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#but i need someone to look at me a know im not okay
rafeandonlyrafe · 2 days
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executive orders
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words: 3.8k
warnings: 18+ only, ceo!rafe, assistant!reader, mean!rafe but equally mean!reader lol, p in v sex, unprotected sex, pretend marriage (like fake dating but fake marriage hehe)
“so…” the woman says, heels clicking down the pristine hallway as you quickly follow. “as you were told in the interview process, mr. cameron is a very particular man. as his personal assistant, your focus is more on his well-being than the business.”
“okay, i understand.” you nod. you find the whole thing odd. the interview process where you didn't actually meet the man you'd be the personal assistant to. his semi nondescript job. ceo. of some company named after him, but you don't know the specifics on what his role actually includes.
“just know…” she pauses outside of the large door leading into the room. “this isn't going to be an easy job. it's why you're making a lot of money.”
“okay.” you say again. the more you learn, the more concerned you are, but you're willing to try, even if just for one day.
“and you're paid for through the cfo. mr. cameron does not have firing rights no matter what he says.”
you're not sure what she means, but it becomes very apparent when the moment you step through the door, the man you presume to be mr. cameron let's out a growl.
“serena, i told you i don't need a fucking babysitter!” you turn around, but the door has already been shut behind you. you can hear serenas heels clicking quickly down the hallway. you had completely forgotten her name in the stress of your first day, but you commit it to memory before turning to the ceo.
“hello, sir.” you say quietly. “im y/n.”
“i don't need you.” he grunts out before focusing on his computer, typing rather angry and aggressively. you stand frozen, waiting.
“i said i don't need you. leave. you're fired.” mr. cameron says.
“i um… i don't think you can fire me. sorry, sir.”
his fingers pause as he looks up at you, seeming to finally really see you as his eyes move down then back up your body. you weren't sure what to wear so you're dressed in a black work dress with long sleeves and a pair of flats. under his watchful eye, you wish you would have worn something less form fitting.
“i hate being called sir.” he says.
“okay, mr. cameron then.” you take a few shuffling steps forward.
“rafe.” he shakes his head. “just rafe. mr. cameron is my fucking dad and he's dead.”
your instinct is to say sorry for his loss, but you can't find the words, which ultimately seems to be the right thing as rafe hums then turns back to his computer screen.
you watch him work for a few minutes, occasionally looking around the sparsely decorated office. you swear every time you look away, rafes eyes move up to look at you, but by the time your gaze travels back to him, he's back typing on his computer.
“goddamn it.” he groans out. “don't just stand there all day. if you're gonna be here and i can't fire you, you might as well sit down.”
“oh!” it takes you a minute to realize he's talking to you as his eyes don't stray away from the screen, but then you're quickly moving to sit on the chair positioned on the other side of his desk.
you sit again, watching rafe, watching the clock, watching the view out the window. “what would you like for lunch, si-rafe?”
“whatever.” he waves his hand. “it's not your job to get it. someone will bring lunch to us.”
“oh.” you nod, becoming increasingly more aware that you're not really sure what your job is.
just like rafe said, someone brings in lunch at exactly 12:30, one tray for you and one for rafe.
when he closes his computer, you think that now will finally be the time to talk, but he eats in silence. “so-”
“no small talk.” rafe says. “i hate that shit.”
“well, what is it you'd like me to do then? just sit here? at least give me a task.”
“fine.” rafe grunts out. “when you're finished eating you can read through this report.” he tosses a thick three ringed binder onto the desk in front of you.
“fine.” you argue back, quickly scarfing down your food before grabbing the binder. 
you read through the report. you have no clue what the numbers mean, but you do find a couple punctuation mistakes and highlight them. rafe seems surprised you have any notes at all, his eyebrows raising when you grab the marker from his desk.
“there.” you place the binder down once you reach the last page. its tedious work, but at least it's something other than utter silence.
“great.” rafe takes the binder and tosses it into the trash can. 
“hey!”
“those were numbers from four years ago.” you can see the smirk on rafes features, his amusement at getting you to do something completely pointless.
“you're a real dick, you know?” you say, blurting the words out before you can think of the consequences, it's not like you want to keep the job anyways.
rafe sits silently, but his eyes are on you, hands frozen as you continue on.
“you should hear the way people talk about you. everyone is afraid of you, which you may think makes you a macho boss, but it just makes you a shitty guy to work for. no wonder you have to pay everyone two times more than any other company around here, they need that for putting up with your rudeness.” you rant, suddenly sucking in air as your words come to an end.
“it's 5pm. done for the day. ill walk you out.” rafe stands, but you move quicker, pushing the doors open and leaving him to walk behind.
you stop when you see serena and the cfo quietly chatting. you open your mouth to say you quit when rafe speaks from behind you.
“i like this one. make sure she's here tomorrow by 9am.”
you turn and look to him, but he's already walking away.
--
you weren't planning on showing back up, but serena is a convincing woman.
“good morning, rafe.” you place a drink carrier down onto the corner of his desk, plucking out your mocha before schooching the rest towards him. “i didn't know what you like. i got a hot black coffee, a caramel frappe and the a cappuccino.”
rafe stares at the drinks before picking up the frappe. you smile, you should have predicted that despite his hard exterior, rafe liked a sweet drink.
serena gave you the company card, saying to use it for any and all expenses, even grocery's or home decor, she didn't care, as long as you entered the building by 9 am tomorrow.
“i know you hate small talk, but you'll have to get over it. what does this company even do?” you take a sip of your mocha, the taste chocolatey on your tongue.
“we are a development company. real estate all across the world. we also manage construction.”
“oh.” you frown. “that's more boring than i thought.”
rafe let's out a soft chuckle, pleasant sounding to your ears.
“everything just seems so secretive.” you shrug.
“i think they didn't want you to know a lot in case you turned down the job. you're the longest an assistant has lasted.”
“and what…” you lean in, ignoring that it's only your second day. “exactly am i supposed to do?”
“just… keep me in check.” rafe shrugs. “i have a tendency to get angry. bad news will get passed through you. you're here to be a sounding board, where i can vent and bounce ideas off of.”
“i make 100k a year for that?” you scoff.
“i think 50 of that is just for dealing with me.” 
you laugh along with rafe. maybe you'll end up lasting an entire week.
-- two months later --
“are you free this weekend?” rafe asks.
“uh, yeah, why?” you question. you've learned rafe likes when you stand up to him, speak your mind and not let him push you around like he does everyone else. he's come to respect you for it, and it's made work much easier.
“im needed in new york city. id like for you to come with me. as my assistant.”
“sure, ill start looking for hotels.” you open up your laptop.
“spare no cost. i want somewhere nice.”
you roll your eyes dramatically. “of course you do.”
you already knew to look only at 5 star hotels, the most expensive of the lot. despite the short notice, you find two connecting suites that will work for you and rafe.
“and how are we getting there?” you ask. “want me to talk to jeffery about taking the private jet?”
“yup, i want to fly into laguardia, not jfk.”
“got it.” you nod, finding the correct number in your phone before stepping out to talk. you confirm all the details, jotting down times in the notes app on your phone.
you stop by after the phone call to update serena of your plans, learning she's a secretary of sort for the whole company, really the number two right behind rafe.
“hey girl.” you smile. “heading to nyc with mr. cameron for the weekend.”
“oh, good.” she sighs happily. “he's been needing to go out there.”
“yeah.” you shrug. “if you say so!” you keep yourself firmly out of the business side, just like she told you your first day here.
“make sure you do something fun while you're there too. while he's in meetings you could see times square, or check out central park.”
“i definitely will! i want to see the cherry blossoms if they're still in bloom.”
“sounds fun.” serena nods before her desk phone begins to read. “sorry, gotta get this.”
“see ya.” you wave as you walk back to rafes office.
“all good?” he questions.
“laguardia, just as you want.” you smile, sitting back at your upgraded chair.
“don't know what id do without ya.” rafe says.
“don't be nice to me.” you scrunch your name up. “it's weird.”
--
“how were the cherry blossoms?” rafe asks.
“most of them still in bloom, actually.” you say with a soft smile. you ended up taking a lot of pictures along with exploring the rest of the park.
“nice.” he hums. “did you bring an evening dress?”
“no. and you didn't tell me i was supposed to.” you say.
“well… i would appreciate it if you joined me at dinner tonight. it's with a very important client who um… may be under the impression that im traveling with my wife.”
“your- your wife?” your eyes widen. “you want me to lie about being your wife?”
“just for tonight. id really appreciate it.” rafe looks at you with a softness in his eyes. “please.”
“okay… but i don't have an evening gown… or anything fancy.” 
“let me take you shopping then.” rafe pulls out his phone. “there's got to be a nice store near us.”
you place your hand on top of rafes phone. “ill find a place.”
you end up finding a formal store only a couple blocks away. you decide to walk, rafe keeping close to you, glaring at anyone who even glances at you for too long.
you make it to the store without any interruptions, and rafe quickly points out the kinds of dresses that will fit the restaurant before standing back to let you choose.
“you wanna watch me try them on, husband?” you ask rafe, following the associate with an armful of dresses back towards the private changing rooms.
“of course.” rafe follows behind you, eyes glancing down your figure. he can't wait to see you in a gorgeous fitted dress.
when you step out in the first dress, rafe swears he feels his heart skip a beat. “you're getting that one.”
“you sure?” you look in the mirror, twirling around to look at the dropped back. “i don't know if this color looks good on me.”
“it looks good on you.” rafe says. “but by all means, try on more. ill buy you multiple.”
rafe ends up buying you every single dress you try on except for one that's too loose and doesn't fit well. you insist you only need one, but you're not going to argue with your boss wanting to spend money on you.
you end up choosing the first one you tried on to go to the dinner with rafe. your hands shake slightly, not sure what to expect. rafe sees it, hesitating before wrapping your hand in his.
“it'll be fine. you can just… just be quiet for the most part. ill do all the talking.”
“okay.” you squeeze his hand back, not used to the physical contact with rafe, but finding it surprisingly comfortable.
you follow him into the restaurant, everyone else dressed to the nines, perfect hair and makeup on the women, the men with the shiniest shoes. “it's really beautiful in here.” you whisper.
“wait till you taste the food… wifey.” rafe says, making you both laugh.
“ah, mr. and mrs. cameron.” the man says in a slightly accented voice as you both shake his hand, as well as the associate next to him. “so glad to meet the both of you. we appreciate getting into business with a true family man.”
“of course.” you smile, putting on your best acting performance. “we are so excited to start our family soon.”
“we must see the wedding photos. my wife-” the man puts a proud hand on his chest. “is a wedding dress designer.”
“oh.” you frown. “i would love to show you, but we haven't gotten them back yet.” you smile at rafe. “we’re newlyweds.”
“ah, cheers to the beginning of a lovely marriage then.” he raises his glass to clink with the others at the table.
“please, kiss! you must after a toast.” the associate says.
you turn to rafe, glancing down to look at his lips. it would totally give you away to refuse, so you take a deep breath and lean into in, pressing your lips together in a quick kiss. it lasts only a moment, but you swear you feel a spark, a tug to continue kissing him.
rafe doesn't bring it up until later, as your riding the elevator back up to your hotel room. “you did great. im sorry about the kiss.”
“it wasn't bad.” you giggle softly, slightly drunk on the wine that was served.
“im glad you think that.” rafe smiles softly. “you'll make a wonderful wife to a very lucky man someday.”
“maybe we could…” you swallow harshly, the alcohol encouraging your words you know you shouldn't say. “maybe we could keep pretending. just for tonight. and then when we get back to the office things can be back to normal.”
“and what does continuing to pretend to be husband and wife entail?” rafe questions, taking a step closer to you.
“more kissing. more… more.”
rafes lips are against yours suddenly, ignoring the elevator doors sliding open in favor of his mouth pushing against yours, lips gliding harshly over each others. the kiss is the exact opposite of the restaurant, whereas it was quick and innocent, this kiss is full of fire and passion.
the elevators slide shut and begin to head back down to the lobby. “shit.” rafe groans against your lips, jamming the button towards your floor. “sorry baby.”
“just… keep kissing me until someone gets in.” rafe listens to your pleas, kissing you until the elevator comes to a halt. even then, he doesn't move far away, keeping himself stood possessively over you, your back against the elevator wall.
you smile awkwardly at the three men who enter before turning your face into rafes chest, focused on the hand that has slipped around your waist. 
the elevator stops and the three men get off. the second it's moving again, rafe is back kissing you, stumbling out when your doors open as to not make the same mistake as last time.
