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starry-bi-sky · 19 days

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Stuck in the middle of a forest made of

Flesh and bones and they're all scared of

A lost little boy who has lost his heart

Fear's not enough, they have to

Tear him apart —-------

There are two things Daniel Fenton knows that his family knows as well:

He’s adopted.

He can’t remember anything else before that.

‘Adoption’ is a loose term, implying that they went through the official legal processes and troubles of adopting a child into their home willingly, and with the full intention of doing so going into it. That is not what happened. What happened is that Jasmine Fenton found a half-dead child, in strange clothing, in the middle of the woods at her Aunt Alicia’s cabin, and then she went and got her parents.

What happened is that a twelve year old Danny woke up in the same cabin, wearing clothes much too big on him that didn’t belong to him, and with very little memory of before that moment. He wakes up like a spring being set loose, sitting up so fast he scares the daylights out of Jasmine Fenton sitting next to him. He wakes up, reaching for his sleeve for something that isn’t there, and when it isn’t his mind stutters, like he’s tripped at the top of a steep hill.

When they ask him for his name, he tells them, clearing muddled thoughts from his mind; Danny. He’s twelve.

(He thinks that’s his name, at least. It sounds right; it feels right. If he thinks really hard about it, he thinks he can remember someone calling him that, utter adoration in their voice. So it must be his name.)

The Jasmine girl convinces her parents to take him home with them, and they give him the spare guest room upstairs. He has nothing to fill it with.

It’s… a strange experience, to go to a ‘new’ home when he doesn’t even remember his old one.

The official adoption process… happens. He can’t say it’s easy, or difficult. He’s oblivious for the most of it, Jasmine intends on helping him settle in and Danny can’t say he enjoys the smothering. He learns that he is stubbornly self-independent, that’s one new thing he knows about himself.

His adoption papers say ‘Daniel J. Fenton’. Danny remembers staring at the name ‘Daniel’ for a long, long moment, something curdling sour in his sternum. His name is Danny, that he knows. But it’s not Daniel. But he doesn’t know any other way of saying it, so he keeps his complaints to himself.

(Jack Fenton boisterously claps his hand on Danny’s shoulder and jerks him around, grinning wide as he welcomes him into the Fenton Family. Danny’s mind blanches at the touch on his shoulder, an instinct snapping like the maw of a snake, telling him to cut off the man’s fingers for daring to touch him.)

(He keeps the thought to himself, tension rising up his shoulders the longer Jack Fenton’s heavy hand stays on him.)

They found Danny in the summer. It’s a perfect coincidence, Maddie Fenton says before she goes back into her lab with Jack Fenton. She says it’s enough time to allow Danny to adjust; that they’ll enroll him into the school year in the fall. Then she stuffs a canister of ectoplasm onto the top shelf, and disappears like the ghosts she studies back down the stairs.

(There’s something eerily familiar about the ectoplasm sitting in the fridge, something unsettlingly so. Danny knows what that stuff is, but he doesn’t know where. When the house is empty, he takes a can from the fridge and inspects it.)

Jazz wants him to leave the house. Danny doesn’t want to step foot outside of the FentonWorks building until he has something that quells the feeling of vulnerability he gets whenever he does. He tried to once, and he felt exposed. Unsafe.

He turned back around and went inside.

—-------

Where do we go

When the river's running slow

Where do we run

When the cats kill one by one

—------

One day, when the house is empty — or, as empty as it can be; the Fenton parents down in the lab, and jazz out with friends. Danny is making a sandwich, and he caves into the urge to flip the knife in his hands between his fingers. A childish impulse, but one he falls for nonetheless. It comes to him easily, like second nature, in fact. The slip of the blade between his fingers is seamless, flowing with an ease like water running down the wall.

He’s almost startled by it; his body holds memories that his mind does not. Muscles that know which way to move and twist, limbs that know how to hold and how to throw. He continues twirling it, fascinated, as if he were a scientist discovering a new species of animal.

It’s not for a handful of minutes when a new thought hits him; an impulsive thought that pops in the back of his mind like a firecracker; Danny moves without thinking.

He turns, and throws the knife. The pull of his shoulder, the flick of his elbow, is familiar like a hug. He knows when to let go, and the blade flies through the air in impressive speed, embedding itself into the wall with a hearty, loud thunk. Sinking into the drywall like butter.

Danny stares at it in shock, he feels relieved — about what? — before he feels the guilt. He scrambles across the kitchen to pull it out, heart racing in his chest at being caught, and prays no one notices the hole it left behind.

(He runs up the stairs before anyone can find him, food forgotten, and hides the knife beneath his mattress like a guilty murder weapon.)

After that, he leaves the house more. It’s more out of fear of being caught than the desire to leave. But Danny is quickly learning that among all things, he is someone who was dangerous, before he lost his memory. Even with his mind in fractures, he is still dangerous.

He’s not sure how to feel about that — he thinks he should be scared. He feels a little proud, instead.

—------

Hazel beneath our claws

While we wait for cerulean to cry

Unsettled ticks run through time

Enough for the hunt to go awry

—-----

There’s another thing he learns about himself. That he knows about since he woke up. He knows that he left someone behind. He doesn’t know who, but he knows they must have been close; he’s always looking down and finding himself surprised when the only shadow he sees is his own.

He thinks that he must have sung to them a lot; he finds himself humming familiar melodies when he’s lost in thought. Lullabies lingering at the tip of his tongue, an instinct to turn and sing them to someone beside him. He can’t remember the lyrics, but his mouth does, it tries to get him to say them when he’s not thinking. He can’t.

Danny’s found himself humming under his breath more times than he can count, trying to recall whatever it is his mind is trying to claw forward.

(“That’s a pretty song, Danny.” Jazz tells him at breakfast one day, Danny screws his mouth shut. He hadn’t realized he was humming. “What is it?”)

(Something mean and possessive rears its head on instinct, uncoiling like a snake from its ball. His shoulders hunch defensively, he bites his cheek to prevent himself from baring his teeth. He doesn’t know what song it is, but it’s not for her. “I don’t know.”)

He misses his person. Dearly. He knows, the longer he is without them, that they must have been close. Otherwise, he wouldn’t feel like he’s missing a chunk from himself. He wouldn’t be turning to someone who's not there; reaching for a hand that’s missing, birdsong on his tongue, a story to tell.

A dream haunts him one night. Warm and familiar, he’s holding onto someone smaller than him, they’re tucked into his side like a puzzle piece. He’s humming one of his songs that is always playing in the back of his mind, an unfinished tale of a harpy and a hare. Danny can’t remember their face, not all of it. He remembers green eyes, hair dark like his own, skin brown like his.

He loves them more than anything else in the world, a fact he knows down to his soul. He loves them so much it fills his heart with sunlight. Danny squeezes them tight, nuzzling into their hair; he makes them laugh. Then, he proudly boasts something. That when he takes something of their father’s, that his person — a sibling? That feels right — will be… the word fades from Danny’s mind before he can make sense of it.

His person hugs him tight, his… brother? And their mother — a woman whose face he can’t remember either, but who he loves like a limb nonetheless — appears, smiling. Her hands reach for them both, voice calling them, ‘her sons’. There’s ticking in the distance, it sounds like the fastening of chains.

Danny wakes up cold, tears streaming down his face. The details of the dream already fading from his mind like the cold pull of a corpse.

—-------

Harpy hare

Where have you buried all your children?

Tell me so I say

—-------

When school starts that Fall, Danny joins the sixth grade class, and quickly learns more things about himself. One of those things being that he’s smarter than the rest of his grade, whatever education he had before, it was better than the one he’s getting now.

Everyone knows he’s adopted right off the bat. He tells them when the teacher forces himself to introduce himself, but it’s not like they needed him to tell them for them to know; he never existed in their little world before now, and the Fentons are pale as they come. Danny is not.

He befriends Sam Manson and Tucker Foley; they ask him about the scars fading up and down his arms, they ask him about the scar carved diagonal across his face.

Danny, as politely as he can, tells them he doesn’t remember. He thought kindness would come second nature to him, his dream burned into his mind where he hugged his brother so sweetly. Apparently, his sweetness is only second nature to people he considers his own.

(It becomes even more apparent when Dash Baxter tries to bully him later that day, and Danny ruffles like an eagle threatened. His mind whispers, hissy and agitated, sinking like a shadow at his shoulder, several different ways Danny could kill him for talking to him like that, and fifteen more ways he could cripple him.)

(Danny ignores those thoughts, up until Dash Baxter tries to grab him. Then he breaks his nose on the wood of his desk. It’s easy how quickly the rest of his grade sinks him down to the status of social pariah.)

(At least Sam and Tucker still talk to him after that. When Danny goes to the principal’s office later, he wisely doesn’t mention the worse things he could’ve done than break Dash Baxter’s nose.)

—--------------

It clicks and it clatters in corners and borders

And they will never

Hear me here listen to croons and a calling

I'll tell them all the

Story, the sun, and the swallow, her sorrow

Singing me the tale of the Harpy and the Hare

—-------

More dreams come, of course they do. Each one halfway to forgotten whenever he wakes up, ticking faint in his ears. He is many different ages. He is young, shorter than a table. He is older, holding onto his little brother. He is singing in almost every single one. He is singing to his brother.

Danny can barely remember the lyrics, he’s begun leaving a journal by his bedside so that it’s the first thing he can write down when he wakes up. He’s a storyteller, he learns. He feels like a historian, trying to piece together a culture long dead and forgotten.

His most vivid dream-like memory is not a happy one, and for once he’s almost relieved he barely recalls it. He is somewhere that isn’t home, but his mother and brother are there. He is dressed in black, blades keen in his hands.

They are atop a moving train. They are fleeing something. His brother is struggling to keep up, he is small, and young. It’s beautifully sunny, they are somewhere green and lovely.

It is a fast dream.

His brother stumbles on something, and Danny, fast as a whip, snatches him by the back of his shirt and hoists him up to his feet before he can fall. “Watch your feet, habibi.” He murmurs low, a hand on his back. It’s hard to hear, there is wind in their ears.

His brother, face obscured in all but his eyes, which are green as emeralds, nods.

The dream blurs, but Danny falls behind. His foot catches on air — impossible, it should’ve been, at least. He never trips. — and he lands against the roof with a thud and a grunt. His mother and brother stop, and turn for him.

The train hits a turn before Danny can get up, and he shouldn’t have, something pulls on him, he swears, but he slips. He can’t find the purchase to pull himself up, cold fear hits him as his nails scrape against the metal.

His mother and brother’s horrified faces are the last thing he sees before he disappears off the side of the train.

(The ticking is at its loudest when he wakes up, pounding against his inner skull. He only manages to write down ‘train fall’ in his journal, before he’s flipping over to press his head into his pillow to get the pain to stop.)

—---

She can't keep them all safe

They will die and be afraid

Mother, tell me so I say

(Mother, tell me so I say)

—-------

When Danny is fourteen he is still humming songs he can’t remember, his mind still in a broken puzzle. But his room is now decorated with stars and plants in every corner. He has a guitar he keeps in the corner of his room, and he plays the lullabies in his head on the strings over and over again.

The ectoplasm in the fridge still unsettles him, still reminds him of a past he can’t recall. The knife beneath his mattress has returned to the kitchen — he doesn’t need it. He found a box in the attic last year, it had his name on it, and inside he found familiar, strange clothes, and more weapons than he thought was possible to carry on one person.

(Even without knowing that the Fentons prefer guns to blades, Danny knows, instinctively, that they were his weapons. He was — was? Is — a dangerous person. He takes the box down to his room to sort through. The weapons all fit into his callused hands almost perfectly — the grooves worn to fit his palm. They’re just a little small.)

(He tentatively takes a small blade with him to school one day, and feels much more comfortable with it sheathed beneath his shirt. He’s kept it on him ever since, like he’s reunited a lost limb to himself.)

Danny doesn’t have a name for his person, his little brother, nor does he have a name for his beloved mother. He’s haunted by dreams every few weeks, many of them repeating. He’s ingrained the words he can remember to memory, and the ones he doesn’t, he writes down in his journal. His little brother; Danny calls him a bird, he can’t figure out what kind. His little bird of some kind; when Danny takes something from their father — what, he can’t remember what — then his little brother will be a little bird.

(He doesn’t have a name for his brother, yet, but he’s calling his birdie in his head. It’s better than nothing.)

—------

Seeker, do you ever come to wonder

If what you're looking for is within where you hold

Will you leave a trail for them to follow a path

You'll soon forget

Home

—---------

When he’s fourteen, Danny dies. It does nothing to fix his fractured memories, much to his consternation. It just confirms something he already knows; that he was someone dangerous, and that he still is.

When the shock of death has worn off, Danny inspects his ghost in the metal reflection of the closest table. It’s blurry, hard to see, but shock green eyes pierce back at him, green like the portal. Lazarus, Danny’s mind whispers, and he blinks rapidly.

‘Lazarus,’ he mouths to himself. It’s familiar. Sam shows him with her phone what he looks like, joking that he looks like an assassin. Danny doesn’t think she’s that too far off.

He doesn’t tell her that. He tucks the thought away with the rest of his secrets, and fiddles with the hood gathering at his neck, attached to a cape with torn edges swinging down to his ankles. He pulls it over his shock white hair. It shadows over his face impossibly so, until all you can see are his green-green eyes peering out like a wolf hiding in the brush.

He ends up calling himself Phantom.

(Maybe now he can start putting lyrics to his lullabies; his memories may not have returned, locked away with the sound of a clock, but the dead can talk. One of them may just have answers.)

----------

Home is where we are

Home is where you are

Home is where I am

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

Dedicated to @gascansposts for being the one who introduced me to the band Yaelokre, and thus being the whole reason I was inspired to write this in the first place >:] Those lyrics at the line breaks are all from their album Hayfields.

#dpxdc #dp x dc #danny fenton is not the ghost king #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc crossover #dpdc #danyal al ghul au #amnesiac danyal al ghul au #songs in order of the album: the hartebeest / harpy hare / and the hound / neath the grove is a heart #musician danny has my heart and soul #yes this danyal IS an alternative danny from the other au. an au where things were a little better :) but still sucks #implied good mom talia al ghul #danyal is a momma's boy send tweet #dpxdc ficlet #dpxdc prompts #dp x dc au #dp x dc fanfic #danyal is sTILL five years older than damian in this au #no beta no edits we die like danny fenton #poc danny fentons #i didnt know where to end this :(( i was gonna go on but i blanked. i thought about going into his relationships with his rogues and so on.#but that felt too much like trying to just increase the word count rather than actually writing?? if that makes sense #ugh im gonna have forgotten to include things and im gonna be kicking myself later #morally ambiguous danny whoo! we love to see it #since this was just for fun it doesnt really go into it all that much other than like. it happens. and that danny realizes he's dangerous #phantom in a hazmat suit? nah phantom looking like an assassin >:].#danyal al ghul with damian and his mom: 🥰🌸✨#danyal al ghul with everyone else: 👹🔪#am i heavily implying that clockwork had smth to do with Danyal’s amnesia and appearance by the cabin? 👀 maybe #not enough danyal al ghul aus where him being an assassin actually. has some kind of affect on him

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digimonirl · 1 month

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Now that the que is cleared I'm making Lady take a break for a few days. She got sick and she's not going to take a break unless I make her. In the meantime, any asks will be answered infrequently and by yours truly <|>:)

#digiirl #digimon #unreality #digimon rp #felt speaks #the lady behind Lady got vaccinated today and whoo boy #she aint doin good

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jackienautism · 9 months

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#it’s def just cause i’m tired but. whoo boy #felt super odd and off after that LMAO #think i just need to sleepies #hope everyone else is having a good night / day #Do You Ever Just Wish You Were Normal #mine #misc #misc tag

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nichoskittycorner · 6 months

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Whoo- Finally getting to pt 2 to this:

So... a random drabble thing I wrote. Like you know that trope about adopting a pet and it shifts into a hot person? Yeah it's like that except it's a werewolf and a wolf plush. This isnt complete and only like a lil nsfw but yeah-

Part 1

>> Not proofread, gen!reader×male werewolf, 18+ typical werewolf sex things

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

As the werewolf in your bed continued to caress your skin, your mind was flooded with thoughts. Too many and too wild to focus on a single one.

It was only when the hot and rough tongue of the wolf grazed your bare shoulder skin did you come back to reality.

As you tried to formulate words, the rest of your clothes quickly came off. The wolf you had unknowingly in your care for quite some time changed your position so you were on your back.

Spreading your legs apart and resting his snout on your tummy. Your hands hesitantly rested on his fluffy and massive head. His eyes closed and you could already see his tail wagging.

"W-wait. I dont get it-"

A deep chuckle left him before his long tongue licked from your navel up to your neck, sending chills all over your body. "You dont need to get it. Just let me thank you."

Whether you wanted this thanks didnt matter, his head was once again nestled between your legs. This time finding your hole and teasing your entrance.

Swirling it in tight circles before poking inside. Your back arched as he pushed his tongue in deeper, tasting you as best as he could. Flicking and thrusting his large tongue against your walls before adding one of his thick fingers inside.

Stretching you out with slow loving strokes, alternating between his tongue and fingers. Adding another digit until you were prepared to take his cock. He was admittedly excited, not only from your beautiful moans and the swirling of your hips but everything really.

He had been dreaming of the day he'd be able to take in your delicious scent with his wolf nose and fuck you properly on his dick. Filling you up and claiming you as his as you both melted into bliss in his strong embrace.

His body felt strained and trapped in that plush form, especially after so long. So once you had managed to break the spell, he was sure you were the one. His destiny, his love, his mate. And he was beyond ready to show it.

Once he felt you loosen up around his thick fingers, he pulled them out of your hole. A drawn out moan escaping your lips as he licked one of your nipples to tease. Licking up until he was at your neck and suckled on the tender flesh.

Nibbling down with his teeth carefully, but still leaving his mark on your skin. His warm body pressing into yours as he stroked your hair with his free hand.

"Are you ready my mate?" You could only nod eagerly and kiss his snout. He sat back and presented his cock between your legs. It was thick, long and begging for you.

His tip pressed against your entrance, and with a swift movement, he was inside of you. Even with the prep, he was still huge and stretched you out. Almost breaking you in half and making a tear slip from your eye.

"Shh, just hold on my little mate. You'll feel good very soon." He whispered sweetly as he pushed his hips a little more, filling you up little by little.

