water and a towel for you. While he was gone for that brief moment, you sat up, grimacing from the familiar soreness setting in. You hadn't felt this achy in over two years, back when you were both fresh adults, newly eager to explore the beginnings of your sexual life together.
Once your turtle lover returned, he insisted on helping you clean up despite your protests about him being just as messy. Nevertheless, he was determined, so you let him help subconsciously avoiding your inner folds to leave them coated with his essence. After ensuring you were comfortable, he took care of himself.
After redressing lightly, you headed into the kitchen, taking the water Donnie had provided with you. Following a session like that, you definitely needed some food. Donnie, meanwhile, simply pulled up his underwear and lingered in the kitchen, watching you closely. His instincts urged him to stay nearby.
His mind was still slightly clouded from the spontaneous moment, but not enough to impair his decision-making. He had a gut feeling that the intense desire might return. It was confusing, though, why such behavior was manifesting in the first place, especially since nothing specific seemed to trigger his sudden, overwhelming urge to take you right then and there on the couch.
And your poor couch. It was probably ruined from your activities now. You two had used it like dogs in heat. Huh. Like dogs in heat. In heat. Heat. Heat!
Donnie's eyes widened impossibly with realization. He and his brothers were now at a sexually mature age. Furthermore, it was that time of year—mating season for red-eared sliders, when they succumb to their need to breed.
Oh God, he was in heat and completely unprepared for it. He cringed at the thought of what his brothers must be enduring without a partner to satisfy their reproductive urges. He guessed it was wrong to assume they wouldn’t experience it just because they hadn't felt it immediately after reaching puberty. Casting a long glance in your direction as you prepared packaged ramen, Donnie walked into the living room to grab his phone and sent Leo a text. It was around this time that his family usually gathered for dinner.
Donnie: How’s things going at the lair?
The self-taught scientist received a swift reply from Leo, who was always prompt when responding to Donnie, knowing it wouldn’t be just another meme or silly pun. Unlike Raph and Mikey, who enjoyed sending Leo those sorts of messages just to tease him.
Leo: Everything fine
Leo: Why? Should there be something happening?
Donnie lifted a brow. Donnie: No, no! I was just checking in! See ya later He set his phone down on the coffee table, his lips pursing in confusion. Leo wasn’t one to mislead about the state of their close-knit family, so surely everything was fine with them. It seemed the issue was just with him. Perhaps it was because he was the only one among his brothers who had any sort of sexual experience.
Donnie turned at the sound of your feet pattering across the floor as you returned with two bowls of steaming ramen. He couldn't really complain. Not when you approached him, your body adorned with such beautiful marks, a testament to the intensity of their earlier moments together.
Since you were around, maybe this experience won’t be so bad.
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Tagging:@mrghostings, @whygz @supershiny-raven Interested in getting tagged? Come check it out!
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Like what you read? Check out my masterlist to see if you find anything else!
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cur-sedd · 3 months
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𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵?₊˚⊹
UHM are yall okay?? 😭 the last time i checked i was at like 10 followers and now im at like 40?? Almost 40, its 39 as of posting this. THANK YOU GUYS??? Still shocked!! Also so sorry for not posting last week, i broke up with my bf so i decided to take a small break from everything in general <//3 I will try my best to post once a week though <33
MDNI!! NSFW CONTENT AFTER THE READ MORE!!
╰┈➤Vampire!Ot5, subby!kai, softdom(?)!taehyun, subby!soobin (?), not rlly sure for gyu and yeonjun sobs, mentions of biting here and there, blowjobs obvi, cumming eating/ swallowing cum. OH OMFG and inexperienced!Kai, and hair playing!! gn!reader. if i missed anything lmk!
You plop down onto the couch, snuggling up against your boyfriend, a nice popsicle to soothe your late night cravings. Opening up the wrapper you see your boyfriend eye you every now and then before going back to his phone. One arm wrapped around you as happily had your popsicle, watching on your TV “Baby?” He mumbled, placing his phone down and turned to you. You respond with a small ‘hm’ eyes still glued to the TV. You felt him grab your hand and place it on his hard cock. Immediately, you whip your head to him, shock filled your eyes as you mutter his name. “Can you suck me like that popsicle..please?” 
