#but yeah now its time for a bit more radio silence

[gureumz]

project aphrodite

rating: explicit

member: jungwon

premise: in a post-apocalyptic world, you and jungwon are excellent scientists and are at the relative top of the list of people who are ideal parents for the next generation of this dying world. it's now your job to repopulate this earth so you ask your co-worker to pretty please knock you up.

notes: sci-fi elements, dystopian au, scientist!reader, scientist!jungwon, fem-bodied reader, reader is referred to as a woman, dom!jungwon, breeding, impreg kink (like heavily), dirty talk, platonic (?) breeding, co-workers with benefits (?), idk this is kinda speculative fiction but also suspend your disbelief a bit lol

a/n: first of my 1k follower special! not quite sure what order i'm following here but i hope you stay for the ride nonetheless! enjoy!

it's a strange feeling.

in your line of work, 'strange' is hardly any cause for concern. as a biologist with a concentration in genetics, you've seen all the ways nature does its job. from the familiar concepts almost all people learn about in science class like the basic 'mom-meets-dad-equals-baby' to the eerie methods organisms in the deep sea evolve to survive.

you've learned about it all, pored over each punnett square, stressed over the formulas. so, this shouldn't be anything to worry about.

and yet, you're still worried.

"i mean...what did we expect?" jay speaks up from beside you, eyeing the phone in his hand.

"we're presently some of the world's most brilliant minds so...," he adds, locking his phone before hunching over his desk. to your ears, it sounds as if he's trying to convince himself rather than you.

you scan over the document flashed on your own laptop screen. the harsh fluorescent lights overhead buzz nonstop, going on and on, a background hum all of you in the bunker have grown used to. at this moment, it lulls you into a daydream, vision swimming as you repeat the words in your head.

all government personnel with a status level 7 and higher are recommended to partake in project aphrodite. those falling under level 10 are strictly required. participation at this level is compulsory.

common citizens with a status of 9 to 10 are also required to participate. ample compensation for those successful will be provided.

"you're a level 8. it's not as if you have to," you mutter, fingers digging into your temples.

jay snickers. "how many level 10 government personnel are there in this ruined world? a few hundred or so doctors, another few hundred scientists, even fewer world leaders. that's not taking into account the difference in sex. my information's not up to date but last time i checked, there is a hell of a lot more men than there are women. it's a shitshow waiting to happen."

you turn to meet jay's eyes, not meaning to convey any certain emotion, but the way jay's expression falls leads you to believe that you look way more upset than you're letting on.

"oh shit, yeah," jay curses. "you're a level 10. i forgot."

you sigh, tilting your head back against the headrest of your seat.

"i'm sure they'll release more regulation soon," you begin. "this is just the initial memo. with our world hanging in the balance as it is, no one's gonna let this devolve into some patriarchal anarchy, i hope."

"yeah, of course," you hear jay agree. "most of the proponents of project aphrodite are women, anyway, so i'm sure they'll take extra measures to keep you safe."

you sit up straight, looking at jay once more. "this is the world, huh?"

you and jay pause before sharing a quick chuckle.

"'go make babies, or else,'" you say in a mock radio announcer voice. jay lets out a laugh, his voice echoing off the empty office walls.

the two of you fall into silence, as if retreating to your respective thoughts. all that's in your mind at this moment is your current project, the very thing the few people more powerful than you had assigned for you to do: leading your team in stopping that godforsaken virus ravaging the outside. you've been making steady progress so far, but with the weight of this new responsibility, you're not sure if you could keep the momentum up.

you realize with a passing thought that most of the scientists on your team are level 9s and 10s.

"well," you begin before you could stop yourself. you're suddenly overcome with a feeling of suffocation, the office space seemingly too small and continuously growing even smaller.

"i hope you find someone you'd like to procreate with," you say lightly, pushing yourself off your chair. you quickly gather your things: folders and binders and other loose papers in your arms.

you catch jay looking at you, a pensive look on his face. you stop as you're grabbing your reusable coffee jug.

"no," you deadpan. "not me."

jay's eyes widen, as if realizing he'd said something without really saying anything.

"i—no, wait—i mean...," jay stutters, ears quickly turning red.

you smile, patting jay's shoulder reassuringly. "in case you were thinking about it."

jay's mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water and you can't help but laugh.

"these are desperate times, but i'm hoping it's not too desperate," you add. without waiting for a response, you turn towards the door, already making your way to it.

"besides, dr. isa lee seems more your type," you say over your shoulder one last time before pushing the door open and stepping out into the hallway.

---

"hey."

you look up from the microscope, tearing your attention away from the specimen you were examining. your eyes readjust to their normal focal length as a tall figure enters the lab, perfectly crisp white coat hanging off his broad shoulders, thin-wired spectacles resting on the bridge of his tall, straight nose. your lips feel strangely parched as he makes direct eye contact with you and you're left with no choice but to moisten them with your tongue.

"oh hi, dr. yang."

the other scientist chuckles, setting down a stack of papers on a desk in the corner. "i've been here for three weeks. please, call me jungwon."

you swallow. "right. jungwon."

dr. jungwon yang was a new import from the seoul bunker, having come to your own area's bunker merely a few weeks prior. he was immediately put under your supervision, an addition to your already elite team of biologists, geneticists, and virologists. off the bat, you could tell he was a man of many talents, coming up with unconventional solutions and arriving at answers quicker than anyone else.

his presence in your lab made your heart swell. in pride, adoration, or desire, you're not quite sure.

"uh, yesterday's results are in that binder over there, in case you want to go over them," you begin. jungwon walks over to your side of the long table, peering over the slide loaded into the microscope.

ignoring the way he brushes ever so slightly against you, you continue. "the director's dropping by later this afternoon, but i wouldn't be too bothered with that. he's just looking for someone to blame for the slow progress at this point. if only they could get us those materials we asked for..."

"have you read the memo?" jungwon asks abruptly, straightening up. he towers over you, his eyes downcast as he stares at your face.

"of course, you've read the memo," jungwon corrects himself, chuckling. "what i meant was...what do you think of it?"

"it's a government-issued memo, it hardly matters what i think," you respond, focusing back on your work in front of you, although all you do is stare blankly at the moving microorganisms, mind unfocused with how much of jungwon's perfume you can smell.

"it's your reproductive health that's on the line. i'm pretty sure your opinion counts for something," jungwon says with a pinch in between his eyebrows.

oh, a feminist. that's even hotter.

"okay, yeah. i appreciate the new guidelines they put out," you admit, looking back up at jungwon. "though it's the bare minimum, i'm glad they're letting us keep the autonomy of choosing who to...boink."

jungwon laughs at that.

"and free fertility drugs for anyone who wants or needs it. oh, also, thank god they didn't have the brilliant idea of putting a time limit on it. having read some crazy speculative fiction myself, the things people are willing to do in fiction are crazy. who's to say they can't do the same in real life?" you continue.

you don't notice the way jungwon's smirk grows as he listens.

"kind of makes the whole thing unsexy, don't you think?" jungwon cuts in, raising an eyebrow. you blink, unsure of what he's talking about.

"i'm surprised they're not monitoring us with cameras and hooking us up to EKGs and shit," he adds.

"oh," you say with a soft giggle, finally catching on. "i'm sure some people are into being watched."

"are you?" jungwon asks.

"am i what?" you answer.

"into being watched."

a pause.

you shake your head. "how about you?"

"oh no," jungwon says. "i prefer to keep what's mine for my eyes only."

"hm. possessive. that's kind of sexy," you mumble under your breath, a sudden surge of confidence coursing through you.

jungwon just stares at you, but you can see his pupils dance in amusement, taking in your whole face and all your features. you might have imagined it but he seemed to have peeked down at your chest for a second.

"do you think it's attractive for someone to be into lego-building? or at least, used to be into it. i'd give an arm and a leg for a complete lego set nowadays," jungwon asks, leaning against the table, and only now do you notice the veins running over the back of his hands.

you think about whether his arms are just as veiny.

"do you think it's a good trait to pass on an offspring? lego-building, i mean," he presses on.

"uh, yeah. good problem-solving skills," you answer, humoring his question.

jungwon nods. "do you think leadership skills are important?"

you smile, leaning against the cabinet opposite jungwon. you nudge his foot lightly. "i lead a team of scientists myself. of course, i think leadership skills are important."

"you and i both," jungwon agrees.

jungwon shifts, placing his hands in the pockets of his lab coat.

"how about dimples? do you think dimples are cute?" jungwon asks once more, one corner of his mouth upturned. a deep crease on his cheek appears.

a dimple.

"very," you admit.

"i see."

there's a silence that stretches over the two of you, and the weight of uncertainty is daunting as you stare at a spot on jungwon's tie. finally, after a few seconds, you heave a sigh, unable to take the tension any longer.

"this is the weirdest way anyone has ever flirted with me," you declare, looking up at jungwon through your lashes. he's grinning and you nearly shiver at how utterly attractive you're finding him at this moment.

"but it's effective," jungwon says. that was a statement, not a question.

you tilt your head to the side. "how do you know?"

"because you would have blown me off two minutes ago if it wasn't," jungwon reasons, crossing his arms. by doing this, he just made himself appear even wider than he is.

"always so calculated," you say, impressed.

you stretch your neck, easing your head from side to side, watching as jungwon fixes his gaze on the taut tendons of your neck. "are you also this precise in bed, dr. yang?"

jungwon approaches, a large hand resting on your hip. "that's for you to find out."

your breath hitches as you feel his thumb rub through the fabric of your skirt.

"later?" he asks.

"my place or yours?" you reply, fingertips grazing the front of his polo. you can just about feel the slope and ridges of his toned muscles.

"i'd like to be a gentleman, so mine," jungwon offers. "i'll walk you back to your room after."

"i was kind of hoping i wouldn't need to walk back after," you say, a hint of teasing in your voice.

"is that a challenge?" jungwon says, his other hand pressing firmly on your lower back. he pulls you to him and your hands involuntarily reach out towards his shoulders to steady yourself.

a few seconds pass before any of you speak again.

"that's for you to find out," you say.

---

"kind of weird, isn't it?" jungwon asks, panting against your neck.

your back is pressed firmly against one wall of his sleeping quarters, a wide, loft-like room, similar to yours. a luxury offered only to level 10 government personnel, the room gives its occupants enough space and enough privacy.

and boy, did you need privacy.

"what's weird?" you say breathily, fingers threading through jungwon's hair as he kisses down the column of your neck. his fingers nimbly undo the buttons of your blouse and you whimper when you feel him lick at the valley between your breasts.

"coming up to coworkers or friends then asking them to reproduce with you," jungwon responds, tugging your blouse off of your shoulders.

(you both held enough respect for the institution that employed you both, so your work lab coats were neatly thrown over the back of jungwon's couch before anything got too frisky.)

"see, it's the way you say it that makes it weird," you giggle. you pull jungwon back up to your face, kissing him fervently, tongue licking into his mouth.

"oh yeah? how would you say it?" jungwon challenges as he pulls away slightly, his nose grazing your cheek. he licks a stripe on the underside of your jaw.

"please, jungwon," you whimper, playing up the whine in your voice just a little bit. "need you to knock me up. make me pregnant, please."

jungwon grunts in your ear, reaching behind you to rip the zipper of your skirt down. you let the fabric fall to the floor, stepping out of it quickly, revealing the matching red lace panties you had in tandem with your bra.

"yeah? want me to cum inside you so many times that there won't even be the tiniest chance that you're not pregnant?" jungwon says lowly, kneading one of your boobs in his hands.

you nod, hooking a leg around jungwon's hip, pushing your core right up against the bulge in his pants.

"yes," you breathe out, dragging your clothed pussy over his straining cock. "let's be good citizens and have a whole bunch of kids, yeah?"

jungwon chuckles, hands hurriedly working on his belt. you take this time to kiss up his neck, still rutting against him, desperate for any contact.

"come here," jungwon says through gritted teeth as his pants and boxers fall to the floor. he kicks them off unceremoniously, yanking you towards the couch. your eyes briefly catch the flash of white that were your lab coats.

the two of you fall onto the cushiony surface, with jungwon sitting up and you falling a little less gracefully on him. the two of you laugh as you adjust yourself, righting your posture so you could look at jungwon.

"take this off," jungwon commands, pulling at your panties. you swing off jungwon for a moment, pulling off the garment in record time. you reposition yourself over jungwon, his cock standing tall, hard, and painfully red.

"come on, show me how bad you want those kids," jungwon teases, tucking your hair behind your ear.

you roll your eyes. "you gotta help with the diapers."

a second later, you sink down on jungwon, moaning wantonly at how much he stretches you out, filling you up effortlessly. jungwon throws his head back, his bottom lip pinched between his teeth.

"i'll quit my fucking job at the lab if this is how good it feels to make babies with you," jungwon groans, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips.

you whimper at his words, rocking back and forth on his lap. you angle your hips a certain way, the tip of his cock kissing at just the perfect spot inside you. you shudder, repeating your movement.

"god, you feel amazing," jungwon praises. "so warm, so tight."

"yeah," you respond. you're gliding up and down his cock, swiveling your hips as fast as you can. you clench down around him, the thought of jungwon cumming inside you your only motivation.

"filling me up so good," you add, watching as jungwon screws his eyes shut, neck shiny with sweat.

you move forward, attaching your lips just below jungwon's ear. you suckle on the salty skin, running your tongue over the spot, savoring the way jungwon lets a moan rip out of him.

"gotta let the whole bunker know this one's mine," you whisper as you let up on jungwon's neck. a faint red spot is left in the wake of your lips on his skin.

in a blink of an eye, your whole world tumbles upside down, jungwon's hands forcing you down on the couch by your waist. in a daze, you realize that jungwon has you pinned under him, his eyes wild with a hungry look in them. he pushes your legs right up against your chest, lining himself up with your entrance.

"the moment you start showing, no one in this goddamn bunker will have a single doubt who gave you that baby," jungwon counters, thrusting into you. he gives you no time to adjust, picking up where you left off.

you cry out, trying to anchor yourself on anything your hands can find. eventually, you find purchase in jungwon's shoulders. he feels your nails digging in, and he mutters a soft 'fuck', speeding up his movements, the wet sounds of his skin slapping against yours so incredibly obscene in the confined space of his room.

"give it to me, please," you say, meeting jungwon's eyes as he continues to fuck into you. his forehead is creased, a look of concentration washing over his face.

"cum inside, fill me up as many times as you want, fuck it deep in me," you continue, cradling jungwon's face in your hands, the tender gesture a contrast to how rough he's bein.

"god," jungwon groans, voice breaking at the end as he speeds up, but then he halts abruptly, his mouth hanging open in a silent moan. you feel him twitch inside you and you gasp, clenching down as hard as you can.

"fuck, yes, milk it all out," jungwon says. he starts to thrust up into you again, watching as his cock is slowly coated with his cum spreading all over your cushy walls.

you whine, your fingers finding their way down to your cunt, your middle and ring finger pressing onto your clit. you rub at it ferociously, the idea of jungwon's sticky release inside of you turning you on impossibly.

"i'm getting hard again, jesus christ," jungwon complains but his movements don't cease. he's shaking from the overstimulation but he wraps his arms around you, pulling your limp form up against him.

"rub that pretty pussy for me, babe," jungwon requests, thrusting up into you shallowly.

"make yourself cum while i fill you up for a second time."

---

"so?"

you jump a little at the sudden intrusion. you look up at jungwon through both of your reflections in your bathroom mirror. three pregnancy tests lie in a neat line on the edge of the sink.

"i just started the timer, jungwon," you reply with a laugh. jungwon turns you around to face him, kissing you briefly.

"hm," you say, looking up at jungwon questioningly. "you never kiss me unless you want something."

"well," jungwon begins, hands slipping under your sweater. "we can always kill time while we wait for the results."

you shake your head, but you're already pressing yourself up against jungwon. "you're insatiable, dr. yang."

jungwon winks at you, undoing your bra under your shirt. "you know it."

"plus, you just look too good in this damn lab coat."

#enhypen smut #enhypen scenarios #jungwon smut #jungwon scenarios #w: jungwon

[kamiversee]

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 35 || The Failing Streak

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, fluff, & a tinge of angst.

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 3.6k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——WRONG, AS USUAL. Oh, it was so clear that Nanami was the only person on the list who could actually be considered difficult or hard.