Once you were stuffed full of his wolf cock, you could finally start to ease up. He reached further than you could've ever expected and his slow movements were much appreciated until you were ready.

It took every ounce of self control he had to not just fuck you wildy, abusing your hole and body to his feral heart's content. He kissed up your neck slowly, dragging his tongue with careful precision. Maybe if he stayed slow, he could keep his control.

But with the moans that kept leaking from your mouth, your hands tangled into his fur and pulling, your chest pushed flush into his- Oh it was too much.

You could feel him holding back. His shoulders tense as he moved painfully slow in and out of your hole. He was determined not to hurt his love, even if his body didnt care.

It was such a sweet gesture, you pulled him into a kiss and started grinding your hips. Encouraging him to not hold back so much anymore. You were ready for him to let loose.

He groaned against your lips, not quite convinced you were ready yet. "Come on, please! I need you, give me all of you please-"

A low but powerful growl rumbled throughout his chest as his claws dug into your hips. Barely piercing the skin, not enough for blood but leaving imprints for sure.

You didnt have time to dwell on it though, as he started to jerk his hips harshly into you. His pace inhuman and the power of his thrust was breathtaking. Unable to hold back, a loud cry of pleasure escaped your lips as your eyes shut.

Tears of pleasure quickly took over as he continued to pound into you, burying his cock into your walls over and over again. Stretching you out and sending shockwaves throughout your body.

Drool leaking from his loose hanging tongue landed onto your chest and face. His mind already too drunk on your body to wish to stop. Even as his hot cum shot out and filled you up, he needed more.

He needed to ravish your body until all you could think about was him, until his cum flowed from your throughly bred body like a river. Until he knotted you up and claimed you as his so his scent would never leave your skin.

On and on, orgasm after orgasm, he continued to fuck your smaller human body. Oh how foolish he was to have thought you were frail and easily breakable. But you persist, begging for of him more even as your stomach swells up with his seed and your eyes roll back from the intense pleasure.

Soon he starts to feel it- his knot begins to swell up as he continues to beat up your swollen cum filled hole. He nips at your nipple once again, causing your sensitive body to squirm.

"One more for me mate, have to knot you up." From what little you could still process, you nodded anyway. You werent 100% sure what a knot was but from the growing feeling you felt slipping in and out of you, you're sure youd love it.

" Yes yes please! Knot me please!" You plead through breathy moans and pants. And of course, it sends him over the edge. Pushing his cock harshly into you several more times before settling deep into your body.

His knot grew to completion, securing you both tightly as he filled you with another load of cum. He shook widely and howled as his mind went blank. Your own orgasm making stars flash into your vision as you came.

Body quaking and holding onto your fluffy partner with everything you had. Grounding yourself as the pleasure drowned your mind. Nothing else mattered but how amazing you both felt.

Coming down from such a high felt almost unreal. Your body stung from how on edge your nerves were as your vision started to clear and you caught your breath.

Your wolfy partner... who probably had a name other than Muffin, was resting on you. Flopping his whole weight on you and hugging you, tracing soft circles into your skin. Licking your cheeks, face, and parts of your hair to comfort you.

His touch was so gentle in comparison to how roughly he had fucked you earlier. Even with his knot still resting inside you. He purred lowley, the sound soothing you even further.

Your hand lazily pet his fur, as you tried to put your mind back together fully. But it could wait. This was too blissful to ruin with thinking.

"You're mine, right my love?" He spoke softly as his eyes started to flutter close, nose buried in your neck and taking in your scent.

"Yes. I'm yours."

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Whoo sorry that took so long! I kept having "my WIP list is a joke" syndrome but I'm glad I finally got to finish this! It was fun, who knows, I may write more things like this in the future :D

Taglist : @immortaljai @sunnyhokyu @jaiuneamesolitaiire

#werewolf x reader #werewolf lover #monster x human #monster lover #monsterfucker #monster fucker #monster kink #teratophillia #terato #werewolf #werewolf boyfriend

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sanjisblackasswife · 10 months

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𝔾𝕠𝕛𝕠 𝕒𝕤 𝕐𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕊𝕦𝕘𝕒𝕣 𝔻𝕒𝕕𝕕𝕪

New series alert because i made all the jjk men hcs too long for one post lmao

Bad Summary: HC’s of JJK Men as your SD.

Cw: Mentions of sex, Petnames, Age differences off the wazoo(i.e. reader is around 19-22 and he is over 40)

SFW

Sugar Daddy Gojo treats you like his best friend with benefits

Him. He’s giving you all the benefits.

He was simply too hard to ignore

Coming to your cafe everyday ordering the same thing followed by a

“And your number.”

You were strong enough to resist, yes he was a handsome man but you never were the type to just give out your number to anybody. He was just a simple and flirtatious older customer you seen.

Gojo didnt take it lightly though, he was persistent.

Eventually he’d whoo you with small gifts and large tips, even when you happily declined he managed to get you to take it

He finally got you when he seen you off work. A small chat with him (with of course shameless stares at your body and lips) he convinced you for one small coffee date.

Then that led to him getting your number, then more expensive dates, more expensive gifts, and more princess treatment

You both went on a trip together and you clearly underestimated how rich this man was; private jet, owning WHOLE hotels on islands.

It was overwhelming to say the least but Gojo didnt mind. He loved to see the sparkle in your eyes when he took you to a new place you never been before.

He was pretty much your man at that point, he never had interest for any other women, which was hard to believe, sure he was in his 40s but he didnt look a day over 30. Not even eye bags. He reassured you you were his and only his.

He always takes you out to try to convince you to leave your job. It was a bit concerning how fast he was moving in the relationship, after expressing your concerns he did slow down. At least insisting you work at a different establishment near his place.

One he owned and the pay was twice as much.

Its almost overwhelming how he puts you at such a high priority in his life. It almost felt like your life became straight out of a fantasy.

He treats you as if you were made for him, he’s so gentle, so authoritative which was such a turn on. Him being so big and tall, always doing what your past boyfriends refused to do both out in public and in the bedroom

NSFW

Sex with Sugar Daddy Gojo was exciting.

He was always amped to do try new things like toys or even role play

His favorite; teacher and student of course.

He always buys you some of the skimpest lingerie, you always have to take as many pictures as you can because if he catches you wearing it he will in fact rip it off

Sex with SD Gojo is something you can’t even compare to

Sex with SD Gojo made you realize You were far from a virgin but laying with him made you feel like one, either the men you slept with were THAT bad or he was THAT good

Sex with SD Gojo always knew how to touch you, he knew how many fingers of his inside you can make your mouth fall slack

Sex with SD Gojo was fun and light hearted, he’d giggle at how sensitive your body BECAME after sex with him, peppering your body in kisses telling you how much youve improved on taking him in entirely

Honestly, there was no other man to fuck you better than he does

#TimikosGojo #black reader #jjk #jjk smut #gojo smut #gojo headcanons #jjk x black reader #jjk x poc!reader #gojo x black reader #jjk imagines #jjk x you #gojo fanfic #gojo satoru #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo saturo

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pandoraslxna · 11 days

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Sweet like Cherry — Chapter 5

Miles Quaritch x female scientist reader

Words: 6.3k

Summary: Miles has a secret admirer and apparently, she has a thing for photography.

Warnings: explicit smut, age gap, size difference, alcohol consumption, somehow all men are assholes in this chapter, taking advantage of a drunk reader, cat calling, spanking, rough oral (f receiving), jealousy, possessive behavior, minimal dub-con warning, gambling, biting, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, virgin reader, obsession, authority kink, power play, corruption kink

There's a good reason as to why you don’t talk about personal things with your coworkers.

The problem with most coworkers is, they either don’t know or don’t care about someone’s boundaries. They'll just do something like this because they think it’s a nice gesture, and you don’t understand the point when in reality, they just need another reason to get wasted on another saturday night.

Out of place didn’t even begin to cover the way you felt right now.

You knew parties could be fun and a good time for everyone. Not that you’ve been to many before. You just don’t want to be in the middle of this, can't stand the fact that all these people are clustered around, laughing and talking and celebrating you. It feels like a game of play pretend. You don’t even know half of these people that claim to be your friends. They’re not even coworkers, you think. A dozen of them you’ve never even seen before and you’re sure they don’t even work on the same floor as you.

Maggie is going to pay for this later, because she's the only one who could possibly have told them that it's your birthday, and you specifically told her you weren’t going to let her do anything for your birthday. But you should’ve known, the second she asked to do your make up, then stuffed you into this sinfully tight and entirely too short dress of hers because she convinced you it would be fun, and then coincidentally found a pair of heels to match the look.

You couldn’t actually be that stupid, could you? Obviously she had something planned for you, when she asked to spend the evening of your birthday with you for a coffee. Now that coffee turned out to be whatever liquor was filled into that plastic cup in your hand that was then downed with a loud, cheerful whoo of every women in the room because they convinced you that’s how it’s done at a party.

"Aren't you enjoying yourself even a litte?" Laura asks, looking a little like a puppy hoping for a treat as she watches you chew on the inside of your cheek, standing stiff like a rod in the far corner of the room. You’re almost a little disappointed in her, after you found out she helped planning all this. But you can’t be mad at her when she only means good. Apparently that’s what good cowork— friends. That’s what good friends are supposed to do for each other.

And even though you want to say no, you can't bring yourself to throw their kindness back in their faces. After all, they were the only ones that gave you a chance to prove that you could be more than just that nerd. That nerd that doesn’t even bother to make friends or go to parties, that nerd that doesn't even get invited to said parties because you’re no fun anyways.

You may have earned yourself that name, but it still stings to think too much about it. And maybe you don’t want to be that nerd forever. Maybe you want to let yourself enjoy this.

"Yes, I'm enjoying myself," you finally say, swallowing down a sigh.

"Then smile, and go dance with us!" Maggie nudges your side and you cringe at the thought of dancing in the center of the crowded room.

"Why?" You force out a laugh, even though the question is genuine.

"Is this going to be some kind of philosophy discussion?" The brunette rolls her eyes, and you can’t help but admire her talent in applying false eyelashes that long without poking her eyeballs out. "I wanna dance, that's why!"

"I don't dance."

"Everybody dances! You just move, and you're dancing. How easy is that?"

"No I mean, I don't dance. I spazz. It's painful to watch. Me, spazzing all over the floor…" Your voice has grown quieter with every word, until you’re nearly hiding yourself by taking another gulp of that bright yellow liquor in your cup.

It's sweet and fizzy and tastes like sunlight might if you could drink it, so you empty another cup.

Flashing lights give you a taste of what epilepsy might be like and you feel the music pounding through the air and floor caress your every nerve. You feel fuzzy.

But it seems to be a good fuzzy. Warm happiness flows through your body like thick honey. Okay, maybe that happiness was just this overly sweet tasting booze, but you still felt distant in a nice way, and your head seemed to be floating, only attached to your neck by a string. The feel of Maggie’s sweating hand wrapped around your wrist distracted you beyond words, until you realized she was trying to drag you somewhere.

"Well then, let’s find yourself some company so you don’t get bored while you don’t dance all night", she giggles.

The two of you wended your way across to the other side of the room despite every protest that came from you; dodging tables, drunks, dancers, and others with ease, until Maggie seemed to reach her destination with a proud smile on her face. A group of men, most of them as unfamiliar as the better half of people here.

One of them you knew, though. It was Phil from floor 3. G., that computer engineer that had earned himself the title of Maggie’s friend, but with certain… benefits. However by the way these two were looking at each other through that heavy drunken lust in their eyes, one could assume they were actually more than just that.

Shifting your weight from one foot to the other, you nervously nipped at your drink once again as Maggie introduced you to the group. A bunch of people that came to celebrate you, yet none of them even knew your name, you came to realize. Great. And if you weren’t slowly starting to feel very funny inside, that would’ve been just another reason for you to leave this party immediately, slip into your favorite pjs and call it a night.

"So, twenty-six, huh?" One of the men smiles and lifts his drink in a toast, gently tipping the cup against yours which snaps you out of your trance. Looking up, you’re met with long, silky curls that framed a slightly tanned and politely smiling face. Your eyes skimmed over his frame for a split second. His body was...compact, lean, firm, though not overly muscular. Just an average looking guy.

"Yep", you clear your throat and send the man an awkward smile that he answers with a chuckle.

"I‘m Ben", he says and for a second, you hesitate to take his hand that he holds out for you to shake. "Nice to meet you."

The impact of that barest of touches, a mere whisper of skin-against-skin as you shake his hand and he squeezes yours, was enough to send blood rushing to your cheeks. His hands are soft, too soft, you think. Ironically, that makes you think about the dozen times a day lately when you had caught yourself thinking about Quaritch‘s hands. His are rough, big and warm, littered in tiny scars that you could feel when he caressed your skin or when he held you in a bruising grip.

The ones that had you concentrate very hard, to not beg him to touch you, on running those fingers across your body. His hands weren’t soft like Bens, who probably worked behind a desk and spent most of his times indoors, preferably in an office of some sorts.

Ben was also polite, you realized right away. He held small talk like it was second nature to him, even though you couldn’t help the awkwardness in the beginning. But his voice is smooth like honey and his jokes actually manage to make you laugh. Genuinely.

But by the time you had emptied your next cup, you couldn’t even seem to focus on the conversation anymore. Everything had turned into a blur of movements around you, and you were grateful for Bens guiding hand as he placed a glass of water into one of yours and took the empty red cup from the other.

"Here, drink this", he said with a chuckle, "Can’t have the birthday girl pass out this early on her special day, right?"

For a moment that seemed endless to you but for anyone near sober it must’ve been nothing more than a few seconds, your eyes lingered on him. Ben was cute, you thought. Not that kind of puppy cute that could make you go aww and ruffle through his hair, but that kind that made you blush and feel hot all over. He was handsome too. For an average guy. But then again, you’re just an average woman, are you not? And kindness, real kindness, was something you suddenly felt very starved for, especially now that it was served to you on a silver platter.

Suddenly it felt as if that hunger was beginning to burn out of control. As if he could sense your feelings, Ben moved just a little closer, the heat from his body searing your skin as he placed a hand to your upper arm and tilted his head.

"Y-Yes, no, i mean–", you stutter, quickly adverting your gaze from him to the glass of water in your hand. "You’re right. Sorry, i didn’t mean to zoom out like that, it’s just been… it’s just been a week for me and normally I don’t drink. Not that much, at least."

His hand moves in a soothing motion, up and down on your arm as he listens attentively. Ben tells you that you have nothing to apologize for. He asks about your work, your studies. He nods along and smiles to everything you say and it makes you feel appreciated, on a level you can’t remember ever feeling before.

It takes an embarrassing amount of time for you to realize that you’re rambling about your work life. And it takes you even longer to realize that through it all, Bens hand hasn’t moved away. That all it did was move up, up, up until he reaches to cup your jaw, his thumb stroking over your cheek just as you explain to him how the the Pamtseowll can be used as a musical instruments due to the sound produced when the wind moves across the leaves of the plant. Looking back you realized, that must’ve been pretty boring for him to listen to, especially since Ben decided to cut you off mid sentence as he pressed his booze tasting lips against yours.

You’re taken aback from the sudden invasion of your personal space, especially when Ben wraps his arm around your middle and pulls you flush against him. But the alcohol in your system makes up for that pretty quickly, heat rushing up to your face and simultaneously between your thighs makes you feel tingly all over.

His tongue pushes past your lips and you gasp into the kiss, the cup in your hand almost slipping out of your grasp as you lean into it.

The allure of cruising for a quick fuck, or possibly hustling for one; no commitment, no strings makes itself known when a soft sigh, almost a whimper, escapes you. It could be so easy, you think. You could do it tonight and get it over with.

You had to do something about this, this feeling whatever it was, get it out of you.

And his lips already fit so perfect against yours, but that’s really the problem, isn’t it? They’re not too big or too small. His hands can’t close entirely around your upper arm. His chest is basically flush with yours. God, you’re almost eye level with him. He’s so normal, so average. It doesn’t feel special with him. There’s no spark behind his kiss, it doesn’t consume you, it doesn’t take your breath away. He doesn’t make you feel special.

No. This wasn't a good idea.

It was no use, picking a man that wasn't even going to be able to fill in for the one you actually wanted. The one who’s hands you wished were touching you now, instead of Bens. The one who’s lips you wanted on yours, so desperately, you couldn’t even stop imagining it were his instead.

Fuck it, you thought. If he could seek you out to find some temporary relief, so could you. And you needed one, needed him, before you did something you would surely regret in the morning.

Bens face was so close, you had to blink a few times to bring it into focus before you gave him a subtle little push and his lips finally detached from yours.

It must’ve been the sudden change of your facial expression, but he suddenly found the need to apologize for kissing you so sudden, so unsolicited.

"No, no, it’s not that. I just need some fresh air, I feel a little nauseous", you admitted sheepishly, which was both, the truth and a lie. You tried not to pay too much attention to the guilty look in Bens face as you excused yourself and quickly found a way to the exit without anyone taking notice of you, basically ditching your own party.

By now, you could make the walk through the dimly lit hallways to Quaritchs room in your sleep. Or, in this case, drunk and on uncoordinated feet.

Anticipation fills your hazed mind and with an enthusiastic thud, your knuckles connect with the metal frame, producing a muffled echo as you knock on his door.

Heart pounding rapidly in your chest, you eagerly wait for him to open, but the silence that follows is deafening. The realization slowly dawns on you that the Colonel isn't home and a mix of disappointment and frustration crosses your face. But you won’t give up that easily. If he’s not here, there’s only one place he could be at this time of the night.

Two floors up and down the corridor on the left, you could already see light beaming under the comically large door, loud voices and laughter echoing through the hallways that could already be heard as you had exited the elevator earlier.

Peaking into the common room that belonged to team Deja blue, you were greeted by a vibrant atmosphere where you knew the military men gathered to unwind after work. The space was adorned with patriotic decor, displaying flags, emblems, and photographs that reflect their shared commitment as well as their love for barely dressed na’vi pin up girls sitting on tanks and posing with guns. How ironic.

The air carries the smell of smoke and beer, and the musky scent of the day's work and you can’t help but shudder. Your inner warning sirens were working overtime as you stepped foot into the room, fear making your knees go weak, yet every sense of logic and common sense was overtuned by the alcohol buzzing through you. The room exuded a sense of unity, one you clearly didn’t belong to, making you stick out like a sore thumb.

Uniformed recombinant soldiers were relaxing on comfortable couches, their boots resting on coffee tables, engage in heated games of pool or cards -everything maximized to their ridiculous size.