“shit.” rafe groans, having to fumble in his pocket to get the key card for the door.
you let out a soft giggle, pressing kisses to his neck and jaw until the door swings open and you're able to step in the room.
“are you sure?” rafe asks, closing and locking the door behind you.
“im sure.” you nod. “this is just… pretend. let's do what husbands and wives do.”
rafe moves you towards the bed, backing you up until you sit down on the plush spread, decorated exactly like yours in the connecting room, but this bedding still smells like rafe from the night before.
he sinks to his knees, such a strong, dominant man on the floor for you as he takes off your heels, carefully slipping them off your soles before setting them to the side.
“thank you.” you say softly. rafe looks up at you before leaning forward, pushing the slit of your dress open to press kisses to your knees, and then thighs, moving up until the dress no longer allows him to.
“i need you to take this off.” he says roughly.
you nod, shifting yourself to stand as rafe also rises. you turn your back to him, his hands moving to your waist before moving up until he's cupping your chest over the shiny material.
“rafe-” you gasp out as he squeezes, his large palms enveloping your entire breast.
rafe holds his hands there for a moment longer before moving them to your back, unzipping your dress and watching it fall to the floor. you're in just a small pair of lingerie, having bought it for yourself yesterday in a boutique.
“shit.” rafe curses again. “you're… you're so beautiful.”
you turn around to kiss him again, his hands now against your bare skin as he explores, moving all along your sides and back.
your own hands get busy as well, fingers deftly unbuttoning his shirt until you can push it off his shoulders. you pull away to see his muscles, hints of which you've seen when he's rolled up his sleeves or wore a tighter than normal shirt, but now you can finally really see and appreciate them.
“lay down, please.” rafe says.
you move to lay on his bed, head resting against the pillows as rafe crawls over your body. his mouth finds yours again as his hand delves under your back to unhook your bra. he pulls it away from your body as his lips leave yours.
he's only off your skin for a moment before his mouth is wrapped around your nipple, tongue swirling around in circles as his hand holds your other breast.
“oh, shit.” it's your turn to curse as your eyes squeeze closed, hand coming to the back of rafes head, feeling his short hair as he sucks on your nipple before kissing all over the swell of your breast. he switches sides, wanting to taste all of you.
you lift your hips when his hand grabs onto your underwear, allowing him to pull it all the way down until you kick it off the bed. rafe pulls away to look between your legs, letting out a soft moan when you part your thighs and he can see how wet you already are.
“beautiful.” he says, eyes closing like it's too much to look at you as his hand skirts down your stomach before finding your wetness, finger circling around your entrance before gently pushing in.
“kiss me, please.” you take rafes face in your hands, guiding your mouths back together as his finger carefully thrusts in and out. he slowly increases the speed until you're whining against his lips for more.
rafe twists his hand so his thumb can rub over your clit as you let out a moan, hips pressing up, seeking more.
“i need you.” rafe pulls his hand away. “i need you so bad.”
you nod quickly, giving him one more quick kiss before he pulls away to take off his pants and underwear. you bite your lip once hes completely nude, his cock standing tall and hard away from his body. you want to taste him, want to see what it feels like to have his cock sit heavy on your tongue, but you need him inside of you more.
“i have a condom somewhere…” he looks around.
“you don't need to wear one. I'm on birth control.” you can feel your cheeks blush just at the suggestion. “it's… it's not what a husband and wife would do.”
“okay.” rafe doesn't need any more convincing, crawling back over your body. “do you want me like this?”
you flip over quickly so you're on top, rafes back now pressed into the mattress. you grab onto his cock, giving him a few quick strokes before you line him up with your cunt, sinking down with a synchronous moan.
you keep your eyes on rafes face as you begin to move, hips grinding up and then back, your hands sat firmly on his chest to help you move.
you're able to grind your clit down against his skin every time you sink fully down, just adding to the pleasure. he's stretching you out in the most pleasurable way, just enough to feel it without being painful.
“so fucking beautiful.” rafe says, reaching up to hold onto your tits as they bounce with your body.
you put all your energy into riding him, knowing this might be your only chance to, but hoping it's not, hoping you can feel him inside of you again.
“i- baby.” rafe grunts out, hands moving down to your hips. he helps you move as your legs quickly tire, not used to this position.
“you feel so good.” you whine out eyes sliding shut as rafes hips begin to push up, lifting you with every thrust, spearing his cock even further into you.
“im-im close.” you admit with a gasp, his cock hitting your sweet spot every time.
“cum for me baby, please.” rafe moves one of his hands to your lower stomach, thumb reaching down to rub over your clit.
you cry out, back arching as you instantly cum, not needing any more stimulation as your body shakes before flopping forward, falling against rafes chest.
he gives you a minute, as long as he can hold back before flipping you onto your back. it takes him only a few thrusts to cum inside of you, filling you up to the brim.
rafe flops down next to you, both breathing heavily, skin sheened in sweat.
you wait for a moment. to see if he's going to say anything. when he doesn't, you scooch closer to him, placing your hand on his cheek and bringing him in for a kiss, not yet done pretending.
-- four years later --
“you remember the first time we came here?” rafe asks, stepping into the restaurant with his hand wrapped around yours. it's redecorated some, but is still familiar.
“how could i forget.” you smile at him. “where i first pretended to be your wife.”
“well, at least you don't have to pretend anymore,” rafe says, swiping his thumb over the diamond ring on your finger “mrs. cameron.”
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fuck-customers · 2 days
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today, mar 25 2024, a woman came into my red hardware store and dumped her bag of returns on my counter. she said "i have a fucking return. it's all coming the fuck back. i don't need any of this fucking stuff" and i was instantly on edge because she's being loud and every other word was another f-bomb. and i GET IT i get swearing, i get being angry, but why the hell are you upset with me lol i looked at the pile of stuff and was like "oh did you buy this yesterday?" because i recognized the pile of items as things that i had personally rung up at some point. it's a bunch of electrical stuff like outlet covers and some solenoids or wtv. but god i shouldn't've said anything. because she snaps "No what the fuck. i bought this fucking weeks ago. and i dont fucking need it. so i'm returning it"
and i'm like.. damn ok, fine. she's digging for receipts. and has a huge stack of Orange Hardware store receipts. and i'm watching her flip through them and she snaps "go ahead and grab yours if you recognize it!" and i'm like 'uh.. ok i'm pretty sure that my store's receipt is this one' and i pointed at one (idk if its just the font but i recognized my store's receipt and yoinked it out.
so i start processing her return. she's like "ugh i need to go get my card from the car!" and i'm like ok, that's fine. she doesn't really need it for the return but 1) i want her to get away from me because i'm gonna call a manager she's being such an asshole. 2) her friend was looking for other stuff to buy.
she comes back in with her card. i'm like scanning and returning the items. 3 items i KNOW are NOT ours are on the pile. im like.. i don't want to deal with her trying to insist that they belong to our store. but i scan one. it beeps 'item not found' i go 'oh well these items aren't from our store, sorry i can't return them"
and she's like "i dont see how that's fucking possible! everything in that bag is from this fucking store!" and she's just absolutely shrieking. and i don't understand why she's mad, like i don't get it. the manager came up and was like 'we don't sell this product. sorry we can't do a return on it.'
she screams some more but accepts that they must be Orange Hardware and not Red Hardware. She goes out to "make a call while her friend shops"
and i swear to god that she was screaming at someone on the phone for next fourteen minutes and everyone inside the store could hear her from the parking lot. every other word out of this woman's mouth was "fuck" and it was setting my nerves on edge.
her friend finally came up to buy his shit. and it totals $77. she's standing at the door handing him her visa and she is PISSED that the total is $77. she says she doesn't understand how it could add up to that much. and im like uhmmmm.. they're plumping parts.. and the stupid toys you're buying for your grandkids pushed the total to $77 after tax.. either buy it or leave. i don't care
she ended up buying it but you could still hear her swearing up and down the parking lot as she was screaming on the phone with her mother (apparently) saying that she was going to need to be reimbursed for the shit she was buying
and i'm just like... goddamn, i dont care how awful your day is. don't take it out on employees or customers you asshat.
the only funny part about this is the fact that her name was actually Karen. which just made me laugh. but all the other staff had come up to the front to make sure i was okay while she was yelling. and she did get intimidated by some of the men and slink out while her friend paid for the stuff. but still.. a big yikes.
Posted by admin Rodney.
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last-starry-sky · 3 days
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Simon constantly teases you about how short/small you are. It upsets you, makes you feel singled out, weak, incompetent. Turns out he’s just dying to know how well you can fit him, how big his cock would look next to your hands and feet. Won’t shut up about it during sex either. A dash of mean Simon + his untapped size kink
eeeeee im gonnafuckining explode OKAY FOR REAL I WAS DYING WHEN I SAW THIS. thank u, beautiful, patient anon, for blessing me with this prompt!! I hope I did it justice!
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ghost x petite!f!military!reader
(MDNI - NSFW uhhhh grossly inaccurate military stuff, creeper, bully simon :), i’m using “petite” as in “shorter and smaller than the average woman” trying to keep everything as open and vague as possible, oral, deep throating, ghost has a raging size kink, unprotected piv, also this is LONG (5.6k) 💀 i'm sorry!!! skip to the end for smut if that's all you want!❤️) 
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It’s been the same fucking comments from your lieutenant all week. Day in, day out and it’s starting to wear a sore spot into your hardened skin. 
“Muzzle up. Arms tired already? ‘s a big rifle for someone your size to carry.”
“Keep pace with the group. Your short legs aren’t their problem.”
“Shoulders back! Chest out! Some’ve y’ need all the height you can get!”
All you can do is grit out a “yes, sir” or “no, sir” and push yourself even harder to keep up with the taller and stronger men and women around you. The massive Brit in charge is running your training group. While you expected this to be hard (your CO hadn’t been mincing words when he pitched it as “advanced”) but you never expected this. 
First of all, from the very beginning, he seemed to have a problem with you. Only you. There were a handful of women in the group, but you were unfortunately the shortest and smallest. Not that it bothered you. You’d spent your whole life this size. You were used to it. It was everyone else, especially the wanna-be, alpha males that flocked to the military like flies, that gave you grief over it.
The second you all lined up off the transport, you could feel his eyes on you. You tried not to stare back while the other Brit, Captain Price, gave a short introductory talk. You hadn’t heard a word of it. He stood there, flanking the captain, in a black, skin tight t shirt, with his obscenely muscled arms crossed over his ridiculously broad chest. A buzzing filled your ears as his black eyes bored into you. His stare so hot and heavy it made you sweat. His eyes were all of his face that he left uncovered, the rest was hidden by a skull mask and balaclava. You tried to ignore him, but you swore you saw the ink on his arm flexing as the captain introduced him: Lt. Ghost.
From the first training exercise, a simple one on one spar, he pulled you of all people from the women’s group to demonstrate on. What could you do? Refuse? He had at least a foot and close to one hundred pounds of muscle on you. You tried not to shake as you squared up at the opposite end of the mat. 
He told you to rush him, to “show him what you got”. Well, you tried. Once he gave signal to start, all you could do was try to fake him out. You ran at him before quickly darting to the side, trying to get behind him using your short stature to your advantage. Unfortunately for you, he was crazy agile for a large guy. He pivoted on his foot, watching you as you tried to fade to his left. You steeled yourself when he caged you in his arms, sweeping your feet off the mat. Your world was a blur until he slammed you roughly down onto the mat. Your breath was knocked from you, your vision spinning. You heard the crowd around you let out a collective “OH”. It took you a moment to realize he had you pinned. Your legs and hands held painfully down with his own. 
“‘sat all y’ got? Givin’ up already?” he grunted out with a gravely laugh while he stared down at you. He leaned down until his chest was pressed to yours, that stupid mask just grazing your face. “Or y’ got some fight left in y’? 
Hell yeah you still had some fight in you. You managed to slip out one leg from under him, jamming your knee quickly into his side. A kidney hit was dirty, you knew that. You wouldn’t dream of doing it in a normal spar, against an evenly matched partner, but he deserved it for picking on you; for picking a woman when he could have easily dominated any of the men in the room. He reacted exactly as you expected: crumpling forward in pain. You didn’t waste a second pulling your hands and legs from his grip. Another cry rang out from the crowd when you rolled out from under him, ready to jump on his back and make the pin.