And the crazy part about it was that it wasn’t him who made his level of difficulty so high, it was more of his situation. You considered him to be the hardest on the list because, well, you couldn’t get a hold of the damn man.

Sitting down and having a conversation with him? Oh please, it was damn there impossible. Being able to get a hi or hello out to the man and hopefully lead to flirting and seducing him? Yeah, not a snowball’s chance in hell were going to accomplish such a thing so easily.

Worst part about it was always that it wasn’t his doing. None of it was intentional, simply coincidental. But even so, it was frustratingly coincidental enough for you to consider Nanami the most difficult name to check off the list.

After your deed with Sukuna, you still spent some time not exactly talking to Gojo. Even after you went out of your way to send him a thank you text, which you don’t normally do, for the money he sent-- Gojo only replied by hearting your message.

You didn’t like how he avoided you, even though it was probably best for the two of you considering all the shit he’s keeping from you and how desperately you wanted to understand him. But, all of his avoiding you only lasted two more weeks before you were set to see the man.

To keep the timeline in check, the week Gojo originally took you to see Nanami, on the Friday after Sukuna’s party, it turned out that Nanami only goes out every other week. The following week, in which Nanami would’ve been at said nightclub, you didn’t go because you needed a day or two to recover from Sukuna. Leading up to now, two weeks after Sukuna and dating to the end of November.

You felt like you were running out of time for some reason, even though Gojo assures you that Nanami goes to said Nightclub every other week and has been doing so for maybe two years straight.

As of this very second, you were dressed in this lovely blue dress with matching blue heels, all of which Gojo had purchased for you, as you sat in the passenger seat of the man’s car.

Time was moving by fast and yet slow at the same time. On days like today, when you were starting to work toward seducing a new person, the hours dragged on. Yet, on days when you didn’t do anything regarding the list, they’d fly by in the blink of an eye.

It was like your studies, classwork, and finals didn’t even phase you anymore. This was crazy to think about when just a year ago around this time of finals season had you swamped and panicked like crazy. Yet, this year it seems that you weren’t worried at all.

Your studies were always held at the top of your priority list, no matter what. So, as the year slowly crept up to its end, you weren’t one bit unprepared for your tests since you spent almost all your free time studying.

Back to the current though; here you were in Gojo’s car. Had a word been said to each other so far? Not really. Gojo only greeted you for a moment with a hey, not even placing his eyes on your own like he usually would, and then he asked if you were ready. After you responded with a yes, he was quick to turn the radio up to fill the silence and begin the drive.

You didn’t remember the drive being as long last time but it felt like you were in the car with Gojo forever and not talking to him or not hearing him talk to you was eating away at your insides. It was so unusual.

Even though you hated Gojo, and yes, hated because you’re not sure if that’s still how you feel despite what you may tell him, he’d still talk your ear off no matter what. But now, he was so quiet.

If it wasn’t for the radio playing their end-of-year tunes, you’d be dying in the awkward silence. Even so, at one point the man seemed to be annoyed by the Christmas songs that played and you watch him move a hand to change the station, quickly going to a random one that played some kind of R&B.

He seemed more relaxed once the songs changed and you couldn’t help but steal multiple glances at the man. They were very short glances though, never anything more than a peak over at him. Gojo wasn’t dressed up like the week prior because he didn’t plan on going inside with you this time, just dropping you off.

The low hum of the car along with the slow tunes of the music eased into your ears as he drove and drove and drove. It was rather late into the night so as you stared straight ahead, you lost yourself in your thoughts.

You wanted to say something to Gojo, anything to get him to talk but, you didn’t know what. You weren’t even sure why you wanted to speak to him so badly, there was a time when you wished for him to shut up and now he was.

You hate how the universe does this to you. When you wanted him silent he’d talk for hours and when you wanted him to speak, he was mute.

Part of you debated on asking him if he was okay or how he’s been these past two weeks. There was this burning curiosity inside you in regards to Gojo, the image of him sobbing into your chest plaguing your mind endlessly and you even felt like you could still hear his broken words and pitched voice.

Your eyes squeeze shut at the memory. No matter how shitty he’s treated you or treats you, you don’t think you ever want to see that man cry again. It was the most beautifully disturbing image ever. He looked like an angel the more you think about it.

His eyes were glossed over and appeared to be all glass-like due to the azure shade embedded into his irises, those pretty fluffy white eyelashes of his, thinned and coated with water, his pale face fused with shades of red and pink along with the way his eyebrows, eyes, and mouth would twist and contour into sadness…

You had to shake the image out of your head. You never want to see something so angelically sad in your life again. It almost haunts you how Gojo Satoru seemed to be the prettiest crier.

As you shake yourself from your recollection, the car comes to a stop and your eyes open. You were at the nightclub already. Your mouth suddenly went dry and you didn’t want to go in just yet. Going in meant you would meet Nanami, hopefully sleep with him by the end of the night, and possibly never get the chance to talk to Gojo properly again.

The sound of Beyonce’s voice was in your ears and you furrowed your brows as you looked at the screen in between you and Gojo. Haunted by Beyonce was on, the song nearing its end, and at that one part, the kinda’ part that would make someone feel like they were in a scene from a movie.

You finally turn your head to Gojo, looking at him fully instead of a mere glance. Gojo looks so damn perfect? Your heart throbs in your chest and you don’t know if it was the music drilling into your ears or the man beside you but…

He had his eyes up on the sun visor where a little mirror was, making sure he looked okay. You don’t think he knew you were staring at him-- taking in his clear skin, gorgeous side profile, sharp jawline that led you to look at his neck, a hickey you left on him present even after it being weeks since you last slept with him, and the white t-shirt he wore clung to his body like always.

The echoing of your heartbeat got louder and louder the more you stared at him, the song was almost over and you swear it was in slow motion that Gojo turned his head to you, meeting your unwavering gaze. At that very second, time had either stopped or frozen and you felt your breath hitch.

Those blue eyes of his were dilated like crazy as they met your face. His lips were so plush and rose-tinted, his cheeks decorated in a faint blush simply because he’s caught you staring at him and you saw the way his eyes softened. A look of never-ending love was given to you and you felt like you could die happy because of that look alone.

He didn’t need to say anything to you, his eyes said it all, and they helped you overcome your confliction within seconds. Your eyelashes fluttered into a slow blink and Gojo didn’t say anything but his gaze flicked down to your lips for a split second, then back up to your eyes.

Gojo Satoru was-

You had to turn away. Your heart was pounding in your chest and your breathing suddenly caught up with you, nearly making you choke. Holy shit, this can not be happening right now. You are not falling for your blackmailer.

Right?

You don’t hate him but you can’t love him. You don’t love him. Right?

Your face is heated and you brought your hands over yourself to try and collect whatever the hell emotions just blossomed in the pit of your stomach. You could feel the way your heart rate was beating differently. Curse Gojo and the stupid song for having you feel this way.

The soft, yet deep sound of your name being said causes the hairs on the back of your neck to stand up. Why are you suddenly so nervous? What the hell is wrong with you?

“You alright, sweetheart?” Gojo asks and god his voice is so sappy with love and emotion that it makes your stomach churn.

You can’t look at him so you remain turned away, “Mhm, I’m f-fine.” You hated the shake in your voice, the nerves so clearly obvious.

Gojo can’t read what it is you’re experiencing but he wishes he could. He wants to know why you turned away so suddenly with your face all flustered. “Look at me,” The man whispered.

You couldn’t. There was already something wrong with your heart and you absolutely could not look at the man right now, “I uhm…” You exhale softly, “I should head inside…”

A hand is raised to the door and you go to open it but Gojo’s hand is suddenly on your thigh, his touch making your body tense, “I know I’ve been quiet but, I don’t want you to go in there all nervous. What’s wrong, love?”

Oh god. That. That’s what’s wrong. Love, sweetheart, sweets, whatever it is it always yanks you by the strings of your heart and wraps them around your neck, leaving you in a heart-wrenching chokehold. You wonder if Gojo even realizes how in love he sounds when he speaks to you.

“N-Nothing,” You whisper, still yet to look at him.

Gojo sighs, “You’re lying, sweets. What’s wrong, c’mon, tell me before you go.”

“Fuck,” You whisper out loud, just barely catching his ears. You then turn your head to him and Gojo’s eyes go wide at your expression.

He’s never seen you look at him with such dilated pupils outside of when you were horny and, that couldn’t possibly be the case right now… right?

“Satoru, I… Something’s wrong,” You murmur, you don’t know where you’re going with this but he wanted you to say something so you’re trying your best to do so.

Gojo blinks a could times to make sure he’s not imagining the look in your eyes. “Damn right something’s wrong, did you drink or smoke before I came to get you?” He suddenly asks.

You shake your head no.

“Then…” Gojo blinks, “Why’re you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“You’re pupils are dilated.” He points out.

Your eyes widen, “A-Are they?”

“Mhm,” Gojo hums softly, almost in awe. He then whispers your name, “Are you…”

“N-No.” You say, feeling like he was about to ask if you were horny.

Gojo tilts his head, “Okay well…” He doesn’t know what to say or how to feel about the dilation of your pupils. He only sees it from time to time, a few times when you talked about Choso, and almost every time you were horny.

So if you’re not horny… or high, or drunk… then…

“It’s not a crime,” Gojo comments.

You grit your teeth, “Might as well be.”

His brows tense. He can feel the emotions you’re experiencing exuding off you, “You’re allowed to-”

“I shouldn’t.” You cut off,

He frowns, “But you can-”

“You told me I shouldn’t.” There’s a shake in your voice that doesn’t go unnoticed.

“I…” Gojo sighs heavily, “I know but, i-if you do then I…”

There’s so much going unspoken but the two of you knew what either was saying, you understood each other more than either of you realized.

“You what?” You ask him.

“Well, I love you too.” Gojo shrugs, “But, you already know that.”

“I don’t-,” You huff, wanting to deny the fact that you love him in the first place, “Satoru, I… I can’t love you.”

“I know,” His voice is so soft, so gentle with you. He understands what you’re going through and can see the worry in your face.

Your voice trembles, “I shouldn’t be-”

“But you are.” Gojo cuts off, he knows it and he’s not going to let it go. “Your mouth tells you that you aren’t but, your heart and soul know.”

“K-Know what?” You ask breathily.

“That you’re falling for me.”

“I’m not.”

Gojo grins, “I’ll catch you if you do.”

“I didn’t fall,” You say firmly, “I t-tripped but, I never fell. And I won’t.”

“Watch your step next time,” He whispers.

You turn your head and meet his eyes again, “I will.”

The two of you gaze at one another, both of your pupils unknowingly dilated and both of your hearts swelling with emotion. You open your mouth to say something, not even sure of what, but Gojoj cuts you off.

“Go inside,” He says, voice gentle.

“What if I don’t want to.” You mumble. When did you grow so attached to Gojo? Why are you afraid to part from him?

“Oh sweetheart,” He shuts his eyes and sighs, “You know the repercussions behind that.”

“There doesn’t have to be any though, you don’t-”

“There needs to be.” He interrupts, putting that wall of his right back up. “Go inside, we aren’t doing this again.”

“Satoru-”

“Please, go inside my love.” Gojo murmurs.

You shift and his eyes open. Gojo is met with your hand making light contact with his face and like always, he melts into your touch. “Satoru,” You say again.

“Yes?” He hums.

“Before I go,” You’re speaking slowly, unsure if you want to say it out loud. Once you do so, it’ll be official.

Gojo rubs his cheek into your palm before moving his hand over your own, turning his head, and kissing your hand softly, “What is it, sweetheart? Tell me.”

“I don’t hate you anymore.” You finally voice out.

The man’s poor heart could only take so much. He inhales a sharp breath, “Okay.”

“Remember that,” You continue, “I don’t hate you, Satoru.”

“G-God,” He stammers, “You’re gonna make me cry again, sweets.”

“Save your tears,” You chuckle.

He nods, “For another day?”

“Are you really referencing The Weekend right now?” You giggle.

Gojo smiles, “Yeah.”

“You’re an idiot,” You comment.

“Your idiot.”

And there’s your heart pounding again, “Don’t say that.”

“Y’know what you are?” Gojo asks, peering into your eyes with nothing but affection, “You’re my eternity.”

“What does that even mean?” You’ll never get over his way with words.

“My forever,” Gojo explains, “But I believe forever has an end and, eternity doesn’t. So by that I mean,” He leans toward you and his forehead rests against yours, “No matter what happens, even through death, my heart will always beat for you.”

You feel uneasy hearing him say that. It’s beautiful like always but, there’s something deeper lying beneath his sugar-coated words, “Satoru…”

“Hm?” He hums.

Your hand caresses his cheek, “Can you promise me something?”

“Anything,” Gojo says with zero hesitation.

“Promise me you won’t hurt yourself.”

He’s quiet for a long moment, your words ringing through his ears. Then, he sighs heavily, “It’s far too late for that.”

You frown, “I mean physically.”

“I…” Gojo trails off. Were you really worried about him harming himself?

“Promise me.” You say again, needing to hear him promise you in order to feel okay.

“I promise.” Gojo tells you, “I’ll never physically hurt myself.”

You knew he’d already mentally hurt himself so you didn’t feel the need to have him promise not to do such again. But, with the way he’d been acting over the past month or so, you needed to make sure that the man wouldn’t go on and do something insane.

So with that, you end up parting from the man finally, feeling much better about the situation now that you’d spoken to him. You’re at peace now and he is too, him more than he let on.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Now, here’s where things got tricky.

Nanami Kento.

As stated earlier, you end up having difficulty catching the man at the right time.

On this second attempt to speak to him, as you entered the nightclub, you were actually able to spot him with no problem. The thing is, while you made your way over to him, you watched the man drop a couple of bills onto the bar and then get up and leave.

Okay, you didn’t want that to stop you at first, thinking to accidentally run into him and then go on from there. Yet, as you tried to do so, you didn’t even bump him at all, nor did he see you. Nanami had walked right past you and right out of the building.

There went your second attempt. As for the third attempt, which then dated into the second week of December, you missed him yet again. That time, when you arrived, he was talking to this short brown harried man with big bright doe eyes.

You didn’t want to just walk up to Nanami, you wanted it to be as natural as possible so, you didn’t approach him then either and waited for a moment where he was alone. The brown-haired man went off in the direction of the bathroom and you had gotten up from your seat with the intent of approaching Nanami.

…Only to be beaten by some other woman who approaches him. He didn’t seem too interested in what she had to say but he spoke to her nonetheless, conversating long enough for the other guy to return to him and make you miss your opportunity.

Thus, the third attempt down the drain.

This led you to a bit of a pause. Why? Well, since it was the second week of December, for you, it was also the last week of the semester.

This meant that the following week, and or, the remainder of December was winter break for you. That means that the next time you would see Nanami would be just after Christmas and possibly before New Year's.

You had plans for those weeks so, you’d have to skip coming to this nightclub again. That frustrated you because, well, that means you’d be trying to get with Nanami in the following year and almost a month from now.

It sucked but, you were content with that. It’s not like you could get ahold of him as it was anyway. So, after that night you went home by Uber.

How were you to spend your winter break exactly? Well, most of it you wanted to spend with Shoko but you and her worked it out where on Christmas week, you’d go home to your family to spend most of that day with them and then return in the afternoon.

Shoko didn’t have family to go home to and you knew she spent her Christmases with Gojo and Geto but even so, she pleaded for you to spend it with her and them this year and after a talk with your family, it was agreed that you’d do exactly that.

Nanami would have to wait until the holidays were over.Which was completely fine but, you weren’t expecting such an eventful Christmas… Perhaps it’ll go down as the most memorable for you, especially since it was just full of surprises.

GOJO SATORU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

GETO SUGURU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

TOJI FUSHIGURO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢

KAMO CHOSO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢 / 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

ZEN'IN NAOYA ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙭𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

ITADORI SUKUNA ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮???

NANAMI KENTO ☐ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙙

mlist || previous chapt || next chpt

#the f*ck list #the fuck list #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #gojo x reader #choso x reader #toji x reader #nanami x reader #sukuna x reader #naoya x reader #geto x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #sukuna ryomen x reader #nanami kento x reader #choso kamo x reader #kamiverse #kamiversee #smut fic #jjk smut #gojo smut #geto smut #choso smut #toji smut

[ghcstao3]

“Come on, stupid thing. Work.”

Soap has been toying with an old radio for the better part of an hour now, ever since he’d gone digging through the safehouse’s storage and discovered the thing. Ghost’s headache has only grown since.