It doesn’t take more than a few seconds for the first pair of eyes to land on your much smaller frame, before nudging the recom next to them with their elbow, pointing at you with their chin.

You try to ignore their boring gazes, the sound of low whistles and snickering picking up the more of them realized your presence. Pulling your sinfully short dress a little down lower, a feeling of regret fills your cheeks in a dark blush. But before you can change your mind and turn around to exit, a large palm settles on your lower back, keeping you from walking backwards out of the room.

"Hey doll face, where ya‘ going?"

Craning your neck up, you’re met with a grin that belonged to a recom that had a pair of sunglasses resting on top of his bald head. You knew he seemed familiar, but the liquor you had consumed earlier made it impossible to concentrate enough to remember his name.

"Oh excuse me, I- I‘m– I was just, uhm, looking for Colonel Quaritch?" You winced at the way you made it sound like a question, cursing yourself for embarrassing you by drunkenly rambling to a stranger.

"The Colonel?" He exchanged a look over his shoulder with some of the other soldiers, who were seemingly interested in what you had to say. "Why’s that, buttercup?"

"I, uhm, want to give him something", you improvise. "It’s urgent." That much was true.

The man looks you up and down for a moment, his eyes nearly peeling the little dress from your body as he takes you in, brows raised high.

"Give him something, huh? Why don’t you give that little something to me?" He laughs.

"He’s not here right now, but we can have good time together too", one of the others calls from behind.

You swallow the lump in your throat, awkwardly picking at your fingernails as your hands begin to shake. Deciding to back off and step back from the whole situation, you set one foot behind the other, already preparing yourself to mumble an embarrassing excuse before an arm wraps itself around your waist and you nearly stumble forward and into one of the soldiers arms.

"C‘mere pretty, I don’t bite", he grins, then points his chin to the bald soldier on his right, "But the Corporal over there sure does."

The men laugh and shove each other like a group of rowdy teenagers, and you’re honestly scared one of them could accidentally crush you if they fell. You use the short moment of chaos to wriggle yourself out of the soldiers grasp, only to be stopped short by your wrist.

"C‘mon short stuff, don’t leave", the bald one shows you an almost apologetic smile that you still struggle to trust. "Ignore these fuckers. Stay for a drink, yeah? I‘m sure the Colonel will be back in a minute. And we have the best beer anyone could get in this shit hole!"

Blame it on the liquor, but your mind was slowly beginning to draw blank, throwing all logic and consequences right out of the window and welcoming the nervous excitement of the forbidden. It felt like there was a pressure in your ribcage, making it harder for you to breathe properly, until you finally exhaled a shaky response.

"Just one."

The thing about working in the military is that you learn to kill your own tells. Killing your own tells is what keeps you from getting that double-tap to the back of the head. But learning how to pick up on what other people do when they're nervous as fuck, that's what’s really helpful, you’ve only just realized.

In hindsight, you should have known that agreeing to one beer that ultimately lead to two more and then to a round of poker was a bad idea. And now you’re perched up on someone’s lap and you don’t even know how poker works. That someone is named Lyle, you remind yourself of the previous learned name. His chin rests on top of your shoulder, nose buried in your shared cards that you hold up for him to see, one of his hands squeezing your hip while the other holds your hands steady.

"This one next," he whispers into your ear, pointing at the card on the far left before you laid it down in front of the table as instructed.

"Three fours showing, and over here…" The recom named Prager slaps another card down face-up in front of you. "Still garbage, sorry sweets. Ace high." Grinning, he pushes three colorful plastic chips into a pile in the middle of table. "I bet three."

The rest of the group remains silent, save for the sound of grinding teeth and stressed sighs.

The nervous trembling of your thighs doesn’t let up when the next round of cards is handed out, so you reach for the can of oversized beer and gulp the rest of it down.

"Relax, buttercup," Lyle chuckles, his hand soothing over your thigh, "You need to work on hiding your tells. You don’t want us to loose, do you?"

"Yeah but ya’ gonna if she keeps that up, Wainfleet," another soldier laughs.

"Poor thing is shaking so much, you might as well bet her next to finally get a lucky streak."

Crimson red fills the apple of your cheeks, barely visible however under the alcohol-induced flush of your skin. But even though your senses are as if in daze and directed at what is happening in front you, you still got enough situational awareness to realise that there’s someone standing in the doorway watching with a tense jaw.

"You gotta be careful," that someone says, the words flowing like nothing ever has, making the hair rise on the nape of your neck. "Betting another man's things like that."

And it should bother you, how easily he can categorize you as one of his things, like a gun or whatever fucking possessions he had, but it doesn't, because you are his. Aren’t you?

"Ah, boss", Lyle laughs, and you may not be a marine or recombinant or anything of the sort, but you could tell that he was nervous. Silence bleeds over the rest of team Deja blue as the Colonel steps into the room, sending cards go flying as he yanks you up by your wrist and throws you over his shoulder like a dead deer. Prey.

You squeak once the room has turned upside down, hands instinctively reaching for the hem of your dress to keep it in place as soldiers ogled the way Quaritch was walking you out of the room without another word and marched down the hallway.

The amount of times you’ve found yourself in his room could be counted on one hand, you came to realize, once you’re thrown onto his bed, almost bouncing off the oversized mattress.

A finger is pointed at you, and shame and dread uncontrollably fill your eyes with tears that dare to spill over as Quaritch barks at you like he’s lecturing a child.

"You listen here very careful, kid", he’s damn near yelling, and you can’t bring yourself to look at him.

Kid.

Being now twenty-six years of age, you certainly took a degree of offense when a man his age still called you 'kid.' There wasn't much childish about you, never have been. Not in the last ten years, so there was no need for him to go running his mouths at you like you were twelve.

Balling your fists at your side, you barked right back at him, "I‘m not a child!"

For several seconds, there was nothing, and you wondered if you’d truly fucked up this time, and you don’t even dare to look up at the man towering over you like a mountain. That is, until the bed suddenly dips and a hand effortlessly closes around your wrist and manhandles you to bend over his lap.

You would squirm and fight and run if it weren't for the iron grip on your wrists, pinning them behind your back like the wings of a butterfly to a board.

"That’s right," he murmurs that part, but the rest comes out more sternly, "So quit actin‘ like one whenever something doesn’t go your way!"

The first blow of his hand descended onto your upturned ass comes so sudden and unexpected, sending you sliding forward over the muscular thigh you were bent over, that you couldn’t help but yelp, before you sucked in a sharp gasp of air as the sting spread through you. "What the— fuck!" You hissed. "What are you even talking about!?"

"What am I talking about?" Quaritch scoffs.

You barely forced yourself to relax when the next one came, making you jump, and duck your head down even lower in a vain attempt to scoot farther away from his hand.

"I can smell the liquor all over you, hun. And the way you were throwing yourself at these little creeps? Don’t act dumb with me. You and I both know damn well what you were trying to do here."

"Y-You’re imagining things!" You protest. Another slap, and this time you could feel the smooth fabric of your dress riding up, giving him unhindered access to the tender flesh beneath. "Fuck, that hurt, you–"

Blow after blow came over you, cutting off every complain and every thought that might’ve formed if you could concentrate enough, and you might have tried counting them but there were so many. Too many, and your ass was burning and suddenly you wanted nothing more than to say you were sorry, you'd never do it again, and maybe the Colonel would stop soon and you could just promise to be good—

But he didn't stop and you heard the smack again and one more landed, and god damn it really fucking hurt. You only realised you had started speaking aloud, babbling apologies and begging for it to stop when fingers ran over your panties, feeling for your throbbing clit beneath the thin fabric.

"Tell me, would you’ve spread your legs for them like you did for me? Thought you could just take what you want because I’m not giving it to you?"

One hand squeezed and molded a cheek, and you moaned as he groped the overly sensitive flesh. If you could gather enough strength to crane your neck and look at him, you would’ve caught the way his ears flicked at the sound of that.

Another slap, this time aimed a little lower, more gentle, with fingertips brushing over your folds at the impact and you let out another moan, less like a painful one and more in a way that was so unmistakable, that when you felt the thigh you laid on tense, you could only guess what was coming now.

"Does this turn you on, getting what you deserve?" Quaritch said lowly, the spanks stopping for a while in favor of torturing you with the barest of touches, rough fingertips flicking over that little bundle of nerves until you were whining and squirming.

"No," you then responded in a hushed whisper.

Pulling the fabric of your panties taunt, Miles gave you a mean wedgie as he inspected the wet patch forming right there. With a chuckle he told you, "you’re pretty little pussy is telling me otherwise."

"That’s– that’s not true!"

"Oh, it’s not? That means you did enjoy all this attention they gave you today, hm? You enjoyed having all these fuckers look at you like you’re candy they want to peel out of its wrapper?"

"I- No, I didn’t–"

Rough fingertips run up and down your slit, cutting you off mid sentence as you feel him pull your slip to the side.

"What were you even doing there?" His voice sounds calmer now, collected, as he thumbs your exposed clit.

"Was looking for you", you mumble, all fight gone the moment warm pleasure fills your veins the more he plays with you like this.

"For me?" Quaritch chuckles, brows raised high. "Why’s that?"

"You know why…" You groan when one of his digits that had been circling your entrance slides into you, painfully slow and teasing, just an inch before it slides out again.

"I do. But I want to hear you say it."

Biting your lip prevents you from giving in to his teasing, but it doesn’t help muffle the moan that’s slips out when he pushes back inside, letting you feel the stretch of your walls as they envelop not one, but two of his thick fingers.

"Missed me, hm?" He grins. You can’t see it from your position, but you can hear that shit eating grin in his voice. And then his fingers start to move. His palm smacks your ass with every thrust, fingers curling inside you to feel for that spongey little spot that made you gasp.

"C‘mon, say it."

He speeds up fast. Too fast for you to catch up with, forcing moans and wet squelching sounds out of you, until you huff out in frustration.

"Fuck, okay! Yes, I missed you." That one actually makes him laugh, enough for you to grind your teeth, turn your head and bark back at him, "And you’re an… you’re a jealous old man!"

"Yeah? That so?"

His eyes seem to pierce right through yours as he glances back at you, grin sharp and dangerous before he grabs you by the waist and spins you around so you’re pushed with your back against the mattress, instead of being uncomfortably bend over his thighs.

If there was one thing that was able to set the butterflies in your tummy alive and making them do little jumping jacks, it was the way Quaritch so easily manhandled you so you were bend like a pretzel, panty shoved down and over your ankles, who were now nearly touching your ears. It was harder to breathe like this, that was for sure. But you don’t mind the position one bit, especially with the view of him laying down flat on his stomach, head neatly nestled between your spread thighs as he admires the wet glossy look of your pussy just begging for him to finally fucking do something.

You had guys go down on you before. Two in total. And it wasn’t like they were necessarily bad at it, it was just that they apparently had learned one way to do it and then decided to stick with whatever that technique was called. And that’s when you decided that being on the receiving end of oral, it wasn’t really for you.

But with Quaritch, you knew from the very second the tip of his tongue parted your folds from your slit to your clit, that it was gonna be different.

It felt like the pleasure was shooting straight up your spine, making your back arch off the bed as he repeated the same motion once more, groaning when your slick juices hit his tastebuds.

"Holy shit", you let the words out in a shaky breath, eyes wide open and staring at the ceiling above you.

"Eyes on me, cherry."

Glancing down on yourself, you catch the moment he spreads your folds with his thumbs to get better access to your clit that coyly peeks out from under its hood. Quaritch gives the little nub a teasing tap with his fingertip, and you both watch as a thin string of arousal and spit connect your clit with his finger before it breaks. Not even a split second later and he’s on you again.

You nearly choke on a moan when his lips close around your clit and sucks, his mouth halfway covering your whole cunt as he eats you out, tongue swirling around those sweet spots of yours. The noises he makes are wet, sloppy and so dirty, and it brings you to the edge of that pleasure high faster than you could process.

A hand reaches for his buzzed down hair as he gives you a filthy kiss right where you need it.

"Oh- Oh god, I think I’m gonna come", you moan as his hands slide up to hold you more open than you were before, so that he could taste you again and again, his tongue dipping deeper and deeper inside every time. Your hand curls tighter in his hair, tugging, and you worry for a moment that you were hurting him. Not that this was even possible. Still, you just couldn’t help it– touching him was the only thing anchoring you, as if you would float away and disappear if you‘d move your hands just an inch.

But Quaritch doesn't seem to mind, not if the way he groans, grinds his face against your pussy and thrusts his tongue deeper into you is anything to go by.

You could feel the pleasure growing inside you, in your toes and in your spine and behind your eyelids, and you arch against him, moaning at each touch of his tongue, his lips against your clit– sucking and slurping and kissing. It's building and you’re reaching for it, hips jerking violently as though to follow his mouth, and then you’re falling apart with a gasp that ebbs into a moan.

You don’t even hear yourself for the first couple of seconds, the blood rushing behind your ears drowning out the volume of your moans before your legs finally stop trembling and clenching around the head nestled between them.

Arms falling limp to your sides, you watch your own chest raising and falling in frantic pants. You’re spent and exhausted, truthfully. But you can’t help but notice that the wet glide of the Colonels tongue hasn’t stopped yet. It circles around your clit, not quite touching it, just teasing.

"Miles", you call for him, soft and quiet, voice hoarse from moaning. You’re not prepared for the sudden suction on raw nerves created by his puckered lips, and you cry out in surprise. Your legs twitch in overstimulation as he sucks and groans, the vibrations only adding further to the stimulation that quickly morphs from uncomfortable to pleasurable. "M-Miles, fuck! I- I can’t, wait!"

Your back nearly arches off the bed, if it weren’t for his his hands keeping you in place. It felt like his tongue was everywhere at once, licking every inch of your cunt, all those places that brought yet another orgasm rushing forward.

Unable to control the movements of your body, you pump your hips against his face as your stomach muscles clench and your head digs into the pillow underneath you.

"Can’t, I can’t", you mewl, "s‘too much!"

"No, you will take it", he says, barely lifting his head to speak and the air that blows out between his words send a full on body shiver through you. "You will take it because that’s what little sluts get. I‘m only giving you all this attention that you were seeking today and now you’re complaining?"

It takes a moment for you to find your voice.

"I‘m not- not a slut", you protest. Glancing down at Quaritchs face, his wet chin and lips slicked with you, his lips curl in diabolical pleasure.

"No? Then whose humping my face like this? Who’s been fucking dripping all over my thighs from being spanked, huh? Cherry, you are a little slut. A desperate one too."

His sharp tongue then flicks over your clit again, and you break into a thousand pieces. It feels so good you’re shaking, as red hot pleasure surges through your veins and clouds your vision. Your second orgasm ebbs away faster than the first, but is nonetheless as intense. The feel of sticky wet arousal soaking the sheets below you makes you cringe and you want to move away, but the iron grip he has on your thighs doesn’t falter. If anything, he just holds you more secure, pulls you closer, to press his tongue into you as far as it could reach.

"Oh god- please, I can’t!" You nearly sob, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes while Quaritch flattens his tongue to catch every droplet of slick running down your slit. "Give me a break!"

"One more," he purrs, dark and sinister, his sharp grin visible even as he peeks up from between your legs.

"I don’t know if I can," you whine, throwing your head back at the invitation of sensations that just don’t let up.

"You can and you will."

The pressure of his suction continues as he moves his tongue, trailing it along your lips and over to your clit again. He sucks the sensitive nub and then slides two fingers inside your body, curving them, increasing their pressure as your loud moans turn into screams.

Miles wraps his free arm around your waist, stilling your trembling hips and locking you in place. He increases the thrusts of his digits, rubbing intently against your walls as he sucks harder on your throbbing clit. He's determined to make you see stars and it’s for him to decide when this insanely pleasurable form of torture is finally over.

You could only hope, pray and moan to him, god or whoever– as you felt the beginning tremors of what you hoped would be your last orgasm for the night course through your body, and your legs clamp tightly, unable to withstand the sheer intensity of it.

Sensing the growing tension in your body, Miles suddenly pulls back, replacing his mouth with his thumb on your clit, stroking around the glands before touching it directly, causing you to cry out.

He grins, catching his breath, and then continues his assault on your body until you’re past the point of return, walls clenching around his fingers and thighs pressed firmly to his shoulders, framing his head.

It’s heat against heat, hot tongue against hotter folds, and you throw your head back and sob with relief. It’s good, really good— his tongue is long enough so that when he laps at you he hits your clit on the upswing every time. Your hips buck once its too much, his tongue nearly rubbing you raw but he holds you down and then it becomes just right as you fall apart with a cry.

It takes several minutes for your senses to come back together, regain your vision and hearing, and when you blink your sore eyes open, you’re met with Quaritch‘s, just as he’s finishing leaving a final mark on your inner thigh. His teeth have left a purplish imprint on your soft skin and he grins at you.

"You’re mine. Never forget that."