“Olright, olright,” he said rubbing at his side, sitting up with a grunt before you could pin him. “I yield, y’ cheatin’ lil’ git. Next up.” 
He pointed at one of the other soldiers to come forward and take your place. The man gave you a fist bump as you left the mat and you told him “good luck”. You knew he would need it. When you turned around you saw that Ghost’s gaze had never left you. 
-
You walked back to base on Friday with your blood boiling, failure weighing heavy on your psyche after a long, hot afternoon of sniper training. You had given all you could; had put up with extra hard, extra long training, with comment after comment about your size and strength. 
Shorty. Shrimp. Rifle looks like it weights more than you. Gonna manage that?
Up early, in late everyday, almost too tired to eat and shower by the end. You had a mind to march right into Price’s office and tell him you were leaving that night. You’d made it a week, that was good enough for you. You would rather face hell from your CO back home than endure another hour of this. The second you sat down on your bunk, however, you passed out.
The exhaustion must have snapped something in your brain. You woke up a few hours later groggy and sweaty, your bunk mate snoring away. You were half on your bed with your feet still in your boots. You rolled onto your back with a groan, wiping the dried tears and dust from your cheeks. 
You let your weak arms fall over your face. You felt pathetic. You honestly wanted to just lay on your thin mattress and cry in the dark until the day started. Another day of enduring that British cunt with a superiority complex calling you short and weak, of singling you out in front of your peers, of making you question your career up to this point. He was eroding the very core of your person at this point, and you didn’t know how much long you could take it. 
You let out a sigh and, with more than a little effort, pull your sore, battered body out of bed. What you really needed was to shower, to think this out, and then find Captain Price to talk. No good would come from rushing into a decision in this state. 
You enjoyed your shower. It was nice to have all of the hot water and the whole communal space to yourself. You took your time getting dressed back into your rumbled clothes in the empty locker room. Nothing but the sound of dripping water echoing off the tile around you. 
Leaving the showers, you looked up and down the bare corridors, only enough of the overhead fluorescents left on to avoid a safety hazard. Your hair dripped onto your shoulders while you stood in the center of the hall. Price’s office had to be somewhere around here.
You wandered out of the barracks, down hall after hall of the same, painted block walls and plain tile floors, until you started seeing name plates posted haphazardly on the wooden doors. Your eyes wandered from door to door until you found what you were looking for: a sheet of 8.5x11 paper taped crookedly outside an office with Cpt. Price scrawled across the middle.
You let out a sigh of relief as you brought up your hand to knock on the door. It was almost over. The captain seemed like a reasonable man. He would surely be willing to listen to you, maybe give you some sound advice on whether you were actually cut out for this level of training. Before your hand could land on the door, a gloved hand came out from the shadows of the hall in front of you to rest above yours.
“What’re you doin’ here?” he whispered harshly.
You didn’t even need to look up to know who it was. You closed your eyes in annoyance, balling your hands at your sides. Of fucking course he was here. Right at the last hurdle. Right before you could seek relief from a superior, his superior too. You let out a long breath through your nose before you opened your eyes to face him.
“I came to talk to Captain-” you started speaking with a wavering voice before he cut you off.
“Not in. Not yet, at least. Had a long night.” 
He leaned against the door, starting down at you again. God, he fucking annoyed you. You’d never had a CO that frayed at your nerves like he did. How dare he come off so cool, gripping his oversized biceps with his stupid skeleton gloves. 
You stepped back from the door. “I’ll come back when he’s in then. Sorry-”
“Can help you if you need somethin’” he interrupted you again, casually canting his hips forward, moving his hand to the door handle. 
You shook you head. While you really wanted to give him a piece of your mind, you would prefer not ending this with a disciplinary, so you bit your tongue. 
“I don’t need anything from you,” you answered with just a bit of venom.
He heard it, you were sure of it. He clicked the door open, letting it fall open to reveal the dark room inside. 
“No. I think you do, small-stuff.” When you didn’t make a move, just let another angry breath out your nose and furrow your brow deeper, he shifted to the side and pointed inside the room. “In. Now. That’s an order.”
You clenched your teeth and did as you were told. Not that you had an option now. 
-
You walked up to the desk at the back of the room. Price sure did keep his office in a state. Papers and folders were piled across his desk. A landline phone and old desktop computer were shoved to either corner of the desk. More folders and binders piled over the keyboard and hid the keypad of the phone. You heard Ghost’s boots squeak lightly on the tile behind you, then the door shut with a click. Another, soft click followed. He flipped the light switch, illuminating the spot right above you with hazy, yellow light. 
You turned to face the man who’d gone out of his way to made himself your nemesis for the past week. He silently sauntered up to you, stopping behind one of the chairs in front of the desk. You crossed your arms defensively over your chest and tried to make your face placid while he pulled the chair out. He took a seat, well, he tried too. He could barely fit his massive fame in the little chair. It groaned underneath him as he mirrored your pose, arms crossed and legs spread. 
You sat silently staring at each other before he asked, “Well?” with a roll of his shoulders. 
You picked over your words, trying to detangle everything you had thought up in the shower. Ghost bouncing his knee pulled you back to reality. It was like the threatening hiss of a rattlesnake's tail. Better to just get it out than keep him waiting.
“Do you have a problem with me?” you squeaked out, eyes on you boots. The direct route it was, then. 
“What?” he asked, confused.
You looked up at him, exhausted, eyes pleading. “Look, I know I’m short and not as strong as the other guys . . . especially the guys, but the way you talk to me-”
“Don’t have a problem with y’,” he said throwing his arm across the back of the chair, readjusting while he raked his eyes up and down your frumpy form. Probably looking for something to complain about. “If’m bein’ honest-” he started before cutting himself off and turning his head. 
You uncrossed your arms, letting them fall to your sides. “What . . .” you questioned, gesturing with your hands in front of you. “Then why do you-”
He jiggled his knee a few more times before turning back to face you. “Little thing like you,” he said darkly, so deep and low you almost didn’t hear it. He clenched his fingers on his pants as he cleared his throat. “You keep up with the rest’ve ‘em well enough. Ain’t got a problem.”
“Little thing,” you whispered, repeating him sarcastically. 
Ghost groaned at that. Honest to god groaned in front of you, sending a shiver up your spine. You froze as his heavy eyes found their way back to you. 
“Yeah. You sure are,” he said scraping his fingers down his pants. “Spunky, too. Used t’ fightin’ for your place. Like that. Makes me wonder-” he trailed off as his large eyes wandered down from your face to your chest. 
You were shocked. No way. You had to be misinterpreting this. Maybe you were still sunstroked from yesterday, because there was no way you were reading him correctly. 
“Wonder what?” you piped, blush pinching at your cheeks.
“Wonder . . .” he said rocking his head back and forth, trying to tie a sentence together. “Wonder if y’ can be sweet, too.” He let you stew in wide-eyed disbelief for a moment as he gestured at you. “Wonder what you look like underneath all that.” Your stomach clenched as he tilted his hips forward, spreading his legs wider, to palm is cock through his pants. “Wonder if it matches what I’ve imagined.”
You would be lying if it was just your stomach clenching after that shameless display.
It was crazy how it all made sense now. The constant attention. The names. You thought he was being overly hard on you, picking at you, trying to get you to drop out. You rubbed a hand over your heated face. He was a grown man (a large one, too) that was acting like a little boy with a worm on a stick, chasing the girl he liked around the playground. You thought he hated you and all this time he was actually getting off to you. You felt like an absolute moron. 
“Doesn’t have t’ leave this room. If you’re interested,” he said in that deep gravel, still trying to keep himself together. 
You let him sit in silence for a long, tortuous, moment. 
“And if I’m not?” you finally asked. 
He nodded to the door behind him with his head. “Then leave. Talk t’ Price in the morning. No harm.”
“No foul,” you finished his phrase, running your fingers over your bottom lip. 
Silence hung between you for a hot moment in the cold, stale air of the office. You had a hard time believing he would just let you go at this point. Not that you planned to, the danger intrigued you too much to walk away. This line of work had made you a wholly different animal, it’s why you were here. You ran into war zones, battlefields, hostage negotiations, the places others couldn’t run out of fast enough. You’d been dealing with the people that most couldn’t stomach, the ones that couldn’t function in civilian society, for so long that they had worn a place under your skin. This lieutenant, Ghost, he had been in this just as long, if not longer, than you. He had to feel the same. Fuck, he had be worse.     
“What . . . what do you want?” you finally managed to ramble out. 
He let out a rough hum of satisfaction. You hated how you responded to it. You rolled your thighs together and, fuck, you were wet. You let out a small, shuddering breath. You’d gone a week with no praise, no kindness, and now here he was, the big, bully Brit who’d made your life hell practically purring over you. 
He trained his hungry eyes on you and motioned up with a flick of his fingers. “Wanna see ‘em. Don’t even have’t take your shirt off.”
A part of you wondered if this was all a trick as you slowly rucked your t shirt up to expose your stomach. That would track with how your week had gone so far. He was so blatant and open though, gripping the chair beneath him like he was about to launch out of it at a moment’s notice. He groaned as you pulled your shirt up to reveal your plain black sports bra. It was nothing special, standard issue, but it kept you strapped down. Not that you really had all that much to contain. 
He ran his hand over (what you assumed) was his mouth under the balaclava. He waited a moment for you to continue before urging you forward. 
“Come on, love. Don’t get shy. Wanna see ‘em.”
You slipped your fingers underneath the wide band at the bottom, hesitating only a moment before you pulled everything, shirt included, up over your head. You stared down at your chest while you balled your clothes in your hands.
“Not much to see,” you whispered, watching your nipples perk and skin pucker under the AC.
“Fuckin’ hell” was all he said. You dared to look up. “Fuck,” he continued, “Fuckin’ . . . get over’ere. Just fuckin’ dyin’ t’ get my hands on you.”
You dropped your clothes on the floor, closing the few steps between you quickly before falling forward into his grasp. You weren’t sure if you were ready for what this desperate, mountain of a man was about to unleash on you, but fuck did it excite you. Once he had you between his legs, gloved hands scraping up your back and around your waist, testing his fingers as he held you, but he didn’t do anything but look. He stared at you like you were made of glass. 
You stared at him, too. You hadn’t been this close since he’d pinned you on the first day, and you were pretty sure you’d been half-concussed then. You could see where he had eye black painted carefully around his eyes to fill the holes in his mask. You could see his long eyelashes, clumped together with that same oily black paint. It made the whites of his eyes stand out vibrantly. His large dark irises darted back and forth over your chest. You wondered what he was planning, what he was thinking. 
He didn’t leave you wondering for long. He pressed you forward, mouthing at your nipple through the mask. You let out a short whine, pussy clenching as his large hands kneaded at your waist. The feeling was like nothing you’d felt before. The fabric between you muted the translation between his actions and your pleasure. You could feel how eagerly he bit and sucked at you, but you were denied half of it. It made you dig your fingers into his shoulders in frustration.
“Want more?” he said haggardly, pulling off of you. He tugged at your belt, not waiting for an answer. “Then get these off.”
You did your best to undo your belt and pants despite your shaking and moaning while he dove back in, working harder at your other nipple. Once you’d dropped your pants down to your ankles he pulled you forward to step out of them, wedging you into the spread of his legs. You toed out of your shoes and then he kicked everything behind you, your boots banging loudly against the steel desk. You heard papers shift and fall, but couldn’t find a reason to care. He held you, running his gloved hands over your exposed skin while you shivered in font of him in nothing but your panties. 
He palmed his cock again before fumbling around to find his belt. You heard him click it open, the metal jangling as it went slack. 
“On your knees,” he ordered breathlessly. “Wan’ see what that little mouth can do with this.” 
You complied immediately, viciously curious as to what he was packing. If the tent in his pants was any indication, you had your work cut out for you. He popped open the button of his fly and then slowly unzipped. You couldn’t see anymore through his briefs than you had in his pants, but still, you leaned forward. You curled your hands on your knees, biting your lip, willing him to give you permission. 
“Go ahead,” he said giving himself one lazy, squeezing pump.