“This fuckin’—“ Soap mutters a string of curses under his breath. He smacks the side of the small device. “Is a spot of entertainment too much to ask for? Christ.”

Right. Because they’re trapped in the cabin overnight at least, and according to Soap, that demands they find something to pass the time. Unfortunately the deck of cards Soap had also pulled out was missing half its count, and the books on the shelves have too-faded print between their insect-eaten pages, so the radio it is.

God forbid they sit in silence and mind their own.

Finally, the wretched thing crackles to life. It’s all static as Soap searches through frequencies, and Ghost has to suppress a groan. Even Soap’s mumbling had been more bearable.

“Hold on… I think… yes!”

The faintest melody filters through the ancient speaker, just a channel of classical music since it’d be unlikely that much else would be reaching them where they’re holed up.

Ghost is making a mental count of his inventory for the nth time when a hand appears in front of his face, beckoning. Ghost raises an eyebrow at the mischievous look on Soap’s face.

“Dance with me, LT,” he says. “Not taking no for an answer after all the trouble I’ve just been through.”

“I don’t dance, sergeant,” Ghost replies flatly. “Find a better partner. That’ll waste your time.”

“You’re such a wet blanket.” Soap rolls his eyes, but still doesn’t retract his hand. “It’s just us. I won’t tell anyone if the big, bad Ghost does a bit of dancing. Swear it.”

Ghost scoffs. Soap snatches his arm and hauls Ghost to his feet despite his resistance. The music fades and resurges with the radio’s signal as Soap drapes Ghost’s arms over his shoulders and settles his own hands on Ghost’s waist.

“Not takin’ the piss, are you?” Ghost grumbles. “Gonna teach me how to waltz, Johnny?”

“Maybe I will,” Soap says matter-of-factly. “‘S that a problem, Lieutenant Riley?”

Ghost frowns. “Is when you use my full name.”

Soap snorts. “Yeah, okay. Just shut up and sway to the music. Indulge me a smidge, would you?”

Though Ghost huffs, for whatever reason he can’t find it in himself to pull away.

As they do, in fact, sway—for a brief, terrifying moment, he thinks that maybe this isn’t the worst thing in the world, like he thought it’d be at first. Like he is trying to argue his brain into believing.

And he doesn’t mean the dancing part itself.

#simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #soapghost #ghostsoap #ghost x soap #ghoap #writing

[nymphybae]

Rainstorms with Alastor

It's unusual for hell to rain, yet this time the droplets grow heavier and thunders struck loud enough to make you unease. You shivered, covering your ears as you tried to focus on the television in front of you. Everybody else was asleep except for yourself, how can you when the storm reminded you of how you met your life's end.

The tv lost its signal and soon powered down, leaving you in an unsettling silence in the lounge room. You pursed your lips, feeling restless as you watch the rain pour from the window.

Footsteps were heard, coming closer into the room. You didn't need to second guess who it was, facing the red haired demon who looked down at you with a sly grin.

"Can't sleep my dear?"

"Yeah.. I just-" A loud thunder storm cut your sentence, immediately putting you in an anxious stance. Your hands were shaking, hugging yourself as an attempt to calm the pulsing in your heart.

Alastor puts his hand on your shoulder, giving you a faint squeeze. "Come with me."

You were a little curious, wondering why he's leading you to your own room.

"Would you like a cup of tea?" He asked, pulling the chair of the tea table you had next to the window. 

"I'd love it." You smiled as he motioned for you to sit. 

With a snap of his fingers, he conjured the equipments needed for the drink.

"This is my favourite batch of tea, it's aroma is just purely sweet as if it came straight from heaven, ha!" he brewed the pot with his dark magic. 

"Here." 

You took the cup, thanking him as you took a sip of the warm tea. Who would've thought the caffeine would help you so much. "It's really good! No wonder you order this batch every other month."

Alastor sat across you, holding a cup himself. He had a pleased smile on his face. "Glad to hear. Now, tell me what's troubling you so late at night?"

Should you really tell him? You figured it was too silly, especially for the radio demon himself. Out of all things that could displease you in hell are the vigorous sounds from outside.

"I hate thunderstorms." You admitted. He didn't say anything, as if waiting for you to continue so you did. You took a deep breath. "It reminds me of the little remnant memories I have left of my death. I lived below mountains, you see. My brothers locked me out of the house because I turned in on our family’s illegal trading to the police- which I obviously didn’t. Then a really terrible thunderstorm came, wiped out most of our crops and farmland. The heavy wind threw me down a lake and I drowned till water filled my lungs.” You took another sip of the tea. “I guess it wasn’t the death, it was the fact that my own blood betrayed me only because of their own assumptions, and I end up losing everything in the end. But they got to live, probably thinking that I left and never came back.” Your hand formed a fist at the thought. It was a short silence for a bit until Alastor spoke.

"Hah, Men.” He poured more tea into his cup. You chuckled at his remark. Who taught him that sort of phrase?

“When exactly did you die again?”

You hummed in thought. “Decades ago.. I can’t recall.” 

Alastor’s permanent smile remains plastered on his face. “Men are soulless and willingly disobedient during my time! There were always reports of disloyalty in newspaper. I would know, I broadcasted them in my radio show!” 

You clicked your tongue playfully. “So much for someone who was a serial killer.”

His grin grew. "Haha, But I was not a vicious idiot darling!" 

“Oh? Did you happen to have any experiences with men in your li-“

A lightning struck at the hotel's electric circuit.  electricity buzzed and every power in the hotel was cut off. The only bit of light in your room came from the windows. 

"Shit, see this is why i fucking hate the rain." You panicked, shuffling around in the dark until a pair of hands grasped you from moving and hitting the furnitures. You look up and saw his glowing red eyes. 

When you finally stood still, he pulled his hands off from you. "Don't worry yourself. I'll take care of this." 

"Wait- You can't leave me here." 

Alastor hums a familiar tune, holding up his cane as he gave you his arm to take.

You hesitated at first, taking his arm before you both teleported to his radio station. 

"Why are we here?" You asked, looking around his personal building.

"Who did you think manages the electricity here? I can't let outsiders control our power supply, especially that excuse for a television head!" He opens a large electrical box, taking a glance at all of the smoked up wires. You waited there awkwardly, covering your ears in preparation for the next thunder strike. 

"You’re just too good to be true, can’t take my eyes off of you~" he sung to himself, working on the wires. 

"Frankie Valli's a classic." You spoke out. He's been humming the song for the whole week now.

“Couldn’t agree more darling! Apologies if it’s bugging you. I suppose the song is stuck in my head for some time.” he turned on the said music on his radio.

“How ironic! I remember my last theatre show was me dancing to this song.” You tapped your feet to the beat.

Alastor walks over to you, taking both of your hands that were covering your ears. “Let’s see if those dance moves are still in tact.” 

The music swept through the room as they danced together, moving enthusiastically while you try to hold in your laughter.

I love you baby! And if it's quite alright, I need you baby. to warm a lonely night.

I love you baby, trust in me when I say

You felt warmth spread throughout your entire being as Alastor spun you around. All the anxiousness from the on going storm washed away as you lead the dance, guiding him through a series of steps.

And there, in the midst of the music and the rhythmic beat, he saw something in you that he had never seen before. A determination, a drive, and a passion that left him chuffed.

The music faded away, and so did the rainstorm. You were quite pleased at this, looking at Alastor with a bright smile. "That was fun. Didn't even realized the power went back on halfway through the dance."

He tilt his head, planting a gentle kiss onto your knuckles. "It's been a pleasure. I suppose now you'll feel much better to lay off in bed?"

You nodded. Why of course, as from now on the heavy thunderstorms will only remind you of this unforgettable night with your beloved co worker.

#hazbin hotel fluff #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin #hazbin hotel x reader

[sturnsbaebackup]

IS IT OVER NOW? - MATT STURNIOLO (PART TWO)

i highly recommend reading part one before you read this, which is linked here!

summary: after seeing matt at the party and admitting you still have feelings for him, things aren’t so radio silent between you two anymore.

warnings: not proof read lolll sorry if there’s typos 😛

—

immediately after the party, a week went by of still no contact from matt after your heated encounter with him.

at that party a few weeks ago, you spat out plenty of angry words at him and he did the same to you, which had been keeping you both up at night. both of you wishing you could take the entire situation back. you and matt just wanted each other, but neither of you knew how to break the silence. that was until matt decided to text you last week, asking if you wanted to go for a drive.

…

you hear your phone buzz as you begin to start falling asleep, and you groan in annoyance. you roll over in your bed and grab your phone off of the charger. your eyes nearly bulge out of your head as you see the familiar contact photo appear on your lock screen.

“what the fuck?” you blurt out, immediately sitting upright in your bed and opening his text.

matt | can i come pick you up in like 10 mins? i’m in the car and im not too far from you. we gotta talk

read 12:24 am

you take your sweet time rereading the text to make sure you’re not dreaming. it’s been pure radio silence from matt since the party, and the first thing he texts you is that?!

matt | you have your read receipts on yk

read 12:26 am

“oh fuck,” you mumble, immediately starting to type out a response. your hands are trembling a little due to all of the adrenaline coursing through your veins.

you | oops sorry but yeah ofc just text me when you’re here

he reacts to the message with a thumbs up, and you immediately bolt out of bed. you curl your eyelashes quickly and add a little bit of blush on your cheeks and nose. he knows you were about to sleep, so there’s no point in putting on obvious makeup. you grab a random hoodie from your closet and throw on some slippers. you look homeless, but who cares. it’s just matt.

that’s what you keep repeating in your head to yourself in an attempt to calm the nerves that are practically doing somersaults in your stomach.

it’s just matt. it’s just matt. its just matt. nothing to be scared of. it’s just matt.

your thoughts are broken up when your phone dings with the message of matt letting you know he’s waiting in the car outside. you exhale deeply as you lock the door behind you, shivering in the cold, late night, los angeles air. muffled music can be heard from the outside of matt’s car, and his eyes are glued to his phone. he’s just as nervous as you are, maybe even more.

your hand wraps around the door handle, and you pull it gently in an attempt to not frighten matt. his eyes look up at you and lock with yours, making your heart skip a beat.

“hi matt,” you say awkwardly as you sit in his passenger seat.

“y/n, hi,” he smiles softly, beginning to put the car in drive. you keep your eyes down at your feet as the car begins to drive away, the silence killing you internally. in previous moments like this, you both would be fighting over aux not even a minute into the car ride, but this time it’s dead silent with quiet music playing in the back.

“so, you wanted to talk?” you blurt out, your mouth moving faster than your brain.

“yeah, but i was hoping maybe we could get some mc donald’s before we have the serious conversation? you know, like old times,” he says, reminding you of the times where after a bad fight you guys would talk things out in a parking lot over a shared mcflurry and fries.

you let out a soft chuckle, “yeah okay, sounds perfect.” the silence isn’t as awkward as before, but the tension is so tense you genuinely could cut it with a knife. your thumbs fiddle in the front pocket of your sweatshirt as you wait for the traffic light to change, the mcdonald’s drive thru being at the other end of the intersection.

“can i get two oreo mcflurrys and a large fry?” matt asks the lady working the drive thru. she calculates the total and you immediately reach for your wallet to grab your card, but matt quickly stops you.

his hand now rests on your forearm, “no y/n. let me pay, i’m the one who dragged you out so late,” he smiles softly. when he notices his hand on your arm he quickly takes it off, making your heart sink a little. ‘things aren’t how they used to be, we aren’t dating, and you need to realize that,’ you mentally tell yourself.

eventually you guys get your food and pull into the far back corner of the parking lot. it’s very dimly lit but the flickering florescent street light that’s shining on matt is making the dark bags under his eyes extremely visible. you’re quick to notice them, and you instantly know he hasn’t been getting much sleep at all, and you have a guess that the reason is what he’s about to talk to you about.

he unbuckles the seatbelt and rotates in his seat, resting his back against his door facing you. “so… first of all how’ve you been?”

you pick up a fry from the bag that rests on the center console, letting it cool off between your fingers as you speak up. “i’ve been uh— you know. just living, i guess. how have you been?” you shrug, putting the fry in your mouth.

“not good, honestly. that’s why i texted you,” matt admits, looking down at his thumbs that reside in his lap. your heart drops at his statement and an overwhelming feeling of sadness rushes over you. if you and matt were still dating, you would be pulling him in a tight hug and holding his head against your chest. but you can’t do that, so you just sit and looking at him.

“what?” you ask, hoping you heard him wrong.

“i haven’t been getting much sleep. like, at all. i really miss you, and i fucked up at that party. i never should’ve been trying to make you jealous with her. that wasn’t fair to either of you, and your words keep playing through my mind every night. it keeps me up at night.”

you take a moment to process what you’re hearing, and sigh. “matt come here,” you say, putting your mcflurry down into the cupholder and leaning over the center console to hug matt. he looks up at you with sad eyes, confused at what you’re about to do, but as soon as he realizes, he immediately hugs you back.

you pull his head into your chest and rest your hand over his left cheek, making sure to hold him as close as possible. you press gentle kisses on the top of his head as your fingers play with the ends of his hair.

“i miss you, y/n. i love you so much and i’m so sorry i thought we needed space, i was so unbelievably wrong. i was just going through a weird phase for like a month and shoved you away, but i really think you’re the only person who can calm me down. you bring me back to earth, y/n,” matt mumbles against your chest.

“shh matty, it’s okay. we don’t need to talk about it yet, let’s just enjoy the moment,” you mutter into his hair softly. eventually you and matt break the hug and continue to catch up on everything you guys have missed in each others lives within the last few weeks.

“speaking of clothing— is that my hoodie?” matt asks you, sidetracking from your conversation.

you look down at the gray nike sweatshirt that rests on your body, and your cheeks flare up with heat. “oh my god! that’s so embarrassing, i had no idea this was yours. i just grabbed the first hoodie i could find. i swear i thought i gave this back to you,” you blush.

matt chuckles, “keep it. it looks cute on you. plus, you’re just gonna end up stealing all of the hoodies you gave back to me.”

“you know me so well,” you laugh as you throw a fry at matt.

“hey watch it! i just got the car cleaned!”

#matthew sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo angst #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo imagine #christopher sturniolo imagine #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine

[roycevelvet]

Darkness at the heart of my love

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x reader Warnings: none Notes: again, don't know where this is going, many ideas, never an ending hihi. Also, listen to this song, it was my muse for this thing/chapter whatever you wanna call it lol.

You traced the faded design on your chipped nail polish, lost in memories of a summer filled with his laughter and stolen kisses. It seemed like ages ago, those sunny days when his voice was always there, comforting and familiar. Now, as you waited for him to answer the phone, you couldn't help but feel the weight of all that had shifted.

"Hey, babe" Noah's voice finally rasped through the phone, heavy with sleep. It was the first time you'd heard from him in days.

"Hey" you forced a smile. "I was starting to think you'd forgotten about me."

He chuckled, but it lacked its usual warmth. "Sorry, busy week. Soundchecks, interviews, you know...”

You bit your lip, pushing down the familiar pang of loneliness. "Yeah, I figured," you mumbled. You weren't sure if you were more hurt by the missed calls or the casual dismissal of your absence, like he hadn't missed you at all.

The silence stretched, thick with unspoken emotions. Finally, you gathered your courage. "So, when do you think we can have a proper talk? It’s been a while since, you know, we’ve had an actual conversation that lasted longer than 5 minutes.”

"Honestly, (Y/N), it's been crazy. I don't know when things will settle down."

The truth stung. You knew it wasn't just the tour schedule anymore. He wasn't making the effort, and your once vibrant connection felt like a fading radio signal, distorted and barely there.

"Okay," you said, your voice cracking slightly. "I understand."

You ended the call quickly as you didn't want him to hear you cry. The quiet in your small apartment felt overwhelming, tears welled in your eyes. It made it hard to see as you scrolled through X.

Among the bright lights and pictures of concerts, there he was. Noah, laughing with a bunch of fans, his arm around a pretty blonde girl, her smile big and happy.

A wave of nausea washed over you. You knew, logically, that he was a celebrity, bound to interact with fans. But the sight of him so close to another woman, the intimacy of his touch, ignited a jealousy you hadn't anticipated.

It wasn't just jealousy, though. It was a deeper feeling of insecurity that had been bothering you for weeks. It ate away at your confidence, leaving you feeling empty inside. You started to wonder if you were just a temporary fix in his glamorous world when he came back home.