Taglist:

@littlesugarcube45 @hellok1ttycake @luvvsnae @ok-boke @mynameisbaby9 @vixorell @aduialwen @headsincloud9 @aconstructofamind @hotsingledragon @normsdaughter-alt @waiting4avatar @loaksulluyswife @mechformers @neteyamswillow @neteyamsyawntu @tallulah477 @hotdsworld @neteyamssyulang @byunpum @abcm18339 @eywaite @aperiraa @woodlandgirl22-blog-blog @puddle-nerd @luvv4j4ybe11 @loakstahni @neteyamsoare @ruyaas-world @minnory @xylianasblog @quaritchxwifewh0re @aria-tempest @justcaptiannoodles @neteyamyawne @loaksulluyswife @itchaboi-itchyboy @professional-yapper @ikeyniofthetayrangi @torukmaktoskxawng @taronyuhunter @yawnetu @talialobi @anemonelovesfiction @bambithewriter @tumblingdevils @danniackerman @witchsprit @rivatar @quarotch

Let me know if you want to be added / removed 🩵

#avatar the way of water #avatar #avatar 2 #atwow #avatar miles quaritch #colonel miles quaritch #miles quaritch #miles quaritch smut #miles quaritch x reader #miles quaritch x reader smut #atwow quaritch #avatar quaritch #colonel quaritch #colonel quaritch x reader smut #quaritch #quaritch smut #quaritch x reader #recom miles quaritch #recom quaritch

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youremyonepiece · 5 months

Text

soft terror

zoro x gn!reader (no pronouns used), zoro's pov

in which zoro attempts to identify what he feels for you. (he's not entirely successful.)

warnings: none, just fluff (please lmk if there are any i should add!)

word count: 2.3k

part 2

honestly, zoro is scared of you.

terrified.

it's a strange, unknown feeling to him. in fact, it isn’t until many long months after you’ve joined the crew that he even recognizes the emotion.

no, he had felt no apprehension at all when he first saw you. you were being held prisoner on a pirate ship, one that had engaged the merry in battle in hopes of cashing in on the straw hats' massive bounties. in the midst of the gunpowder plumes and flying splinters he had seen you, cowering on the enemy deck with your wrists cuffed in front of you, trembling but eyes bright and determined. he couldn’t keep his own eyes off you, distracted as they tracked your path to what he assumed was the edge of the enemy ship. what were you trying to do?

zoro swung absentmindedly at a rope that was thrown over the rail of the going merry, realizing the strength behind his swing too late. all he could do was tear his eyes away from you and watch as the force of his blade traveled across the water before slicing the enemy ship clean in half.

a silence fell over the scene, everyone seemingly frozen on both sides as the two halves of the ship began to slowly tilt inwards on each other, before--

“whoo! nice one, zoro!” luffy cried out, arms thrown up in the air. his yell was immediately followed by the panicked sounds of the enemy pirates as they began to scramble in hopes of survival, the straw hats entirely forgotten.

usopp crawled out of his hiding spot, cheering as he made his way to the merry’s railing to watch the enemy ship’s slow descent into the murky water. “perfect! exactly as i planned!”

he glanced nervously over at zoro to see if the swordsman would call out his lie, but zoro’s attention was back on you. were you-- were you going to jump? what were you thinking? still, he couldn’t help but admire your tenacity. you really weren’t going to give up, willing to even brave the ocean with your hands bound to escape.

“luffy!” he called out, pointing you out in the chaos.

luffy, hearing the urgency in zoro’s voice, looked in the direction he was pointing at and quickly found you, understanding what zoro was requesting of him almost immediately. he reached forward, gummy arms stretching far before wrapping themselves around your waist and retracting with the same speed.

you stumbled as you both lost and found the ground from under your feet in a matter of seconds. it didn't take you long to find your footing, however, and you quickly produced a roughly carved wooden stake from the folds of your tattered clothes. you held it defensively in front of you, eyes darting wildly between the straw hats as you tried to gauge the situation. "what- what the hell?" you breathed out, eyes wide with panic.

at your words, zoro sheathed his swords and held his hands out in front of him reassuringly (he knew he'd be able to handle you and the stick you clutched desperately, even unarmed-- despite your apparent confidence in your makeshift weapon, he could tell it wouldn't withstand a single hit, and you yourself were at least a good foot shorter than him). he cleared his throat before speaking, still a few feet away from you. "i'm not going to hurt you. none of us are. are you okay?"

unexpectedly, zoro found himself trusting you-- at least, trusting you to not be a threat to the crew. you couldn't be, he tried to justify to himself. you were too shaken, too frail, too exhausted to have been faking it. the terror in your eyes as they darted between his crewmates was too real for him to even consider suspecting you.

(looking back, zoro definitely thinks his decision had been unwise. he had been correct, of course: you would never do anything that would put the crew in danger. that isn’t the problem.

the problem is that he had believed you way too quickly.

but he also knows he doesn't regret it, because it had been you.)

it had taken a good fifteen minutes for the crew to calm you down and convince you that they weren't planning on killing you or taking you prisoner. zoro still remembers the relief flooding your eyes, your shoulders sagging for what seemed like the first time in months, the gratitude cluttering your mouth and spilling out all at once in a jumble. your flimsy weapon slipped from your fingers and laid indistinguishably amongst the debris from the fight. luffy stepped towards you, his friendly demeanor disarming your alarm as he easily broke off the wooden cuffs around your wrists. tears of exhaustion dropped from your eyes as you collapsed on the merry's deck, still conscious but too overwhelmed to keep standing or even properly cry. but the joy on your face was unforgettable.

(he doesn't want to admit it to himself, but he remembers every face you've made from then till now. he remembers it all. he can't help but to.)

he had let luffy take over introducing the crew to you, instead choosing to hang back against the wall of the kitchen and watch you. you were still slightly guarded, not entirely believing you were truly safe but not having any fight left in you to question it at the moment.

when your lips finally curved into a small, cautious smile, zoro had felt a strange sort of satisfaction deep within him. as if an itch that started when he first saw you had finally been scratched. and then-- and then you turned to glance back at zoro. his breath caught as his eyes met yours. yours were hopeful, searching, as if looking for confirmation that this was all really happening, that this wasn't too good to be true. he remembers being taken aback, surprised that you had looked at him of all people, but he hadn't shown it. instead, he'd just nodded once, and that'd seemed to be enough for you-- your smile had grown and your shoulders had relaxed by another inch.

that was the first time he had felt the strange feeling stirring within him. he hadn't known what it was, and that meant he didn't like it.

it had surfaced a few more times as you slowly but surely began to integrate yourself into the crew. at first, the plan had been to drop you off at the next town they found along their way, but that was quickly forgotten. you fit in well with the crew, like a puzzle piece they hadn't realized they'd been missing. it took a bit, but soon you opened up and were laughing as loud as luffy, usopp, and chopper during meal times. your love for reading helped you bond with robin and nami, and of course the damn cook was infatuated with you, what with how nice you looked.

you looked so nice, in fact, that zoro found his eyes glued to you whenever you were around.

which, unexpectedly, had seemed to be increasingly often in the weeks that followed. he had begun to notice you hanging out in his vicinity whenever he'd been taking a nap. same with when he'd been training.

at first, he tried to ignore you. tried to pretend like everything was normal and that your presence didn't make him feel strange things he'd never felt before. but it was hard to do. you were like a magnet; he was unavoidably drawn to you.

(you still are; he still is.)

when he couldn't take it anymore, when tamping down his nerves with strong doses of denial stopped working, he finally asked you, "what're you sitting here for?"

you smiled and he felt the familiar pit begin to form in his stomach. "where else would i sit?"

he jerked his head to the side, indicating with his eyes. "with everyone else."

your eyes followed his to the kitchen, from where the sound of some of the others laughing drifted out from behind the closed door. your smile didn't waver as you responded, "but being with you is... peaceful." your eyes found his again and your smile widened. he felt the pit grow, his heart thrumming loudly in his ears-- was he dying? "calming,” you continued. “i'd rather stay out here with you, if that's okay."

he barely managed a nod before turning back to continue his workout, desperately trying to ignore the heat creeping up his neck and hoping you had, too.

it was that night as he lay in his hammock staring at the ceiling that he finally recognized the strange feeling that overtook him every time you were near.

fear.

you are terrifying to zoro.

now that it’s occurred to him, he is sure of it. of course it’s fear. it explains the way he's always aware of you when you’re near, the way his pulse seems to quicken when you draw close to him, the way your eyes on his seem to freeze him in place. and of course he didn't recognize it at first. he’s roronoa zoro-- he didn't feel fear.

at least, not normally.

(somehow, you are always the exception to all his rules.)

it's not that he thinks you could hurt him or the crew that makes you scary-- he knows you wouldn't, even if you could.

he thinks it's your smile, wide and unabashed-- or maybe it's your laugh, so bright and sunny and full of joy. it could also be your eyes, with their tendency to display your thoughts to him in high resolution, vibrant as a flower field in bloom and just as alive.

no, that's not true. he knows what it is-- it's you. all of you. your hands that seem to be so gentle when helping chopper tend to the crew's wounds, but also so determined as they clutched your weapon of choice in battle. your legs, the way they always tucked underneath you so neatly as you folded yourself into odd positions whenever you took a seat. your lips, that he could not help but dream of, to long to touch.

you are so soft.

you are the complete opposite of him, he who had been forged in combat. he who only knows of sharp edges and swift force. he, who is so afraid of what will happen if he ever dares to allow himself to grow accustomed to your touch.

because it is so tempting.

he remembers the first time he touched you like it happened yesterday. it was so innocent, so inconspicuous and not even really anything worth remembering, but he did. of course he did.

he had just taken his seat at the merry's dining table when you passed him his plate of riceballs that sanji prepared for him. his fingers brushed against yours as he took the plate from you-- and that was it. see, nothing, just a whisper of a touch-- and yet, to him, everything.

your fingers had been so warm. he couldn't stop wondering how your entire hand might feel, held in his, and he later dreamt of it when he took a nap on deck in the warm early evening sun-- the sun that always reminded him of you.

he felt so pathetic, so torn apart and undone at just that slight brush.

the second time you touched him had been considerably more significant. it had been just after a fierce showdown with a family of sea kings; your exhaustion after taking down one entirely on your own had you stumbling as you walked back to the sleeping quarters. luckily, he was right behind you, also hoping to get some more rest after the spontaneous morning exercise, and caught you in his arms before your knees hit the ground when you suddenly collapsed.

your eyes widened slightly in surprise before you looked up at him with a sheepish smile, cheeks pink. "thanks. guess i was more tired than i thought."

he wasn’t able to fall asleep once you both made it back to your own respective hammocks a few minutes later. instead, he listened to the faint sound of your breathing as it evened out and slowed down. the soft breaths barely reaching his ears were meditative, trance inducing, and before he knew it you were stirring and stretching, urging the sleep to leave your bones after having resided there for a few hours. he remained still, pretending to be asleep as you quietly slipped away so not to disturb him. it wasn't until your footsteps faded away that he was finally able to sleep, no longer electrified by your presence.

(he dreamt of you, of course.)

after that, though, zoro lost count.

it had been as if him catching you that day had broken a spell-- suddenly, he found himself encountering your casual touches almost daily. you seem more at ease around him, slightly leaning against him when sitting next to him on a bench or playfully poking him when talking to him. and all zoro can do is gather these memories like precious stones and hoard them away in his heart.

but he never reciprocates. he can't. because what if he gets used to you? your soft touches and smiles and laughs and eyes and god, what is he supposed to do if he can't imagine life without you?

he knows.

he knows that you're dangerous-- tempting.

he can see it so clearly, a life by your side, sharing every moment with you. he wants it, he dreams of it, he aches for it with all his heart, but he fears it all the same.

because he already has a dream.

(is he allowed to have two dreams, or is that being too greedy?)

it’s only at night, when he's keeping watch over the merry and staring across the endless silence of the black-blue sea, that he allows himself to question what he feels for you.

he wonders if maybe he loves you instead.

#zoro x you #zoro roronoa x reader #zoro roronoa x you #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x you #roronoa zoro #zoro #one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x you #zoro fluff #zoro fanfiction #my writing #youremyonepiece #ahhhh so happy to finally be posting again #it's been 8 years since i've been active on tumblr omg #and ofc my first post back is zoro 😌

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incorrectbatfam · 7 months

Note

How do the members of the Batfam announce their engagement?

Dick: Guys, I have an announcement.

Stephanie: This better be worth interrupting my waffle time.

Dick: Wally and I are engaged!

*crickets*

Stephanie: Can you pass the syrup?

———————

Kate: You better not wear that to my wedding.

Bruce, tying his tie: Wedding? Are you even engaged?

Kate: *picks her nails, smiling*

Bruce: No way.

Kate: Mhm. Asked Renee last night.

Bruce: What'd she say?

Kate: What do you THINK she said, dumbass?

———————

Tim: Toss me the Riddler file.

Bruce: *grunts*

Tim: Also I'm engaged to Bernard.

Tim: And Kon.

Tim: And Bart felt left out so we included him in too.

Bruce: *grunts*

———————

Barbara: Not to break the fourth wall, but I know how to end this ship war for good.

Barbara: *turns to Kory*

Barbara: The courthouse closes at five. If we leave now we can make it in time to get married.

Kory: I have a dentist's appointment. Can we go tomorrow?

Barbara: Sure, engaged for a day and married by tomorrow. But we have a tight schedule.

Steph: That sounded fun. Hey Cass, wanna do the same?

Cass, shrugging: Sure.

Kate: What in the U-Haul did I just witness?

———————

Bruce: Selina Kyle, will you marry me?

Selina: Yes, I will.

Dick, from the rafters: Whoo!

Stephanie, ripping off her disguise: Get it, B-man!

Cass, in the corner: *nods in approval*

Jason, from the floorboards: About damn time.

Tim, behind the lamp: My legs were getting tired.

Damian, inside a plant: This took entirely too long.

Duke, materializing from the shadows: For real though, congrats.

Barbara, via a speaker: This wasn't my idea, just so you know.

———————

Roy: Oh good, you're both here.

Bruce: Yeah, but why?

Oliver: I was wondering that too.

Bruce: Get your own thoughts.

Oliver: Like your signature brood doesn't come from the Grey Ghost end card.

Jason: There's something important we have for you.

Jason: *gets down on one knee*

Jason: Roy Harper, will you do me the honor of pissing our dads off and marrying me?

Roy, tearing up: Oh Jason, of course I will.

———————

Damian during all this:

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empresskylo · 8 months

Text

beneath the mask ✩ chapter 8 ⬅ch.7

➠𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈; 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓; 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 ➠SIMON "GHOST" RILEY X AFAB!READER ➠CHAPTER TAGS | afab!reader. alcohol. nsfw. wc 4.8k ➠AUTHOR'S NOTE | had the pleasure of writing this chapter... also the fic is at 27k words already! whoo, this is officially my longest fic.

𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐜𝐨𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

“we’re all meetin’ down at the local pub, if you’d care t’join,” soap said, leaning against the doorway of the infirmary with his arms crossed over his chest.

you looked up from your clipboard and raised a brow. “oh, yeah?”

“yeah. the men could use a load off.”

he was right. it had been a tense week at base as the men worked on tracking down hassan and going out on missions but turning up with no luck. it was frustrating and tiring. you could see it in their drained faces.

the infirmary was empty for the night, no one having any substantial injuries that required overnight care, so you figured it’d be alright to go with them.

“yeah, okay,” you said, nodding your head in agreement.

“sweet!” soap’s reply made you smile. he always made you feel wanted.

something in you yearned to ask if ghost was going to be there, but that would just raise alarms. and as daft as johnny could be, you didn’t want to risk him finding out about your little… crush . ghost’s words rang in your head and you quickly abandoned that thought process, a flush rising on your face and chest.

you stood in your room feeling like an imposter. you glanced at yourself in the mirror and debated multiple times on removing your dress, but you really had nothing else nice to wear.

all you had in your wardrobe was workout wear and your uniform. you just never found yourself needing much more than that. you mentioned your lack of a wardrobe to your friend in the infirmary and she immediately offered her assistance. “i have the cutest little dress you can wear! i think you’re my size…” she said as she looked between the two of you.

you felt your face warm. “a dress? oh, i don’t know,” you said with a nervous laugh. “don’t you think that will be a bit much for a bar?”

“no! we’re always in these drab clothes,” – she gestured between the two of you – “it will feel good to put on something feminine for once. trust me.”

“oh, are you saying i don’t look feminine?” you teased, gesturing to your outfit which was a dark shirt, cargo pants, and boots.

she rolled her eyes and grabbed her bag, ready to head back to her room. “shut up and follow me.”

now you were standing alone in your room and rethinking everything. the dress was simple: black, just short enough, and flattered your figure. but you still felt odd in it. after seeing yourself in your uniform for so long, this felt completely out of the ordinary.

you played with the hem and debated changing. but what would you change into? sweatpants?

you made a note to get some casual wear – jeans, a simple top, a sweater maybe – just things to wear on your off days.

before you could talk yourself out of it more, you slid on the flats your friend has also let you borrow and you fumbled out of your room.

it was nice enough out, and the bar was pretty close, so you decided to walk, your friend beside you. “you look hot,” she said. a smile was dragged out of you, not used to such compliments. she sported a similar outfit: a shorter dress, simple shoes, her hair down in waves.

she hooked her arm around yours and you both giggled. maybe it would be nice to feel normal for a bit. to go out like most women your age do on the weekends.

you wondered if johnny and the others were already there. maybe you should have told him to wait for you so you could go together.

you pushed your hair out of your face as the wind blew and looked up at the stars. it was such a beautiful night. you deserved this . you deserved to have a little fun.

and you knew the men did this rather often. but that was before you had become friends with johnny and slowly with the others as well. now you were officially invited to things like this and it made your chest flutter with acceptance.

the bar was a bit grungier than you expected, its windows blacked out, the sign light flickering, a group of motorcyclists outside smoking. your friend looked the men outside up and down, intrigued, and you heard them whistle back at her. “let's go,” you said, pulling her along with you.

you both pushed your way inside and were greeted with the smell of sweat, alcohol, too much cologne, and burning wood. the bar was dimly lit and there was already a crowd of people inside.

you felt nervous as you scanned the room for someone you knew. you spotted soap and gaz in the corner and you smiled. your friend slipped away from you, seeing her friends at the bar, but not before making sure you were okay. you nodded to her then made your way towards soap.

“soap!” you said cheerfully, making the man spin to face you.

his face lit up, looking you up and down. “you clean up nice.”

“wish I could say the same,” you laughed. he gave you a cheeky grin in return.

your growing smile faltered when you saw a looming figure behind soap at the table. ghost .

shit. shit. shit .

you could feel his eyes on you and you shifted uncomfortably on the heels of your feet.

soap noticed your empty hand. “let me get you a drink,” he said over the noise and slipped off to the bar.

you awkwardly turned to the table and greeted gaz who was talking with a few other men you recognized but couldn’t remember their names.

you couldn’t stop your eyes from wandering over to where ghost was sitting he wore a black hoodie that he had pulled over his head, his balaclava mask, and dark jeans and boots. his hands rested on the table and he was still staring at you.

letting him win, you turned away. why did things have to be so weird between you two? were you the one making things uncomfortable?

before you could wallow in your thoughts, soap appeared beside you again and handed you a beer.

“i’m not supposed to take drinks from strange men,” you teased.

“ha. ha. very funny, lass.”

you nudged him in the shoulder.

“hey,” a voice said beside you. you looked up and saw commander graves approaching your table. “fuck,” he said, taking you in. “i didn’t recognize you. you look great,” he complimented.

you thanked him a bit awkwardly. soap reached over you and wrapped an arm over your shoulders protectively. “i don’t like the way you’re lookin’ at her,” johnny said towards graves.

graves laughed, raising his hands in surrender. you rolled your eyes at the nonsense of these two men. “i can do my own bidding,” you said up to soap.