You put your hands on his inner thighs, right above his knees, testing the waters. When he didn’t say anything, you slid your hands up his legs, a soft, swishing sound following. You stopped at his crotch, pulling yourself forward before tentatively, gently, smoothing up his clothed cock. 
He groaned, covering your hand with his, forcing you to grip his girth. Your thumb just barely met your ring finger. 
“Fuckin’-” was all he could get out before pulling your hand off. 
He used his other hand to pull his dick out before pressing your hand to his hard, burning length. You gave him another pump, feeling how the skin stretched beneath your hand, then squeezing to feel how goddamn rigid he was. The tip of his cock made your mouth water. 
It was crazy. On you knees in front of him like this, you weren’t a competent soldier, a woman who held herself with poise and respect in front of her colleagues. He wasn’t an expertly trained, battle-hardened, special operative of the British Army. You were both human. Both hungry. 
You tipped his cock toward you to lap at the underside of the head. You met his eyes just as you closed your mouth around him, sucking the salt from his slit. He shut his eyes with a groan, letting his head fall back for a moment as he reached his hand up to grip at your skull. He opened his eyes to watch as he slowly bobbed your head down his cock. 
He gripped himself at the base, forcing your mouth to take him until you met his fingers. You did. Just barely, gagging as his head slid against the roof of your mouth to the soft palate at the back of your throat. He didn’t let you pull back. Instead, he traced the inside of your lips with his thumb, drool coating his black gloves.
“Lookit’ that,” he groaned as your throat pulsed and burned around him. “Little thing takes it all s’fuckin’ well.”
He let go of your head, letting you pull off of his cock. You stared at it with heavy eyes as your head spun from lack of oxygen, it glistened with your spit in the harsh light. He gave himself another languid stroke, watching you force air into your lungs while you sat practically naked on the floor between his knees. 
“Think you can take it in that little cunt a’yours like that?” he asked, stopping his stroke at the head.
You bit your bottom lip as you looked up at him. You gave him a slow nod. Any fear or paranoia you had before was long evaporated. You were wet, horny, needy. You needed him to give you something, and if he was going to give you a choice, you could do worse than getting railed until you couldn’t remember your name. You clenched, hands clawing at your thighs, as you watched him pump another stroke up that monster cock of his in front of your face before grunting out his order.
“Get up then. Against the desk.”
You scrambled up to your feet. He followed you, rising quickly from his chair to tower over you, pressing you backwards into the steel desk. Your hands reached out for purchase as he roughly gripped your thighs, throwing you on top of Price’s paper-laden desk. Folders and binders clattered to the floor, papers swirling across the tile as he shoved you down, ass right on the edge. 
He stood between your legs, hips flush to yours, his cock laying across your standard issue panties like a weapon. He pressed the weight of it against your skin with a groan, head spreading precum into your stomach. Quicker than you realized, he reached behind his back, coming back with a knife. It was almost invisible palmed in his large hand, only the tip of the blade winked from the tip of his thumb. With two quick flicks, he cut up the side of your underwear. He slid the knife back to wherever he had taken it from, like it was the most normal thing in the world, before pulling the now useless scrap of fabric from between the press of your bodies. 
He held the scrap of fabric in his hand for a minute, investigating it under the light before tossing it to the floor.
“Really are beggin’ for it, eh?” He said sliding his cock up the seam of your pussy. His easy, fluid movements as he rocked against you answered for you. “Fuckin’ wet just from that?”
You nodded, lacing your legs around his hips, trying to pull him closer. He pressed his hand into your stomach in response, squishing you against the desk hard enough to make you squirm. He pulled away enough to notch the head of his cock at your entrance.
“Needy little fuckin’ thing,” he said with a punch of his hips, nails biting into the soft skin of your stomach as his tip danced perilously on the edge of holding inside you. “Want it so fuckin’ bad? Want this inside y’?” 
He took himself in hand and watched as he pushed inside. You both groaned. You let your head fall against the desk with a dull thunk, eyes shut and legs shaking as he pushed deeper and deeper inside your slick hole. 
“Fuck.” He was breathless for the first time since you had met him. “Fuck are y’ tight. So fuckin’ small. Even gonna fit it all?” He rambled to himself as he took hold of your hips and watched himself fuck slowly in and out of you; hypnotized by the clutch of your greedy pussy pulling him in, resisting as he pulled out. 
You let out a small cry of frustration, tears pricking around your eyes. He was big, but that wasn’t the problem. You had taken your share of dick, you could take him. It was killing you how slow he was. He was lost in his own world, watching his cock slid in and out of you as you lay there silently begging for him to just fuck you already. 
“Quiet,” he whispered with a half-hearted harshness, hand trailing down to your pussy. 
You almost jumped as he began to rub a wide circle around your clit. Your slick barely dulled the rough texture of his glove. You shuddered, clenching around him, whining as he found a rhythm with his thumb and cock. Your clench punched the breath out of him. He fell over you, bracing himself with his arm. You could hear the hollow sound of his breaths behind his mask as he gave up trying to pump into your vice of a pussy. 
He nuzzled the cold plastic of his mask against your ear. “Not gonna’ last long doin’ shit like that,” he grumbled. He held himself up, pulling your face to look at him with a hand under your jaw. “Wha’d’y want?” 
You stared back at him with confusion. 
“Where d’y want it?” he clarified.
If you had a brain cell still functioning, you would have told him to pull out. It was the safer of the options he was giving you. 
But you didn’t. You moaned out, “Fuck. Inside me. Please,” like the absolute whore you had become once he’d whipped his cock out. 
Not one to question, apparently, Ghost was back in position the moment he heard you. He pulled your hips back to meet his, cock punching all the way in until you winced as the head hit your cervix. He took hold of one of your legs, hand running up the length of it, positioning it until it lay unfolded up his chest. He gripped his fingers around your ankle, starting at it as his other hand squeezed your waist.
“Lookit, fuck. Lookit that,” he said as he pistoned into you. You cut off the loud moan that he punched out of you. The change in angle was . . god it was like nothing you’d had before.  
“Like that?” he said, letting your foot dangle on his shoulder while he held your waist with both hands, driving into you mercilessly. 
If you could have answered, you would have spoke truthfully. You were sure. You would have moaned about how good it was, how he was so big and filled you so well. As it was, his powerful thrusts jarred you against the cool metal of the desk too much to do anything more than moan and hold on as more papers flooded the floor. 
“Got y’self off at all this week?” he asked, panting breathlessly.
You shook your head, a small whine of anticipation falling form your lips at the thought.
“Gonna nut just thinkin’ about you cummin’ on my cock,” he mumbled, trailing his hand back to your clit.
You let out a sad whine, bucking into his thrust as he touched you. You were close. So fucking close.
He began to circle your clit like before, finding that delicious rhythm with the pound of his hips that pulled you higher and higher, tighter and tighter, until dazzling sparks lit up your core. You reeled back with a cry, clenching his cock, arching as he worked you through your peak. 
His hand ripped away from you sooner than you’d like. He fell over you, both hands biting into the skin of your hips as he pounded into you as your pussy pulsed, any semblance of cadence or love-making gone as he chased his own high. You dug your fingers into his t shirt. The sweat drenched fabric was almost too slippery to hold on to. 
“Fuck! Too fuckin’ hot ‘n, fuck, tight. Fuck, ‘m gonna-” His weak series of sighs and groans, followed by the distinct feeling of his cock flaring inside you told you what he couldn’t.
He lay over you for a moment, panting as you both caught your breaths. You wondered if he was also stewing in the monumental realization of what the fuck you had both just done. You’d just broken so many rules. So much was at stake. He’d just cum inside a subordinate on his bosses desk, and you didn’t work for the same country. This was going to be a mess. You were sure of it. 
He pulled away from you, pulling himself out with a smothered whine. You crossed your hands over your middle as you watch him zip back up and adjust his mask. It was wild how he was back to normal within seconds. You half expected him to walk out the door and just leave you here like this. At least all of your clothes were here, save your sliced up panties. 
But he didn’t leave. He held out a hand to you, only letting you stare at it dumbly for a minute before he flicked his fingers toward himself, urging you to act. You took his hand and he pulled you up easily. He even let you slump against him after you sat up. You’d forgotten how tired a good lay made you.
Again, you expected him to leave you now that you were conscious and able to dress yourself, maybe leave you with a heavy warning (read: threat) to not talk about this. As you tried to shuffle to the side to try and get off the desk, he stopped you. His hands gripped both of your shoulders suddenly.
“The fuck y’ doin’?” he said, forcing you back in front of him.  
“Getting . . . dressed?” you answered with unease. 
“Funny,” he said with a single, dry, laugh. “You’re a funny lil’ thing, too.”
His hands skimmed down your sides before quickly seizing you by the hips, throwing you over his shoulder like a backpack. You gasped as your stomach landed on his solid shoulder, punching the air from your lungs.
“Think we’re done already?” he said, turning around. 
You watched as the desk, and the messy you had made on and around it, including your scattered clothing, circled back into view, then slipped away. He palmed a whole cheek of your ass in one hand, spreading you open enough for cold air to chill your leaking core, as he stalked toward the door. He probed a finger into your pussy, swirling the cum you felt leaking out across your folds. 
“Got a whole day off, y’know,” he said matter-of-factly as he opened the door. Completely ignoring that he had a naked woman slung over his shoulder like a caveman. “Think we should go back to mine. Relax. See what else that little cunt’ve yours can take.”
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𝙨𝙖𝙣𝙖’𝙨 𝙜𝙪𝙞𝙙𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙬𝙧𝙚𝙘𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙎𝙆𝙕:
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𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 7 — 𝙠𝙞𝙢 𝙨𝙚𝙪𝙣𝙜𝙢𝙞𝙣
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𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙨: 1.4k
𝙖/𝙣: late but defo worth it…i really outdid myself for this one, OUGHHH IM SHAKING MY HEAD LIKE A FERAL DOG I NEED HIM—
𝙩/𝙬: angst to fluff, rough tickling and soft tickles mentioned, seungmin’s an asshole but he means well
𝒍𝒆𝒆: seungmin
𝙡𝙚𝙧: reader
𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕: @someone-who-loves-kpop-saranghae @jeonginsdiary @leeknowstan33 @v--143 @wereallgonnadieonedaybutnottoday @inkytornpagess @lajanaa @a-wild-seungberry @channieissocute125 @soap143 @seungsluvv @skznccmlee @moony-9
𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠! 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐞? 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐮𝐛s 🐾
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he only really lets you tickle him if he feels like he did something to make you upset
seungmin may act all cold and uncaring, but he’s really not 🥺 
making him laugh always makes you happy, so he lets you
not that he doesn’t love getting tickled himself, but he’d never admit that. 
“Why are you so cold all the time! I’ve been nothing but loving to you, and…and it feels like you don’t love me at all!” You screamed, tears streaming down you face, rivulets of your sadness dripping onto the floor beneath you. 
Seungmin knew his expression would be as blank and uncaring as it normally was, but he didn’t know if it was his heart of his sanity breaking completely. 
You sobbed and almost falling over, Minnie rushed to catch you, but you shoved him away. 
“Don’t act like you care now!” 
Seungmin knew he fucked up. Badly. 
He could feel tears of shock and remorse welling up in his own eyes, but he couldn’t bring himself to blink them away. Maybe he deserved this. 
You grabbed your bag, stuffing your phone into it and slinging it over your shoulder. 
“Where are you going?” Seungmin hated how his voice cracked, he felt weak and powerless. 
You knew, Seungmin was your best friend, he may have seemed cold in the beginning but he truly did love you. 
But what he had said to you was unforgivable. 
‘Okay, you’re annoying. Stop calling me, I don’t have the time.’ His voice had sounded so cold, unfamiliar. 
‘But, Seungmin.’ You coughed, spots swimming in your vision. ‘I’m really sick, I really need your help, please!’ You gasped. 
Call ended. You had broken down sobbing right there and then, how could he say that to you, no emotion at all? 
You had to drive to the hospital yourself, scared out of your wits to go alone, and had fainted right in the lobby. 
Three hours later, he still wasn’t there, and your condition had improved. But you felt nothing but unrestricted numb, but all the pain in the world. 
And now he was here, checking up on you and apologizing rapidly for being an ass, but nothing made you feel better, happier. 
“I’m going home. I’m sick, and I need my medicine, if you didn’t know.” You snarled, shoving at him as he tried to hug you, tried to whisper more apologies into your ear. It just made you madder. 