Yeonjun✩ -you stared at him as he stuck his lower lip out - “that was so smooth” you laughed. - MOANS! Guys this man has the prettiest moans when you give him head fr -would bite his hands to not be too loud bc its late -fr though if he was not stifling those moans, your neighbors would give a noise complaint LMAO - would grab your hair to ground himself - he would defo push your head down on himself just to hear those cute gags its such a turn on for him -he would cum in your mouth and then force you to swallow
Soobin✩ -the look that you gave him, he was so shy abt it too LMAO -”never did i imagine you of all people would say that.” “its not my fault im horny.” -soft, staccato “ah, ah, ah” would leave this man’s lips and its like heaven - after every moan he would smile here and there, flashing those fangs oml -he isnt very loud in general but when you give him head its just another thing -binnie is like begging you to keep going -he would buck his hips up bc i feel like he is so sensitive!! -would ask if you could swirl your tongue around his pink tip - he defo would cum v messily like he would js pull out and cum all over your face KHSBGDHV
Beomgyu ✩ -you were more confused than shocked, thinking he misspoke -”what??” “i said please!” “please for what?” “Dont make me beg, i’ll get harder” LMAO - more grunts than moans, though when he does let a moan peep out, it sounds so subby? Like hello?? -melting under your mouth fr -i would say he isnt as loud as soobin but he isnt as quiet as Yeonjun either -okay but gyu would be so like? Switchy??? from like “little piece of shit, making me all horny and hot for no reason” to “thats it, fuck! Good job- FUCK! Do that again. Youre doing so good.” -The way he would look at you when you suck him off?? Its like so loving yall KASHBDGHV - He literally trying his best to hold himself together but the longer yall go the more is just much more whiner.  -”gonna cum and your gonna swallow no matter what.” -YALL HE WOULD CUM INTO UR MOUTH AND THEN LIKE FORCE YOU TO PUT UR TONGUE OUT TO VERIFY YOU SWALLOWED AHHH -got hard again bc he thought of yall fucking and him like biting and licking the fresh bite -someone jail me, my vampire!beomgyu is feral Taehyun✩ -Taehyun is much more unexpected than Soobin tbh. I feel like he would js say it out of nowhere catching you off guard -”im? Was a popsicle all it took?” “i guess so bc im hard now so i mean its a win win” -he is so quiet like tyun sir please -on top of that its more like fucking WHIMPERS -You would look up every now and then js to see if like he is okay, or if he is liking it. -ofc the silly noticed and he would caress your hair to show you he alright -very soft tbh! Soft and loving, its so cute JKHDGJHG -would you reward you with v rough sex later though with biting bc other than sitting there and looking pretty, his teeth have OTHER USES!! -he’ll end up pulling out and cumming on your shirt bc he wanted to take a shower before fucking you ruthless -maybe if he is extra eager he’ll ask you to join him in the shower and fuck you there hehe
Huening Kai ✩ -BIG DICK KAI BIG DICK KAI BIG DICK KAI! -tbh i feel like you sort of expected this from kai but not THAT quick.  -if soobin was shy, kai was shy-er  -”but but you dont have to do it im- fuck im sorry-” “no- kai, baby its okay!! Why are you stressing?” “Your pretty mouth is gonna suck me off, who wouldnt be stressed in that situation?” -LOUDD he is so loud - and poor bby he is trying so hard to be quiet too -mumbles shit like “nngh! I cant i cant.. No please keep going.” “feels so good!” -i feel like he would struggle to talk while getting head -would bite his shirt to try and quiet himself down -that only make him louder so he resorted to his hand -with his free hand though he is playing with your hair, holding your head down while he bucked his hips up -also very sensitive !! stop i love him sm aughh AND INEXPERIENCED!! -he would normally cum outside of ur mouth but if its very special or he is js extra horny he’ll cum inside without any warning whatsoever LMFAOO
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(a/n: also i forgot to thank my mooties for reblogging my stuff, i love yall hehe. This doesnt rlly make sense in the vampire aspect but it does in my world bc 1) this whole thing was a dream i had and 2) i have my own vampire world for my silly autistic hyperfixation saurr 😭 i didnt want to write anything too gorey)
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h3llenwrites · 1 month
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Hi hi! Hope your having a nice day
How about our favorite radio host with a reader who owns a newspaper company in hell. They were a reporter when they were alive. They are investigating some of Vox's business and ends up running into Alastor?
Surprisingly I got enough motivation to write again so eat up
Alastor x Reader :
Platonic? Romantic? idk tbh. Just reader and Alastor working together to mess with Vox.