“you heard her, she can turn me down herself,” graves teased.

you smiled, all three of you laughing, however, your smile broke when ghost got up and left the table.

“what’s his problem?” you asked soap, trying to sound casual, taking a sip of the cold beer.

“honestly, m’not sure. he’s been like this all week.”

you nodded, wanting to pry more, but that would be a bit conspicuous, so you just drank your beer and fell into conversation with the men around you.

three beers and three shots later, you were slurring your words slightly as you argued with the table about how you had the ability to multiply any set of numbers in your head.

“you’ve got a calculator under there,” gaz said, referring to your hands conveniently placed under the table.

you held your hands up, “go ahead. ask me another.”

soap laughed and spewed off a random combination of numbers, “four hundred eighty-six, times three thousand five hundred and seven.” gaz quickly punched the numbers into his phone's calculator.

you took a moment, the gears in your head turning, before answering. “one million, seven hundred four thousand, four hundred and two.”

the other two men beside gaz leaned over to look at his phone screen to read the correct answer.

“well, i’ll be fucked,” gaz said astonished, all the men gaping up at you.

you smiled and did a little twirl in victory. “i believe you owe me a drink, kyle.”

gaz nodded before standing. “honestly, i’m not even mad,” he said before passing you and going to the bar.

you turned to soap, “i’m going to the restroom. i’ll be right back. make sure gaz doesn’t spit in my drink.”

he smirked and nodded then focused back on the guys who were now spewing out nonsense about who could down a beer the quickest. personally, your bet was on soap.

you laughed to yourself and made your way through the moving bodies. once you made it through the crowd, there was a small, dark hallway in the corner of the bar with two bathrooms at the end. it was a lot less busy over here and the music rang far quieter in your ears, you were thankful for the reprieve.

as you edged around the corner you tripped and stumbled, laughing to yourself as you did. two arms caught you and you giggled at how drunk you were. “t-thank you,” you muttered. you finally focused on the person’s arms and spotted tattoos peeking out of their rolled-up sleeves. your eyes went wide and you quickly snapped your head up. simon .

“s-sorry,” you said, trying to get untangled from his grip and lock yourself away in the bathroom out of embarrassment.

“wait,” he clutched your arm and pulled you back to him. it was easy for him to move you, like you weighed nothing to him. that sent both a thrill of fear and excitement through your body.

you clashed into his chest and immediately tried to gain a bit of space between you two. you hesitated but looked up at him as he loomed over you. to anyone else, they would be terrified to be faced with a man in a dark hallway, his hood pulled, his face covered, and his stance over six feet. but you knew ghost. knew he wouldn’t hurt you.

“what?” you asked, a bit more snippy than you intended.

his hands lingered on your arm, tightening briefly before letting go. “are you with johnny?” the seriousness in his tone surprised you.

you scoffed. “what?” you were certainly taken aback. then you got a bit annoyed. “is there something wrong if i was?” you rolled your eyes and bit the inside of your lip. “I’ll have you know, there’s nothing forbidden about soap and i. there’d be no conflict of interest. so really, you have no right t-to ask.” you hiccuped on your last sentence and crossed your arms over your chest, trying to look assertive.

“how much have you had to drink?” he demanded.

“ god, ghost,” you threw your hands up in defeat. “what does it matter? why do you care? me being drunk or s-sleeping with soap has nothing t’do with you. and my intoxication level has nothing to d-do with what i’m feeling.”

“so, you are with him, then?” his eyes darkened as he glared at you from beneath his mask. a smudge of his black face paint was still circled around his eyes, making him appear cynical and slightly terrifying.

you laughed, he was missing the point. “no. jesus . i’m not with soap. we’re friends ,” you dragged out the ‘s’.

you stared at him, waiting for him to say something. you decided if he didn’t answer in the next few seconds, you were going to turn around and walk away. this outing was supposed to be fun.

just as you were about to sidestep him, he took a step towards you. you actually had to crane your head back now to look at him. “you know why i care? why i’m askin’ you all this?” you could smell the whiskey on him and it sent a shiver through you.

you shook your head. “no. that’s what i’ve been asking you ,” you whined in mental exhaustion, your voice was far quieter than mere moments ago. the anger behind your words seemed to have left you. “enlighten me. tell me why you’ve been so hot n’ cold lately,” you whispered, losing all your momentum as his eyes flickered between yours. “do you hate me, or n-not?!”

one of ghost’s hands came up and tucked a tendril of your hair behind your ear. your lips parted in a silent gasp. his fingers tickled as they barely brushed over your skin. you swallowed and his hand cupped the side of your face, his fingers slipping into your hair. he leaned forward and you felt your breath get caught in your throat, your eyes widening in surprise. all sane thoughts left your body. all that filled your senses was him. simon.

he used his free hand to snake up between your bodies and push his mask up to his nose, exposing his stubble and scars. “ i’m going to kiss you now ,” he mumbled. he lingered a moment, giving you enough time to escape his hold, but you stayed rooted in place.

in a painfully slow motion, simon leaned forward, hunching over and pulling your face up to meet him, and placed his lips on yours.

your eyes fluttered shut and you felt a race of adrenaline pump through you. his hand was gentle as he caressed your face, pulling you further and further into him. you couldn’t quite believe what was happening.

your lips moved out of sync for a moment but you quickly learned how to flow together. your hands instinctively reached out and fisted his shirt, allowing you to extend higher up into him and also keep your balance.

he turned you so your back hit the wall, making a squealing noise sound in the back of your throat, his free hand going to your hip, pushing you backward. he pressed his body into yours, his tongue tracing along your bottom lip and then slipping into your mouth.

you groaned into the kiss as he consumed you, his body shielding you completely. if someone saw ghost from behind, they’d have no idea you were pinned underneath him.

you gasped as he pulled away, his mouth still dangerously close to yours.

“simon… i—“ you began, panting as you spoke, trying to catch your breath.

your hands were still lost in his shirt, his hand still on your hip, but his other one was now on the wall beside your head. “don’t talk.” he kissed you again before you could protest. his lips felt so soft against yours, his stubble tickling you. his hand on the wall couldn’t stop itself from coming back to the side of your cheek, wanting to kiss you as deep as he possibly could. he was truly stealing the breath away from you.

your body rolled into his and you heard him grunt in the back of his throat. it was one of the hottest sounds you’ve ever heard. you felt like you were getting high off him, as he attacked your mouth with such fervor and heady need.

when he pulled away again, you gaped up at him. his eyes danced between yours, appraising you. trying to cypher through your thoughts. you looked at him through your eyelashes, waiting for him to speak or to move. you felt frozen in time. like if you moved, the illusion of him would fade away into a puff of smoke.

then he moved you in a haze, your eyes focused solely on his silhouette. he grabbed your hand, engulfing it with his own, and pulled you into one of the single-person bathrooms.

“what’re you—?”

he shut the door behind the two of you, locked it, and pushed you up against it, your feet rising so you were standing on the tips of your toes. he was panting again, completely succumbing to what he explicitly told himself not to do. the alcohol gave him just strength to suppress the voice yelling at him in his head.

then he kissed you again. this time rough and hungry. your body fell limp as you let him hold you up, his mouth moving against yours in sync. your arms reached up and draped across his shoulders, both of you fighting for dominance, but you gave up rather quickly and let him win.

simon’s hands roamed your body like he couldn’t get enough of you. any rational thought about pushing him away vanished. you knew you needed to talk about things — to figure out what he wanted from you. but right now, all you wanted was whatever this was.

“this goddamn dress ,” he murmured in between kisses, his voice husky and low. your chest rushed with flames at his words, knowing that you were affecting him by simply wearing a short dress, and it made you clench your thighs together.

simon’s hands went to the hem of your dress and he pushed it up, your body hot and clammy as his hand gilded along your skin. he nipped at your lip, his hand slowly descending between your legs. when he got to the apex of your thighs, he softly dragged his fingers across you, forcing you to moan into his mouth.

“i fuckin’ hate seeing you with other guys,” he said hoarsely.

you looked at him, a bit dazed, and still intoxicated — but now by more than just alcohol. “what?” you said breathlessly.

“soap. gaz,” he said flatly. “graves,” he said the commander's name with more anger, his fingers beginning to slide up and down you above your underwear.

you gripped his shoulders. “okay,” you hastily spoke, still not understanding him, but also not wanting him to stop.

he pushed your underwear to the side and you were thankful you wore one of your skimpier pairs tonight. as his fingers glidded across you, his fingers getting coated with your arousal, he spoke again. “jus’ with me,” he said.

just with him? what the fuck was he talking about? you nodded anyway. “just with you,” you repeated.

“ good girl .” your heart fluttered in your chest at his praise. you never knew those two words could sound so heavenly. but when ghost’s thick accent growled them out breathlessly, you found your core warming more than you thought possible.

simon pressed two fingers against your entrance, his lips now attacking your neck. you were trying to catch your breath, your mind fogged, your body limp, your heart racing.

when he pushed them both in, you gasped rather loudly. “ ohmygod ,” you slurred. you were beginning to pant wildly.

you could feel him smile ever so slightly against you. “ mmm ,” he hummed.

he slowly began to move his fingers, your body ready for him and letting him move with ease. “ so fuckin’ wet for me ,” he mumbled.

you clutched onto his shoulders, your eyes squeezing shut as you focused on the feeling of him inside you. he curled his fingers slightly as he went, pumping them in and out at a decent speed, your body squelching with each thrust.

normally, you might be a bit self-conscious about being vocal the first time you were intimate with a new person, but you literally could not contain your sounds. you moaned and mewled, crying out when he sped up, his palm bumping your clit each time his fingers went in as far as they could.

he felt you clenching around him and he marveled at how fast you were approaching your orgasm. it’s not that he had any doubts in his ability, but he’s never made a woman come quite this fast. and you had never had a man make you come this fast either. it was new for both of you.

one of your legs hooked around simon’s thigh, wanting to take him as deep as you could. “fuck,” he grunted, his free hand palming your breast over your dress. “you gonna come for me already, pet?”

you nodded your head repeatedly, raspy breaths the only response you could vocalize.

“go on then,” he commanded, keeping his speed.

your walls spasmed around his fingers and your head buried against his chest. your legs began to shake as you felt yourself reach your high. “fuck, fuck, oh fuck !” ghost engulfed you, holding you up and into him while you clutched him in desperation.

you moaned into his chest and you could hear him panting above you — as if he had just climaxed too.

he kept moving his fingers, making sure to bump your clit, letting you ride out your orgasm to completion.

when you stopped shaking and were trying to catch your breath, he slowed and eased his fingers out of you.

neither of you moved. you were still clinging to him and he still had his hands around you, your leg propped on his waist.

after several beats of silence while you both gasped for air, your hands snaked down his body and fiddled with his belt. you felt simon straighten slightly at your touch, his hand slipping into your hair and making you look at him.

you succeeded in undoing his belt and you let him tilt your head up toward him. “you don’t have t—“ your hand slid into his pants and grabbed him, cutting him off. he was painfully hard and he groaned the second he felt your fingers on him.

simon cleared his throat, trying to concentrate as you slowly began to stroke his length. “i’m serious. you d-don’t have to,” he stuttered.

a lazy smile filled your lips knowing how intensely you were affecting him. “i wanna,” you whispered.

simon’s eyes opened and searched yours, looking for any sign of… displeasure?

you let your leg fall to your side and you both untangled your bodies. you pushed his chest, baking him up against the sink so he was half sitting on the counter. you pried his pants down enough to free him completely. he watched you intently as you fell to your knees. he was thankful he had the counter for support because seeing you drop to your knees before him made him want to do the same.

god, he wasn’t sure how long he was going to last. he was already impossibly hard from hearing you moan at his touch. and now you were on your knees, begging to suck him off. he was absolutely fucked.

you gulped, realizing how big he was. simon murmured your name and you immediately took him in your mouth.

“ugh— fuck —!” he cried. one of your hands grabbed his base where your mouth couldn’t reach and you started a steady rhythm, bobbing your head up and down. your hand made twisting motions and your tongue pressed against his cock as you sucked.

“jus’ like that,” he groaned, his hand coming out to tangle in your hair. his other hand gripped the countertop, holding it so harshly he thought he might crack the porcelain.

you came up for a breath and a bit of spit dribbled out of your mouth and onto his cock. simon groaned, his hips begging to buck forward.

you took him in again and simon’s grip in your hair tightened. “not gonna last much— f-fuck —longer,” he said through bated breaths.

you hummed against him and the vibrations made his cock twitch. he gently bucked his hips forward and you gagged. the noises you were making were so obscene, and simon wanted them ingrained in his brain forever.

“god, pet. you feel so fuckin’ good .”

you sucked at the tip of his cock and began to stroke him at a more erratic pace. then you slipped him back in and his cock hit the back of your throat, making you gag again.

“if you d-don’t want me to come in your mouth, you better stop n-now,” he moaned, his head tilting back slightly in pure ecstasy.

you continued to work him, wanting to taste him. and with a few more bobs of your head and jerk of your hands, simon came in your mouth.

the hoarse moan he made sent a wave of pleasure between your legs, making you ache to fully have him. you held your mouth in place but continued to suck, making simon’s legs shake slightly. his hand in your hair was now painfully grasping at you but you didn’t mind.

simon moaned your name as he slowly came back to earth. you popped him out of your mouth and caught your breath, looking up at him. his cheeks were flushed where his mask was pushed up and he was looking at you in astonishment.

you were kneeling before him, swallowing his come, blinking at him through your eyelashes, your dress still hiked up a bit too high and you’d hair disheveled. you were a fucking work of art and simon was so fucking screwed.

reality came crashing down on him and he let go of your hair and stood up from the counter, pulling his pants up and redoing his belt.

he pulled his mask down and you rose in apprehension at his sudden shift.

“i’m sorry,” he said.

you furrowed your bows. “for what?”

simon cleared his throat, trying to gain some distance from you. “i shouldnt have taken advantage of you.”

you gave a mirthless smile. “i told you i wanted to. you didn’t take advantage—“

he breathed your name. “you want something i can’t give.”

“you don’t know what i want,” you said with more merit, but you hugged your arms over your body which said the opposite.

“you’re not the kinda girl for a quick fuck. and i can’t do all the–” he gestured around him with his hands, “– strings.”

you looked at him with hurt in your eyes. simon wished he could take back what he said. but he kept going anyway, sabotaging himself.

“you looked good in your dress. that’s all. m’sorry.”

you gulped, nodding your head but averting your eyes. you swallowed back tears and stood there dumbfounded for a moment.

you turned to leave the bathroom. you wanted to get as far away as possible from him.

he called out your name and reached for your arm.

“don’t!” you shouted, shrugging him off and storming out of the bathroom and back into the bar.

ghost cursed under his breath as the door slowly shut. he turned and put both hands on the sink’s counter and hung his head. why was he this fucking stupid? why did he hurt you like that?

why did he lie to you ?

it was true — he didn’t think he could do a proper relationship — but what wasn’t true was that you were simply a warm body to him. no. he had never wanted anyone the way he wanted you. he had been thinking about you against his will for weeks now. and seeing you in that dress, looking up at him with such soft eyes, he was done for.

he had never had butterflies when he kissed someone. but with you, his stomach did flips and his heart raced in his chest. he should have stopped then. he couldn’t give you what you wanted. and he couldn’t give himself what he wanted.

it was like he thrived on punishing himself. he didn’t deserve good things. and good things never last. the way you pulled at him led him to believe that he wouldn’t fully recover if he let you get close just to leave him. so he couldn’t let himself get to that point with you.

and you were innocent and full of hope. you’d hate him once you got to know him. he’d been hurt too many times to count and he thought he had forgotten what it was like to love — to have someone you care about. he wasn’t sure he even knew how to love anymore. he’d hurt you. and he was your superior. it was a disaster waiting to unravel.

but bloody fuckin’ hell, he didn’t think he’d ever be able to feel what he just felt in that shitty bar bathroom with anyone else. and that scared him.

he could chase after you. you probably hadn’t gotten very far. he could explain everything. tell you upfront about his concerns. you could discuss this like adults. he could let himself have something good for once in his life. but he didn’t feel like he deserved it… deserved you.

he stayed in the bathroom, sick of his face, and punished his reflection, slamming his fist against the mirror, and shattering it. his knuckles coated with blood and he growled. he threw the bathroom door open and startled the two people waiting outside it.

“what the fuck—you okay, man?” the stranger asked noticing ghost’s hand.

ghost pushed past them and left the bar, but not before spotting you with soap. you were drunk and he needed to be sure you’d get back safely.

he saw tears staining your cheeks and a pang of guilt filled him as he stormed out of the bar.

chapter 9 ➡

#ghost #simon riley #smut #ghost cod #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost smut #simon riley smut #cod #ghost fanfic #simon riley fanfic #ghost call of duty #ghost angst #cod mw2 #cod fic #call of duty fanfic #mw2 fanfic #beneath the mask

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yunhonumeris1fane · 7 months

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Babysitting•JYH/OT8

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“You only wanted to hang out with your boyfriend, but instead you end up babysitting your 6 friends, who are completely wasted”

genre - fluff

pairings - bff_ateez x reader, bf_yunho x reader

warnings - alcohol consumption

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Your last class just ended, so here you are, heading over to the boys' dorm. The previous day, Yuhno asked you to come over tomorrow and you gladly accepted his offer. But the message 'don't come today' he just sent you, leaves you dumbfounded. You asked him why, but he hasn’t replied yet, so feeling like there is something going on, you decide to see it for yourself.

Seconds after ringing the bell, you are greeted by a disappointed Yunho.

"Baby, I told you not to come over tonight" He pouts, peeking his head through the door gap, hiding something behind the door.

"Why?" You frown, as you find his odd behavior strange.

"It's for your own good. Everyone except me and Hoonjoong are drunk as hell. Especially San, Mingi and Woo" He explains the situation as you laugh at him. There's no way it is that bad.

"EEH, WHO'S THERE! Whoo are y-you talking to!" You hear San's voice coming from inside. Oh no

"No one!" Yunho attempts to hide you, but he's too late as San swings the door open, revealing your presence.

"Y/n!!" Blushed from the alcohol, he greets you excitedly and runs over to you to hug you. You're taken aback, as he looks absolutely wasted.

"Mhmbrhlmmm '' He murmurs something, as you exchange looks with Yunho, who only lets out a loud sigh, waiting for a catastrophe.

