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halcyone-of-the-sea · 8 months

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To Be Alive In Summer

PAIRING: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

SYNOPSIS: Betrayal had never been in your cards, and you definitely didn't see yourself being the one responsible for the act. When having to go undercover, first comes the problem of staging your death.

WORDCOUNT: 8.3k

WARNINGS: Angst, betrayal, intense gore, violence, death, allusions to intimacy, weapons, vulgar language, recovery, torture, happy ending, etc.

A/N: The final request is finished, hope you enjoy it @l-inkage! Onto the AUs next.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You didn’t want to do it, but in this job, comfort was always an option and never a guarantee. It needed to be done. And that meant sacrifices had to be made to the dark altar of your contract with One-Four-One.

But this one just might break you in the process.

“Are you sure that,” you pause and think over the instructions that Price had just given you—straight from the top of the line. “Are you sure that this is the best way, Sir?”

The man’s lips are flat, eyes narrowed, he doesn’t like this either—especially if you don’t. John’s a Captain, he tallies out orders and expects people to listen without hesitation; doesn’t express his worry about their safety because that isn’t what this is about at the end of the day. It’s about keeping the good people outside of bases like these alive and breathing.

And right now that hinged on you being dead.

“Berto needs mercenaries,” Price grunts, “and any record of you needs to be wiped before we send you in.”

Vito Berto—head of a crime family that had been picking up traction in recent years, so much so that One-Four-One had to be put on it for covert reconnaissance before any more people ended up dead.

You would be sent in under the cover of an experienced mercenary; one among the ranks that Berto would need for a hostile takeover planned in three months on the Palace of Westminster in London. The House of Parliament.

Vito was one cocky son of a bitch if he expected no one to get word of this.

Your job was to uncover the exact date, time, and the mission plan before getting out as quickly as possible. In order to do that, the soldier holding your name needed to be dead so nothing could be traced back to you, your task force, or your loved ones.

And people needed to believe it.

“Can’t the records just be forged, Sir?” You ask, the meeting room dark and pulsing with the cold air from the vents. “What about Gaz and Soap?” Your throat closes for a moment and you speak slightly lower. “Simon?”

Price sighs and crosses his arms, fixing the stance of his feet.

“They’ll deal with it.” Inside of your pockets, your hands twitch.

He won't. Not inwardly.

“I…” your jaw clenched.

Your relationship with Ghost was…strange. You’d both had your fun, of course, and you had a casual air about that sort of thing—it had happened, but nothing more could ever come of it. There was a modicum of soft care with you two; an acknowledgment of partnership in the field and out of it.

You didn’t have to explain to people that Ghost was closer to you than others. You’d seen his face; that says enough.

“It needs to look real,” Price explains, tilting his head down to you. “Not only for Laswell's state of mind but yours. I won’t be putting you in without giving you the best chance.”

“You can’t tell them?”

“Negative. Security measure.” You frown, biting at your lip.

John closes his eyes and shakes his head. A second later a hand is set on your shoulder and the man leans in slightly to reassure you like a relative. You look up into your Captain’s gruff face, seeing the small amount of care he levels into his cerulean irises for you.

He squeezes your flesh, watching hard.

“We need you for this, Trick.” The nickname was exactly why you were the only one who could do this.

You were the first choice. No one was better at undercover work.

“How long would I be gone, Price?” Shifting out of the hold, you cross your arms and level him with a dead stare. “How long do they have to live with this lie?”

John grunts. “Less than three months, yeah? But all of it’s up to how long it takes to gather intel. Full black.”

“Exfil point?”

“Town five miles from Berto’s estate. Cafe with a red door near the bookstore. Woman inside’ll be your handler.” You turn away to glare at the far wall, hesitant even when you know you shouldn't be. This was your job.

Brown eyes keep flashing behind your eyes—a skeletal mask that stares with stained glistening blood, blood you yourself feel reflected on your own visage. A shared damning of two people who would never see those great halls of the afterlife. Neither of you are good.

Simon had to understand.

The Captain sees the shift in your expression.

“You in?” He asks you with a blank look.

You take a deep breath, chest heavy and heart hurting. “I don’t like it,” your voice is low, monotone. “But, yeah, Sir, I’m in.”