“You couldn’t do this when I needed you most.” 
Seungmin stood there helplessly, and you only just caught the glint of his tears as you slammed the door shut. 
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Sobbing, you only needed one more thing before you broke down completely. Hearing the door unlock, you shot up to slam your door shut, but Seungmin was faster, pushing against the other side and overpowering your weak state. 
You stood there, tears streaming down your face, two hands covering it. You could feel his arms wrap around your frame, frail and uncertain. 
But once Seungmin asserted that you weren’t shoving him away, his arms pulled you into his chest, head coming to rest on top of yours. 
You wrapped your arms around his waist, and he held your face in his hands, leaning down to press a kiss to your wet cheek. 
Seungmin sank to the floor in front of you, grasping your foot. “I’m so sorry, so sorry. Please…don’t hate me!” Seungmin looked so broken, guilty. 
You couldn’t help but forgive him right away. Staring for a few seconds, you decide to make your move.
“Minnie.” You giggle. “What are you doing?” 
He looked dumbfounded. “What?”
“What are you doing on the floor—why are you grabbing my leg like I’m going to run away.” You snickered.
Seungmin paused for a few seconds, clearly thinking.
“I was gonna beg for your forgiveness.” He smiled up with you, grinning at the idea that he made you somewhat happier. 
You sank down next to him, hugging him tightly. “Don’t do this ever again. I really needed you.” 
Seungmin’s breath hitched. “I was being really crappy. It won’t happen again, darling.” He sniffled. 
“But…you owe me.” You glared at him with a pout, and he scrambled to reply. “I’ll give you anything…anything you want!” He held both of your hands in his. 
Gosh, he really was the cutest. Your best friend. 
“Fine. Let me tickle you.” You smirked, making your fingers into claws. 
“W-What?! Anything else, anything? Please!” Seungmin was already flustered, ears red and voice stuttering. 
He never lets you tickle him, you only normally manage to get a gasp out of him before he turns the tables completely, and you’re the one who was laughing. 
“C’monnn, you said anything~” You tease, and he slumped. “Fine.”
You squeal in excitement, running to grab your tie and your scarf. Seungmin flushed a deep red as you tied his hands high above his head to the headboard, and he squirmed in anticipation as you rested yourself on his thighs. 
“You ready for the biggest wrecking of your life?~” 
He blushed even more, squeezing his eyes shut before letting out a small whine. “Noho!” He was already giggling. How embarrassing. 
“They say that you only truly hear a person’s laugh when they’re being tickled.” You smiled down at him. 
“Just get it over with!” Minnie blurted. 
“Mmm, fine. Let’s start here.” You wiggled your fingers along his neck, startling when you hear the cutest giggles you had ever heard in your entire life. “Aweee~”
Seungmin was pretty sure his face was the color of tomatoes at that point, giggling crazily as your nails tickled along his collarbone. 
“How about…here?” You moved to his armpits, scraping up and down consistently. 
“AGH!! P-Please…” He squirmed and tried to seal his lips, just to burst into laughter when you massaged the center of his underarms with your thumbs. “Nahah—HAHAHA!!” 
“Your laugh is so cute!!~” You giggle along with him, a wide grin on his face that made you want to tickle him more. 
“NONONO!!” He shrieked when your fingers moved to his ribs next. “NO—AAAAHAHAHAHAHA!!” You jolted but smiled right along with him. 
“PLEASE—! PLEASE SOMEWHERE EHEHEHELSE!!” Seungmin choked, and you moved further to his waist, digging into the skin before slipping your fingers up his shirt to tickle him more. 
Minnie began to thrash wildly, cackles ringing through the room as his cheeks reddened cutely. ”AHHHAH IHIT TIHIHICKLES!!“ 
You knew exactly how to push his buttons. 
“How do you think raspberries would feel?~” You crawl further down with a shit eating smirk, moving his clothing out of the way slightly to expose his bare tummy and his belly button. 
Seungmin watched in horror. “W-Wait!! Don’t do raspberries…I might die!!” He pleaded, stomach quivering under your hungry eyes. 
“But I want to…” You pout, and he giggled crazily as you trailed your nails along his cute tummy. 
“Here goes!” You lowered your head, blowing a torturously ticklish raspberry onto his skin. You’d never done it before, but it must have worked, considering Seungmin’s pleading was drowned out by his hysterical laughter, the cutest smile on his face as he laughed himself silly. 
“YAAAHAHAHAHAHA!! PLEHEHEASE IHITS SOHO BAHAHAHAD!!” Seungmin shrieked, arching his back and slamming it back down when you blew another into his v-line. 
”MAHAHAHAKE IHIT STAHAHAHAHAHAP!!” He begged, twisting away from the tickly sensation. 
Minnie was practically going insane already, and you decided to finish off with one more so he didn’t actually die. 
You decided to go all out for this one, pressing your lips to his cute belly button and blowing as hard as you possibly could. 
Seungmin let out a raw scream before descending into the loudest laughter you had ever heard from him.
“PLEASE—PLEHEHEHEASE OHOHO MY GAHAHAHAHAD!! STAHAHAHAHAHAP!!” He howled, thrashing his head around crazily in his bound arms. 
You let up after that one raspberry to his belly button, kissing it gently to calm him down as tears dropped into his collar. “Thahat was so brutal!!” He whined, and you fixed his shirt before climbing onto his heaving chest to untie him. 
Seungmin squeezed out the last few tears and giggles before slumping immediately the second you fully untied him. 
“You did so well for me…love you so much.” You pressed kisses to his wet cheek to rid the tears, pulling him into your arms. 
You didn’t expect him to reply, but he did. “I love you more.” 
You smile happily. “But seriously, you’re one of the most ticklish people I’ve ever seen.”
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avalikesf19 · 2 days
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A Day at quadrant: LN4 (Part 2)
Author note: I don’t even know how to post anything on this and never wrote a fic but I hope this is good but I think it’s pretty shit and I haven’t finished it yet and if any writers want to use this idea you can for sure just @ me please oh and if you have feedback please let me know thanks xx
Also i tried to change my like writing style thing cause i feel like it was shit last time but yeah idk
Lando x quadrant fem reader
Blurb: reader is a member of quadrant, she games most of the time but also likes f1 along with her best friend Ria bish. She is friends with all members at quadrant and finds it a good laugh with all her mates, but maybe her view of someone in particular is more than a mate..
Warnings: sexualising, swearing, mention of a gun, leaked tape, sad distraught reader, friends to maybe lovers if I make it a series? Smut-ish? If I missed any let me know (I don’t know how to do warnings sorry x)
Well wasn't last week a fucking eventful week. You still cant stop thinking about Lando right next to you comforting you about what happened. You're starting to feel better about the whole issue and get some support from people online and all the other members of quadrant, but fuck that was just shit. You haven't been in any quadrant videos since, but you're in a better place now and probably need to start participating in them more.
Lando and ethan make the idea of quadrant meeting up at landos apartment and trying to train like him for a day. You aren't exactly looking foward to it but oh well, at least Ria is going. You text your gc back and tell them that you will do it too. Then, you get a message.
Lando: are you 100% sure ur okay to come back and film already? you dont have to if you dont want to.
Y/n: yep. I need to get in more videos and im feeling better anyways, thanks for asking.
Lando: all good
Well that was polite and unexpected of Lando to reach out, but whats more unexpected is for your panties to be soaked right now over 2 text messages. well fuck, oopsies.
That night all you can think of is Lando, it's a bit embarrassing to admit, but he was circling around your head like it was an f1 race. You decide to get your head out of it and call Ria to come over and have a chat, since she is your best friend after all. Shortly she pulls up to your apartment in Monaco, funning in bursting of excitement to see you.
"RIAAAAAAA!" you shout when you open the door for her. "Y/NNNN" she replied back. You give her a hug and make her a cup of coffee just how she likes it. You guys sit and chat about the f1 grand prix in Bahrain coming up, and how you hope Lando continues to have a good season with Oscar this year. "Did you see the chat about the new yt vid we doing" You ask Ria. "omg yes and they are bringing angry ginge in I heard" Ria replies back.
"STOP IT" you yell back laughing. You love ginge and his videos, who wouldn't? he's a very very funny bloke. "OMG i''m definitely coming tomorrow then to the recording are you kidding?".
Unfortunately time goes by when you're having fun, and Ria was the most fun, so she had to go a few hours later which felt like minutes. Besides you both need sleep for the youtube vid you're filming tmr at Lando's. You go to bed and try to sleep as much as you can, which didnt happen lol.
rise and shine love. It's already 6am and time to go to Lando's place to film. Normally you don't have to wakeup early as fuck but for the purpose of the video and "being Lando Norris" you had no choice. You get to his apartment after parking at the front and knock on the door, to which he opens. "hi y/n" he says nicely and gives you a hug. "So good to see you Lando, where is everyone?".
"first here mate" he says almost excitedly. "so what are we actually doing today like playing video games or some shit" you say. "haha your funny mate, we are lifting weights, eating what i eat, using the sim, and neck strengthening" he says laughing at you. "fuck r u taking the piss" you say laughing. "oh my days Landoooo do I look like an f1 driver" you also reply with. "well yeah thats the whole point of the video ya dumb fuck" he replied jokingly.
"hahaha get fucked lando nowins" you snap back. he laughs as you proceed to miss the chair you went to lean on making you flinch and stumble looking like an idiot. he is still laughing which makes you laugh too. "Lando norizz" u reply. "haha you think I have no rizz, funny" he replies egotistically. "yeah i do actually" you don't at all, in fact he hasn't even tried yet he has rizzed you up. "wanna bet?" he snaps out.
you don't have time to think before he pins you against the wall and just looks at you with those hot eyes of his. you can already feel your cheeks burning and your thong getting wet. "you say I have no rizz yet your cheeks are burning, and I bet those panties are more soaked than that porridge you tipped over the counter when you stumbled at my gaze, huh?" he grunts out.
what the fuck just happened, first how did he know and secondly did he just pin you against the wall. not the first time you want that to happen. you know what fuck it if we wants to be like that then he may as well be uncomfortable the whole video.
"how did you know about my tight, black lacy thong i'm wearing over my tight pussy hey? not your first time thinking about it aye?" you tease him, but whole walking over to him you see him looking uneasy.
why? because ginge was at the fucking door and heard that, and can see Lando's boner from a mile away. "well bonjour" ginge says laughing. "bonjour mate" lando says as he daps up ginge covering his boner and trying to ignore what just happened.
You already know this video is gonna be the longest set of your life..
sorry its a short one x
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fairykazu · 1 day
Note
hi pookie !!!!!!! congrats on 500 u deserve it frfr 🫶 for the event, can u have a bouquet of petunias with dan heng? thank you and congratulations again teehee :3
petunias with dan heng prompt: realizing feelings side note: oh mu god i think i brainrotted and then forgot my train of thought. this isn't exactly the prompt but he does realize it i swear. i might write a follow up afterwards because i hate the way i ended this. event masterlist 𝜗𝜚 hsr masterlist
nervous was a feeling that dan heng never allowed himself to feel, he only let it fleetingly pass by like the winter breeze. but he doesn’t understand how he began to feel anxious around you, just simply on edge just by being near you. he could just sweat pure bullets from the amount of sweat he could feel, making his palms sweaty. 
when the both of you went on an assignment for collecting extinguished cores, he nearly left mid-fight, not that he’d leave you in the middle of a fight, but your hand briefly touched his and he died within that moment. after that, he zoned out the entire mission, just focusing on the touch between his thumb and your index finger. his and yours, and his and yours- 
frankly, he doesn’t understand this feeling. if he asked someone on the express, surely, they would know why he’s acting this way. but he doesn’t want to seem like a bother to them. maybe he’d resort to them after a good dive into the archives. 
there was a gentle knock against his door but he didn’t hear it, head too deep in various books that were wide open. stacks of books and stacks of books littered the archives’ floors, it was like a maze to even just travel to dan heng. there were books like feelings and how to understand them and are you anxious? there are reasons why in the shelves. although, he was confused how they got there, maybe when march got them to read for fun, he was thankful. 
did he get the answers he needed? no. but they were helpful regardless yet he was in a dead end. well, it’s time to ask the express, maybe they’d know and surely, they would tell him. but when he tried to seek out answers from himeko and welt, they exchanged a look and laughed with each other. 
welt cleared his throat. “okay, himeko, let’s not laugh too much, maybe he knows why.” 
himeko wiped a tear from her face from laughing too much, catching her breath, “welt, c’mon, just look at him. he doesn’t know anything!” 