"San", you try to get him off of you, but he doesn't listen, "San please let me go"

"Nmnomnomn…n-noo" He mumbles, refusing to oblige. You hopelessly glance at your boyfriend, who gives you a 'told you so' look, before trying to tear him off of you, as he's stuck to you like glue.

"Yah! C'mon San, you can hug her later?" Yunho tries to persuade San and he finally releases you with a sad "okay", before wandering back to the living room.

As you step into the apartament, it's in a chaotic state. Loud music, accompanied by Jongho hitting high notes and the rest singing along. Loads of trash all over the living room, including soju bottles. You look over at the guys, sat around the coffee table in the living room and meet Hoongjoong's eyes asking for help. He's squished in between Wooyoung and Mingi, who are singing and swaying to music from side to side.

"Y/N AYYY, COME HANG OUT WITH US!" Mingi energetically gestures to you, so you look over at Yunho for approval, but he only shakes his head.

"I don't want to be a babysitter, I'll better join them" You're about to join them, but Yunho instantly grabs you by your hand.

"Please no, don't go, don't leave us!" He pleads, not letting go of your hand,

"DON'T LISTEN TO HIM Y/N!" Wooyoung yells out, giving Yunho a death glare.

"pretty please. Help us!" Yunho begs, looking at you with puppy eyes and almost convincing you. But before making a final decision, you turn to Hoongjoong, who nods repeatedly, looking like a scared hamster.

"Urgh fine" you let out a groan, as Yunho releases your hand and smiles happily.

"Guys, I need you to hand Hoongjoong over to me " you demand for the guys to free him, but they're not having it.

"No" Wooyoung pouts, locking his arms around him.

"I'm leaving then" you shrug and pretend like you're leaving, Yuhno plays along, "Oh no, don't leave!", as he acts hurt by your decision.

"NOOooOo!!" San turns to you in a millisecond and starts whining loudly. Everyone gets triggered by San's noisiness, so Wooyoung and Mingi release the captive and Hoongjoong quickly runs over to you and Yunho, almost tripping over a bottle left on the ground.

"You're my savior" He gives a quick hug of gratitude and a side eyes the group, "I felt like I was going to die there. Wooyoung was screaming into my ear. Then Mingi was constantly pulling onto my arm. And San kept trying to kiss me on the cheek"

You let out a heartful laugh, listening to Hoongjoongs complaints. Poor guy can't get any rest. Always in the middle of chaos.

"Why didn't you join them?" You inquire about your boyfriend, who's as sober as he could ever be.

"I didn't feel like drinking. I wanted to game, but Mingi and San dragged me out of my room, like literally dragged me out" He whines, annoyed with how the situation played out.

"Damn. What do we do then?" You rub your palms together, ready for action.

"If you try to do anything, you'll end up like me" Hoongjoong warns you, "but if you don't do anything, you might end up like me" Yuhno adds as you begin feeling like you should have stayed home.

"Mister, you should have explained to me, instead of just saying 'don't come'. Now I'm stuck in here with no way out"

"I was going to, but I couldn't even hit the send button, cause that was exactly when I was dragged out against my will" Yunho explains as you voice out an "oh". This is not looking good. You should run now and leave them to deal with the guys. But you can't, your heart quite literally breaks seeing the guys looking so sulky and tired.

"I'll go to the bathroom to cry, see you later" Hoongjoong informs and disappears from your vision

You wrap your arms around Yunho's waist, pulling him into a comforting hug, as he hides his face in the crook of your neck.

"It's okay. A few more hours and they'll be sleeping like they're knocked out" You console him, "we should tidy up the room. You deal with trash, I'll get their attention, so they don't harass you" you suggest as he nods and you make your way over to the gathering.

"Y/n you're joining us? Finally!" Seonghwa exclaims, pouring you a shot.

"I-I… no-" you're unable to finish your sentence as you're already handed a full shot glass, "eh, one glass won't hurt" you take it and gulp it down.

"Y/n you scared m-me, I- thought you were going to betray us and hang out with those losers" Mingi admits, his speech slightly slurred.

"Hah, look at him!" Wooyoung points at Yunho, who's picking up the empty bottles, putting them away in a trash bag, "he chose to be sober and clean up our mess instead of hanging out with us" he laughs at Yunho, as you get annoyed with him and picking up a cheeseball, throw it at Wooyoung, hitting him in the face. Everyone laughs, except him.

"Oww, why did you do that?" He scrunches his face, caressing his forehead, where he was just hit.

"Don't badmouth Yunho, or I'll throw this at you next time" You warn him, pointing at the sliced pork belly for the Bossam dish and he instantly shuts his mouth.

"Here drink it up" Seonghwa brings another full shot up to your lips, spilling it slightly on your clothes.

"I'll do it myself!" You carefully take it from his hands, "later, I haven't eaten much yet" You try to come up with an excuse, which he believes, too much so that he begins making you a bossam wrap.

You take a closer look at each of the guys, to determine an approximate time they'd black out. Jongho is either in stage one or stage five, you can't tell, as looks unbothered, searching for another song on tv to slay. Yeosang, sitting beside him, is in a stage called coma. He looks like he's already sleeping, as his mouth is wide open and eyes glued shut. Mingi is in stage four together with Wooyoung, as they're arguing over who's going to get the last piece of cheesecake. Plot twist - There's no cheesecake. Seonghwa is in stage two or three, you also can't tell. He is just doing whatever he wants and thinks is necessary, like, "Bzzz", he pretends like the bossam pouch he just made is a plane, flying into your mouth, "Say ah!", he stuffs the pouch into your mouth, as you almost choke on it.

Then there's San, he's close to Yeosang's stage, looking around clueless, unable to catch on what's happening around him. He crawls over to you and lays his head down on your lap.

"Mmhmm, so comfy" he smiles to himself and continues babbling like a child.

They look like a big mess, but you still feel like Yunho and Hoongjoong overreacted. There's no way it was or is that bad. At least you think so until Jongho suddenly blasts a song on a high volume, followed by a loud "Aaah", scaring the hell out of you and waking up San, who was about to drift off to sleep.

"Lower the volume and your voice" You nudge Jongho, but he doesn't react and continues singing. So you go with a plan b and shut him up with your hand. But it doesn't go as planned as he bites your palm, making you retract your hand instantly. Feeling like giving up, you move San off of you, instructing him to rest on Seonghwa's lap instead and he does. Then you lift yourself off the floor and go help Yunho and Hoongjoong to clean the living room. When you're done, Hoongjoong and Yunho look around and then quietly tippy toe to Yuhno's room.

Whilst you stay in the living room, inspecting the group once again. Now there's two down, four more to go. You suspect that Mingi is next, as he's talking with his eyes closed and barely saying any actual words. Seeing an opportunity to get out, you sprint to Yunho's room, where he's already playing games on his computer. Hoongjoong on the other hand is laying on his belly, "wake me up when the party's over" with that he closes his eyes shut.

You approach your boyfriend from behind and rest your hands on his shoulders, massaging gently, "You should get some sleep too, I'll take care of them"

"Impossible. How will you get them to their rooms, they're like twice your size" Yunho laughs at your words, knowing for sure how difficult they can get

"I'll drag them by their legs if I need to" you shrug, making him burst out of laughter, as Hoongjoong shuffles in the bed, slowly opening his eyes.

"Are they out?" he mumbles, voice raspy from a 5 minute sleeping session.

"No, close your eyes" you tell him and he goes back to sleep once again.

You stay by Yunho's side, watching him showing off how good of a gamer he is, until a sound comes from the living room, like an asteroid that just hit the ground, shaking the whole floor.

Yunho immediately takes off his headset and stands up, "what was that?" His eyes wide open as he follows you to the living room, where you're greeted by Mingi kissing the floor, in between the coffee table and the couch.

"Mind explaining what happened?" You inquire about the situation as Yunho walks over to Mingi, to check if he's still alive.

"He was standing on the couch, was dancing and then wanted to get off, instead he tripped and fell" Seonghwa mumbles, completely unphased by the chaos.

"He's alive" Yunho informs, glancing over at Mingi, who seems like he's out.

"Should we end the gathering here?" You turn to the remaining 3 members, who don't seem to agree and keep on talking to each other, "okay". They look like they're on the verge of passing out. Jongho's not singing anymore, Wooyoung is staring at his own reflection on the black tv screen, Seonghwa is for sure fighting the urge to black out, San is still sleeping soundly on his lap, Yeonsang is now sprawled on the sofa and Mingi's passed out on the floor.

You manage to turn your head away for one second and Seongwa's out, face planting the table.

"It's between you and me now boi" Wooyoung intensely glares at Jongho, "I'll be the last to black out"

"You know what, let's get the fallen guys back to their rooms and leave Woo and John here for now" You suggest as Yunho agrees and goes to wake up Hoongjoong.

"Let's start from Yeosang" Hoongjoong decides and Yunho volunteers to take him, since his room is right in front of the living room. You and Hoongjoong take San, but just as you try to lift him up, he wakes up and starts babbling, refusing to be taken away.

"Everyone's going to sleep, you too" Hoongjoong talks to him as you take San by his right arm and Hoongjoong takes him by the left one. You lift him off the floor and walk him out of the apartament. Yunho, at the same time, wakes Yeosang up, gets him on his back and heads to the room, to put him to bed.

When you successfully get San to his room, you lift the covers off his bed, as Hoongjoong puts him to bed with a little struggle, before tucking him in and heading back.

"Wooyoung's down" Yunho points at the man sleeping on the couch, as Jongho's giggling at him, happy to be the winner.

"I'll go by myself, no need-" Jongho almost loses his balance while standing up, "-no need for help" and with a smile he stomps his way back to his room

"I'll check up on him later, you two take Mingi, I'll take Wooyoung", Hoongjoong approaches him and gently shakes his shoulder to wake him up. You and Yuhno attempt to lift Mingi off the floor, but can't, so you go with a plan b. You take him by his legs, as Yunho takes him by his arms. On three you lift him and carry him to his room.

"How do we open the door?" You question Yunho, as you stand at the door, struggling to keep Mingi off the floor. Fortunately, Hoongjoong steps in to lend you a hand.

"Let's keep Seonghwa and Wooyoung on the sofa, Wooyoung was very unhappy with me waking him up" Hoongjoong suggests, as he opens the door and lets you in. When Mingi's in his bed, you go to Seonghwa's room to fetch his blanket and pillow as Hoongjoong takes Wooyoung's from his room. When you come back, you slide a pillow under each of their heads and cover them with blankets, “Finally, some peace” you let out a sigh of relief.

"I'm out, goodnight!" Hoongjoong immediately leaves as you drop to the floor out of exhaustion.

"You wanna stay over for tonight, It's really late" Yunho joins you on the floor, checking his phone.

"Wouldn't even think of going home" you rest your head on his shoulder, on a verge to fall asleep, "I'm never having kids" you admit as Yunho lets out a breathy laugh, "same"

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#jeong yunho x reader #ateez yunho #yunho fluff #yunho x reader #jeong yunho #ateez x reader #ateez #wooyoung x reader #san x reader #jongho x reader #hoongjoong #mingi x reader #yeosang x reader #seonghwa x reader #ateez fluff

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euaphoric · 10 months

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୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ ⊹ pairing — painter!jungkook x f!reader, best friends to lovers

୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ ⊹ warnings — fluff, diet smut, body painting, jk is such a sweetie pie (Uᴖ⋏ᴖU) <33, jk loves boobies hehe

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

he told you this would only take an hour max, but here you are 2.5 hours later still sitting in the same position that you were obligated not to move from. “koo, how much longer is this gonna take?” you sigh out of boredom, hugging your legs while your head rests between your knees. jungkook was taking his sweet little time with this painting, he needed everything to be absolutely perfection. he really thought an hour was all he needed but during the process he realized his eye for detail was much more critical than usual. “just stay still and look pretty for a tad bit more please, almost done i swear.” he says, darting eyes focused solely on the creation he’s making in front of him. gliding his brush along your spine, the softness of the bristles struck you with a tingly sensation from the paint he was layering onto your back. you were letting him use you as his final art project, he wanted to deviate from the norm and use a human body as his canvas and who wouldn’t be more perfect for that then his beautiful best friend? he’s known you for years, since as long as you both could remember, even going so far as to attending the same university. as time went on you’ve grown to be more than comfortable with him; but this was on another level of intimate. you felt too exposed with your bare back facing him but he didn’t make you feel weird about it which put your mind at ease. you were completely at his disposal to fulfill the vision he wanted and you couldn’t let him down no matter what. you’re not quite sure how you ended up agreeing to this but he was pretty good at convincing you to do things for him. “you’ve said that for the gazillionth time now, im getting hungryyy.” you whine. “shh, you’ll get to eat soon! i told you i would treat you to a meal right after this didn’t i? patience is key sugarplum.” there he goes with that damn nickname, he used to say it to make you cringe but now you find yourself endeared by the term. he took his angled brush to pick up a shade of lilac, adding a grey-ish pale blue tint to it, fluorescent pigments of yellows and oranges adorned your bleak skin.

surprisingly you didn’t mind this at all (minus you being super hungry), you didn’t mind the feeling of the brush against you, it was almost relaxing in a way. he was being really gentle with you as he promised, he didn’t talk much during it since he was so highly engrossed in his artistic endeavors. at least he was kind enough to play music in the background, you softly hummed the lyrics to ‘nights’ by frank ocean. you had no clue what the end result will be be and the wait was only getting longer and longer, the curiosity was killing you. “okay, donee you’re free to go now bub.” he announces, “you did so great for me!” giving you a head pat with traces of dry paint still on his fingers. “whoo! fucking finally, i’ve been starving!” you attempt to leap off the bed but he pulls you by the arm “wait, wait need to take some pics first!” he says, stopping you from going any further. he pulls out his phone to snap a few shots of his artwork, “this is probably the most beautiful piece i’ve ever done by far, thank you so much for letting me do this with you y/n.” you giggle at his immense amount of gratitude he was showing, “of course kook, that’s what homies are for right?” “right, homies…” his voice sounding a bit sulky when he said that. “can i see the photo you took?” you ask, you’ve been waiting for this reveal since he’s talked about it. he nods and hands you his phone, “let me know what you think.” your eyes set on the screen in front of you, it was no secret he was a highly talented artist but this was absolutely absurd. you couldn’t believe how intricate and beautifully he was able to capture such an image — his work was otherworldly astonishing. the scenery was of a deep indigo sea below the falling sunset, blends of periwinkle, magenta, and ivory in the sky; the silhouette of a woman’s body in the forefront, looking off into the distance. it was better than anything you’d expected, his work deserved its own showcase within itself.

“wow koo this is…” you had trouble finding the right words to even praise him, “this is stunning, how are you so talented at literally everything you do?” he chuckled, “thanks love and i’m only good at it because i practiced a lot over time, i wouldn’t have been able to do this without you though sugarplum.” he uses that little name yet again. “so, when can i put my shirt back on…?” you wonder, feeling a tiny bit awkward still covering your chest. “it’s still drying, it’ll dry fast though just give it like 5 more minutes sweetheart.” what the hell is his problem today, what’s with all the pet names all of a sudden? you turn to face him, a wide smile plastered on his face as he still looks at the photos. you could sense how proud he was through his mannerisms, you could read him like a book. “you know what i’ve always wanted to paint on?” he asks you, glancing up from his phone. “what?” “breasts, they’re so pretty!” of course he’d say that, your best friend could be a total perv sometimes. you slap his arm playfully after that comment, “you’re such a dork!” “yeah but i’m your dork.” he smirks. he was so cute it hurts. “could i try painting on yours?” he wasn’t meant to actually say that out loud. you paused for a minute, thinking whether or not he’s just joking with you but by the tone of his voice it didn’t sound like he was. “you.. wanna paint on my boobs?” you definitely understood him the first time but shock was getting the best of you. “pretty much, yeah.” he openly admits, “only if you’re comfortable with it though of course!” he felt his cheeks get hotter the more he talks. “i mean- this won’t be weird for you at all? you’re my best friend.” i guess now was a good time to finally come out with it, “i love you y/n.” “awe, i love you too koo.” “no, no, not like that… for fucks sake i’ve been in love with you for so many years!” there was no use in hiding it anymore, it was either this or live the rest of his life in pain and suffering. “and you’re just telling me this now?” you said, dumbfounded by his confession. “you didn’t ever think it was obvious? i was waiting for the right moment but it just never came.. well, until now.”

you should’ve known all along if you’d actually paid attention but your oblivious nature would blind you to believe it be something else. he’s always been your ideal type, even though you’ve never explicitly said it, you know once you do this there’s no turning back. “okay, i’ll let you paint on them.” “wait- really?” his eyes lit up with solar systems in them, feeling like he just struck rare gold. you nod, slowly unveiling your arms from covering your chest. jungkook watches you in awe, he thinks you were handcrafted by the angels above themselves, everyday you manage to make him fall even harder. you were sat near the edge of bed as he admires your figure, taking in the very sight of your raw beauty. “you’re so gorgeous y/n..” he husks, grabbing your hand to pepper butterfly kisses along them, all the way up to your arm. “everything about you is art to me.” he brought you closer in his distance, pulling you into a deep kiss as he gropes your thigh. your hands wander down his back while holding you firmly, sliding his fingers gracefully up and down. giggling into his mouth from the ticklish feeling on your thighs, taking that as an opportunity to slip his tongue in. in this moment, you still couldn’t believe you’re kissing your best friend, but oddly enough it felt natural. you both stayed like that for ages, kissing and enjoying the way you both taste, this all feels like a fever dream to him. once jungkook pulled away he left both you and him breathless, panting heavy as he brings his hands to fiddle with your perked breasts. he sensed a second pulse in his pants, it didn’t take much for him to be turned on by you at all. “so perfect..” he breathes against your neck tauntingly, “just for me.” he’s always loved physical touch but this was foreign to you, you’ve never imagined the hands of your best friend wrapped around your breasts, playing with them and sucking on your hard nipples. cute moans escape your mouth from it being agape, you run your fingers through his blonde mane as you look down at him taking your whole titty in his mouth. he looks so pretty underneath you. when he breaks away your chest glistens with his spit and saliva, however, it’ll soon be covered up with more paint.

jungkook found you so breathtaking. that’s why he scrambled to the idea of making you a part of his art project, he wanted to create something unique and special to him. after you’ve been making out for what seemed like hours, he shifted his attention back to the task at hand. he grabbed his palette with premium paints and squeezes just enough out to make sure none of the colors goes to waste. he dips his inked finger into the fiery crimson hue, applying the cold substance to your left breast, making you yelp. he smirks, biting his lip at your etherealness. he twirls his finger around your nipple, creating intricate patterns with the saturated varnish. you’ve never felt more beautiful, his love for art and you combined gave him a life worth living. another color gets added to the mix, a bright turquoise, this time dragging his fingers across the side of your non painted chest. you shiver from his touch easily, the sensitivity of it all being too much for you. your eyes close at the feeling, vibrational frequencies leave your whole body quivering. “fuck koo…” you moan as every molecule in you feels shaky. “yes sugarplum?” he asks, looking up at you with doe eyes. “i love when you call me that..” your breathy pants were giving jungkook all the more reason to want to smother you right now. “i’ll always call you that beloved, don’t worry.” he assures, “and to think you used hate that nickname, tchh i knew you secretly liked when i called you that.” his fingers smear more bold paint onto your breasts, he could do this all day if he could. the sounds of your moans coexisting with the music was a harmony in heaven. jungkook loved you so much it hurt, “you mean so much to me, you have no idea..” he said, placing another kiss to your delicate lips, “i’m beyond crazy about you y/n, i’ll do anything for you.” his lips travel over to your chin, pecking the sides. “hmm really, anything?” you question the validity, watching him mix more colors together. “yes babydoll.” he coos, eager for your response. “oki, i’ll tell you but you’ll have to feed me first— then want you to paint something else after.”