Every time Noah didn't respond to your messages or calls, it felt like a punch in the gut. You felt completely alone, like you were drowning in a sea of uncertainty, desperately clinging to the hope that Noah would throw you a lifeline.

But he never did. Instead, he brushed aside your attempts to share your feelings, making empty promises and offering half-hearted apologies. It felt like he didn't really care about you anymore, as if you didn't matter in the grand scheme of his busy life.

When you called, he was always laughing with someone in the background, always busy, always talking. Other times, he was tired, his voice heavy with exhaustion, or sleepy, his words slurred as he struggled to stay awake. But his attention was never one hundred percent on you. It was as if he existed in a world that never slowed down, a whirlwind that left little room for anything else, for anyone else.

One evening, as you sat alone, feeling sad and listening to music, how poetic. The lyrics of "Darkness at the Heart of My Love," the song you and Noah shared, echoed around the room. Now, the lyrics felt hollow, a cruel reminder of a love that couldn't survive the distance.

A bitter smile twisted your lips. The summer had died, taking your love with it. You finally understood Noah's silence. It wasn't just about the tour schedule; it was about him choosing a different path, a path that didn't include you.

The anger that had been simmering beneath finally boiled over. You grabbed your phone and dialed his number, your fingers trembling slightly. He answered after the first ring, his voice laced with surprise.

"Is that it, Noah?" you began, your voice surprisingly steady despite the storm raging within you. "Is this how it ends? With unanswered calls and texts and photos with girls who look like they stepped out of a magazine?"

The silence on the other end was heavy and suffocating. Noah was surprised by your sudden outburst, his usually quick response delayed as he struggled with your words. 

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Noah spoke.”I… I don't know what to say, (Y/N). It's not like that."

He sighed. Did he just fucking sigh at your words? This making you even angrier than you already were.

"Then what is it like, Noah?" you asked, raging. "Why do I feel like I'm always waiting for you, but you don’t seem to need me?”

There was a pause, a long silence again. And then, Noah's voice said “I’m sorry, (Y/N). I've been so caught up in everything... I didn't mean to make you feel this way."

His words made you feel hopeful at first. But then doubt crept in, whispering that maybe he did mean it to make you feel this way. After all, he had been practically ignoring you for weeks, so why would things suddenly change now?

"Tell me, Noah," you continued, your voice shaking slightly as you recite the lyrics of your shared song. "Does your love have a darkness? Does it run cold, deep, like the lyrics you so readily quote all the time?"

Noah's answer came quickly, his words rushing out. "No, (Y/N), it's not like that. I love you, I really do. But... I've been struggling with everything."

You listened, feeling a tug on your heart with each word he said. But even as he opened up about his struggles, you couldn't shake the lingering question: why hadn't he reached out to you sooner? Why had he left you feeling lost and alone, without any explanation?

"Goodbye, Noah," you said, the weight of the word crushing you as much as it crushed him.

You didn't wait for a response. You didn't need one. You ended the call, the silence on the other end told you everything you needed to know.

—

But the silence wouldn't last forever. Occasionally, you'd be brought back to reality by the harsh ringtone cutting through silence. Your heart would skip a beat, hoping it was Noah finally reaching out, but it was never Noah.

Everything seemed to remind you of him, yet you never felt lonelier. You couldn't help but wonder why Noah never bothered to reach out, not even once. Did you really mean that little to him? Were you really that disposable?

In the days after, you kept busy with work or watching Netflix late into the night, trying to avoid thinking about Noah. But he was always there, like a ghost in your thoughts.

You tried to find comfort in your usual daily routine, but it couldn't fill the emptiness. The coffee tasted bitter, hanging out with friends felt empty, and the nights felt long and lonely.

You tried to move on, exploring new things and even going on a few dates. But every new situationship felt like a weak copy of what you had with Noah. He had made a big impression on your heart, and no matter how much time passed or how far you went, you couldn't forget it.

Despite the hurt, there was a small shimmer of hope. You wished, deep down, that someday he would return, willing to fight for you. Though you felt really silly and stupid for even dare to think this way.

But even as you struggled with everything, life kept marching on. You started to find joy again in unexpected places, glimpses of happiness.

And slowly, ever so slowly, the ache in your heart began to simmer down. It didn't disappear entirely – you doubted it ever would – but it became more bearable, a constant companion rather than an overwhelming force.

You threw yourself into your passions, rediscovering the things that brought you joy before Noah had come crashing into your life. Music became your refuge once more, the melodies and lyrics you hadn't realized you'd been missing.

—

One evening, a couple of months later, you had a small gig at a nearby bar. It was a simple chance to share your songs with a small crowd which you really appreciated. 

The concert was fantastic, but you did feel kinda relieved when it ended. As you left the stage, still buzzing with adrenaline, you were met with cheers and applause from the small but enthusiastic crowd. Lottie and Taylor, your ever-supportive best friends, beaming with excitement.

“(Y/N), you were absolutely stunning out there!" Lottie exclaimed, pulling you into a tight hug. "I'm so proud of you!"

"Seriously, (Y/N), that was incredible," Taylor chimed in, her voice filled with genuine admiration. "You absolutely smashed it!"

You smiled at your friends, feeling grateful for their constant support. Together, you moved through the crowd, settling into a cozy booth.

The air was filled with the scent of beer and the sound of people chatting and clinking glasses. Laughter and shared memories filled the air, recalling inside jokes and cherished memories.

They skillfully avoided mentioning Noah though, as they were fuming with him for how he had broken their best friend down to a shadow of herself. 

You were thankful for them, as they had been there since the start, helping you through the heartbreak.

As the night went on and the drinks kept coming, you got lost in the fun with your friends, forgetting about time and how much you had to drink. But just when you were starting to relax and enjoy the moment, you felt someone looking at you.

You turned around and saw Noah, his expression hard to figure out but somehow familiar. And in that quick moment, it was just the two of you, silently looking at each other. Everything else around you disappearing.

To be continued.

#noah sebastian #nick folio #nicholas ruffilo #jolly karlsson #bad omens #angst #light angst #fluff #bad omens fan fic #bad omens fic #fan fic #fan fiction #fanfic #fandom

[nescaveckwriter]

Smoky Old Barrooms, Saving Grace & Guitars - Chapter Two💕

A/N: Oh bugs, 💕 this is so much fun to write, I hope y'all enjoy this💕

Warnings: Drinking, angst, fluff, just it I think 🫣

Also Please Note: These songs used, is not written by me, so full credit to the artists.💕

''No way Bobby'' he sneered

''Dean listen to me, this is just what your career needs'' he pleaded

''Forget it! I'm the freaking superstar, I'm not gonna babysit a wannabe country singer''

His voice getting angry now, ''Listen to me son, you are not the 'Superstar' you think you are''

He smirks ''Oh yeah, then why is there hundreds of people at my shows?''

''Because they want to see, the old you, the one with songs from the soul, but all they get are covers, of drinking and shit, if you go-on like this, your going to end up, going from a great artist to who is that playing on the radio'' he hissed

Shocked by the words coming out of the mouth, who he presumed to be more than just a manager, more than just a friend, more like a father. He grabs his jacket and keys and storms out of the door, getting into his Chevy Impala .

''Another whisky on the rocks, please doll'' the little giddy woman, makes her way towards the bar, grabbing his fifth glass. Glancing through the smoky barroom, its a place where most famous artist's hang out, to relax or get drunk or get lucky, but its a nice joint, nice music always playing. He knows Bobby is right but by hearing it just made him so angry, hell he already feels old and washed up, it's as-if the great music is no where to be found inside of him, in all honesty, most days his caught between living and leaving.

 ''There you go, sir'' she smiles interrupting his deep thinking , ''Yeah thanks'' smiling as he sees her number written down on a napkin, ''maybe I'll call her up a little later'' he mumbles to himself. As his sipping his liquid gold, he hears a sweet deep-laced southern voice, he look's up towards the stage, bell bottom blue jeans, a black shirt, with a black leather jacket, her strawberry blonde  in those loose curls framing her delicate face.

''Howdy y'all, so sweet Jerry over there asked me to do a little song or two, and I were wondering, what y'all wanted to hear, are we feeling happy? or in the mood for a bit of blues perhaps?'' 

The whole crowd goes wild cheering, screaming they wanted to hear a heartbreak song  She just smiled and started strumming her guitar, tapping her boots on the barstool, her voice sounded angelic and full of emotion, the room silenced as they listened to her 

It's just a year today

One year since he went away

So happy birthday, dear heartache

You're one year old today

There'll be the cake tonight

One candle I'm gonna light

So happy birthday, dear heartache

Old love still burns tonight

When he walked out, I felt my heart break

That's when you came to me, dear heartache

You made my heart your home

Now look how big you've grown

Looks like each guest is here

The blues, the memories, and the tears

So happy birthday, dear heartache

Same time, same place next year

So happy birthday, dear heartache

Same time, same place next year

As her voice glides over the audience, Dean can't help but think that women, can sing, not only is she beautiful but she's different than the other, there's something unique about her presence, he smiled as she finished the song, also clapping when she said ''thank you, y'all''

He gets caught off guard as she spoke pointing towards him ''Look y'all, Nashville's very own, top charting country-rock artist, 'hey Mr. Winchester, want to join me up here for a little song, what do you say?''

He nods, gets off his chair, thankful that he'd only had five glasses, and that his still sober enough for this little event, tilting his imaginary hat, as he greets her, whispering ''so you know who I am, but what's your name'' she just smiled and said ''you can call me Grace, cowboy''

After they discussed which song too play, they both a slight nervous wondering if there voices, together will work, his deep voice starts,

''Once I made a promise

That I'd never lead you on

But I feel the yearn to love you

Even though I know it's wrong''

her angelic voice fills the next lines

''You'll have to take my hand

And lead me slowly through the door

I'll be wrong in what I'm doin'

I can't refuse you anymore''

but it's when there voices collide, leaving the people in the barroom stunned

''Lead me on

And take control of how I feel

I can't do this on my own

'Cause it's against my will

I need love warm and tender

In a way, I've never known

If you want me, I'll go with you

But you'll have to lead me on''

Both off them smile while singing the familiar country song, there eyes connect in the way you only see in movies, there voices together sounds like a symphony of wonder, letting you believe in magic of true country music again, leaving the two artists stunned, about how well they fit together. When the song was done, and the crowd cheered, hand claps everywhere, it wasn't long after, when the people started begging for more off there songs, but it was Grace that said ''thank y'all but I have to go now'' thanking Dean and the crowd she got off, slinging her guitar over her thin-framed shoulders, she walked outside, inhaling the fresh air, so she can stop the uneasy rising and falling off her chest.

Still waiting for a cab to come pick her up, to go home, and get some rest, she hears his voice behind her ''going so soon?''

Smiling, and calming her racing heart a little, thinking if only her heart were racing, because of this hunk of a man in front of her, it would've felt good, ''Hey, yeah, I've got a early morning photo shoot, for the cover of my album, and if I'm late my manager is going to be crazy angry'' she laughed a little

Running his hand at the back of his neck ''Oh! so your a well known artist yourself, sorry I didn't know''

Laughter rolling over her lips, ''don't you worry cowboy, my ego aren't as big yours, I don't get easily offended'' she mocks

Laughter fills the airy night, as he's amused by the way she mocks him, without holding back, as most women around him always tries to say something that will soothe his ego. ''I don't have a big ego'' 

''Now I know, I don't personally know you too well, but one thing's for sure your lying to yourself there. the smile curving at her full lips, is enough to make his heart flutter a little

His green eyes, sparkling, for the first time in a long time, ''We can always make a plan to arrange, so that you can get too know me better'' he mocks

The cab pulls up, and as she gets in, she smiles, her voice sweet and fruity ''Now don't you go falling in love with me cowboy''

He can't help the slight dorky smile forming, ''who's gotten the ego now, thinking I'll fall for a woman like you'' shaking his head, as-if she's my type anyway, but something in his chest, flutters as he sees her hand dancing through the wind, as the streetlight shines on her face, giving her a slight -reddish halo, her voice giving him a exhilarating  as she shouts ''goodnight cowboy''

His response was too late, as the cab drove off, leaving him standing there, feeling intrigued by this woman. Taking out his phone, dialing Bobby, leaving only his voicemail tone ''Hey, Bobby, I don't know who you wanted to set me up with, but I just met someone, I want to sing with her, help me find her please, and sorry about earlier.

As he walked over to his car, he can't help too feel a bit more alive, tonight as his done in awhile, he needs to find her again, like he needs air too breathe, singing that duet with her, was absolutely amazing, letting him almost feel about music the way he used too before everything gone wrong, leaving him only half a person. With a smile he gets in, there's a stirring of some new words in his heart, maybe a potential song or two, with the humming of a new tune, he drives into the night. 

Chapter One Here :)

Chapter Two Here :)

Chapter Three Here :)

#Spotify #spotify #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #jared padalecki #jensen ackles x reader #sam and dean #dean winchester imagine #old barrooms saving grace & guitars #nescveckwriter

[stararch4ngelqueen]

La Dama Sin Cara (18+)

Part 7 of Ghosts and Mirages

Warning: STRONG mentions of blood/gore/violence! Heavy angst, use of guns/knives. Breach of trust, trust issues, jealousy, mentions of suicide, suicide letters. HEAVY smut, choking, aggressive sex, radio sex, overstimulation, unprotected sex, minor knife play, mirror sex, slight bondage, possessive kinks.

!Please Beware! This part contains multiple chapters, with their own unique summaries, tags/warnings!

Summary: Trust was everything to him, just as it was to you. You trusted him as much as you adored him to not hurt you, those were your own words. He trusted you to not actively seek out that pain, believing he was keeping you physically safe. You should’ve known better then to be too curious.

Additional Summary: Will take place into leading mission into Las Almas, where you learn the cultures of Mexico and its hidden vipers, alongside your new teammates, as well as discovering the consequences of your own actions.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Mirage? You listening?"

"What? Yeah, I am."

"Right. So, they're estimating we'll be arriving aroun' 0200, hopefully we'll be back before mornin, y'know?"

"Mhm."

"Yeah," Soap slowed his words, staring at your bowed head, your gaze lingering down along your plate in front of you. "An' if you were listenin' to me, you'd agree that I'm a better shot than you."

"In your dreams." You looked back at him while stabbing your fork into your food, smirking just a bit at his cheeky grin.

“Christ, eat woman. Or I’ll force feed ya myself.” He muttered while bringing his spoon down towards his tray, watching you roll your eyes before shoving food in your mouth.

The two of you found each other during dinner time, taking up residence at one of the vacant tables by the entrance. Usually, Gaz would join the both of you, but his current mission with Price had him in Amsterdam, but you weren't saying you enjoyed Soap's company any less if he wasn't here regardless.

With the raging lines entering the mess hall dimming down significantly, you could eat more comfortably with your mask off, sitting in a way where anyone would at least see the normal side of your face upon first glance without doing unnecessary double takes.

Everyone stares, it's the human's natural curiosity. Even you were victim to it, but it didn't make you feel any better regardless of how many times you've tried to ignore it.

"So," You brought your knuckle over your lips. "You want me to be completely oblivious if he asks me?"

"I'm just sayin' if he asks, pretend you don't know nothing. That's all."

Soap watched your head nod, smiling a bit before losing focus once more. You looked like you had an awful lot on your mind lately, and he wasn't too sure why. Maybe it was just for the mission the two of you were assigned to tonight, wondering if you were planning on getting in a few hours of sleep before the trip.

The silence made him a little weary, clicking his tongue purposefully loud to break you from your thoughts.

"Christ, for a woman like you, I'd imagine you'd pay better attention to your superiors."

"A woman like me?" You huffed as your head rose again, reaching your left hand over for your drink. "Elaborate, please. I'm dying to know what you mean by that."

"Oh, y'know, a woman like you." He gestured at you with his spoon, swallowing his food before continuing. "Yer strong, smart, got bigger bollocks than any other man I've met thus far."

"Easy there, Ghost might get jealous." You snickered a little, watching him smirk. "Eh, Simon ain't around to glare at me for it, think I'm in the clear."

You giggled again, setting your cup down beside you. "You're sweet John, but you're just being nice."

"I'm bein' serious, learn to take a damn compliment every once in a while." His brow firmed, making your gaze grow a bit firmer towards the Scotsman.