“dan heng isn’t clueless.” they were talking about him as if he didn’t even exist. until both of them looked at dan heng as if there was something he was supposed to know.  “is there something im missing?” dan heng asked, confused. 
“no…” 
“okay?” 
. ❀
back to the drawing board, he walked into his room, seeing march and stelle sitting in there. march raised a brow, “dan heng, your room’s a mess, even messier than stelle’s!” it was true, despite the silver haired girl protesting against the so-called “allegations” march is painting on her, his room was messy. there was post it notes on the walls, books on the floor, mattress and even the fan? was he really that deep into researching this feeling, if it is even real? 
“i was curious about something, that’s all.” 
“about what?” 
“name, something about name. they’re confusing me.” 
stelle quipped back, “what? that you like them?” the girl in pink gasped, march slapped stelle’s shoulder, “stelle!” she continued in a whisper-yell, “you weren’t supposed to tell him, he was supposed to figure this out himself.”  
dan heng tilted his head, deep in thought, ignoring the commotion the couple was making in front of him. 
what? no, no, he doesn’t like name like that. 
“look what you did, stelle! you broke him.”  march said, tapping on dan heng’s shoulder as if he was a buzzer in a game show. 
sure, sometimes, dan heng imagines a world where the two of you are together. tranquil hours spent in the park, just looking at each other. or cooking with each other, have a cat or a dog and rest together until the end of time or he’d pray to an aeon for eternity to exist forever just to see you as you both grow old.
but that’s because this is how friends act, right? 
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restlesschilled · 2 days
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TMagP 013
Note: As Always, I am a backer so this was written 23 April, 2024 and scheduled to be posted on 25 April, 2024
oh god its another episodes written by Alex
awww thanks odin <3
Im dreading this
PRE STATEMENT/ CASE
OHHH DATE TIME
THE FLIRTING
This is so cute but i cant trust it because alex wrote it
"that you dont know how cute you are" adshfjagdhflakshdf
WERE STARTING WITH THE BIG STUFF
"hi im from an alternate universe"
CELIA IS A MOM
JACK IS HER BABY
"i had a while few years when I first moved here"
IF ANYTHING HAPPENS TO CELIA OR JACK I WILL RIOT
HOW DARE
SHES A SINGLE MOM
"that depends on your baggage. DISH"
"they were the first ones that didnt want me" oooooooo\
Alice's Parents are dead good to know
"most pathetic vague post shes ever scene"
"more wine" "please"
LENA OFFICE
GWEN MY POOR BABY
"is it my fault?"
MY POOR PRECIOUS GIRL
"were managing the bad guys" FUCK
CASE
this hold music is a BOP
i had to stop and have my friend explain public school in England to me because that is not the same thing as American public schools
oh lovely a "fiance guy"
a hedge fund guy what i mean is a hedge fund guy
Why in gods name, would you use experimental setting on a hedge fund/ investing app… when you have no idea what it does and it has a shit tone of disclaimers??? i get being desperate but that's just stupid
also the irony of this guy saying hes a good person when hes betting on people failing with hedge funds
do people even steal phones anymore?
i feel like they are not worth all that much and just have to many ways to tack them for it to be worth anything unless you are targeting someone specifically
yeah i figured they might have targeted him
im pretty sure this would qualify as inside trading somehow
betting against your own company and than tanking the company is very illegal
pretty sure betting you'll have a shit time and then making sure you have a shit time would be the same thing
basically this man is committing insurance fraud... but through a hedge fund
it just occurred to me hes calling from the hospital that's what the beeping is
also vertigo mentioned
he was attack by computer bugs lol
shitty "finance guy" gets whats coming to him asmr
post statement
okay i know sam probably mean "be professional" like stop with the flirting
BUT WHEN YOU SAY IT LIKE THAT I SOUND LIKE YALL HAVE BEEN HOOKING UP AFTER WORK SOMETIMES.
HAVE YALL BEEN HOOKING UP?
this is how i choose to interpret this this is my new head canon( it was already kinda my head canon)
But if you ever ask me to be professional again, I'm going to have to take a shit on your desk." ALICE
"you signed the official secrets act in your onboarding. And I know all your school friends say treason's 'bussin'' and 'fire', but it won't look good on your CV." i love her so much
"its fine when I say it"
this episode really said fuck capitalism didn't it
also do week need to talk about the fact that celia's son is named Jack Ripley like jack the ripper
WAIT A SECOND JACK IS A NICKNAME FOR JOHN/JON
DID SHE NAME HER SON AFTER JON?
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bella-is-sleepy · 1 day
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Rise! Donatello x Female! Smart/nerd reader!
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Y/n’s Pov:
YAYY ITS FINALLY DONE!! I finished that one project. I made a cute collar for my pet dog, P/N! It was in f/c, and it has a tracker….. Because when I walk her/him they somehow get loose, and they run off. She/he does it for FUN!!
Not that P/N doesn’t like me; It’s just because they’re very energetic dog. Like they choose to be calm or crazy each day. Like gurl/boi pick a side!
I was putting on my doggy, until I heard my alarm go off-wait…? WHAT—!!?? I hurried over to my backpack and snatched it up off the floor running to my door, and out the apartment.
I made it to school; where which April was in the computer lab/room. I Pulled out a chair & took a seat next to her. “Hey girl!” I gave her a smile and replied “Hey April, how was your weekend?” She gave a hm In acknowledgement “Oh, Yea it was okay, I mostly just binged watched movies with my mom.” I gave a sad smile, but April didn’t see because she looked back at the computer.
I wish my parents wouldn’t fight ALL THE TIME; I just want them to get along, you know? She started typing for a project that we were working on together. Then I see that she texted someone on her phone. With the contact ‘Bootyyyshaker9000’ why did that sound familiar?
Five minutes later we were both talking about the work. Then all of a sudden me and April here “Psst, April” then three ninja starts get thrown into the table and they say ‘I’m here’ The April looked up and gasped the I look up as well and see…DONNIE?!?!
What the hell is he doing hanging from the lights?? The he Yelps “Whoa!” She the says “Hey Donnie, Thanks for coming” he then gets on a spiny-chair. “No probbles. I love this place!”
“Wait, April You know Donnie??” She looks at me confused “Y/N?? How do you know Donnie?!” The in the back me and April hear Dee say “Smells like learning and puberty.!” I gave her that awkward face I do when I hide things “Well….You see…uhhh, how do I say this? This is the Boy I was talking about last time…” She was SHOCKED!! Like this face type of shocked. (꒪Д꒪)ノ (WHEN, WHERE, HOW??)
“Oh hey y/n, You know April?” April grabbed him by the shoulders and started shaking him like a rag doll! “This is the girl you were telling me about???!!” She stops and he fixes his googles and continues to speak “So what do you guys need help with?” “Our computer science project, we just need you to check the code.” I gave her this face ヽ(#`Д´)ノ “GIRL, I SAID I COULD DO IT IM JUST AS SMART HIM!”
(Sorry i havent been posting! should i continue this story?)
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♥︎ • “In the dark or light, I'm right here.”• ♥︎ Akito and Rui x fem! reader (separate)
Dishes: Pancake and Soda candy
Drink: Strawberry sundae (dating)
Cuisine: Oneshot
Ingredients: Milk chocolate(?) (hurt/comfort) (not really)
Customer: @kanasakiis
Notifing: @akitosheart, a pancake has been made!
C/N: Um... Yes char just let her go into the dark by herself but it doesn't last very long... I feel I did something wrong but I tried my best and of course had to give a 'happy' ending so.. Here you go. Thanks for ordering once more though <3 oh, also they might be a bit short sorry, Im trying not to pressure myself like how i used to write, like how i nerfed from posting everyday to every other day
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“Well, I think it's about time for you to go. My dad doesn't like when we have friends over after 9:00. I need to get some things done anyway.”
“Oh, okay.”
I watch her gaze out the window and into the starry night sky, before standing up from my desk chair.
“I'll walk you out.”
I state before walking beside the girl and sliping my hand into hers despite knowing it'll stay there for a minute only.
“See ya tomorrow.”
I say with a small smile as my lips drift to her own for a goodbye kiss.
“Bye...”
After a short amount of time, I head back into my bedroom, unbeknownst to me that my girlfriend is currently trembling in the dark without me by her side. I shift my hand to the doorknob before deciding against it after the sound of light knocking rings through my ears.
Did she forget something?
“Huh?”
“U-Um... Actually c-can you walk me home?”
I immediately notice the slight fear in her voice and body language and am unable to decline her request as concern for the girl forms on my face.
“Uh, sure.”
Stepping outside, I'm immediately met with the cool night air hugging my face.
“Are you okay?”
I ask, concerned for her, though trying not to show it.
“I'm sorry.... I just didn't want to walk home by myself in the dark.”
It takes me a moment to process those words, but after I do, a frown envelopes my face.
“Oh... Are you scared of the dark?”
“.....”
Silence finds its way into the atmosphere before I see slight nod from Y/N.
I sigh and grip her hand warmly, looking at her with a scolding expression as I lead her into the direction of her house.
“Just tell me that next time.”
“Sorry....”
Another sigh escapes my mouth as I shake my head once.
“You know.... In the dark or light, I'm right here.”
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“Enjoyed the show?”
I ask, a cat grin slipping onto my lips as I stand in front of the girl, awaiting an answer.
She nods in satisfaction, causing me to let out a low hum before speaking once more.
“Well, I'm going to go help clean up. Feel free to help us, but I understand if you have to go home.”
“Yeah, I should probably go home now..”
“Alright. Goodnight, sweet pea.”
I pat her head lightly as my lips make contact with her forehead, a small and friendly smile crossed on them.
“Bye.”
I hum to myself again after watching Y/N walk away, my focus fixated on the task at hand. My face becomes more serious and focused though as I open up RoboNene's back, planning on making a small upgrade to the robot.
Only three minutes later, I glance by the lamp posts and see the familiar girl leaning against the post, as if waiting patiently for someone.
“Hm?”
With curiosity bouncing inside of me, I approach Y/N to ask of her actions.
“Y/N? I thought you were going home.”
“Oh, uh... I'll just wait instead, actually.”
“May I ask why?”
My eyes catch the slight parting of her lips before they watch it stick back together again.
“Um... Well I didn't really want to go alone... In the night.. In the dark...”
I remain silent, not expecting such an answer from her before nodding my head.
“I see. In that case, would you want me to walk you back right now? I'm sure the others don't mind cleaning up by themselves.”
“Oh, uh.. are you sure?”
“Of course.”
Without remedy, I take hold of her hand and lead her towards the exit of the bustling theme park.
I hum in silence as the cool night breeze envelops my face, leaving me with a warm smile.
“You know, you don't strike me as one who would be afraid of the dark.”
“? How did you..”
I chuckle at her cute look of surprise and pat her head with a smug grin.
“Never underestimate a director's observation.”
“....”
I watch her avert her gaze from my own, seemingly embarrassed.
“Don't be embarrassed, sweet pea. Everyone has their fears. Besides..”
I tilt her chin towards me.
“Wether in the dark or light, I'm right here.”
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stiffyck · 3 months
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What if people started saying "I need to exercise more" or "I need to eat a bit healthier" instead of "I need to lose weight"
You can be healthy and fat
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soundwavemain · 2 years
Video
What do I even caption this? Sorry rottmnt fans :[
Gotta thank @funneylizzie for forcing Casey Jr. to the forefront of my brain for weeks on end.
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quietwingsinthesky · 10 days
Text
sometimes interpreting media through a shipping lens enhances it, on occasion even beyond the author’s original intent, but sometimes, you do have to accept that your ship was not in the heads of anyone making the source material and trying to force it to fit into evidence of your ship will severely hinder your ability to discuss the actual text.