@genkima ִֶָꨄˎˊ˗

#jungkook imagine #jungkook imagines #jungkook x reader #jungkook x female reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #bts smut #bts x reader #bts imagines #jk smut #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook imagines

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multi-fxndom446 · 6 months

Text

All I ask

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick x Reader

Summary: you and kyle try to contain the feelings you have for each other all while living together.

Warnings: none it’s so fluffy. Roommates to lovers, basically best friends to lovers. There’s mention of blood near the end but not extensive.

Word count: 5k

God I hope you guys like this one I changed the ending like 5 thousand times so honestly please love it or I’ll cry.

“You’ve never learned how to dance?!”

Kyle laughed at the way you looked at him. Mouth open in surprise while the knife you were just using to cut some vegetables with was practically pointing in his direction almost in accusation.

“No, I’ve never exactly had the time. Yknow army and all?” You scoffed at his reply and turned back to your cutting board while he grabbed a glass of water.

He wanted to help you cook dinner but you quickly shut down the idea the moment he stepped into the kitchen not that long ago. Saying something about him being home a few weeks already and this was the first time you had a chance to cook him a meal.

You could almost get used to the domestic feeling of it all you almost have on more then one occasion before you had to remind yourself..he’s just a roommate.

Someone who had come to you almost two years ago now asking for the extra bedroom you had. You were desperate at the time, your old roommate had left without warning and you were left with only two weeks to find someone.

So when this rather nice military man came to you asking if it was still available you were more then happy to say yes. It helped he did look rather handsome but who’s asking.

He told you in his interviewing process how he really wouldn’t be here as much but he would keep up with the rent. You remember asking him why he was even getting a place and he mentioned family nearby he wanted to stay close too.

Didn’t mention the family he was talking about was his Captain who regularly stayed at the base that wasn’t to far from you. He didn’t mention it until about 6 months later.

“You really need to learn how to do that.” You mentioned while you dumped all the veggies into a pot on the stove. “How are you gonna whoo any girl you find attractive in those bars you and your friends go to?”

Kyle went silent at your words and it made you glance over to him. He wasn’t looking at you though his gaze seemed further away like there was something he wanted to say but held himself back.

“Can you get the chicken?” His eyes snapped to you when you called for him again. He quickly nodded and made his way to the fridge where he paused.

“Uh.”

You didn’t like the sound of that. “What? What is it?” You wiped your hands while walking closer to see what he was looking at.

It was the chicken you bought not that long ago but he had a cringe on his face. “This is expired.” You gaped at him and snatched the package from his hands.

“No way! I just bought-“ but as you turned it you saw it, clear as day. It expired last week. “That no good meat department man sold me bad chicken!”

Kyle laughed whole heartedly behind you and while you were annoyed at the situation you couldn’t deny the way his laugh filled the void you felt when he was gone.

You looked up at him with a frown and it only made him laugh harder. He reached for the phone, dialing a few numbers while he went to the stove and shut off the burner.

“What are you doing?” You were disappointed. You had been planning this dinner since he returned a few weeks ago and it just all went down the drain.

Kyle was still smiling at you when you walked past him to the trash bag to throw the chicken away. “Ordering pizza.” You turned to him with a thumbs up and let him order while you cleaned the rest of your unnecessary mess.

Awhile later you and Kyle found yourselves on the couch, pizza long gone. Now it was just the two of you drinking whatever alcohol he had leftover while he told you funny stories about his task force.

Things he could tell you, most of them being stuff they got up to on their downtime. You surmised awhile ago that when he and this ‘soap’ were together they caused the most trouble.

You loved listening to him talk, to see the way his eyes lit up when he spoke of the people who had become his family. It didn’t mean it hurt any less when he would leave but you knew what you agreed too. You just never thought you were going to fall in love with him in the process.

“There’s one thing about Price that everyone knows and it’s not to mess with the cigars.” He held up his hand in contemplation, “okay two things, his cigars or his hat. Completely off limits. I thought he was gonna wring Soaps neck when he grabbed it and took off. Never seen that man run faster in my life.”

The brief silence was cut short when Kyles phone started buzzing and suddenly the carefree look on his face hardened. It was so fast, if you weren’t used to it by now you may have been shocked.

He tried to give you a reassuring smile as he stood, “I’ll be right back.” He muttered, setting down his beer.

You couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. You already knew what he was being called in for. Since moving in you’ve memorized his ringtones and this one was for when his Captain called him, and his captain never called unless it was to tell him about a new mission.

You learned a lot about him from the short time you’ve lived together even when he was gone for a lot of it. You memorized his routines. Almost all of them.

When he came home from long missions you knew he’d be so tired he would kick his shoes off at the door instead of putting them inside because he would clean them of the dirt and mud the next morning. He was always so tidy, you told him multiple times he can leave things around but he always laughed you off.

You honestly wish he would leave things around. Make his mark on the apartment so it didn’t feel so lonely.

You were so deep in thought you didn’t notice when Kyle came back into the room, you never had. The man walked like he was floating. He could see the disappointment in your gaze and it made his heart hurt.

He tapped his phone against his palm a few times, gaining your attention. He stood there for a few more minutes just thinking before he tossed his phone on the couch and walked over to you with his hand held out.

You glanced at him in confusion but he only smiled. “You said someone has to teach me how to dance right? Then come on teach me.” Instantly a smile spread across your face and you eagerly took his hand in yours.

“Okay Mr. Garrick.” He only laughed at you while you quickly scrolled through your phone to find a playlist of some of your favorite songs. “You gotta loosen up first okay? You look nervous so just don’t?”

You grabbed his hands and the two of you danced around goofily for the next several songs. Kyle on multiple occasions would spin you around, laughing–telling you it was the only move he was confident in.

At some point he spun you around so many times you all but collapsed into his arms, laughing. You felt like your head was spinning but you were having the best time of your life.

It wasn’t until the next song started that you realized the situation you were in. Kyle had his arms wrapped tightly around you like he was keeping you from falling to the ground and you were practically pressed against his chest.

You coughed slightly just to get his attention and immediately he loosened his hold but didn’t completely let go of you just enough for you to situate yourself. “Okay now for the real deal. This is where you’d get all the ladies so watch and learn.”

He allowed you to move his hands to where they needed to be, one on your waist and the other holding loosely onto your other hand. “Since you seemed to like spinning me so much this one is the perfect way to do it.” He only nodded at you as you both began to take small steps.

He moved with you which didn’t surprise you in the slightest he was always a fast learner. You were watching the floor to keep from making eye contact with him but it didn’t help that you could feel the heat of his palm on the small of your back.

He gently let your waist go to spin you, this time he made sure not to spin you an extensive amount of times. But instead of spinning you all the way back around to face him he spun you until your back was facing him and the hand holding yours came down across your collarbones to pull you gently to his chest while his other hand went back to holding your waist.

You felt your breathe still when you realized what happened. Your heart felt like it was beating a mile and minute, so fast you couldn’t even tell if you could feel his heart doing the same.

You felt his breathe on the side of your neck and then you felt his lips skim the shell of your ear. You almost wondered if he knew what he was doing or if this was just instinctual.

“S-so that’s definitely a way to impress a girl.” You said, swallowing thickly when you felt the hand on your waist move down to your hip where he squeezed a little tighter like he was trying to ground himself.

You felt his lips leave your ear but you could also feel the deep breathe he took–his chest rising and falling behind you. “Kyle?” You whispered softly and his arm across your chest flexed against you.

He took one more deep breathe before loosening his hold and letting you slip from his arms but he kept one hand still grasped in his. You felt your face heat up and if he noticed he didn’t mention it, instead he gave your hand a small squeeze. “Sorry, let’s continue.”

His voice sounded rough like it hurt him to let you go. You watched him for a moment but he couldn’t hold your gaze. He had you pressed so close to him, if it were up to him he would’ve never let you go but he knew he had to. This was just supposed to be a fun teaching moment he couldn’t turn it into something more.

Then the song came to an end and a few seconds later ‘All I ask’ by Adele started to play. You took a few steps closer to him again, “okay now this next one may be how you get a girl to fall for you.” You joked.

You moved both his hands to your waist and he pulled you closer almost instantly while yours went to wrap around his neck. The moment felt so intimate when he finally looked you in the eyes.

‘-if this is my last night with you

Hold me like I’m more then just a friend’

You felt him shudder against you when you started tickling the back of his neck. He searched your eyes when one of your hands moved from behind his head to cup the side of his jaw.

His whole world felt like it stood still when you looked at him like that, like he was your whole world. Like he was the most precious thing that you wanted to hold close. If you just said the words he would let you hold him as long as you wanted.

‘-give me a memory I can use.

Take me by the hand while we do what lovers do.’

He could see it in the way you looked at him that you were searching for something. For comfort? He wasn’t sure until he realized just how close you both were now and his arms held tighter onto you.

This was so much worse than having your back to him. Because now he had no way of calming himself down. Not when he could see every detail about you so close to him.

His thumbs rubbed soothing circles in your waist while he moved closer to you. He was so close now you could feel his breathe on your lips and you wanted nothing more then to close the distance completely.

You felt your breathe hitch when you saw how intensely he was looking at you. It was like he could see right through you, like he could see everything you were feeling, everything you’ve ever tried to hide from him.

You could feel his lips graze yours now as well as the way his hands moved. One hand was pressed to your lower back and another at your upper back like he was trying to keep you from slipping away this time.

Both your hands were now resting softly at his neck while your gaze flicked between his eyes and his lips. When you looked at him though you realized he wasn’t doing much better.

His breathing seemed to be more ragged and his hands tensed against you as if he was holding himself back.

‘-it matters how this ends

Cause what if I never love again?’

You both were tiptoeing the line that was drawn between you the moment he moved in. One of you moving just a centimeter closer just to pull back slightly.

Your fingers were skimming his jaw line softly, reveling in the way he tensed at your touch. You were a hair's breadth away from each other when you heard his phone ding with an incoming text.

You pulled apart instantly as if pulled from a trance. You were still in his arms but now a safe distance away from his lips and he moved his hands back down to your waist slowly.

He watched you glance behind him to the couch where his phone was lit up. “When do you leave?” You asked quietly while you both continued to sway softly side to side.

“Tomorrow.” You nodded sadly. “I’ll be gone awhile. This one sounded serious. Try not to miss me to much yeah?”

It was meant to be a joke and you could see it in the way he tried to give you a soft smile but all you could do was frown. “I always miss you.” You muttered.

He sighed and brought his hand to the back of your head to pull you closer to him so he could leave a kiss on your hairline. Muttering a soft “I know.”

You continued to sway long after the song was over and what felt like long after the night had ended. You spent as much time as you possibly could with him because you knew tomorrow morning you would be holding onto him as if that would get him to stay. It wasn’t like he held onto you just as tight wishing he wasn’t leaving.

“Be careful.” You would tell him as he left and he’d give you a cheeky grin and kiss you on the cheek as he rushed out the door before replying.

“Always for you.”

It wouldn’t be until months later that the mission would actually finally finish up. It was a very top secret one so he wasn’t able to talk to you, though those were quite a bit of his missions.

He thought about you almost daily. The last night you spent together dancing was something that got him through a lot of tough spots while he was away.

It helped especially when his job required him to see such dark spots in the world he could always recall a memory where you were the light and it never failed to make him remember just exactly what he was fighting for.

Before you came into his life there were some day where he had a hard time understanding the difference between good and bad. Some days he even considered himself to be a bad guy, for letting innocent people get killed because he was too slow to stop a threat.

Other days he couldn’t understand where to draw the line like his Captain had told him and he would get lost in his own head.

It was price that told him to go find an apartment off base because he could see the way it was effecting him to be there all the time. So really he had his Captain to thank yet blame for ever meeting you.

He remembered the first few weeks you started living together, it was awkward at the time but now was a cherished memory of his he came back to often. There had been so many times you apologized about any little mess you made just because you saw how tidy he was but he always waved you off with a smile.

He remembered all the shopping trips you went on together or how you would build furniture together. More like you read him the instructions and he finished it all in under twenty minutes.

He remembered the gradual time spent getting to know each other. The time he spent slowly but surely opening up to you about things and the way you did as well. Even if he spent a lot of time away he knew almost everything about you.

It’s safe to say you were the only thing on his mind as the mission wrapped up and he along with Ghost and Soap went to a bar nearby to unwind when in reality all he wanted to do was go straight home just so he could see you and hug you again.

“So when’re you gonna introduce us to this ‘roommate’ of yours Gaz?” Soap asked after they finished there first round of drinks.

Kyle laughed and played with the bottle in his hand, trying to ignore the way his face suddenly felt hot at the insinuation. “Don’t know. And she is just a roommate.” Ghost and Soap shared a look.

“Seriously?” Ghost asked and Kyle nodded in confirmation. Ghost grunted in disbelief. “There’s no way. You talk about this girl way to much for her to be just a roommate.”

“Gaz..” soap held his hand up, interrupting whatever Kyle was about to say. “You’ve talked about this girl almost everyday for a year and a half now. And how long have you been living together?”

“Almost two years.” He mumbled playing with the rim of his beer. “We’re coming up on the end of the lease again in a few months.”

“And I bet you haven’t thought about leaving that apartment huh? I don’t think it’s even crossed yer mind.” Kyle rolled his eyes at Soap and pushed away his beer.

He wasn’t exactly wrong.

“Just grow a pair and tell her you love her already.” Ghost grumbled, “save the rest of us from the sad puppy dog eyes you get every time you talk about her.”

“Or you could introduce us, who knows maybe she’d like a Scottish man.” Soap teased as he nudged Kyles shoulder.

Kyle leveled him with a glare that only served to make Soap laugh harder than he had been. “This is why I won’t.” He wouldn’t admit that he was nervous about the idea of you meeting his task force. What if you found them scary? Or worse, found one of them attractive and asked him for their number? He couldn’t handle that.

“As enlightening as this conversation has been, I’m gonna head home.” Kyle threw a few bills from his wallet onto the counter and slid his beer over to Soap who greedily took it after he finished his second one not even a minute earlier. “I’ll see you boys later.”

“Hopefully with some news!” Soap called out to him as he exited the bar making Kyle shake his head laughing.

It didn’t take him long to make it back to the apartment and he couldn’t deny the way his heart sped up the moment he could see one of the lights in the apartment was on.

He didn’t call to tell you he was coming home like he got in the habit of doing. He wanted to surprise you this time especially when the last he spoke to you was almost a month ago and he told you he wasn’t sure when he would be coming back.

So after a few minutes of gathering himself, he grabbed his bag and headed for the door. It was oddly quiet when you were alone and he almost wondered if you were asleep and just forgot to turn off the lights.

“Y/n?” He called out into the quiet apartment.

“Kyle?!” Was what he heard back followed by a loud crash and glass shattering.

He dropped everything he was holding at the door and ran in the direction of the noise, completely forgetting about his boots he had yet to take off at the door.

All he knew was that you could be in danger or you could’ve been hurt and he felt his whole world came crashing down slightly.

For a moment it felt like his world all at once stopped moving and started spinning too fast. He felt sick.

“Y/n?!” He rounded the corner to the kitchen and saw you on the ground clutching your head. A few mugs were shattered on the floor around you. “What happened?”

“Kyle.” You breathed the moment you opened your eyes to look at him. You stared at him with such relief he felt like he may just collapse next to you. “Uh-I fell.”

“I see that. What were you doing?” He asked while he carefully helped you up and slowly maneuvered you away from the shattered pieces on the ground.

“Well I was just trying to make hot chocolate before you scared the absolute hell out of me.” You winced, one hand still clutching your head where he finally noticed some blood trickling down your wrist. “It’s not my fault you put all the good bugs so high up.”

“Good mugs?” He looked down at the glass and then to the cupboard. “You mean my mugs?”

“They’re the good ones.” You grumbled. “They hold more hot chocolate. I’m sorry for breaking them.”

He couldn’t help but laugh as he pulled your hand away from your head to examine the damage. “I don’t care about the mugs. I can get new ones but it looks like one hit you pretty hard. Let me help you get it cleaned up”

He ushered you towards the counter on the opposite side of the kitchen where he knew he had the med kit stashed. Without saying a word he grabbed hold of your waist and lifted you up to sit on the counter before he went to get the med kit and a washcloth.

“When did you get back?” You called out to him as he ran to the spare closet in the hall to grab one of the many wash clothes.

“Earlier today. I just got back from the bar with Ghost and Soap.” You couldn’t help the way your heart skipped at the mention of a bar. “But I just wanted to come home. I’m sure they’re still there.”

“No pretty ladies you wanted to impress with your amazing new dance skills?” You joked when he came back over to you to start cleaning the blood from your cut.

“Not at the bar, no. There’s one I’ve been trying to impress already.” You swallowed as you watched him work intently. His brows furrowed in concentration. “The cut doesn’t look too bad so you shouldn't need stitches but please if you need something moved from the top shelf just ask me.”

You nodded in acknowledgment and let him continue to work in silence. He was standing between your legs and the only noise was his occasional rummaging through the med kit.

He glanced down at you every now and then but you now seemed determined to not look him in the eye and he couldn’t help but frown.