"What you've been through to get here now, an' everything that's happened in between, I need to admit, I admire you, lass. You're still standin' an' still smilin', that takes strong guts."

You reached for your drink again, lowering your gaze for a moment down into the liquid in your cup. Your mind raced with various thoughts, not really expecting a talk to from Soap like this of all times like now, of all places.

"Hey," John spoke up to gain back your attention, watching your eyes nervously glance up back at him. "Hope I didn't make you nervous, it's just... I don't know, you've changed is all. Just wanted to remind you of the strong woman I see now. The one who looks like she'll kick me under the table if I say another word."

Change? You almost snorted into your cup, catching the thin streams of liquid that rolled down the sides of your lips.

"Jesus, John." Reaching for the napkin he held out to you with a loud chuckle, you cleaned your mouth before composing yourself, showing him a slight smile after that minorly embarrassing outburst.

After composing yourself, your eyes trailed down towards his casually rested forearm on the table. You reached your hand out to rest against the back of his large palm.

As sweet as he was trying to be, a small part of you deep in your mind wanted to refuse his words. Compliments like these were flattering, sure, but you were just you. Despite what's happened, you were just as much of a soldier as anyone else.

Still, you couldn't deny the warmth that spread throughout your chest from his words.

"You don't have to say those things, John. I appreciate it though. Thanks."

"Aye." John smiled a little more, glancing down at your hand, his gaze following as you removed it.

"Is he starin' at me?" He suddenly asked in a low mutter.

"Who?"

"Ghost." He states, making you raise a brow. Ghost?

Your eyes flicked upwards towards the exit, spotting none other than the tall, ever so familiar man standing in the vacant entryway behind Soap.

His posture was stiff, his shoulder pressed against the left side of the wall he leaned against. His broad arms were crossed, his head tilted downwards as he glared at Soap with hard, narrowed eyes at the display, almost making the whites of his eyes look nonexistent from the black paint shadowing his lids.

Maybe he heard every word Mactavish said, or maybe he came and saw the moment your hand settled on his. Regardless, he stood there like a bouncer at a nightclub, glaring down at someone who tried entering with a fake ID.

"No. He isn't." You chose to say, meeting John's gaze with your attempt at a serious expression.

"You're a terrible liar, lass." John squinted his eyes at you, watching your corners of your lips diligently try to refrain from smiling.

"Check." You flicked your head upwards, watching him turn his head to look over his shoulder.

Just like you expected, he was gone. As if he was never there.

The relieved look on John's face right after left you trying to use every facial muscle you could to stop smiling.

"Coulda swore he was there." John chuckled just a bit, proceeding to smirk at you again. "You looked like you had hearts in your eyes when you looked up."

"Oh, fuck off," You giggled, picking your abandoned fork off your tray.

"You sure he didn't come by to view his most favorite Seargent?" You tilted your head, watching his hand freeze. His brows fiercely furrowed, looking at you with an intense look of confusion.

"Who? Me?" He pointed at himself.

"Duh. Who else?"

"N-no," He chuckled, proceeding to shake his head. "No, lass. Don't get any ideas."

"Are you blushing??" You smiled more, starting to laugh when he shook his head again, a faint flush kissing his cheeks. "John! That's cute!"

"Christ, enough!" He barks at you, unable to hide a smile as you laughed again, joining in with you when you head tilted back in amusement.

"Forget everythin' I said. You didn't change a bit, kid."

"So, who exactly is it again?"

"Major Hassan. Long story short, the Ambassador I was sent to oversee get executed during a meeting with the Russians a few months back, this is his second in command."

"So, he's got all this army together and upgraded in less than three months?"

"It has been three months, but you're correct."

You asked questions you already knew the answers to, all for the sake of putting up the minor facade to keep Ghost from questioning otherwise. That was the plan, supposedly he had no idea that you and Soap were getting assigned under his command to go tonight.

You found him in his office after dinner, busying himself with his work. His office space was quite similar to Price's, but more... plain. Bland.

Price's office had a bit more character, which was a fancy way of saying he had a lot more clutter during the time you spent with him, mostly due to the fact he was always busy with the paperwork. That was part of being a Captain after all, it wasn't all just leading soldiers into battle.

Ghost's office was neater, no clutter of any kind laying around along his desk or overflowing the filing cabinets. All the offices that you've seen looked the same; limited space, bare bones walls, all sealed in by a single door.

When you came in after knocking, Ghost glared at you like nothing more than a recruit, an unknowing fly invading his personal space. In a matter of seconds, upon recognizing your pretty face once you pulled down your mask, his hardened, cold gaze melted just a bit.

You two spoke for a short while, the man attempting to continue his work, but eventually set down his long-forgotten pen. His eyes followed you as you mindlessly paced around his office, not really finding much to look at to keep yourself visually occupied.

You set Ghost's mug of lukewarm tea down on his desk after nursing on it while he spoke, exhaling a little bit while crossing your arms. "Wow, looks like you got your work cut out for you then." You paced away from his desk a bit, bringing your thumbnail to your mouth. "Capture mission, right?"

"Right," Ghost nodded once, watching you from where he sat in his chair. He didn't have spare chairs. He wasn't keen on visitors in his office in the first place.

“C’mere.”

“What?” You turned your head to look at him.

He glared at you, raising his settled hand from his lap to beckon you over with two fingers.

“I said, come here.”

Lowering your hand, you came closer, walking around the edge of his desk to stop in front of him as he turned his chair to face you.

"Why're you here?" He asked, watching you avoid your gaze for a split second before shrugging. "Just wanted to come see you."

"Did you now?" His large hands settled along your waist, instinctively making you take a step closer. "Sure it wasn't for somethin' else?"

Your hands settled along his shoulders, watching his head tilt to look you firmly in the eye. Small height differences like these never mattered, with eyes like his, piercing cold blue on a shade of pink tinted white canvases, he always looked stern, even if he didn’t intend to be. Or maybe it was just his mask doing a very, very good job.

"Tell me, love." He says, giving your waist a minor, semi-warning squeeze.

You leaned closer, keeping eye contact while settling your forehead over his. Being this close left you taking in his natural scent, his sharp, spicy musk mixed with a hint of generic aftershave from this morning, scents that had no business being so comforting, but they were his.

"Are you still jealous over John?" You confessed.

“Which one?” He gruffly questions.

“The one you stared down earlier,” You retorted, huffing a bit.

"What're you jealous over? What did we leave out last time? Hmm?" You leaned your head down to the side, pressing a kiss against his covered jaw before bringing your head back.

"Nothin," He mutters, giving your hips another additional squeeze, his palms slowly lowering down the sides of your thighs.

“Are you jealous because we laugh a lot? Is it cause Soap makes me laugh?"

He didn't look all too pleased with your choice of words. You tilted your head a bit, thinking of something else to say.

“Try it." You then proposed. "Make me laugh."

"You serious?" His brows either furrowed or raised in surprise.

You looked at him with said seriousness while nodding, giving him a bit of a shrug. "Tell me a joke.”

Ghost blinked, finding himself caught a bit off guard by your words. Tell you a joke? What an interesting request.

"Alright." He lowered his arms, folding his hands together in his lap while sitting forward.

“You’re aware that the terms ‘I’m sorry’ an’ ‘I apologize’ are the same thing, right?” He starts off, watching your face contort while thinking.

“Yeah,” you nodded slowly.

“Right. Well, not at a funeral it isn’t.”

You blinked. Ghost blinked right back at you, watching for any sign of... something. Anything.

Your lips started to curl, turning your head to the side as your cheeks puffed. A small snort left your mouth, followed by a growing giggle as the dam quickly fell apart.

Ghost simply continued to stare at you, watching the way your eyes closed as you tilted your head back, your arms falling out of their crossed position. It wasn't a loud bellow, nor was it really an overexaggerated chuckle. It was an honest laugh, your honest laugh, and he could tell was genuine.

That was more than enough to make his heart flutter.

"Christ Simon, not bad." You smiled through your words, "Didn’t know you were hiding some jokes in that head of yours.”

"You'd be scared to find what goes on in it." He sat back in his seat just a bit. "We all have our fair share of secrets to hide, kid."

“Oh, sure. I have a ton of secrets in my fluffy diaries.” You mused, settling your arm comfortably behind his shoulders, pressing your thumb along a strain of muscles that had his eyelids slowly lowering in delight.

"On a side note, I don't like keeping secrets from people I care about." Your voice was soft, as if you were speaking to yourself. Convincing yourself that you would never do such a thing.

His gaze lingered on your face, his hidden lips turning downwards for just a minor second or two.

"That a promise, sweetheart?" He questions you, glancing at you as you reached for the mug once again.

“Of course.” You smile at him before taking another sip of his tea, watching his eyes slowly soften with your answer, though something was a little off about the way he looked at you. You couldn't exactly place your finger towards how.

Releasing your hold on him, you took a step back until you leaned comfortably against his desk, cradling his mug in your hands.

“That can't be comfortable.”

“It feels fine to me.” You adjusted your footing, running your palm along the edge of his desk. “It's quite sturdy.”

He hummed a bit, proceeding to offer his left hand towards you. You rested your palm against his, smiling a little when his thumb brushed along the back of your hand.

“Get off.” He gave your hand a firm tug.

“Make me." You stated, determined to stay where you were.

“My office isn’t the place for that.” His eyes hardened at your choice of words.

“Offices are boring," You rolled your eyes, setting the now empty mug down. "I bet you if I walked in here in a coat with nothing under it, you’d change your mind.”

A hidden brow rose at your sudden, peculiarly interesting choice of words. “You suggestin' that I’m missing a coat rack in here?”

“You have any I can borrow? Coats, I mean.”

“Got a gray one. You could borrow that, if you get off my bloody desk.”

"Again, Mr. Riley. Make me."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Enjoy the chapter so far? Enjoy the rest of these (smutty) chapters on my Ao3!

Read here as well on my Wattpad!

#ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty #simon riley smut #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley #captain john price #soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #ghosts & mirages #alejandro vargas #valeria garza #rodolfo parra #philip graves

[missingmark]

can’t wait for pt 3!!

― old habits die hard pt.3 (final part)

Picking up your sister from her own prom Matt takes the second chance he's been presented to tell you all the things he never said.

‧₊˚ matt x fem!reader

‧₊˚ warnings: reader has nails done again and makeup on! also not proofread bc im tired and its 2 am :c ill do it tomorrow tho (?)

‧₊˚ word count: 1.4k

‧₊˚ masterlist - part 1 | part 1.5 | part 2

‧₊˚ want to be on the taglist?

Matt thought about holding your hand.

This has been a recurring urge for the past 3 years now but for the first time in weeks he couldn’t act upon it and it was really taking all of his self control to not reach for your fingers that were resting on top of your thigh, drumming a mindless pattern into the material of your pants as you looked out of the window.

His hand would sometimes inch a bit towards yours, but everytime they even so much as grazed your fingers you would suddenly reach for your water or for the phone to change the song.

All the signs were pointing towards the fact that you’re mad at him or that your feelings about him have changed in some sort of negative sense over the last few days.

He tried not to sigh too loudly but he was growing more and more frustrated and worried with how distant you seemed lately.

The call from your sister, asking you if you could maybe pick her up from prom was an opportunity for Matt to get some time alone with you, in the hopes of discussing this sudden tension that had formed seemingly out of nowhere between the two of you.

He parked somewhere in front of his old school, the familiar building seemed much different tonight, but in a whole other way than it did during his own prom night.

The music was still softly playing on the radio and every once in a while Matt would glance towards you, one of his hands resting on the steering wheel, the other on his thigh.

“I texted her we’re here, she says she’ll say goodbye to her friends and will be out in a minute,” you mumbled, your eyes trained on your phone, not once meeting Matt’s eyes.

He just hummed in acknowledgement, a silence that was so unusually awkward hung in the air and it physically pained him that for the first time in Matt’s life he didn’t feel as though you and him were even friends at all.

“I hate this,” he murmured, his head finally turning towards you, burning holes into the side of your head as he waited for you to reciprocate his stare.

“High school?” You questioned jokingly, knowing exactly what he was actually talking about but hoping that he wouldn’t start this conversation. “You know what I mean,” Matt murmured, this time he reached out for your hand, a sudden bravery overcoming him that he wasn’t aware he had.

Your eyes fell onto his hand, resting on top of yours, tracing mindless shapes into the back of your hand as he waited for you to speak.

“You wanna sit on the bleachers for a bit while we wait?” 

It wasn’t what Matt had expected you to say, but any words that were directed towards him with your full intent were cherished and appreciated by him at this point and so he hopped out of the car as quick as he possibly could, walking around to open your door and pulling you towards the familiar field with a hopeful smile on his face.

The bleachers looked just as strange and unfamiliar as they did two years ago, only this time there was some sense of melancholy mixed in between, it was weird seeing this place again after you had spent almost every day of your life for 4 years here.

“Isn’t it weird?” Matt began, “to be here again, I mean.”

You thought back to your high school self, how much effort and time you put into wearing your hair the way that Matt had complimented it once when the two of you were twelve, the way you did your Makeup and practised slow dancing over and over again just in case he might ask you that night. 

In more ways than one you were here again.

“Yeah, I guess so,” is the answer you ultimately settle on, your eyes staying on the floor as you tried to distract yourself from the fact every glance at his face made you want to kiss him.

“You called me pretty that night, for the first time after 3 years of friendship,” you spoke, no real emotion behind your words, you spoke it like a fact and there was a bittersweetness to the memory.

“I think that was the only time you called me pretty, actually.”

It was in this split second that Matt had realised something so crucial and life-changingly important, he was almost embarrassed he didn’t think about it sooner.

As the light from inside the building illuminated your face, that was just as beautiful now as it was then, in the same way that it had during your own prom night Matt noticed that this might be the second chance he had been wishing for ever since to say what he didn’t get to say the first time around.

“But you know I think you do,” he scooted a bit closer to you, his hand taking yours into his, “I always think you’re pretty.”

Matt has never seen you blush before, or at least he hadn't noticed, but the sight, even in this darkness, was one he couldn’t get enough of and he suddenly saw how good it feels to speak his mind.

Neither you nor him could have expected his next words.

“I should have kissed you that night.”

He scoots a little closer

“And every night after that.”

His voice softening.

“I should have asked you to dance and I should spend my time telling you how pretty you are instead of just thinking about it.”

Your heart had never beaten this fast and the more he spoke the more you were convinced you were dreaming all of this.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is that I should have told you I like you. Because I do, still and the thought of not being your friend, at the very least, has killed me the past few days.”

He waits for you to speak, clearly noticing you still needed some time to process all his words.

“I never knew…,” you began, leaning onto your hand to get even closer to Matt.

“I didn’t think you felt the same.”

“Wait…the same?” 

It was Matt’s turn to blush.

“Obviously, you goof.”

“I thought you were developing a crush on Chris.”

“Ew.”

“My thoughts exactly,” he giggled along with you, your shoulders touching at this point as he glanced towards you again when your laughter died down.

“So…what now?”

Subconsciously his tongue darted out to slightly wet his lips and at this point Matt had already said too much to hide the blatant glance towards yours.

“I guess, you could make up for all those times you never kissed me,” you mumbled, your lips hovering over his before finally feeling the softness of mouth against yours, his hand finding its way to the side of your face as he kissed you so delicately you could barely even recognise him. Pulling away his eyes searched for yours, looking for permission to do it again, which you gladly gave.

The second kiss was much more passionate, eager in a way that made it really clear to the both of you just how long you had been waiting for this.

Your hands found their way into his hair and you thanked all your stars for this truly perfect-

“Gross,” the disgusted comment from your sister made the two of you jump apart, looking towards her in embarrassment.

“Once you two are done, can we go home?” She mumbled over her shoulder, walking towards the car. 

As much as you tried to hide your giddiness, the smile on your faces told your sister all she needed to know as the two of you followed after her.

“So, does that mean I get to hold your hand whenever I want to?” Matt mumbled, trying to hold back his smile.

“I guess it does.”

“Good, because I was honestly planning on biting my nails again just so you'd let me hold yours…speaking of, does that also mean I can bite your-”

“Don’t push it,” you mumbled back before slipping your hand into his.

“Fine, fine, I won��t.” 

He gave your hand a reassuring squeeze as he reached for the car keys with his other hand.

With a smile, you spoke.