“Good,” the man nods, hooking his thumbs into his belt. “It’ll happen in three days. Be ready.”

You watch him walk out of the room, patting you on the shoulder one last time before the door shuts behind him with a click of finality that pierces your lungs. You clear your throat and swallow down saliva, turning your face away as if ashamed.

It’s the quiet that gets to you in that moment—the encompassing nothingness. So often you would have moments like these with Simon. Just sitting; not taking. But this silence was so different.

This was betrayal.

After you steady the slight tremor in your hands, you scoff and shake your head backing up a step before leaving the room; turning off the lights.

You walk down the long hallway, feet heavy as your mind runs, and overhead the lights buzz like flies. Eyes stuck to the floor, your shoulders are hunched in with thought and your lids half-closed in a display of obvious inner turmoil.

The shadow that waits for you, leaning against the wall, you walk past entirely—missing it and not hearing the confused call of your name behind you because of it.

“Trick!” Your hand comes up to itch at your chin, fingers pushing into your flesh. The aggressive Manchester accent slides off of you until large fingers curl into the back collar of your vest rig.

You breathe in sharply, blinking in surprise as your feet get pulled back a step or two, pace halting as Ghost curls around your body, staring down at you. His brows are narrowed, that mask still on and the bottom fabric twisted in the obvious downward press of his lips.

“Bloody hell is wrong with you, then?”

Sighing, you scowl and shake him off of you, moving back to allow yourself some air. Did he really have to show up now? Why was he even here, you had to ask yourself. Was he…waiting for you?

“Nothing,” you don’t look at him, speaking low. “Distracted, is all.”

Ghost crosses his arms slowly, his brows flinching briefly as he makes a sound in the back of his throat. “Meeting go well?”

“Fine.” He can tell something’s wrong; you know he can—he’s the best at interrogations for a reason. Ghost knows when someone is lying to him.

You glance at his chest before you begin to open your mouth.

What could telling him hurt? Just a hint. He’d get it—I know he would. Berto had the nickname ‘The Tanner,’ given to him by his men. When he found out anyone had double-crossed him, he’d take a large breaking knife and separate the thin layers of skin from his victims. Intel suggests he keeps them awake for all of it, stopping when they pass out only to start again when they wake back up.

If there was any leak in this base…any at all…you wouldn’t be coming back.

You wouldn’t be coming back to him.

Simon’s thighs shift.

“Talk to me.” He always speaks like he doesn’t care about the answer, but you’d be a fool this far into your… relationship? To believe that he didn’t. You’d seen Simon panic over your injured body before—it told you enough.

The easy moments and the side-eyed looks when he thought you didn’t notice or weren’t doing the same to him.

Your fingers twitch, forcing a smirk that didn’t convince even you. Your heart was telling you to explain it to him, but your brain was firmly set behind iron doors; tongue held back by iron tongs.

“Personal matters, Simon. Nothing you need to worry about, Big Guy.” He doesn’t look away from your eyes. Brows set in a line and that mask jeering at you; almost mocking.

The Lieutenant doesn’t answer and your heart is visible from under your gear.

“J-just,” you stutter, face getting hot as you look away. “It’s not that I don’t want to tell you, it’s…”

Trailing off, you rub at the back of your head in a self-soothing motion.

Simon blinks slowly and you hear a large chest-rattling sigh. He shrugs in that way only he can—a fast jerk of shoulders that looks more like he’s trying to push off a bug than simply trying to move past what you’re saying to him.

“Doesn’t make a difference,” it does. “Garrick and MacTavish are waitin’ down at the firing range. Best get down there ‘fore one comes looking like a kicked dog.” You can still feel him digging into you. Knives and the suspicion in his tone.

You don’t want to do this to him. Not after all that you’ve gone through together.

“Right.” Your feet are moving before he is, planted into the floor and pushing off through the small pinches of electricity in the nerves. Pushing out a hard laugh, you try to send him a light smile. “Did you tell them to be ready to get their arses beat?”

Simon looks down at you as he walks beside your form in large steps; arms swinging. “Haven’t seen ‘em yet. Waiting for you.”

If it were possible to shrivel up from guilt, you’d be nothing but bones.