#and also ill hit you on the head with a brick#posts that. im not going to say theyre about destiel. im not going to say that.#and im not gojng to say it because. i dont need to. you already know <3#and to be clear: its not the interpretation thats a problem here. thats the fun of shipping. its then taking what youve interpreted and then#trying to backread that onto the media itself as intentional. as intended.#dismissing the actual themes and story for evidence of a ship is the problem. u get me?#shipping brainrot is not ‘oh i think these characters would kiss for this reason’.#its ‘this show is and has always been about these characters kissing no matter how much i have to ignore about the show to make that true or#pretend is completely different than its actually presented or straight up make things up to make my ship be a part of the intended reading’#thats the brainrot. the brainrot is when u step off the train of reality.#this is not true about the best piece of art ever made Captain America and the Winter Soldier. btw. that movie IS about bucky and steve#kissing alsjfdjskdjg#(<- okay im being silly here but id like to make a real point here too. the thing about TWS is that. it is genuinely enhanced by a romantic#reading. its not *better* than a platonic one. its just different. being able to see it through that lens does make a lot of the original#movie’s ideas even more complex. case in point like: steve struggling with his dating life. because what shared life experience does he have#with other people who look his age. and the movie is. about. someone who has his shared life experiences. and his mission to get bucky back.#you can see how that lens would be beneficial to the original movie rather than fighting it to prove the ship works in opposition to the#author’s original intent.)
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sluckythewizard · 10 days
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BUT IM NOT A WRITER. something strange possessed me to write my first proper fanfic in maybe a decade. be niceys to me but also grill me so i can get stronger. this one is a stupidly self indulgent bit between Soda and Emizel, a day or so after emizel was sired. CW for gore descriptions, but thats about it i think. image below is a snippet of the start. the rest of the whole dang thing will be under the cut. ive never posted fanfic ever in my life. read my tags for secret behind da scenes commentary
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"Oh shit… I think hes dead…" It was another night, another patrol, another fight, and another win, for Emizel and Soda.
Under moonlight, under street light, under interwoven wires above, the two stood here in a quiet and damp alleyway. The air was drenched with the smell of a previous rain, and the puddles of said storm remain huddled in corners and pot holes.
One splashed as soda found himself stepping forwards into one. The residual adrenaline of the fight had left his body shaking, his heart still pounding, his wounds still throbbing. They had still won; or more-so, Emizel had won. A particularly nasty blow to the side had Soda reduced to the side lines for most of the fight, left to watch as his newly vampiric comrade had absolutely eviscerated the competition.
Emizel had only been turned a day ago, but it was impossible not to notice how it had changed him. He already acted so goddamn confident, so on top of the world, and this newfound power, newfound speed and strength, only built upon his insane ego.
The Fangs that they encountered here on this night stood no fucking chance. Emizel was too quick, too strong, and he easily chased off the rivals. It was only now, as the final unfortunate opponent had turned to flee, a clean clock in the jaw sent the human tumbling to the ground with a dull thump, and it did not move afterward.
Soda shifts his shoe out of the puddle, the cold seeping into his sock being one of the few things keeping his mind in his body in the moment. Is the guy breathing?
A low laugh bleeds from Emizel as he stretches his arms, licking his sharpened teeth as he stares off in the direction the remaining Fangs went. Soda knew that look on his face, the look of a tiger pondering on its next kill, he knew well that Emizel wanted to chase them.
But the guy on the ground.. It was one punch to the face, and the wicked crack sound that came from it had planted a seeding dread within Sodas chest.
As he steps forward, around the puddle, the resulting sound made Emizels attention click back over to Soda, the snap of his gaze making Soda flinch.
The two lock eyes, and Soda weakly gestures to the limp body on the floor. "The uh.. I think.. Is that guy dead?" He finally asks, having a hard time keeping contact with Emizels intensely red eyes.
Emizel turns his attention to said body, tilting his head as he goes to kick at the thing, turning it over. "Man no way hes dead, I punched him once." He mutters.
"Well, yeah, but his head almost twisted all the way around when you did.." Soda steps up to stand beside Emizel, the two boys standing with their hands in their pockets, down at this unfortunate, limp body.
"Should we hide it?" Soda asks, glancing back over at Emizel, who had.. An odd look on his face. He was clearly pondering something, but Soda could only guess whatever was going on in that brilliant head of his. He knew and trusted that Emizel was smart. If anyone could figure out what to do about this, it would be him.
But the lack of an answer had anxiety chewing at the back of Sodas rib cage, and after a second, he speaks up again, compelled to fill what he perceived as a tense silence. "Like.. I dunno, I've never uh... killed a guy..." He shrugs, prompting Emizel to let out a big sigh.
"He's not dead man, just out fuckin cold." Emizel kneels down next to the body, putting an ear up to its chest, and pondering on that for a moment. An uncertainty twists his expression, as he decides to instead place a hand on the victims throat, checking for a pulse. A moment passes, and seemingly finding nothing, he pulls back.
"Uh... Okay, so he might be dead."
Something about the confirmation from Emizel made a shiver run up Sodas spine. That, or maybe it was just the breeze agitating the cold water in his shoe.
"Huh… Damn.." Was all that Soda could really get to leave his mouth. Which was hardly a splash compared to the torrent that was slowly churning in his head. They just killed a guy. Or, Emizel just killed a guy. And it was so easy. They had to hide the body now, right? That was the usual progression here? Getting caught for murder was way more extreme than getting caught for breaking mailboxes with soda cans. It was so, so disturbingly easy. It really was just one punch. It's not like the Fangs are weak by any means, so just one punch? And this guy is dead? Forever?
Or, perhaps by human means, their rivals were fairly tough. But Emizel was on a whole other level. No mortal could stand up to him now...
"Hey, are you okay?"
The question had pulled Soda back from his head, his gaze flicking back over to Emizel, who was looking up at him with those eerie, piercing red eyes. Soda felt another shiver.
"Uh, ieah man, I'm all good." Soda nods, swallowing down whatever anxiety was bubbling up in his throat.
But Emizel didn't seem satisfied by his answer, standing back up and staring down his human comrade. Soda couldn't meet his eyes, his gaze instead traveling downward, and pausing on Emizels red, cut-up shirt. There was something off about the color, the way it seemed darker in some spots, brighter in others.. Wait, wasn't Emizel wearing a white shirt before all this?
The vampire boy seems to pick up on Sodas expression, following his eyes down to his shirt. "Oh, yeah! While you were on the floor, the knife guy got me a little" He says, a stupidly simple smile on his face. Soda was about to let out a laugh at how unbothered his friend seemed by it, but it gets caught in his throat when Emizel goes to pull his shirt up.
The sound of the bloodied fabric peeling away from skin made Sodas own skin crawl, but that wasn't nearly as bad as the sight of the intense gash running from his collar bone, down to his stomach.
"Oh, fuck dude!" Soda gasps, but Emizel laughs it off. Even despite knowing Emizel well, Soda was still surprised by just how much Emizel could shrug off. "Shit, doesn't that hurt, dude?"
"Oh yeah this fucking hurts!" he says with a laugh, his smile big and toothy and proud as he presents this egregious wound. Swollen and angry, pulsing with a slow heartbeat, and still oozing with thick, dark blood.
The sight of the split flesh, and the glints of bone beneath the dark, dark red all tugged at Sodas gag reflex, and yet he couldn't pull his eyes away. So Emizel's just been walking and talking so normally this whole time with his chest just cleaved wide open? Soda felt just as impressed as he felt horrified.
It wasn't until Emizel reaches down to poke at the abhorrent wound that Soda snaps out of it. Watching his friend press his fingers into the bloodied flesh, and slowly pulling it apart, allowing more ichor to seep from the gash, it was too much to watch at this point.
Soda reaches up to put a hand on Emizels wrist, the vampire boy stopping, and looking up at his friend.
Soda found himself freezing again when he locks eyes with Emizel. He was going to say something now, right? "U-uhm.." Is all he really chokes out, giving Emizels wrist a gentle tug. "D-do you. Uh. I suppose a hospital Isn't a place you can go anymore..?"
Emizel just smirks at that, letting Soda pull his hand away from the wound. "Oh, yeah no, but it's fine. I mean, I don't think it's gonna kill me" He shrugs. It was so, so impressive just how unphased Emizel was by all this. Fuck he's actually so cool.
"Well yeah man but it's like, still a bleeding hole. Like you're soaked in blood dude, I'm pretty sure that even a vampire needs that stuff on like, the inside." Soda rubs the back of his head, still unnerved by the sight of it all. "Vampires have like, super healing, don't they?"
"Oh yeah like, regeneration powers. I know I heal faster sometimes but I dunno how to just, activate it on command.." Emizel hums, his eyes narrowing down at his own injury, as if trying to will it into mending. Soda looks away, unable to watch that vile gash ooze any longer.
"I dunno man, how do they do it in like, video games?" Soda tosses the question out, trying to click together some sort of solution in his own head.
"Uhhh.. Huh, video games.." Emizel repeats to himself, chewing on the thought while idly poking at the laceration; until an idea audibly flickers to life in his head. "Oh, I just gotta refill my blood meter. Or whatever."
"Oooh yeah, blood meter!" Soda perks up, "Of course, see this is why you're the brains, man" Soda smiles, glancing back over to his cool friend, but immediately needing to look away again when the sight of that egregious gash tugs bile back into his throat.
While Soda averts his eyes, Emizels eyes wander back over to the body, and that classic 'Emizel has a bad idea' smile creeps across his face.
"Well, if this guys dead, I'm sure he's not gonna need all that blood.." He grins, kneeling down next to the body again.
The word 'wait' had hardly gotten the chance to crawl from Sodas mouth, before Emizel lifts up the arm of the unfortunate body, pulling the sleeve back, and immediately sinking his teeth into the exposed wrist.
The sound and the sight of blood gushing around Emizels teeth made Soda cringe, his hand impulsively coming up to aide his own wrist. An empathetic phantom pain made his wrist ache, his imagination simulating the feeling of shark teeth cutting into skin, sinking deep into the flesh, and clacking against bone. That was a lot of blood, that was streaming down the arm of this fodder.
A low growl bleeds from Emizel as he adjusts his teeth, cutting into more flesh, opening the wound further, and allowing a pulsing torrent of red to stream down his chin, onto his coat. It was an annoying thing, to clean blood out of clothing. Most of the Demons deemed it easier to just let the stains remain. But the night that Emizels throat was torn open, and liters upon liters were granted freedom from his human form, the unbelievable mess had practically changed half the color of Emizels iconic coat.
That was the first time Soda had ever seen that much blood from one person. And well. This would probably be the second.
The sight was unnerving, but it was impossible to look away. The alley was quiet, save for the distant bustle of a distant city, which made the noisy squish and squelch of teeth gnawing on flesh all the more apparent and nauseating.
Emizel had become a monster for sure, and watching it feed on something was… thrilling, in a way. It reminded Soda of feeding a pet spider, or lizard. A mouse for a snake.
It's a heavy thing to witness, the end of a human life. The fear of death is a primal thing, and Soda was no different from any other living thing. He figured everyone else feared death just as much as he does. Well, maybe except for Emizel, of course.
It made sense. Emizel was such a cocky and noisy kind of guy, but hes always had the power to back it up. Even when he lost, or seemed at his lowest, Soda still saw this sort of fire in him, one that Soda admired.
Of course Emizel would be the one to become something like a vampire. Something that Soda had always figured was just a fantasy creature thing. He wondered; if vampires were real, what else was real? Werewolves? Zombies? Unicorns? Are there real demons? Like from hell? Is hell real? Is he going to hell?
The sudden ttteeeeaaaaarrrr of flesh rips soda from his wandering thoughts. Emizel was tugging his head away from the arm of his kill, his teeth clamped down into the chewed meat, and pulling it apart. Soda had seldom seen so much of the inside of a human arm, and the sight of spilling threads and squirming veins was hardly something he ever wanted to stomach again.
"Oh fuck, dude, hey-" Soda steps forward, raising a hand, but the way Emizel snaps his head back over to him, twisting to an unnatural degree, Soda cant help jolting back.
Reddened teeth glint menacingly in the low light, a threatening growl thundering from its clenched, dripping jaws. Emizels eyes were focused, yet wild, glowing with whatever light they could reflect.
Sodas eyes were wide, and his body was frozen in the thick, electric tension within the air. It was like staring down an angry dog.. Suddenly a light bulb in his head flickers to life. It was kind of like an angry dog, right? One hunched over a meal it didn't want to give up. Memories of old encounters and unfortunate dog bites resurface in Sodas head, and with that experience, and with those lessons learned, he gathers the courage to react.