“I’ll hold you to that.”

taglist

@stxrniqlo @jvdethirlwall @yoongoboongo @maddymaddie @blondiexx1 @insane-fangirl @gingerbreadgodofhyperdeath @becicamina @l0v3r0fr0ck @f3ssss @taking-a-footnote-in-your-life

ill write 1 last side part this weekend but the story is done :)

thank you all for the kind feedback i really hope you enjoyed this! know that the series im working on rn is the one that i've been planning for a while and is the reason i made this blog in the first place!

i promise i wont disappoint you! :)) and it will be so much cooler than anything ive ever written! :D also ill try to upload that new series every second day, so i hope to prewrite it over the next few days :))

i hope you enjoyed, luv u soooo much<3

#matt sturniolo fanfiction #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo x yn #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets fanfiction #sturniolo triplets x you #sturniolo triplets fanfic #sturniolo triplets x yn #sturniolo triplets x reader #sturniolo triplets #missingmark #missingmark writes

[greatunironic]

title: these traces of available light (3/3) summary: “So when Hop asks, when Murray asks, when Owens asks, when the doctors ask, when the specialist asks, he says: fall of ‘84, Billy Hargrove, in the Byers’ living room, with the dinner plate. He says: that’s when the static started in both ears, worse in the left than the right, but both weren’t great. He says: some mornings I woke up and it was like I heard everything like I was under water, but it would get better as the day wore on. He says: yeah, sometimes I got headaches too, and that made the static more. He says: after Starcourt, but just before, it did get worse, yeah. He says: I’d been practicing lip reading for a while, because I think some part of me always knew. He says: it was just gone, after that: no static, nothing blurry, just silence with the occasional whine when Hop got that whistle right.” Steve Harrington, and life after death.

EXCERPT It’s November, and it’s 1988. It’s been five years, damn near to the day, since the vanishing of Will Byers, and everyone’s probably had better days themselves in the aftermath, he thinks — knows, actually. They do good with anniversaries, mostly, but there’s something about this one that’s just the tiniest bit different for most of them. 

Will’s keeping close, though he makes a show of rolling his eyes when Joyce finds every excuse under the sun to wrap her arm around him when he gets within reaching distance, and Jonathan comes up for the weekend too, under the pretense of laundry, as usual, though of course they all see through him, curled on the floor of Will’s bedroom, never quite asleep. The kids radio a little bit more frequently through the day, just checking in, and Dustin turns up for dinner most nights, tucking himself close to Will and Steve in equal measure.

And not that he says anything himself but Steve’s own nightmares have been bad lately. Worse, even, than they’ve been before, and he’s not entirely certain it’s all to do with the anniversary, the memories that follow all of them right now. Something has come unlocked within him all on its own, he thinks. It had been a long time coming, he’s sure, his heart and soul and body on the approach of a certain precipice and now he’s finally tipping over the edge. So many things have been driving him towards it, but his mother, in Boston, is the latest of them, he knows.

#stranger things #fic #eating in the underworld #complete #steve harrington #jim hopper #robin buckley #genuinely a little emosh about this series being over #it's been such a fun world to play in

[celandeline]

Summer of Like // Farleigh Start x OC (21)

It’s exactly the same as any other day - we are lounging by the lake, Venetia and I on the little wooden dock, soaking up the suns rays, Felix and Oliver on the shore, dipping their toes in the water now and then. It’s exactly the same as any other day, except it’s not. There’s a strange cloud in the air, hanging over us, even though the sky is cloudless. The hole of Farleigh’s absence is tangible.

Venetia is fuming, not quite understandably. “I mean, it's outrageous!”

On the shore, Oliver picks at the grass by his feet. “What actually happened?”

Felix sighs, the same exasperation from earlier. “He sent an email to Sotheby's to say he'd ‘come by’ some Palissy plates. I mean, the idiot. He had to have known Dad went to school with the chairman.” 

An email. I roll my eyes behind my sunglasses, and lean back on my elbows. It’s wild to me how no one thinks it’s out of character at all for Farleigh to be so careless. 

Venetia chimes in. “I mean, talk about biting the hand. Mum and Dad would give him anything he asked for!”

I could never hate Venetia. Never. But the way she’s so easily berating her cousin over something that I know she doesn’t really care about, gets me close to it. I know for a fact that she couldn’t care less about the Palissy plates, I know she’s only mad for the theatrics of it, because pretending to be angry is better than being bored. But it makes me mad. 

Felix is more sympathetic. “Yeah, well, obviously he got sick of asking.”

“That's ridiculous. He's more spoiled than we are!” Venetia says. 

How is it that Farleigh has lived with these people, is related to these people, and they don’t seem to know him at all? In the time that I’ve known him - significantly less than Venetia or Felix - I feel like I learned more about him than either of his cousins seem to have in their whole lives. 

Felix tilts his head. “Come on, V. You have to admit. It's a little bit dark, you know, him having to go to mum and dad with the begging bowl.”

Venetia is unwavering. “Oh boo-fucking-hoo.”

I turn over, to sun my back and to tilt my face away from the conversation, lest Venetia see the anger on my face. 

Felix finally gives in. “Alright, yes, fine, it was incredibly fucking stupid -”

“Guys, guys guys.” Venetia hisses, her eyes on the shore as James and Elspeth as they breeze towards us. Felix dips his head down towards Oliver, quietly saying something to him. A wave of silence descends on the group of us - I’m a little grateful, the conversation was beginning to grate. 

James is as sunny as ever - if I hadn’t seen the ruckus this morning myself, I would have never guessed anything at all had happened. “What a glorious day! I've never known a summer as hot as this one.”

Elspeth drapes herself into a chair on the shore. “Sweltering!”

James titters on. “I think it's hotter than last year. I didn't think that was possible but here we are again! It's hotter than Barbados, apparently. Barbados!”

“I can believe it, darling.” Elspeth says. “I honestly don't think I've ever been hotter in my life.”

It’s like they’ve forgotten about him already. God it makes me mad - and its alienating at the same time. It might be an American thing, it might be an Italian thing, but I could never imagine disavowing one of my cousins from the house. Blood relation means nothing to these people. 

James tucks his hands in his pockets. “I need to check with Robert to make sure that he’s being extra vigilant with the hydrangeas.” 

“Very wise, my love.” Elspeth says. James wanders off, and she sighs, relaxing. “Bliss! Bliss, bliss…”

I shouldn’t be angry. It’s not my place - I’m a guest of Venetia’s, this is not my family, what they do and say to each other is really none of my business. 

Tuning into the little portable radio, Elspeth gasps. “Oh, this song. God, I haven't heard this song in forever! I used to hang out with them all, actually, when I was modeling. Britpop, Blur, Oasis. God the parties!” She sighs. “But then of course "Common People" came out and everybody thought it was written about me. Which was completely mortifying and ridiculous! I mean I barely knew Jarvis.”

Venetia sits up on her elbows. “What?”

“‘She came from Greece. She had a thirst for knowledge.’” Elspeth quotes. “It couldn’t have been me. I’ve never wanted to know anything.”

It’s like these people live on another fucking planet. And at first, it was a novelty, just another part of this vacation, but now it’s almost horrific. 

“God, I wish we didn’t have to go to London.” Elspeth sighs. 

“I didn’t know you were going to London.” Felix turns to look at his mother over his shoulder. 

“Pamela’s funeral.” She says, matter of factly, not a hint of sorrow in her tone. 

Oliver turns to Felix. “Pamela died?”

At least Felix has the decency to sound upset. “Yeah.”

“She’d do anything for attention.” Elspeth says. 

God I can’t wait for the summer to be over. To go back to reality, where people care about each other and work through their problems instead of tossing each other out like trash. I love Venetia - truly and wholly - but I know that she doesn’t feel the same. How could she, when her parents treat people like they’re disposable?

Like she knew I was thinking about her, she turns to me. “‘S a bit sad, don’t you think?”

“Yeah.” I say. 

< previous part | next part >

#farleigh start x oc #farleigh start x reader #saltburn #farleigh start #farleigh x reader #saltburn x reader

[helloliriels]

Sleepless (Part 5)

Read Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | AO3 Fic

Molly felt awful about mailing Sherlock's letter, two weeks later … 

.

The radio program came back on, playing bits of John and Rosie’s conversation, a constant reminder of her betrayal … 

… and Sherlock - too - had appeared in her lab to work out a few details on a pressing case in symphony with the radio timing …

Molly flushed with colour. Unable to turn around and or even to look at him.

.

“Something is bothering you,” Sherlock stated off-hand. As if he didn’t really care about the answer, but was, in fact, annoyed by it … 

.

Molly fussed with paperwork.

"Busy day," she managed, after a moment, then topped it off with a cheery, “what did you think of the program on New Years?” before she could stop herself …

Her voice didn’t even shake.

She was quite proud for this not small feat, but immediately wanted to run and hide … 

.

“Had its moments,” Sherlock acknowledged, reluctantly.

Maybe hiding wasn't necessary ... 

“… but I do wish the host would allow her guests to speak without limitations," he added, offhand.

.

She laughed off her nerves, “it is a radio program for entertainment, Sherlock-? She has to keep it on track?”

“Boring,” Sherlock responded, dully. 

.

He wasn’t looking at her. Wasn’t even looking up.

.

“Will you be writing to them, then?” She asked bravely, after several minutes of uninterrupted silence. Again, forcing the casual note to her voice, “to find out the answers you needed …?”

“What answers?” Sherlock cut her off, “I deduced everything within minutes of the show’s ending. Case. Closed.”

“So you weren’t interested in the Doctor? John?” she prodded, “not even a little? ‘Cause I thought-”

“Molly,” he eyed her suspiciously. Her heart stopped for a second. But then he went back to his research, “I hope I would have more sense than to act like a silly schoolgirl sending notes,” he spat the last word with extreme derision.

.

“... Besides,” he added -

.          A few moments after she had started breathing again -

“... the relationship would never have worked out.”

.

She froze.

.       “And why’s that?” she laughed ... trying not to look too anxious for his reply … 

.

.        Shit. Shit. SHIT!

.        ... Why did she send off that letter???

.

“I’m a detective ,” he barked, startling her,

.     “I chase criminals through the streets of London on a regular basis!

.           I get death threats and have been kidnapped on more than one occasion!

.                    And OH?! Have I mentioned my inability to make or keep friends …? 

.                           Hardly the type of person a Doctor and the Father of a Small Child is going to want as a roommate ... hmmm?"

.

Molly stepped back a pace.

.          “You've been kidnapped?” she asked, horrified ... 

.

He sighed. Rolling back around to face his work.

“Twice as an adult. Once as a child. Risks of the trade.”

.

Molly stood speechless.

He took another deep breath - a calming breath - she thought … and looked away. 

“Now if you would leave me be?” he asked politely, “I have work to finish, and a plane to catch.”

.

“Another? Where to this time?” she hoped her smile was reassuring, but doubted it.

“Amsterdam,” he replied, still not looking up.

“Vacation then?” she tried for a more cheery note, but was shot down.

“Hardly,” Sherlock huffed, and drew out his notepad.

.               The same notepad that he had used to write the letter …

And scribbled a few words before looking back up at her surprised expression.

He took her silence as want of more explanation, and filled her in, “I’m following a trail of bank exchanges that will hopefully lead me to a blackmailer and a potential human trafficker. Teens have been going missing. Will probably be gone a few weeks. Maybe a month. If the trail leads elsewhere … "

.

“Oh.”

. She stepped back a pace, collecting herself,

. “yeah, ‘course. Silly me!”

.

She made her way back to her workstation, and they finished their tasks in silence. Her stomach growing more and more knotted with every passing, guilty, minute … Wondering … should she say something? … Confess?

Half an agonising hour later, he was grabbing his coat,

.        and then he paused - to her surprise - in the doorway …

.

“Besides …,"

. he added, quietly, as if they were still carrying on their conversation from earlier,

.                    “... what would I have to offer him?”

.

.

A stunned and blinking Molly could only watch as he disappeared down the hall and out the double doors. His shoulders slumped. His long, billowing coat, the only thing alive about his demeanour ... 

Unable to answer ...

            All the reasons she had fallen for him, already.

.

... She no longer regretted sending the letter.

SLEEPLESS IN LONDON (continued below!)

Rosie was pulling John along at a quick clip, on their way home from school. “Hang on a mo’?” he laughed, trying to keep up without letting go … “what’s the big rush?” 

“The post, Daddy!” She tugged harder.

“The … post …?” He asked, perplexed. The light bulb dawned, just as she reached their door and was peering in through the letter slot. She slumped in disappointment and looked up at John with huge, almost tearful eyes … 

“No letters?” she whinged.

She was disappointed.

.

John picked her up and carried her, floppy bunny and all, into their tiled entryway, dropping the keys on the side table … “I’m sorry, kiddo? Were you expecting there to be some toda-?”

They heard a shuffle of feet on the front steps, and both turned around to see a postman standing there. Two large bundles in his hands! 

.

“Doctor … John Watson?” 

.

The man was reading off the top letter on the stack.

“That’s me!” John squeezed Rosie’s hand and let go to accept the large bundles of letters. Glancing down to catch the look of barely contained glee in his daughter’s eyes … 

“Thank you!” John nodded, and went to shut the door - but the postman was halting him?

.

“I got two more to deliver? Where ya want ‘em?”

.

“Two more bundles?” John asked, amazed!

“Oh no,” the man replied - John laughed with relief - then the man gestured, “I got two full delivery bags in the van.”

.

John blinked.

. Did he say … two full bags???

.

“You want ‘em in here?” The post man was already eyeing their narrow entryway.

.

“I … uh …,” John ran his fingers through his hair, still processing the shock of this revelation. Even little Rosie seemed overwhelmed by the news! “Yeah, Christ. Guess that … would be … fine-?” 

He met Rosie’s awed expression with a shy smile. She was really getting her hopes up … 

“Right you are!” the man was already off to collect the rest ... 

.

.          ... and all John could do was step back and marvel at the enormous pile it made when they were emptied at his feet.

@johnlocky @fluffbyday-smutbynight @chinike @rhasima @mydogwatson @kettykika78 @mxster-jocale @cupidford @meetinginsamarra @peageetibbs @calaisreno @7-percent @john-smiths-jawline @anyway-kindness @swissmissing @inevitably-johnlocked @totallysilvergirl @kittenmadnessandtea @topsyturvy-turtely @safedistancefrombeingsmart @colourfulwatson @holmesianlove @kabubsmagga @peanitbear @copperplatebeech @tiverrr @pocketwatchofmycroft @mutedsilence @2smach @loki-lock @daltongraham @amyreadsandstresses @raina-at @discordantwords @gregorovitchworld @bluebellofbakerstreet @sarahthecoat @reveling-in-mayhem @midgemao @ileenhaddockhawkins @storytellingdreamer @fuckcannibals @cortinita @marisaysthings @charlies-storybook @salmonsown @iamjustreading @myriath @tinchensblog @iwlyanmw

(let me know if you want tagged/removed anytime)

#sleepless in london #johnlock fan fic #johnlock #helloliriels #sleepless in seattle #au #i am johnlocked #halp! #fic updates!

[dekusleftsock]

THOUGHTS ON 376 TIME! WOOHOO!!

Three thoughts came into my mind on this page.

One, that “we still haven’t had our chat about romance” is a thought in ochako’s head, not just a distraction. (Very interesting..) But I may just be reading the bubbles incorrectly, as I’m aware that last chapter she said this to Ochako. Could it be Toga remembering it? Another possibility too.

Two, that Toga believes this is Ochako trying to TAKE BACK her rejection in some light. To my knowledge, (and if the translators didn’t mess anything up too badly, sorry y’all I’m aware it won’t be perfect no matter what) “taking a hint” is often used in English to describe someone not backing off romantically. The hint being, “I don’t have feelings for you”. (Edit: this post translated it in its most literal form, and it said “persistent” so, I still stand by what I said. It’s sounds like someone rejecting a romantic confession)

And number three, the most important. “Can’t take a hint” is the most tongue and cheek thing I’ve seen. IT SOUNDS LIKE IN MY VERY BIASED SHIPPER MIND THAT, THE AUDIENCE, AKA US, HAVENT GOTTEN THE HINT WITH THESE TWO.

I saw literal radio silence when chapter 375 came out. Now, I’m aware that togachako is a bit of a rare pair. Not only is it a sapphic ship, but it’s also with a more “problematic” dynamic, and with a character that was introduced later on into the series. Wayyyy after ochako was introduced as Izuku’s love interest.