As someone who shares the latest news in hell, owning a newspaper company and all, you couldn't help but peep into the Vee's business. Something about them ultimately seemed unnerving, so naturally, every so often you would be prying at any information and bringing it back to your collection immediately. You often noticed Vox "convincing" his little crowd that gathers everytime he would step out of the comforts of his office, Running the other way when he starts to walk to your direction. Sometimes you would get caught writing your gathered info in the little journal you carry around with you, but you always put it away before Vox sees; Not like he could understand the handwriting anyway. (LISTEN HAVING TO WRITE DOWN A LOT OF INFO IN MERE SECONDS BEFORE HAVING TO BOOK IT FROM THE SOURCE IS GONNA GET YOU BAD HANDWRITING) When these occurences happen, you were lucky enough that he didn't think much of it, even though he noticed you a few steps behind the audience who were so glad to see him often.
You were collecting more information a few days after the last attempt where Big Ol' TV Man actually understood your handwriting and is now VERY wary of your presence. It didn't help that there were cameras everywhere either, you can barely avoid his watching gaze and it frustrated you that you hadn't been able to get anything from Vox or the other Vees since he probably warned them about your watching eye. Alastor was taking a stroll around hell heading to cannibal town, but ever so often pissing off Vox by destroying his cameras or glitching them and disconnecting the TVs that displayed on the stores. Luckily for you, the Radio Demon was headed your way and before Vox could check if you were peeping on him, Alastor had made his way in front of the camera and broke it. Vox cursed in his seat, choosing to get out either way so he can have a 'lovely talk' with the red deer. The commotion got more lively once Vox had stepped out. You smiled to yourself, getting your pen, paper, and camera ready. He did something quite unexpected today. Instead of standing there and giving off his usual speech, he quickly said some promotional shit and let off a light that would distract his crowd and he ran off, searching for the deer and cursing when Alastor was no where in sight. He was so distracted by getting revenge on his little enemy that he hadn't paid you any mind and dismissed the fact that he should've checked if you were present first. Naturally, you were overexcited. I mean you just got some worthy ass information about Vox, so naturally, you ran back to your work place as fast as you could. On the way there, you bumped into Alastor.. oh unfortunate soul. You were hurrying quite quickly, causing the both of you to fall on the dirty pavement below. You were processing what just happened, still a bit dizzy but you already picking up your items that you've dropped. You didn't think of the other person until you were done caring for yourself and suddenly you heard the sound of radio static. You gulped and hoped for the best, but of course, who else could it be? The moment you looked up, your eyes were met with Alastor's. Was he pissed? Please please.. "My apologies.. I uh-" You were quickly cut off by his cheery voice. "Nonsense, Darling! Say, Why are you in such a rush?" He noticed you earlier, seems you piqued his interest. "Um, Well I was just.. doing some research..?" He lifted his eyebrow, wide grin still present as always. "Hmm? Doing some research hiding behind a building?"
"Well I-" He picked up a paper you'd left, or rather used his abilities to make it appear in his hand. "Information on Vox Tech," He read the title on your paper aloud. "Oh! That's mine! haha.." You quickly grabbed it from his hands and stuffed it in your notebook. "It was.. lovely meeting you Mr. Uh.. Radio Demon..!" "Alastor." "Alastor! Right! ..I'd better get going." You quickly walked away, retreating to your place of comfort. He stared at you before continuing to make his way to Cannibal Town. A few days later, you still couldn't get Vox to come out, So you looked for something else to investigate on for a bit before returning. You were looking at some posters around hell when the 'Pointless Happy Hotel' or so was said, caught your attention. The Princess of Hell's beliefs for redemption was intriguing to you, so you grabbed a pen, a notebook and a camera, then headed to the hill where this hotel was located, having absolutely no idea the Radio Demon was there. After a few minutes of constantly avoiding violent sinners trying to behead anyone who passes by, Several explosions and Horny demons, You were at the front door. You cleaned yourself off and knocked. Charlie opened the door, a very bright smile on her face. "Hello! Welcomee~ To the Hazbin Hotel!~" She said in a sing-song voice. "Hi!-" You could barely speak before getting cut off by getting dragged into the lobby. "This is the lobby! That's the bar, the bartender over there is Husk. That's Niffty, she's our housekeeper! Oh! And that is.." The Princess ranted about the hotel, introducing you to the staff, patrons and giving you a tour. You kept trying to interrupt her, saying that you were only going to be staying for a few days maybe weeks for some research for your newspaper, You didn't get a chance to tell her until she reached Alastor's room to introduce you to him. "Actually, I'll only be staying for research to put on my newspaper.. Is that alright?" Charlie blinked before smiling again. "Oh! That's alright! Still glad for you to be staying here! Anyway, Let me introduce you to my.. Business partner I guess you could say?.." You tilted your head in confusion before she knocked and a shadow formed into the Radio Demon. You froze. "This is Alastor!" He turned his attention to you. "Ah, Yes. Pleasure to be meeting you, dear! Quite the pleasure. How is that research project on the Vees of yours going?" You nervously chuckled before answering him. "Quite alright, I suppose! Although.. I decided to investigate on something new since there had been no progress in the past week."