His fingers work softly across the cut on your head making sure he wasn’t going to hurt you anymore then you already hurt yourself but he couldn’t help the way his mind wandered to ghost and soaps words.

“You okay?” You asked finally when you noticed the way his frown seemed to deepen by the minute.

“Hm?” Immediately he was smiling again and nodding like nothing happened. “Yeah don’t worry. Just focused.”

You hummed in understanding before the silence fell over you again. “Did everything go okay with work? You didn’t get hurt too bad did you?”

He laughed, “unless you count falling out a helicopter as bad then no.” He thought it was funny until he saw the absolute shock on your face and his words seemed to settle over him. “Just kidding. Just kidding that didn’t happen. I’m okay!”

“You fell out of a helicopter?!” You yelled, wincing when you accidentally moved which made his fingers slip against your cut.

“I’m fine! It was a joke I promise.” You didn’t seem to believe him but decided to let it go when he kept insisting. “Everything turned out okay. I'm just happy to be home. They’re all done.”

He moved his hands to rest on the counter you were sitting on, caging you in. He noticed the way your eyes flickered between both of his and he decided for once his team was right. He had to tell you. He didn’t know if he could live another day not knowing if you felt the same way.

“Kyle?” You asked when once again he went silent but this time he had a soft smile on his face while he looked down at you. It made your heart race.

“There’s something I need to tell you.” He said softly, reaching one hand up to move a stray piece of hair behind your ear before bringing it back down to the counter. “I tried to keep it to myself but I don’t think it’s possible for me to do that anymore.”

“Keep what to yourself?” You whispered, heart beating fast when he leaned down a little closer to you.

He looked into your eyes like he was searching for any sort of hesitation, any sort of sign that he should stop or pull back now. But he found none. He leaned in again, the memory of the two of you dancing while also this close came rushing to him again and he smiled slightly. “I think I’m in love with you.”

You looked at him in surprise. It was your turn to search for any sort of lie but you knew Kyle would never lie to you about something like that. “Really?” He nodded and you could feel his lips barely just touch yours before he pulled back a little like he was still waiting for you to reject him. “I think I’m in love with you too.”

And that was all he needed to hear before he closed the distance entirely. His lips finally smashing into yours while one of his hands went up to cup your cheek and the other to your waist to pull you closer to him. You were practically on the very edge of the counter, your legs wrapped around his waist to make sure you didn’t fall off entirely.

He kissed you like he was a starving man deprived of oxygen for the last 2 years. Every emotion he harbored for you was poured into that kiss as his hand tangled itself into the strands of your hair.

His lips felt softer than you imagined and it was better than anything your mind could come up with. Your hands found purchase on his chest as you tried to steady yourself. From this spot you could feel the way his heart was beating just as fast as yours.

When he finally pulled away he didn’t move far. His lips were still just a few centimeters away; he just moved far enough away so you could catch your breathe. He could feel you practically gasping and it made his hands wander to your thighs that were still wrapped around his waist.

He was mesmerized by the way your chest rose and fell with the deep breathes you took. The way your cheeks had the prettiest shade of pink dusting them. The way your eyes continued to look at him like he was the only thing you were seeing.

He was sure he looked the same to you. He knew right then that he would do absolutely anything for you and wouldn’t regret it a single bit.

“Well that’s definitely another way of getting a girl to fall for you.” You joked as you reached your arms up to circle around his neck and pull him closer. “But now you’re not allowed to show anyone else those dance moves.”

“I only ever wanted to learn for you anyways.” He pressed a quick kiss to your lips again. “Would you say you’re impressed?”

“Thoroughly.”

He laughed and pulled away from you after stealing yet another kiss. “Well let me get changed, then clean the glass and I can show you just how much I’ve improved.” He winked you at, smiling when he heard your laughter carry through the apartment

He guessed he owed his entire task force now.

#kyle garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #call of duty x reader #cod x reader #mwii x reader #gaz x reader #kyle garrick imagine

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the-devils-girl94 · 1 year

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Distracting Lips 💋: Lucifer

Summary: Lucifer gets distracted by your lips throughout the day and finally gets to claim them.

Warning: suggestive themes, Lucifer becoming infatuated with your lips, kissing

((This is another series thing I'm doing with my previous post where I do all the brothers and dateables separately. So I hope you guys enjoy this Lucifer goodness because whoo, this one almost got me 🥵.))

It's usually not like Lucifer to be distracted. However, on this particular day, his eyes couldn't seem to look away from your lips. From the moment he woke up to your soft lips on his, he couldn't stop thinking about them. Even now as you lead the conversation in today's meeting, his gaze was transfixed on your glossy lips, taking note of how they formed around certain letters of the alphabet.

He was snapped out of his stupor when Diavolo called his name and realized you've already taken your seat. His face became flushed and he cleared his throat, embarrassed as he heard the snickering of his brothers and the worrying tone of yours and Diavolo's voices. He was so glad that it was towards the end of the meeting.

"If there's nothing else on the agenda, let's end the meeting here," he announced, annoyed at the many whoops that erupted from his brothers as they hurried out of their seats. Lucifer sighed as he fell back in his chair, his hand over his eyes as everyone filed out of the room. All except you.

He felt lips on him once again and looked up to see your smiling face, becoming captivated once again. You were about to ask if he was okay but was cut off as he pulled you into his lap, where he placed his hand under your chin, sweeping his thumb across your bottom lip. You blushed at this.

"I've been thinking about these all day," he said, his eyes half lidded with desire. "Please let me indulge myself, MC."

You chuckled as you figured out that this was what wrong with him. "Ok," you agreed. "Kiss me until you're satisfied then."

You didn't have to tell him twice. His lips were on yours in an instant, dragging you into a passionate kiss that had you reeling. Your back met the cool surface of the meeting table as Lucifer kissed you with such fervor. It wasn't long until air became an urgent need and you pulled away to catch your breath.

But, Lucifer brought you back with a breathless, "Not satisfied yet."

He kissed you again, this time his tongue invading, conquering, dominating the inside of your mouth, causing you to moan.

Who knew that your lips could do this to him?

#obey me #obey me smut #obey me lucifer #lexi writes #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons

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carionto · 4 months

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Do you think aliens would be weirded or freaked out that when we're tickled, it's actually a pain response but laughter (sometimes anger) is the only way we can deal with it? Or that tickling is even a thing?

That startling repeated noise.

Humans often make it, particularly when with other Humans. They say it's generally a reaction to positive emotional and unexpected physical stimulation in certain parts of their bodies. It is quite... disturbing sometimes.

Once a Human asked me to "tickle" them, saying my slender feathery limbs would be a fantastic sensation to experience. They raised their arms up and exposed their bare skin and said: "Go for the sides. My ribs are extra sensitive to that." Hesitantly, I complied.

Upon the lightest touch, they screamed louder than I had ever heard anyone do. It was mortifying, like the death-wail of a raging beast. I instinctively snapped back and my feet jolted me 10 meters away in a second.

The Human kept making this noise for a brief moment, then asked me to come back and continue, saying: "Oh man, I've never felt anything that gently peculiar. It's like a hundred feathers all in one place caressing each individual nerve ending. It's okay, us Humans love laughing like this, it's great."

Despite my initial shock and discomfort at the noise, I decided to comply and "tickle" the Human for a few minutes. It was a rather grueling experience to be honest, but after a short while, seeing more of what their "joy" looks like, I grew accustomed to the noise. Just a little.

"Whoo, damn, that actually tired me out. Haven't had a good laugh like that in a while, thanks for humoring me." The Human said while looking exhausted and catching their breath. I have never seen a Human on this station be physically tired before, even when they run and jump around and recklessly endanger their lives. But a light touch, I barely even had to move, and the Human was all but incapacitated.

"Hey, could you do me a favor? When you go back to your department, give one of the people there a tickle, someone who looks all gloomy or is often complaining about something. They could use a laugh. It won't be as effective through clothing, but trust me, they'll thank you for it. And if they don't just tell them I told you to do it, it'll be fine."

That last phrase raised alarm bells, but the reassurance and how much fun they seemed to have convinced me to accept their request. After all, it is a good thing to spread joy and happiness, so if this is one way I can help out Humans, then I should.

Big mistake.

When I got back and noticed one Human who fit the description, I approached them from behind and tickled the back of their neck, as I was told that is another sensitive spot.

They screamed, turned around and slapped my arm out of the way faster than I could retract it.

The bone is still healing, doctors said it would take a month for all the fractures to fully reconnect and harden, but the nerve connection to my seventh finger was so badly damaged I would never be able to fully extend it again.

I was visited by both Humans who I had "tickled" and the first was in a very apologetic and defeated mood. The other spoke: "I apologize for breaking your arm. I did not mean to. Tickling is one of those things we don't fully understand about ourselves, but it isn't just about having fun and being entertained." This was pointed more to the first Human.

"It's an automatic response, most Humans feel ticklish like this one here, but some, like me, find it painful and our response to external stimuli towards sensitive parts of our bodies is to protect them fiercely, like you had the misfortune of experience for yourself."

"I'll speak to the administration and have them include this in the guidelines for interacting with us Humans. And," turning directly towards the first Human now: "I'll have them include a section for Humans about not teaching our Alien friends to play children's tricks on us." They turned back to me. "Get well soon, and again, sorry about this mess."

#humans are space orcs #humans are space australians #humans are space oddities #humans are deathworlders #carionto #humanity fuck yeah

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dwindlinghaze · 5 months

Text

part i : no one mourns the wicked

(remus lupin x reader, sirius black x reader, soulmate!au)

series masterlist

summary: after the first quidditch match of the school year, sirius and remus became somewhat aware of their feelings towards you.

contents: fluff, really there's no warnings!! the next chapter will be more about them discovering what they feel, this one is just like an orientation of their background.

　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

walking through the halls of hogwarts is usually considered calm and peaceful; wind softly blowing through the creaks on the carved out gothic windows and the rubber soles of shoes padding across the marble floor were the only sound and feel. well, that is, unless it was around a quidditch match.

every semester, the annual quidditch match between the four houses will be held. now stepping a foot in the hall outside a classroom felt incredibly crowded and overwhelming.

a ravenclaw chaser yelling at his beater to put himself up together, first year students who are still questioning what the sport is all about, the gryffindor captain explaining on the tactics of playing. it was chaotic.

"we're going to win this one!" james put his fist up in the air, followed by his teammates who were just as excited as he was. a series of 'whoos' and 'yes' were yelled, bumping their shoulders together.

it was an understatement if you said you weren't ecstatic to see james and sirius playing the match this early october. they were both outstanding quidditch players, they have all your support. speaking of which, remus was still healing from last night's event.

it was a full moon. he woke up this morning, struggling to move from his bed. james and sirius had already assured him that it's completely okay if he missed. but remus was a sweetheart and would never miss his best mates' long-awaited quidditch match. it was all they ever talk about.

"y/n wait up!" remus shouted from behind as he limped to where you were standing.

you reluctantly whipped your head around, steps coming to a halt to wait for your friend. once he was close enough you reached out your hand for him to hold. "sorry remus," you chuckled. "come on, the good seats will be taken if we're slow!"

remus hesitated for a while to hold your inviting hand. he didn't want you to get left behind because of him. you noticed his expression of course, being the observant friend you are. a soft sigh escaped your lips as you squeezed remus' hand, beckoning him that it's okay.

"m'sorry," remus said in embarrassment. realisation hit you when you remembered that last night was a full moon. poor boy he must be struggling to even stand up on his two legs.

to make it clear, you were the first person remus told about his lycanthropy. it didn't happen on purpose though. you happened to be at the hospital wing after remus transformed during second year.

he may or may not had said 'i hate being a werewolf' way to loud. loud enough for you to hear when you couldn't sleep from your painful sickness.

twelve year old remus with his heightened wolf senses seemed to hear your little gasp. he panicked, hating the way he was so careless, not making sure there are no one in the wing first before he spoke such things.

however, his worry came to an end when you said that you won't say anything about his condition to a single soul ever. since then, you and remus became close friends. after a few months he introduced you to the marauders and you befriended them also.

a warm smile spread across your lips, "s'okay remus," you said softly, "i'm sure there will be seats left for us. how can i help hm?"

remus shook his head, "never mind that, you can go up there before me and save a seat for us yeah?" he really didn't want you to have a view of heads while watching your best friends' first match of the year.

you couldn't leave him though. he looked sick and fragile after this particular full moon so you insisted on sticking with him just in case the pain was too much to handle. "who will help you climb that hundreds of stairs up the stands?" you joked earning a tired smile from him.

you helped him climb up the flight of stairs. it was slow, remus groaning each time he pulled a muscle. nevertheless, you both made it up. you beamed once you saw a perfect spot right behind the fences.

"perfect view," you said to him. the match has already started unfortunately, but you both were lucky enough to arrive right on time as to see james chasing after the snitch.

"look at siri's hair," you said in awe, nudging remus on his elbow.

"good hair is it?" he replied, eyes locking on sirius' beautiful, long, shiny hair. it still looked gorgeous even when he's sweating from head to toe, even after the wind blew his hair back.

"he has nice hair," you smiled coyly. remus looked away, feeling a weird sensation down his stomach. his hand went up to touch his messed up hair, insecurity washing over him knowing that his hair is not even half as good looking as sirius'. he never felt this way before. he couldn't be jealous, for you weren't his and sirius is his best friend.

"your hair is also very beautiful," you said. it's true. remus may not have long silky jet black hair like sirius but his hair is full and fluffy. you touched it once when you were taking out a piece of dirt, his hair is in fact very soft.

remus mumbled a small 'thank you', eyes glued to his shoes. it was not a rare occasion for you to compliment him. you always say how smart he is or how he looks more than good after a rough transformation. your compliments always leave him a mushy mess. he can't deny, he loves it. it's quite rare for him to have someone saying nice things about himself.

that weird feeling appeared again when you laughed and clapped your hands to sirius when he did a flip with his broomstick.

maybe it's the way you smile, that very smile that makes his heart felt at ease. maybe it's the way you didn't see him in any other way when he told you he's a werewolf. maybe it's the way you were so eye catching yet you never let anyone felt less.

there are so many things running through his head.

"gryffindor has won the 1976th quidditch match!" the bombing voice from the loud speaker has made its way to your ears, breaking remus' train of thoughts. you gasped as you took remus arms, "they did it!"

and just like that, you had left remus on his own up at the quidditch stand. he didn't blame you for leaving him though, of course you wanted to congratulate your friends down at the pitch after their win.

he waited until the students has all gone before he made his way down the tenths of stairs. now that you weren't here, it is hard for him to not feel a pain every time he bent his knees to step down. aching with every step, he met you halfway with your arms linking around sirius'. the sight giving remus a pain under his ribcage.

"moony!" sirius yelled and hugged him. "we won we won we won!"

"congratulations pads," remus said as he smiled into the hug. the long haired lad may or may not hugged him way to harsh. "ow padfoot," remus hissed as he pulled away, reaching for his scapula to soothe the pain sirius gave.

"sorry moons," sirius grinned. "gotta go now, have a blast you two!" he then skipped happily to the gryffindor's quidditch team on the other end of the hall, receiving congratulations and compliments from the people around.

your arm circled around remus' torso, saying that he can lean to you if the ache was too much. he didn't though, he doesn't want to look more pathetic than he already has. besides, who was he to get such treatment?

with the new found feelings remus discovered, he couldn't get you out of his mind. now everything that you do is mesmerising to him. you picking up a a piece of bread and spread it with butter, you furrowing your brows to focus while reading a letter from your dad, you pursing your lips in disapproval when james made a nasty remark about a third year.

remus noticed everything now. it felt like he was looking through a telescope but the only object there to see is you. only you.

sirius was sprawled on the red cushion sofa, legs dangling from the arm rest. he was talking to james and the other teammates over and over about their win. all of them were so happy and proud, after years of losing they can finally get that golden trophy.

sirius' eyes traveled to the common room's door where it flung open revealing you and remus laughing together as they stepped in. the two of you talked like you were the only person existed in the world.

the raven haired boy narrowed his eyes at the two of you, a sinking feeling in his stomach. he knew how much you enjoy spending your time with remus, but he couldn't help wishing it was him instead.

he recalled the amount of times when remus cried on your shoulder after a full moon, but then he remembered the amount of times you hugged him tightly when he received another howler from his mother.

you study with remus but you also help sirius do pranks. you always buy remus a bunch of chocolate but you also buy him a lot of things from zonko's joke shop.

sirius' was equally in the same spot as remus.

that left him at ease because he might have a silly crush on you. sure they were sixteen and mature but when it comes to romance they were just like twelve year olds.

"hey guys over here," james put his hands in the air, motioning for you and remus to come over.

"won't we be interrupting?" you joked as you dragged remus along to sit down at the empty sofa. half of the quidditch team had already left to clean themselves.

"nope. did you see me when i caught that snitch? gosh i was so cool. is there any possibility that lily saw me?" james asked, looking at you with pleading eyes.

you hesitated before answering. you didn't want to be the cause of his happiness coming to an end but you didn't see lily anywhere either. "i didn't see lily but i'm sure she saw you james, you were incredible."

"i know right? i better take a shower so when lilypad sees me, i will be fresh and handsome," he winked before jumping up from his seat on the way to the loo.

you conjured a cold towel and threw it to sirius, "you look like you ... are sweltering," you said, seeing his heated face from the adrenaline.

"whoa-" he sighed, placing the towel over his head as he leaned back to the sofa. "how did you-"

"witchcraft," you replied simply.

sirius lips turned into an 'o' as he closed his eyes in delight, feeling the cold sensation travelling through his hot skin. "why is it called witchcraft, why is there no wizardcraft..."

you scoffed, "there's a term called 'wizardry',"

sirius took a peek in between the fold of his towel to look over at his tall friend who has been real quiet. he saw how remus was looking at you like you were the one winning the quidditch match. "is moony staring at you the result of witchcraft too?"

hearing this, you turned your head swiftly to see the boy sitting next to you. you made an eye contact but not long before remus cheeks reddened as he looked away, eyes landing hard on his lap. before remus can make a lame excuse or before you can come up with a remark to leave remus alone, sirius had already stood from the carpet.

"i'm taking a shower, it's getting hot in here," he joked before running up the stairs. truth be told, he hated the way you and remus looked at each other. eyes soft and cheeks red. he can't control the jealousy from rising up by seeing you and remus together.

#remus lupin x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin x reader fluff #sirius black fluff #sirius black imagine #sirius black fanfiction

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