“O-oh,” you huff, but it sounds like all of the air has been expelled from your lungs. “You didn’t have to do that, y’know.”

Simon grunts, accent grating as he stares ahead. “Wanted to.”

“Good. That’s nice.” You feel like screaming. “Thank you.”

It’s nearly instantaneous how fast his eyes go dark with concern. “You sure that head of yours is on straight, Trick?”

You push open the doors outside and wonder if you even have the ability to answer him; out of everyone, you can’t lie to Simon.

“No,” your lips admit quietly, self-degrading in its own right.

A hand grabs you by the wrist and before you can slip out, you’re being pulled back into the building and pushed into a side room.

“Hey!” You shout, eyes flashing as the door is shut behind you. You’re released and the light is immediately turned on. “Simon, what the hell are you doing?”

“Enough,” he levels, and your arms are clasped so you’re facing his chest, looking up into his serious and hard gaze. “Fuckin’ speak to me.”

You’re surprised at how insistent he is about this.

“I’m not telling you anything,” you speak through stutters and he growls in his throat. His hands are like motel lava even under his gloves and above your skin—burning like a brand.

“What happened in that meeting room, Trick?”

“It’s classified,” you say, harder than intended, spitting the words with a hint of desperation. If not for your own safety, then for his, but you know that if he keeps asking then you’ll tell him the truth.

They were going to stage your death, and they won’t be making it pretty.

“Fuck classified,” he leans in closer, curling over you. “You’re acting like someone’s bloody taking you hostage.”

“Simon! It’s not—”

“Cut the bullshit!” You growl and try to shove away from him, struggling with glaring eyes that go sharp with the onset of tears. “Somethings got you worried and I wanna know what it is.”

Simon wasn’t the greatest at articulation, but neither were you.

You knew he was trying to tell you he was concerned. The man was holding you tight, but not hurting you; his face close and his shoulders wide. Along your face his eyes were darting, as if he could peel back your skin and make you explain what Price had told you.

The Captain had given the Lieutenant a look as he’d seen him waiting for you but had said nothing. That alone had tipped Ghost off to something being wrong.

But you weren’t having it.

Yanking out of Simon’s hands, you shake your head and put on your worst glare—meeting muddy brown and huffing.

“Mind your own business, Riley. It’s for your own good.” The man blinks in mute shock, fingers in the air twitching before they fall to his sides.

You speed-walk out of the room before he can speak, lips slightly parted at your strange behavior.

For his own good? What in the hell did that mean?

Simon’s jaw clenches, a grunt in his chest as he aggressively rolls his wrist. He turns to follow after. The both of you don’t talk for the rest of the day.

—

Your body shakes along with the helo as it takes off, carrying you away from the scene of gunfire down below. In your earpiece, you hear the loud calls and yelling from your friends. Gaz is calling out to Price to give him permission to move up; the Captain too busy grappling Soap to the ground.

Ghost is taking cover behind a wall, but he’s not quiet.

“Trick’s in the damn building!”

No, I’m not, you want to flick on the line and tell him. Over the three days before this operation you'd barely spoken—in fact, you’d been avoiding all of them fervently by the mass amount of guilt in your stomach.

In the nights, you hadn’t even slept, and now you’re sure it’ll take even longer too.

Their forms become tinier, and you grasp the roof’s handle as the helo rises farther and farther.

“Price!” Simon barks. “We have to get her—”

“There’s no time!” John responds, grunting and forcing Johnny down as he spits curses and tries to call your name over the comms. You flinch violently, looking away for a moment. “We’re surrounded!”

“I can get through!” Bullets wiz through the comms, and you can nearly imagine you are down there—trapped in the house down the way after being shot and injured by hosties. But you’d never been in that house. Never been alone down the way for recon.

You’d been at the second exfil point. Price knew it. Laswell knew it.

But Simon had not.

“Negative, Ghost! Keep where you are, we can get to her later. We need to—” The building you were supposed to be in explodes in a fiery wreck; a great bloom cloud going into the air as the helo shakes from the after-blast.

You have to turn your face away, shielding your eyes. The pilot calls to see if you’re alright, but you don’t answer. All you can hear is the screams.