"I see! And what is this new project of yours about?"
"The hotel.."
"Hm! Well, I can certainly help with your research!"
"Research? Which one?"
"Why, both of course!"
"And why.. are you telling me this?" Alastor's grin grew wider. "Oh nothing, really. The topic of your little project just intrigued me is all!"
You accepted his help of course. The both of you work together to document the things you've gathered. He's honestly just helping out for fun. The relationship between the two of you grows (You can think of it as Platonic or Romantic, Idk I don't judge) and he sometimes has you with him, broadcasting the latest news, seated next to him while reading from your newspaper in his Radio Tower. He also often visits you while you're producing new info to feed the public. His favorite part of helping you gather info about the Vees is destroying Vox's cameras :)
A/N: This.. is sort of shorter than I intended it to be. I lost my ideas halfway through writing this because I thought of Alastor with a reader who has a bakery and he visits often or Alastor with wife reader who owns a bakery and she brings him baked goods. Should I write that?
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romiantic · 9 months
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SPIDER SIS !
→ READING: older sister!black!reader
→ GENRE + WARNINGS: fluff + the n word is said
→ A/N: not to be confused, 1610!miles will be in red and 42!miles/miles g will be in purple. also y/n will perceive to be around my age, so 17-19 years old at the time of this writing !
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— being the eldest sibling/older sister is quite…chaotic. from the birth of your baby brothers to now, you’ve never known peace cause it’s always something with one of the two. miles g is arguing it’s you over the tv remote or miles is lost in his math homework
— cause of his smart mouth and pettiness, arguments with miles g would be a daily thing. from sun up to sun down this boy will find the most minuscule thing to argue with you about. one time he blamed you for missing his favorite show like it wasn’t 100% his fault….
— whenever you and miles g are arguing, miles would stay out of it and hang out with his parents. he never takes sides, since he loves you both equally, but he does try to hear both sides of the story. sometimes he’ll try to play peacemaker but it just….rarely works
— this nigga miles g is such a snitch omg. he wouldn’t snitch on miles often but you, he running to the nearest parent. majority of the time, you would have to bribe him to not saying nothing
— even through the chaos, it’s a loving essence with the two. through the fights and arguing, they both have deep love for their older sister, they wouldn’t trade you for the world. also, these two are veryyyy overprotective over you, sometimes too much
— anybody talk shit about any of you three is gonna get hit or flat out cussed out by you or miles g. especially miles g, he doesn’t play those games about his siblings and will buck at anybody, friend or foe, he don’t care
— if you have a crush on someone, please don’t tell either miles cause miles is gonna tell miles g and miles g will find their entire identity like he works for the CIA. don’t let it be a boy either cause miles g will watch that boy with daggers in his eyes
— the boys have put a lot of their trust in you! they feel like they can tell you anything and almost any secret, unless it’s too embarrassing
— when it’s not chaotic in the morales household, you guys are usually chillin in the living room either watching tv or doing your own thing. if anime is playing on the tv, all three of you subconsciously hop on the couch and watch it together
— watching anime together is one of the times you love hanging out with your brother the most. all three of you are huge anime nerds (the worst is miles g), so sitting around the couch to start a new anime or catch up on an old one is quite fun and peaceful. also, anime is a frequent conversation, a lot of debates happen and one too many spoilers from miles
— when you were younger, you used to help your mom wash the boys hair. if your dad was at work, which he more than likely was, your mom would ask to help wash and style one of the boys hair while she did the other. it was fun watching the toddler miles splashing water and throwing bath toys at each other
— miles g loves stealing your food and doesn’t give a single damn about it. if you doordash some food, don’t let miles g peep it or grab it for you cause he will steal something. you know what’s funny? he’ll steal your food and judge you for the food you bought like it was his money spent on it….