Most bkdk shippers either outright ignore ochako, hate her, or ship her with Tsu. I only judge one option out of the three, as it’s usually born out of misogyny. (Purposefully or not, I’ve seen people love male characters with the same “annoying” traits ochako has. Tbh, most people hate her bc she’s a girl and she’s feminine. That’s it)

Anyway yeah, and the only people who really care about her character development are one: Ochako stans (love y’all <3) two: togachako shippers (me) and three: izu//ocha shippers. (Censored so that I don’t tread on their territory as I’m about to be a little…. Eh to them and their interpretations)

Now, izu//ocha shippers to me are pretty neutral. There’s the dudebros who I think everyone hates, and then there’s the normal batch of people. A mix of people who enjoy the series very casually, or people who just generally like them.

Because of this fact, however, they are, like me, also biased. Meaning if I presented my thoughts on togachako to an izu//ocha shipper, I will and have been called a little bit of a conspiracy theorist about it. That I’m in denial, yada yada. All that junk. And if I’m wrong? Then shit, guess it’s me getting kicked in my ass all over again for trusting a shonen writer. I have fandom to help me cope. I’ll live.

Now, because of this bias, it leaves the interpretations of chapters 289, 342, 348, and even 375 all deemed as “izu//ocha chapters”, because what else could it be leading up to other than that?

And that’s why I HOPE and I PRAY that Horikoshi pulls the rug out from under your feet. I hope and pray every day that’s what happens. If only to confirm in my mind that my eye for detail isn’t sketchy or rough around the edges. Or that my conclusions aren’t just delusions. I don’t like to be wrong, thank you very much.

The other thing I wanted to delve a little into. Toga’s mind is a labyrinth that I don’t think even us as the audience has quite cracked yet.

I like to think I understand people. Not in the casual social way, god no. Social cues are not my thing. But reading people? Getting to the bottom of their issues and wrenching them from their depths and into the open for someone to see? THATS what I’m good at. Understanding a person and how they work. Because, let me tell you, there is a reason for each and every thing a person does. Every little detail, from the way they stand to how they choose their words. How someone reacts defensively and offensively are the biggest giveaways to who a person actually is.

Toga Himiko’s walls are miles thick. They appear sheen, like she wears her emotions on her sleeve, but that’s just not TRUE. Before she broke, it was forced neutrality to the wrongdoings in her life. Possibly even any form of happiness wasn’t deemed respectable to wear. The mask was on at all times, no matter what, but now? Now it’s a smile. The mask is still there, it still exists. It’s just in a different form, something made to protect HER rather than EVERYONE else. It’s interesting.

Another notable thing about Toga, she’s cried once, in the entire manga. She has cried once.

And it wasn’t even for Twice’s death.

If toga were to cry at Twice’s death, if toga were to express any other vulnerability other than anger at his death, then she would be left with two things: the mask, shattered; the one that mattered. And two, she would have to accept that everyone was right about her. That she was a tragedy.

And not only was she a tragedy, but she had to accept that death affected her. That the love she “experienced” for people like Izuku or Sato, wasn’t love. Because she loved twice, yet never wanted to BECOME him.

And I can hear it now, “doesn’t she want to be ochako too?” No, actually. She wants to be like her.

And, if you ship bkdk, you probably follow some other analysis creators on here. People who have talked about Izuku wanting to become LIKE Katsuki, not become him.

And that begs the question, does ochako want to become deku? Or become like him?

I think it’s both.

The thing is, Ochako ofc can’t physically become him, but at every turn of trying to be like him, it hasn’t really let her evolve. It’s held her back, actually, like at the sports festival. Ntm, this requires some level of natural imitation, something Ochako clearly lacks in her relationship to Izuku.

But she does not lack with Toga.

Idk if I showed it here before, and if I didn’t, I apologize for not explaining completely at least. Essentially, Ochako naturally imitates how Toga looks in both her hairdo and some choice facial expressions. Toga naturally imitates through posing techniques mid air and behavior parallels. I don’t feel like grabbing the panels, sorry!!

But back to Himiko, I think that she desperately wants close connection, is extremely insecure about herself, and actively hides behind smiles. Not only that, but she’s been trying to imitate shigaraki this entire time by having his “I don’t care about love and I wanna destroy the world” attitude and disdain. Showing she’s trying to find the most powerful people in her mind right now to hide from herself, her own sadness. She wants to hide from her rejection, and views the rejection itself as her. She knows that people see something especially unnerving and wrong about her, yet doesn’t completely understand why. So this rejection sensitivity is not only heightened by her trauma, but also Twice’s death.

With him gone, she now becomes unnervingly aware that she does not like death the way she thought she did. She also can’t escape the reality that no one has ever truly cared about Toga Himiko as a person.

And in her mind, following Jin’s death, no one ever will.

One last note, these two panels felt like parallels to me. Might be a stretch.

#midoriya izuku #bkdk #mha deku #bkdk brainrot #bakudeku #bnha deku #bakugou katsuki #mha analysis #deku midoriya #mha bakugou #leftsock rambles #mha katsuki #togachako #toga himiko #togachako brainrot #uraraka ochako #toga x ochako #bnha #mha

[jake-whatthefisgoingon-kiszka]

Hi! 👋 did I mention there was going to be a part 4.2? No? Well here you go anyways have fun!

Pairings: Sam Kiszka X Danny Wagner *this is all the slash ok

Warnings and tags: 18+ ONLY!!! Very adult content, smut including m/m sex, oral, riding, pet names, unprotected sex, a little bit of anxiousness, some choking, attempt at humor, please let me know if I missed anything

Word count: 2.5k

“Why don’t you ever turn the radio on?” Danny questioned as they officially headed back towards the ranch.

“Because it’s an old piece of shit. Good luck trying to find a station to tune it to” Sam replied as Danny reached over and switched it on. Static came through first and Danny worked for a few minutes at slowly and as steadily as possible tweaking the tuning knob. Just as he was about to give up, the faint sound of lyrics and a male voice singing started to come through. He focused harder at twisting his fingers until ultimately he landed on a country station. It was still scratchy, but they could easily make out the song now as the familiar chorus filled the cabin.

I saddle up my horse and I ride into the city

I make a lot of noise ‘cause the girls they are so pretty

Sam looked over at Danny still wearing the black cowboy hat his gran had given him and his cheeks flared red as the song mercilessly continued with its fiddle and guitar company just as the chorus reached its peak.

And the girls say save a horse, ride a cowboy

Everybody says save a horse, ride a cowboy

Danny looked back over at Sam and desperately tried to stifle his laughter as Sam embarrassedly reached over and flicked the stereo back off. “That’s enough of that”.

“Hopefully Jake likes to have the stereo on when he drives. I don’t mind him not being the chatty type because I’m not either, but it’s going to be a long trip if we just ride in silence”. Danny hadn’t even realized he hadn’t told Sam yet that Josh had asked him to go out of town with Jake tomorrow. In fact he kind of just assumed Sam would have known somehow considering this is exactly what he was hired for, not just to keep Sam company, but instead he was shot a surprised look.

“Didn’t know you were leavin’ anywhere with Jake” Sam replied nonchalantly like it didn’t bother him one bit he was just hearing of this.

“Josh only asked me this morning” Danny tried to backtrack, a hidden apology in his tone. “I couldn’t just tell the boss’s boss no could I?”

A smile cracked through Sam’s stoic expression at Danny’s implication that Sam still was his boss before Josh was. It was a simple indication but it meant something to Sam because it related back to their time together. “Well how long you going to be gone?”

“Just overnight I think. Josh said something about getting a hotel room but I didn’t ask much questions”.

“I see, well ah that mean you comin over again tonight?” Sam didn’t divert his eyes from the road ahead of him. He hoped Danny knew what that offer meant, but I didn’t want to just assume anything either. “Cause who knows if Jake’s gotten the heater in the camper fixed yet”.

“Yeah, if you’re offering” Danny replied, also trying not to sound too excited about the idea of spending another night at Sam’s, whatever that meant.

Obviously that meant they’d end up together in Sam’s bed again. Already stripped down to just their underwear as thankfully Sam’s electricity was back on and keeping his house nice and warm. Not that they even needed the heater on because of how hot the room was already getting as they laid tangled up in each other's limbs on top of the sheets, the covers discarded to the floor.

“Aren’t you tired?” Danny chuckled as Sam sucked wet kisses against his neck anywhere his mouth could reach. After the day they’d had it felt good to have Danny right back where he wanted him. Practically naked in his bed again.

Sam shut off his mind the moment they laid down together, his only focus on feeling Danny once more. Connecting with him again the way they had before. His body buzzed with anticipation, already needing to get off with another orgasm as powerful as the one he’d had last night.

“No, are you?” Sam weaned off only a little bit to reply before continuing to nip and lick. Both on their sides, he had one arm folded against Danny’s chest, his palm glued to Danny’s jawline, while the other hand played in Danny’s hair, tugging slightly at the root.

“I was, but you’re trying really hard to get me fired up” Danny’s voice came out in another breathy laugh followed by a long content sigh as he grabbed Sam’s waist and pulled him closer.

Another brief pause, “well is it working?”

“Why don’t you see for yourself?” Danny gathered Sam's hand from his hair and slipped it between their bodies, guiding it down until Sam was gladly feeling him up. Danny was already straining against his boxers as Sam palmed him through the thin fabric.

The want in Sam only grew when he felt the proof of Danny’s attraction towards him. Sam knew he was attractive and it showed in the way he flaunted it when flirting with others, but with Danny it didn’t feel like he was only physically attracted to him. It felt deeper than that, and although that was slightly tantalizing, it was also rousing as Sam threw his knee up over Danny’s thigh and started to press their fronts together.

“We should rest” Danny tried to rationalize, though he wasn’t doing much to stop Sam. “Two long nights in a row can start taking a toll on one's body”.

“I can handle it” Sam encouraged him, migrating his kisses upwards until they were heatedly locking lips. “Besides, seeing you in that cowboy hat earlier has been doing things to me”.

“Is that so?” Danny smiled bashfully. If he’d known something as simple as that would give Sam this reaction then he would have gotten one sooner.

“I want to ride you” Sam blurt out, already moving to sit up.

“Woah, woah” Danny grabbed his arm and pulled him back down with him. “I meant what I said about taking it easy. You don’t have to do anything, I can do all the work for you. Promise I’ll make you feel good again if that’s what you need”.

“What do you take me for?” Sam scoffed, “just another pillow princess or something?”

“You said it not me” Danny grinned from ear to ear as he reached over to fix the pieces of Sam’s hair that had been tousled.

Though the offer did sound pretty appealing, the idea Sam had gotten in his head today wasn’t going to just go away. He wanted this and there was never much that could deter him from getting what he wanted. “Why don’t you get us started then I’ll take over?”

“I think I can work with that” Danny easily agreed and leaned down to kiss Sam again. Within minutes he was slipping his fingers underneath the waistband of Sam’s underwear and tugging them off. Once they were successfully discarded Danny returned his lips to Sam, only this time his kisses landed against his chest.

“You couldn’t go one night without getting me inside you again?” Danny questioned teasingly as he moved to one of Sam’s nipples, flicking his tongue over the tiny rosy bud.

“Shut up and get on with it already” Sam begged, spreading his legs wider to allow Danny between them.

“But you don’t want me to shut up, do you?” Danny continued taking his kisses even lower down Sam's sternum and across his stomach. “I can tell by the way you react here”. He wrapped his hand around Sam’s throbbing length and brought it to his mouth, licking the smallest bead of precum that was already leaking free. Sam groaned and bucked his hips, wanting more of this sensation.

Danny obliged, wrapping his lips around Sam and immediately taking him as far as he could. “Happy being a pillow princess now?” Danny beamed after coming up for air, spit starting to dribble out from how much his mouth watered for Sam.

Instead of trying to smart off back at him, Sam reached forward and threaded his fingers through Danny’s hair at the crown of his head and pushed him back down effectively silencing him.

With moans starting to fall freely from Sam, Danny popped off only to spit onto his fingers, easily finding his place while he continued to kiss and mouth at his length. He slipped a finger inside and without much work he was already ready for another.

“Okay that’s enough, my turn” Sam huffed, pushing Danny’s shoulders to get him off before he got too worked up.

Trading places Danny watched in amusement as Sam fished the bottle of lube out of his night stand. “Why are those still on? Off. Now”. Sam demanded, pointing down at Danny’s boxers.

He waited impatiently as Danny lifted his hips and hooked his thumbs into the waistband, sliding his last piece of clothing off and letting himself spring free and fall against his lower abdomen as Sam squeezed some lube into his palm. Sam cautiously wrapped his fingers around Danny’s length and gave him a few ginger strokes. He’d been so determined before, but now he was a little bit overwhelmed as he watched the way the pinkened tip on Danny disappeared into his grip and reappeared with each pass of his fist.

He’d never done this before. What if he was bad at it and he’d just talked so much game for nothing? Or what if it was uncomfortable or he hurt himself? Danny wasn’t exactly lacking in the package department- he’d learned that last night and was becoming even more acquainted with it now as he gripped his girth.

Danny noticed Sam’s newfound hesitance and took his hand in his own before moving to sit up against the headboard. “Come here” he requested softly, bringing Sam’s hand to rest on his shoulder as he wrapped the other around his waist. Part of Danny wanted to push him back down onto the mattress and show Sam once more how well he could take care of him, but the other part of him knew this is what Sam wanted. He was just getting in his head again.

Sam climbed into Danny’s lap and Danny held him there chest to chest as he gathered his hair to one side so he could kiss on the exposed skin. “Go as slow as you want. I’m not in any hurry”.

Taking a deep breath, Sam positioned himself, reaching behind to line Danny up as he sank back down on top of him.

“God, I’m gliding right in” Danny groaned and let his forehead rest on Sam’s shoulder now while Sam took him in inch by inch, “you must still be stretched from last night”.

Sam silently agreed as he bottomed out, feeling completely full and satisfied. Why he was ever nervous in the first place was lost to him as he began to lift his hips and slide back down until he’d found a good pace. It was Danny’s turn to nurture Sam’s neck as he felt Sam’s knees widen around him so he could get lower, take him deeper.

“That’s it, just like that” Danny whispered into his ear. “You’re doing so well princess”.

Shocked, Sam paused for a moment, leaning back to look Danny in the eyes as if to ask him what did you just call me? Danny opened his mouth to speak, trying to say that it had just slipped out in case Sam hadn’t liked it, but before he could say anything Sam was attacking him with his lips.

Sam had expected a repeat of last night, more prickling pain across his skin. Almost wanted Danny to strike him again and push him to his limit. Tonight however Danny was being so gentle with him, offering him praises that made Sam’s head swirl with more arousal.

“Did you like that?” Danny smiled, enjoying the way Sam’s cheeks colored so beautifully, “it suits you”.

“Keep talking” Sam pleaded, picking up his pace and furrowing his brows as his body exerted itself, but the building pleasure kept him going.

“See, I knew you liked it” Danny smirked, grabbing Sam’s hip to help guide him. “Do you feel good? Is riding me everything you thought it would be?”

“Feelsso good” Sam slurred his words as he reached around and grabbed Danny’s leg just above the knee so he could lean back and let his head fall, hair cascading down his back like a beautiful brown waterfall.

Danny groaned at the picture before him, Sam’s body on full display before him with tight muscles that strained and contracted underneath sweat glistening skin. He ran a hand up his torso and wrapped his fingers around Sam’s sinfully exposed neck, not squeezing just letting it rest there as he leaned forward and licked a bead of sweat off his chest.

“Choke me Danny” Sam whined as his hips started to stutter. The hand he wasn’t leaning on flew upwards and wrapped around Danny’s hand on his neck.

“Anything you want princess” Danny replied and tightened his grip. Sam let go, needing both his arms to keep himself steady now as he was barreling towards his impending release.

“So so good” Danny continued his praises. “Can you cum like this? I want you to make a mess on me”.

“Yes! I can, I am!” Sam cried out just as hot milky ropes of his release started to paint Danny’s abdomen. Danny held Sam by his neck as his body shook with his orgasm, trying to keep himself contained as Sam clenched and unclenched around him.

“Sam” Danny spoke through gritted teeth, just waiting for Sam to come down from his high. “Sam, I need to know where you want mine”.

“Hmm?” Sam hummed once he’d regained his bearings, seeing the look of slight pain on Danny’s face.

“You didn’t put a condom on, I’m trying really hard not to bust inside you right now”.