“Trick!”

“Simon, get back into bloody cover!”

“Fucking Hell! Trick, answer me!” It gets too much—the bareness of his panic for you. The panting breath; the running stomp of feet.

You rip the connection from the radio on your vest and place a hand over your mouth, breathing as if you had really been in an inferno like a piece of fodder.

Simon had already been through so much in his life, and doing this to him as well as the task force was the definition of betrayal of the loyalty you’d cultivated.

Of the love.

Because you did love him—even if you’d never say it to each other. If he found out about what you did, which he would eventually, in one way or another, he’d hate you for the rest of his life. So perhaps you were mourning, as you stare below as the helicopter takes you higher and higher up. Farther away from him. You were mourning what you had, because you knew it would never be the same.

Simon Riley would never trust you again, and all you had to blame was yourself.

The tiny tears dribble out of you and fall all the way down to the ground, where the man still screams for you to answer him; John barks orders with a sheen of panic in his eyes from the bare-bones ferality of the Lieutenant. Brown eyes blazed and cities burned in his pupils.

John had underestimated the bond that the two of you shared.

And he just might pay the price for it.

—

Getting through selection was far easier than getting through SAS training, Vito Berto seemed to only want mercenaries that had the faintest hint of the ability to hold a smuggled weapon. It made sense because if the people he was planning to send in were well-trained, it would be easier to trace to him—ability equaled a higher level of intelligence. Planning. Resources.

To fit in, you made sure to miss a few of your shots, even if it made your instinctual perfectionism rise. John would have torn you a new one if you’d missed this many during your selection all those years back. Probably would have asked how a Muppet like you had gotten this far with shite aim like that.

But Berto ate it up like Sunday dinner. Gave you the nickname Cross, actually. Like the crosshair of a scope.

It was safe to say you despised him.

But the days grew longer and the nights short with all of your running around. You’d found out that your Captain’s timeline was incorrect—the attack wasn’t in three months, it was in two. And while Berto was cocky, he wasn’t reckless.

He somehow knew there was a breach in the ranks; you could see it by how he looked over the squads in the underground bunker, all of you hidden under rock and stone like prisoners. The man would sneer, eyes filtering back and forth from the perch.

Sometimes you had to stop yourself from simply taking the shot presented in front of you and deal with the consequences afterward.

Price had been clear: all of the people gathered here needed to be taken care of quickly and quietly—if you snapped, the rest would disappear like roaches. Alive and biding time.

During those two months, the thoughts of Simon wouldn’t leave you.

Moments that seeped in behind closed eyelids after you’d slunk back into bed, the USBs full of vital intel stashed into the lining of your uniform in a small hidden pocket. His twitching smile and those deep scars along his face; the ones that would never go away.

In those moments you wondered what it would be like if you had told him how much you cared for his quiet company or his dark humor. The way he would level a hand on the small of your back off duty at the bars as a way to silently shield you from the stares from patrons.

You’d never be able to tell him now.

Vito “The Tanner” Berto knew of a leak, and when you came back to the bunker after sending out the multiple USB sticks, the physical files, and the first-hand accounts of what was going on—eager for just a little more to make this betrayal worth it…he was waiting.

You could only fight off so many others, no matter how subpar the training on their part, before sheer mass overtook ability. Like a house of cards with a bowling ball, you were shoved to the ground surrounded by multiple dead bodies of those you’d taken down with you—writhing and hissing as if a feral animal.

Restraints were leveled with your wrists; your head pulled back so your nose faced the ceiling. You only stopped struggling when the chilled barrel of a pistol was set under your chin.

Breath stilling, it was hard to understand how, even then, all that was in the front of your mind was Simon. Simon and his brown eyes. Simon and his screams when that building went up in fire and smoke.

“Trick!”

You could still hear the exact pitch and rhythm like it was yesterday.

“Cross,” Berto mutters, gun heavy as it digs into your flesh. Men pant and grapple to keep you back as you sneer and jerk your arms. “I should have known it would be you.”

“Well,” you growl, teeth bared, “obviously you didn’t.”

A slow smirk runs on his lips.