“why am I missing three tenders? there’s supposed to be eight”
“yeah n/n, that shit was dry as fuck. don’t order from that restaurant again”
“nigga- did YOU buy it?”
“I’m just sayin that I wouldn’t waste my money on no shit like that”
— all three of you have the most ridiculous nicknames for each other and it would be something that happened in y’all childhood. y’all even have code names if y’all talkin shit about each other
— the sibling group chat would go crazyyyy, but not all the time. usually it’s tiktoks, y’all talkin shit, or some fight video that happen in school. more than likely miles g was instigating the fight
— for miles + miles g 19th birthday, y’all got matching spider tattoos and miles g got a matching nose piercing with you !
— when the boys were first born, they had their ears pierced and y’all parents would try to get matching earrings for the three of you. but majority of the time it wouldn’t work cause miles g refused to wear small hoops or a pink earring, even if it was sorta boy-ish
— miles g was the first to learn cuss words in Spanish, so he would teach miles about it. miles was clueless and didn’t know about they were bad words until rio popped his hand and punished him about it. poor miles :(
— when it comes to relationships, the boys always run to you before running to your mom. they would describe the girl and ask if you know her. if not, you would find her info and become a wingman for your baby bros
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⭑ another long set of hcs, sigh
⭑ was this me mostly projecting being the oldest/big sister ? maybe !
⭑ lemme know if y’all want a part 2 cause I have so much to say for big sister reader 🤭
𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐏 💗: Psalm 100:5
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SPIDERMAN: ATSV MASTERLIST + MAIN MASTERLIST
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© 𝟤𝟢𝟤𝟥 𝗉𝗇𝗄𝗐𝖾𝖻. 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗏𝖾𝖽
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onginlove · 8 months
Text
a call for help
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pairing: 1610!miles x villian!gn!reader
everyone of all races and genders can read
summary: a unexpected surprise comes when the person you hate comes knocking at your door.
warnings: none, slight mentions of death ( if you squint)
a/n: im so sorry for not posting any fics in a long time. im very proud of this one! please tell me if you want a part 2 because I might make it 🤭
reblogs and likes are appreciated ❤️
masterlist | not taking requests
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you were in your living room, watching (f/m) for about the 5th time in a row. you haven’t encountered spiderman in a while which is crazy because he was always following you trying to fight you.
you always headed home with bruises and wounds with sometimes deep cuts. you and spiderman always had big, heated fights that always ended in someone almost dying, almost.
when it reached the good part of the movie, you heard a knock at the door. you weren’t expecting any company and everyone you knew was already sleeping at this time.
as you took slow, quiet steps to the door, you picked up a bat for safety reasons because you have been in contact with some people’s bad side.
you looked through the peep-hole of your door but you couldn’t see anything much as it was currently raining with very black clouds.
you quickly unlocked and opened the door, position the bat into a swing position until you saw who was at the door.
“spiderman..?” your eyes grew bigger in shock with how he was even able to find you.
“how… did you find me?”
“i put a tracker on you.” he said, holding his waist as if he is injured.
once you noticed that his arm was holding his waist, you continued to look around his body, seeing many cuts, blood spots, what looks like deep wounds, and some very bad scrapes.
“i got into this fight with someone powerful and uh, im very beaten up and didnt know where else to go.”
you lowered you bat and dropped it on the floor with loud clanking sounds followed with it. 
“i..”
he lost his balance and started falling forwards towards you. you quickly caught him and stared at him for a minute.
i can’t just leave him like this.. 
you attempted to carry him and place him on your couch, lowering him down as slowly as possible, trying not to make him hurt anymore.
i shouldn’t be helping him…
you went to your bathroom to find a first-aid and quickly went back to the living room the help out spiderman.
you took alcohol and a cotton ball and dabbed some on his wounds, which led him to make a slight movement. you took gauze and wrapped up his wound after words and took bandages for his small cuts.
you saw that there was some rips in his mask which meant you would have to take it off and see his face. with hesitation, you took the hem of his mask and lifted it up to see miles morales, someone you’ve known from brooklyn vision academy.
oh no… no no no.
you quickly put the bandages on his face and pulled back down his mask, wishing you’ve never seen that. you turned off the tv and saw that he looked like he was asleep. you grabbed a blanket for him and turned off the living room light.
you headed for your room and went under you covers, positioning yourself for comfort to go to sleep.
hopefully, tomorrow won’t be so bad and he will forget this ever happened...
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