Sam was impressed, he hadn’t even realized he’d misstepped but Danny had and he was considerate enough to ask first. Despite feeling spent and weak Sam started to grind his hips again, pulling a wrecked moan from Danny. “Go ahead, I want you to make a mess in me Daniel”.

Danny cupped Sam’s face with both hands, pulling him even closer. “Kiss me Sam” he asked just before closing the last gap between them anyways, groaning into Sam’s mouth as he couldn’t hold it any longer.

“I’m gonna miss you” Sam sighed as he felt Danny softening within him, allowing room for his release to start dripping out.

“Miss me or miss this?” Danny breathlessly chuckled, not even attempting to move Sam off him despite the mess they’d both asked for.

“Both” Sam shamelessly admit, “though you might be right. I may need a recovery period after this time”.

#Greta van smut #Greta van fic #Greta van fleet #Danny Wagner #Sam Kiszka #sanny gvf

[missnind]

No Plans and None Can Be Broken

Eddie opened the door of the car with an easy grin.

"What's up, Harrington?"

Steve shot a dazzling smile back.

"Hey, Eds." He said, sweetly. "Ready for the movie?"

"Yeah, sounded cool. You know me... easy." He replied with a grin.

"I wouldn't say that, Munson. You haven't had a single date the whole time we've been hanging out." Steve jibed.

Eddie cleared his throat and fidgeted as he put his seatbelt on.

"Man, I-"

"I was teasing, dude! No need to sweat it." Steve replied as he moved to switch the radio on. "Ready?"

"Yeah, let's go."

The car cruised down the road, Steve nodding his head to the song on the radio. The silence was easy between them and Eddie relaxed. He loved spending time with Steve. Even if Steve didn't feel the same as he did.

Eddie glanced over and took in the sight next to him - full, thick hair, gorgeous eyes, full pouty lips, golden skin - fuck, it was no surprise people fell at his feet.

Steve had been a bitch in school. Now he was Eddie's best friend - something no one saw coming. Eddie had held an unrequited flame for him since 9th grade. Since he realised he really just wasn't interested in girls. Watching Steve in those little Hawkins Tigers shorts doing basketball and the various other jock stuff he was so good at... Well, that did it for him.

"Eddie? You OK, man?"

Eddie shook his head to clear the thoughts and realised he was staring.

"Sorry, dude. You know me - always in a world of my own." He laughed nervously.

Steve reached to place a hand on his knee.

"You sure you're OK, man?"

Eddie felt fire where the hand was. Straight to his groin. This car ride needed to go quicker.

"Yeah. Think a nice smoke before the movie will sort me right me out." He grinned.

Steve sighed and smiled.

"If you say so, man. Those things will kill you. Just saying."

Eddie laughed out loud.

"Yeah, be a shame to die from those after all we've survived, hey."

"What can I say, Munson? That noise you call music saved us all. Well, almost not you but like fuck were we gonna leave you there."

Steve's hand squeezed Eddie's knee and Eddie squeezed it back.

"You wouldn't know good music, Harrington." He shot back with a laugh.

"That, my friend, is where you are wrong! This-" He turned up the radio. "-is good music! You heard this one yet?"

Eddie's ears perked up as the music began and his heart began to hammer against his chest.

Steve was tapping his fingers along to the beat on the steering wheel. He was singing along to the song and Eddie just stared at him. Speechless.

"These lyrics, man! Who even comes up with this stuff?" Steve said as the song ends.

Eddie thinks for a beat and replies.

"Do you not like them?"

"Not like them? Munson, they literally resonate to me deeply! Like, OK so ... one sec, let me compile my thoughts into proper words."

Eddie's heart felt like it was going to force its way out of his chest.

"Ok, so, take this bit - 'Do you laugh about me whenever I leave? Or do I just need more therapy?' Like, I often feel that people are judging me still. You know, King Steve and all that. But is that like paranoia? I know you and the kids and Robs... you are my family. But the thought that you guys are just... The song's title is 'Fake Out'. Maybe that's it. There's a part of me that thinks you all just fake it." Steve took a breath and ran a hand through his hair.

Eddie opened his mouth to speak and nothing came out.

"Anyway, another one, yeah? So, there's this bit that goes 'My mood board is just pictures of you but I'm not sad anymore'. Like... I think it's about some unrequited love or something."

"Steve, I... It is, by the way. It is about unrequited love."

"Ha! I knew you didn't mind this type of music really!" Steve laughed as he reached out to poke at Eddie. "Or is this your opinion as a songwriter?"

"I haven't written in a while, Stevie. My muse must have left me. But I did send a load off and got paid for it. They showcase some to bands/artists. So if you're lucky, someone uses your lyrics for their song. It was a mad moment and Gar said it may be an idea since I had so many."

"Eds!" Steve pulled up the car into the parking lot of the theatre. He turned to face Eddie. "Why didn't you tell me, dude? That's pretty cool."

"I guess I just... it's not likely to be your song picked out of so many. So I just didn't think to." Eddie shrugged.

"Eddie, we would have been proud of you for trying. So, if your lyrics are picked do you get like a credit or something?" Steve asked with interest.

"Yeah. They will credit you for writing. And then you get a percentage of the royalties of the song."

"Well, I think you are gonna hear good things soon, Munson! Positive vibes." Steve smiled and leant towards Eddie for a hug.

Eddie's mouth was so dry. He did the only thing he could think of.

Singing quietly, he sang "We did it for futures that never came. And for pasts that we're never gonna change. Love is in the air. I just gotta figure out a window to break out. Buried alive inside my dreams. But it was all a fake out."

Steve looked at him curiously.

"That... it's my favourite part." Eddie explained. "It's about how we never really escape our pasts and a future that isn't... it can't happen. Won't happen. And no matter how much I want it, it won't be real."

Confusion flickered across Steve's face.

"Hey, Eddie, we aren't our pasts anymore. You know that, right? I mean, look at us! You're my best friend. Who would have thought it back then?"

The words stabbed through Eddie's heart. Worse than any demobat bite.

"Yeah." He managed a weak smile. "Friends."

"Eddie, come on. Talk to me, man. What is going on?" Steve seemed genuinely concerned.

"I just... OK, don't judge me. That song? It's mine. I wrote it."

Steve's face lit up with excitement.

"Man, that's awesome! That was you? Damn, you made me feel some kinda way! Maybe this is the road to the big time for our Eddie Munson from Hawkins! The kids are gonna-"

"Please, don't." Eddie began. "Don't tell them. I... I have something else to say."

Steve settled back against the car door.

"Eds, man, you're scaring me here." He said with a cautious smile.

Eddie looked down at his hands as he played with his rings nervously.

"I don't want to be friends." He blurted out.

Steve looked like he had slapped him.

" You don't wanna... did I do something?" He said, the hurt clear.

"That didn't come out right!" Eddie panicked and grabbed for Steve's hands.

Steve recoiled and Eddie looked like he was going to cry.

"Stevie, I-"

"Nah, it's cool, man. Don't sweat it. I'll just-"

Steve opened the car door and got out. He ran his hands through his hair, breathing quickly and trying to calm himself.

Eddie pulled open his door and ran around the car. He grabbed Steve and pulled him around the side of the building into an alley, away from prying eyes.

"Hey, dude, not cool!" Steve riled as he backed away from Eddie.

"Steve, you're not- ok! OK, I like you. I don't want to be friends because I want to be more." He trailed off as he pulled at the hem of his tee and looked at the floor.

There was silence and Eddie couldn't take it.

"'M sorry. I'll get Gar to come get me." He said quietly as he turned to leave.

"Eddie." Steve said quietly and calmly.

"It's ok, Stevie. Thank you. For everything." Eddie rambled as he walked quickly towards the open lot.

Hands spun him around and lips found his own. Pushing. Desperate. A tongue felt its way between his lips and he opened up, allowing it to explore his mouth.

Eddie backed up and the look on his face made Steve laugh.

"Eddie, you're an idiot." Steve laughed.

"I'm sorry? You-" Eddie began in an incredulous tone.

Steve looked at Eddie with hooded eyes and puffy lips.

"Eds, you took your sweet time. I've wanted you for longer than I care to admit. You just didn't seem-"

"You wanted me?" Eddie looked like he was about to hyperventilate.

"Yes, dingus. Didn't you- All those times we spent the night out in your van talking. Sitting up when the kids had gone to bed and just shooting the shit. All the times I tried to get you to open up about your love life... you really didn't...?"

"I... you want me?" Is all Eddie can push out.

Steve walked towards him and backed him against the wall of the alley. He put his arms up against the wall, blocking Eddie in. He leaned forward towards his ear and pressed a gentle kiss beneath it. He felt Eddie shudder.

"Yes. I kinda want you, right now." He said as he grabbed Eddie's hand and pushed it to the growing hardness in his tight jeans.

Eddie moaned and smiled like the cat who got the cream.

"I can help you with that, Stevie baby. If you want me to." He gave a positively filthy look as he dropped to his knees and Steve was glad he was holding himself up because the sight made his knees weak.

"Fuck, Eds. Here?" He looked around cautiously but it was empty except for them.

Eddie looked up at him with his doe like eyes and grinned devilishly.

"Here."

He began undoing the button on Steve's jeans and slid the zip down slowly as he pressed his face to the emerging bulge.

Steve hissed and gently pushed forward chasing the pressure.

Eddie mouthed over Steve’s clothed length and moaned softly.

"Oh, baby, I'm gonna enjoy this." Eddie said as he pulled out Steve's length. "Fuck, you're so big."

Steve looked down at him, a dopey look across his face.

Eddie started giving the tip kitten licks and Steve moaned softly. Pre-cum oozed out and Eddie lapped it up.

"Mmmm, you taste so good, Stevie." Eddie moaned before he popped the head between his lips.

Eddie sucked and licked at Steve, hollowing his cheeks. He loved the sounds Steve was making and he decided he could die happy if this was how he went.

Steve tried so hard not to thrust into Eddie’s hot mouth.

“Fuck, you’re so good at this.” Steve gasped as he looked down. “So fucking hot with my cock in your mouth. Fuck.”

Eddie just looked up through his lashes and hummed, causing Steve to moan again.

"Eddie, Eds," Steve's breath hitched. "Close."

Eddie looked up at him and took him deeper. A strangled sound left Steve's mouth as he spurted into Eddie's mouth. Ropes of hot cum covered the inside of his cheeks and his tongue.

Eddie swallowed down Steve's load and got himself to his feet.

Steve grabbed him into an embrace, bringing their foreheads together.

"That was..."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm amazing, I know." Eddie laughed teasingly, voice slightly hoarse.

Steve smiled widely and laughed.

"Where does this leave us?" Steve asked softly.

"Um, the alley behind the theatre, Stevie boy." Came the sarcastic answer.

Steve bounced his head gently against Eddie's.

"Was that song really about me?" He asked curiously.

"Mayyyyybe." Came the reply. "Why? You into that?"

"Eds, I just kissed you in an alley and you sucked my dick. I'd say I was so into that." Steve replied.

"Still wanna watch that movie or wanna come back to my place? Wayne's at work. Maybe we could figure out what this is?" Eddie said, holding his breath for the answer.

"Sure. Sounds good. I mean, I think this is the start of something wonderful." Steve said as he began to walk to the lot, pulling Eddie behind him.

"Sure it's not a fake out?" Eddie replied with a grin.

"Imma show you it's not, Munson. Every day if I have to." Steve replicated his grin.

Eddie rolled his eyes.

"I suppose that would be acceptable, Harrington."

"The kids are gonna be pumped." Steve said with an air of confidence.

"I'm sorry, what?" Eddie paused by the car.

"The kids. They've been taking bets on how long til we finally got it together." Steve said matter of factly.

"Wait... the kids? Our kids?"

"Yes, dude. Our kids."

"They know I'm-" Eddie stumbled to say it aloud.

"Gay? Yeah. And that I'm bi." Steve raised a brow. "Just seemed you were the only one who didn't."

"Man, I... Fuck. No, I didn't. I just don't assume."

"If you had, this could have happened quicker." Steve teased as he pulled Eddie towards him and kissed him softly on the lips.

"Let's go home, Stevie." Eddie said.

They got back into the car and they held hands all the way home.

#Steddie #smut #fanfic #lyrics #sweetboys #steve harrington #eddie munson

[bee-c-e]

(Re)Vengance

CW: non-detailed violence, potentially OOC

Notes: this is literally my first time writing Hazbin characters, so while i did my best to make them accurate, they’re probably bit out of character. sorry!

♥️•♣️•♦️•♠️• • •🦌•🥩•🎙️•🫀

The Radio Demon lied on the dusty ground, panting heavily, desperately grasping for some sense of being able to breathe. Never would he have thought he’d find himself at the sharp end of this sword, so to speak.

“Husker- my good friend- surely you must understand the… consequences- of your actions?”

“I understand perfectly. Do you?” Husk’s voice was lower than the overlord demon could say he had ever heard it before. His previous pet was barely speaking above a whisper, though the sound resonated in Alastor’s ears. His smile strained.

After several moments of silence, Charlie spoke up, sounding shaky, “Husk… you really shouldn’t do this. I mean- he’s done so much for all of us-“

“What has he done for me except take me prisoner for years?” He was strangely calm, seemingly apathetic about the situation he was in. His speech wasn’t crazed, nor manic. It was almost professional. The Princess of Hell stood behind him, making him look over his shoulder from where he had the Radio Demon pinned by the neck.

Uncomfortable silence echoed in his ears, and he relished in it. “Let’s face it, Charlie, the only person this fucker has helped is you.”

Charlie flinched, averting her gaze to the ground.

“I beg to differ, dear Husker. I’ve helped all of you in several ways. How else would you have fended off the angelic army if not for my knowledge of their weakness?”

Husk looked back at Alastor, “Yeah? Well, here we are. Who’s on whose leash now?” He watched in pure satisfaction as Alastor’s ears went back and the demon was able to do nothing about the rage he so clearly wanted to express. He could never again yank on Husk’s chain until he choked- threaten to tear his soul apart atom by atom. Even more, every year spent under that piece of shit had been beaten back into the demon, save for one. And how satisfying was that, to refer to him as a demon? Not an overlord, not his master- a demon. Like the rest of them (well, most of them. Husk still wasn’t sure what the fuck Niffty was). The reversal of roles was such poetic irony that Husk could wax its stanza for years on end without tiring.

“Angel spared Valentino, despite how much of a piece of shit that fucker is. Who’s to say I won’t do the same?” Husk spoke over his shoulder again to Charlie, and noticed that her expression was the epitome of internal conflict. She didn’t know until today the shit that Alastor had put him through. Didn’t know until today the extent of what Alastor had done to all of the souls under him. But freedom had finally come, and what a magnificent reward it was, to feel the weight of chains lifting from every limb. To hold the vital point of his tormentor in his own hand. Something so crucial, and yet so easy to crush.

Speak of the sinner, Angel watched only a slight distance from Charlie, looking stuck between concern and contentedness. He, more than anyone else here, knew the liberation that came not only with regaining your soul, but with forcing the one who held it for so long to quiver at your feet in fear the same way they forced you to so many times.

“That’s great, Husk! I knew-“

“Didn’t say I would.”

Alastor shuffled in his grip, his ears still back and his eyes narrowed, “Husker-“

Husk chuckled humorlessly, “You’d think you’d know when to shut your fucking mouth.”

Alastor, shockingly, stilled, though his smile grew sharper.

Charlie bit her lip. Took a deep breath, “As Princess of Hell, I demand that you release Alastor without killing him.”

Her voice didn’t quaver as much as it used to; in fact, it hardly did at all. Husk would’ve been lying if he’d said he wasn’t a little bit proud. Sucked that he was on the tail end of it this time.

Husk raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth to speak, but Angel beat him to it. “Really? Afta’ everythin’ he’s done?”

Charlie sighed, though it almost sounded like a choked-back sob. “Everyone deserves a second chance.”

Angel remained silent after that, his eyebrows furrowed as he stared at Charlie.

“Well Princess, hate to break it to ya’,” Husk flared his wings, “but this one’s been given too many.”

With that, Husker summoned a card- the Joker- and slashed across the space of Alastor’s neck while still looking at the Princess of Hell. What would be sickening thud rang in his ears, though Husk could only find it in himself to smirk. Another thud followed it, though he felt the body hit the ground more than he heard it.

The Radio Demon was dead.

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