He shuts his eyes, keeping them closed for a few seconds, as he slowly pulls back his arm, and slowly steps back. It was an eye contact thing, wasn't it? Eye contact makes dogs angry, right? That was how you dealt with an angry dog? As he pulls back, and takes in a breath for composure, he finally dares to peek at the angry vampire before him again.
Its snarling had died down, but its eyes were still trained intently on Soda. After a tense, and agonizingly, slow pause... It blinks back, lowering its head back down to its meal, but keeping its anxious stare on this potential threat.
A relieved sigh falls from soda as the tension finally melts. He didnt realize he was holding in so much of his breath. "O-okay, man.. It's yours, you uh.. Earned it.." Soda mutters, stepping back further, until he was standing in a sufficiently dry enough space to sit down in. Now that he wasn't standing, he was finally taking into mind just how much his hands were shaking.
It's odd. Soda couldn't really describe this feeling thrumming in his chest as something like fear.. Nausea? For sure. Disturbed and rattled? Oh absolutely. This was certainly a sight he would have a hard time scrubbing from his eyelids when he sleeps tonight. But he wasn't scared. The memory of the night that Emizel was sired still coated the inside of his mind like an unwashable film. Even in that moment, when the unnatural teeth from the unnatural maw of an unnatural thing hovered over his throat, he couldn't say with confidence that he was scared.
Emizel really is his best friend in the world. And he knows with his whole heart that Emizel feels the same. He knew and trusted that his best friend would never hurt him. Not too badly at least. He loves Emizel, and would give anything to support him.
Like a mouse to a snake.
This really is an incredible power that his comrade had come across, and Soda especially felt a sort of pride in his friend. He felt it was worth it to help him feed it.
The bile in his throat had made its point, and Soda agreed, that watching someone die, and get torn apart and drained might be too much for him. Despite how much he hated the Fangs, the end of any human life seemed like such a jarring thing. To have such an intense fear finally get confronted. Would he go to hell?
Maybe he couldn't just feed people to his friend. So an alternative could be donated blood, right? Soda wouldn't mind giving up something like blood. His body makes it for free, after all. Maybe some other Demons would agree to give up some blood too. But they shouldn't have to take on such a burden. Soda wouldn't mind being the only one. The only one. The only one.
His hand comes up to rub at his neck, as his imagination conjures up what it might feel like to have teeth sink into his flesh. He's been stabbed before, is that sort of what it would feel like? Would he have to get stitches? He didn't really want to get stitches, so maybe there could be a more effective way to get the blood out of him. And there was so much vital stuff in his neck too. There's' a vein that's safe to cut into somewhere, right? He would have to look that up later.
A STARTLING RINGING;
Splits the moment,
Prompting both Soda and Emizel to jolt in shock,
As the phone in Emizels pocket rings away.
Acting as if nothing abnormal had taken place, Emizel pulls out his phone, and answers it.
"Heyy, Johnny! Yeah we chased em off, I don't think those bastards will be infesting this street again anytime soon. Yeah, ieah we'll be heading back soon. Oh fuck yeah dude, save us some!"
Emizel covers the speaker of his Nokia, turning back to Soda with a big smile on his violently bloodied face. "They got some pizza waiting for us back home, dude!" he whispers out to him.
Soda does his best to crack a smile, and to suppress the look of unease that probably stained his face, as he stares at the literal murder scene that's been splattered about in front of him.
"Oh, yeah, hell yeah man.." He swallows down the bile again. "What kind of uh.. Soda did they get?"
Emizel ponders that, before turning back to the phone to ask Sodas question.
"Sprite and a big pack of that one strawberry mountain dew" Emizel tosses the answer back over to Soda, who gives a nod, and thumbs up.
Mountain dew is so neat, Soda really liked all the wacky flavors those guys come up with. The thought of going home and opening a can of soda was certainly a comfort. After witnessing all this blood and gore and viscera, Soda absolutely needed to get back home and get a nice cold glass of something bright red .
As Sodas mind wanders off to soda, Emizel wraps up the conversation on the phone, before hanging up, and standing up.
The movement had pulled Sodas mind back into the moment, enough for him to timidly voice a concern he's had since the start of this debacle.
"Uh, hey, so.. The body, should we… Uh.." He gestures vaguely to it, and Emizel grants it a nonchalant glance.
"Eh, I can toss it into a dumpster or something, I dunno. I'm sure its fine. I'll handle it."
The vampire boy goes to pick up the corpse, the wound in its mangled arm no longer even dripping with blood, the flesh pale from the absolute absence of red in its veins.
"Go ahead and meet me by that one mailbox, the one with the bullet hole in it." Emizel casually instructs, tossing the drained body over his shoulder. "I'll catch up."
"Uh, yeah, okay.." Soda musters up a nod, and the strength to rise back up to his feet, wincing as that bruise on his side makes itself loudly known again. He still felt anxious, but even despite it all, he knew he could trust Emizel to take care of things. He always does. "Just stay safe man, I'll see you there." Soda assures with a smile, and Emizel matches it, tossing him a wink. And then suddenly- -He's gone! If Soda had blinked he would've missed it, but he was fortunate enough to just barely catch the glimpse of Emizel darting off at an inhuman speed, probably looking for a place to dump the body. Right, he would take care of it. Emizel always makes sure his crew is taken care of. Well... Guess all that's left for Soda is for him to walk back to that meeting spot. He looks around the alley for a moment, taking in the sight of that enormous pool of blood in the middle of the concrete. Or whatever the floor of this alley is made from. He ponders on the present moment a little longer than he meant to, the shock of it all leaving him aimless for just a few, soothing moments of just, decompression. The night is quiet, vast, and cold, but the stresses of just the past 5 hours had left his body radiating with fiery aches and pains, so the chill of the occasional clawing breeze was welcomed. Except for when said breeze agitated the cold water still soaked into his sock. He should step in another puddle on his way back to even it out. The smell of rain still rested heavy in the air, heralding another storm on the horizon. There was that, and then, well, there was also the blood. The stench of it felt far too intense to just ignore it, the metallic miasma making itself maliciously unmistakable. Maybe the impending storm will wash this mess away... He looked forward to putting this unfortunate night behind him. With one last rattled, but deep breath, he stuffs his hands in his pockets, and turns away, strolling back over to the mailbox that Emizel had described.
He couldn't wait to get home and drink some soda with his friends.
#NO TAGS ON THIS ONE BC WELL. IM SHY. IM TAKING A BIG LEAP JUST BY ALLOWING U TO REBLOG THIS. IF IT BREAKS CONTAINMENT THATS UR FAULT.#i unfortunately suffer from the disease of 'i hate everything i write the day after i write it' BUT IM GETTING TREATED#I WILL NOT BE HAUNTED BY THIS WEAKNESS FOREVER. AND HEY LOOK THIS IS THE FIRST ACTUAL FIC BIT IVE EVER FINISHED..#ITS SOMETHING TO BE PROUD OF!! AND BY JOBE I WILL BE PROUD EVEN IF I HATE IT.#i dont always need to be the one who likes my art bc i know Someone out there will always enjoy it.#and to that someone i say: omg thankyou i LOOOOVEE YOUUUUUU!!!!!#JUST DELETED A WHOLE RAMBLE I JUST HAD ABT NERVOUS DISCLAIMERS FOR MY ART BUT I DONT NEED EM!!#GET CONFIDENT GET CONFIDENT GET CONFIDENT. ANYWAY. so emizel and soda huh#THEYRE SO CUTE TOGEEHTERRRR TEEHEHEHEHEEEE they are the homies that kiss eachother goodnight like CMON#but uhh so hey your bestest friend in da world just got turned into a freaky creature thing that eats ppl#ieah yknowthe guy that u care about alot that u had to watch get bled out by another freaky creature thing in an alleyway#yeaaah and you were super hurt and weak and stupid and u couldnt do jack nor shit to help him#what was i talking about again. RIGHT so hes even cooler now bc he cant die n hes super strong n his arms can be knives. sometimes.#but also he can eat people now. and sometimes he cant stop himself from eating people. and thats kinda scary. but in a cool way.#but also in a disturbing way. but also in an interesting way?but also in a freaky way.the feelings ARE MIXED!!!ATLEAST I THINK THEY WOULD B#okay again i havnt listened to the suckening ina bit. so its been a minute since i absorbed their personalities. i could be misreading or#misremembering or misconstruing or mischaracterizing or WHATEVER. i think the confusion carries its intended effect#LOSING MY TRAIN O THOUGHT. anyway i love soda n emizel i hope they get locked in a saw trap together or somethign. for enrichment.#TALOS GRANT ME THE STRENGHT TO POST MY CREATIONS ON LINE!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUGHHH!!!!!!!
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cinna-bunnie · 25 days
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thinking about older women
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#hey auntie 👉🏾👈🏾#some of them b dancing on that line and i am looking respectfully (⁠´⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠.̫⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠`⁠) ♡⁠#many such cases... giggling at how often w how many ppl aksjak family friends.. or it be ur own family 💀💕#someone's mom would joke about snatching me up like 😭😶‍🌫️ ma'am first of all .. would#and the touchy prima (⁠〒⁠﹏⁠〒⁠) ♡⁠ yes please put ur hands on me i am so comfortable with physical contact (⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠) let me hold ur hand ♡#🚶🏾‍♀️ being hot is nice sometimes#the forbidden fruit... hey tía (⁠´⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠.̫⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠`⁠) 👉🏾👈🏾💕#some of the exchanges I've had were so 😵‍💫😵‍💫 ma'am.. i got a lil crush on u.#← not my actual family. i do not have one. engaging in one from this perspective is a lil different yfm 🚶🏾‍♀️u don't have to get it#or maybe u do idk im zooted rn and feeling rly gay abt aunties and older women in general okay 😩💕#i need to go sweet talk someone's tía i know she's looking beautiful tonight 🚶🏾‍♀️ i see u girl. i love ur hair your nails are beautiful#i love your color coordination you have such good fashion sense (⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠) ♡⁠#ur earrings are so pretty i love your necklace i love your bracelets (⁠。⁠ノ⁠ω⁠\⁠。⁠) lemme go help y'all cook or I'll make the drinks whateve#let's talk.. ♡⁠#Lupe... what are you up to these days 😩💕 my favorite. a family friend#i kinda see family friends as family too sorta bc my fam was p small when i did have one so a friend would be a basically auntie#but also not.. technically. so ╮⁠(⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)⁠╭ idk. they r tías 2 me though and i love them.#they r so nicey 2 me 。⁠:゚⁠(⁠;⁠´⁠∩⁠`⁠;⁠)゚⁠:⁠。 ♡⁠#she wanted me to say her name n talk to her in Spanish a lil bit and she ate it up 😵‍💫 (⁠。⁠ノ⁠ω⁠\⁠。⁠) ♡⁠ she loved the way i say her name#i had such a crush on her omfg. low-key but not but yeah but respectfully..
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writer-room · 10 months
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I don’t think I’ve ever seen any type of media so clearly portray how my writing changed before and after I realized I was queer like Nimona. ND Stevenson’s work is just so familiar it pains me in an absolutely incredible way.
Plenty of people point out the differences made between the comic and the movie (and loving both regardless, of course). Most of them mention how the movie has a happier ending, its portrayal of its messages has shifted slightly, and its way more obviously a queer (especially trans) metaphor. I don’t know if any other writers had this happen, but if I had to describe how my writing changed from tiny little twelve-year-old me to the current day, I’d just point in the direction of how Nimona changed from the comics to the movie. It’s alarmingly similar.
Its all just...dripping with coming to terms with ones queerness. Not just from the plot, but from its very existence as a film. Its an evolution of growing up queer. The end goal, the base message, remains the same, even if the methods getting there are different. Because what someone made when they were twelve and had no idea what they were going to turn into and what they made as an adult with so much that changed, and so much left to change, are going to have so many different methods.
How Nimona was born the way she is, how the story changes from a corrupted core with no happy ending to being about ending that corruption and coming out okay, how Ballister’s grudges and issues with Ambrosius changed, all of it is just so indicative of changes made throughout ones life where these tiny little details are tweaked into something new, but still fundamentally the same story at its heart.
Even if this is just a me thing, I didn’t realize how excited I could be at seeing so much familiarity in a film. Good lord, I need to watch this movie again.
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arom-antix · 4 months
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My feral little man
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