“No, but I’ll have to rectify this. I can’t have you getting in the way.” You can only hope that the intel gets out before the end of the second month—if not, then all of this was for nothing.

Why couldn’t you have left when you had the chance?

“Fucking Hell! Trick, answer me!”

He was why.

Simon—the source of all of your problems and the only person who could fix them besides yourself. It’s a sick joke really.

Vito grabs your chin and you huff out a swift breath, heart skipping beats as he burrows his digits tightly into your skin; hard enough to leave marks. He sighs and clicks his tongue and you have to keep back a whimper as his nails create crescents along your jaw.

“You won’t tell me anything, will you, then?”

“Negative,” you spit, heated.

He scoffs. “Of course.”

Berto throws your head back as you try to snap out and bite at his hand, rabid, but the man’s already gone and the mercenaries behind you yank you back like a dog on a leash. Your knees slide along the floor and you rage trying to turn around before the others are forced to shove your face into the ground. There is a distinctive snapping in your nose bridge as the concrete comes up to meet you; the tears come instinctually after—unable to be stopped as you yell in pain.

Blood floods your nostrils and mouth, making you cough as Vito’s voice echoes in your ringing ears.

“Let me get my knives.”

—

They had you chained in some damp back room, the corners riddled with mold spores and the air heavy with condensation. You were tied to the ceiling—feet dangling uselessly below you and the tips of your boots dragging across the floor with a quiet scrape and a creak of metal.

Above you, on the hook, the chains were tied so ruthlessly that you’d lost circulation to your arms entirely, nothing but an electric buzzing far inside of your bones. Akin to the static of a TV screen in between connections. Your clothes had been shredded by blades—long sections of your flesh underneath, cut away.

Blood stains most, if not all, of the floor. It drips from your nose; it falls like rain to pool at your feet in rippling crimson.

Simon had been your partner during required interrogation training and he was far better at it than you. The man could go for hours through the mental strain that was leveled out by other soldiers on him; stoic and silent. It was the way his eyes would blank that told you he could live through far worse—that he already had. You’d had your fair share as well, but never before had you felt as hopeless as this.

There was a slim chance that anyone would come for you here. Laswell and Price would carry the guilt of it, but you didn’t want them to.

The blood slips over your lips, and the taste of copper makes you gag; spitting out saliva from your lips.

It was half your choice, after all.

You try to slip into a happy memory as the lights fade in and out, the footsteps and mutterings outside the door of little interest anymore.

ironic, that the man with the mask of a dead person brought you comfort when so little could.

You never got to tell him how much you loved him. A thin smile comes across your lips.

“Shouldn’t be out here this late,” the man utters as you lay out in the field, arms and legs splayed and twitching when the long grass brushes against them. “Past curfew.”

“Like you aren't out here with me?” You raise an eyebrow, looking up at the stars now that the large base lights have been dimmed. The air is cold, and the breeze makes you shudder through a chill. But you don’t wipe that smile from your lips. “Bit hypocritical, Simon.”

You hear a low grunt.

“Out ‘ere because you weren’t answering your damn door.” A shadow slips to your side, and the man settles down with a huff on his lips. Simon retired his combat mask for a simple balaclava instead, and he sighed long as he settled his arm on the bent form of his right leg.

You blink over at him, raising a brow.

“Looking for me, Ghosty?”

“Bloody hell, Trick.” You chuckle, shifting your arms to rest on your chest as you look back at the stars far above.

“Oh, it’s alright, Big Guy.” The man shakes his head. “I won’t tell anyone you’re going soft for me.”

“I’m not.”

“You definitely are.”

“Trick, I’m tellin’ you to—”

“Shh!” You wave a hand in his direction, silencing him and making him blink at you in deep annoyance and confusion. Ghost’s eyes were narrowed, the black of his face paint gone and smelling like standard issue body wash.

He must have gotten out of the shower and come to see if you were still awake before making his way outside when you never answered the door. Funny how he knew where you would be.

“Fucking what, then?” He growls, shoulders wide.

You place a finger to your ear, shifting so you’re sitting up on one elbow and facing Simon. On your face, a wide smile lingers, but on his, the dark brows narrow with knowledge of a deceitful event incoming. “Listen.”

A silence falls, Simon’s ears twitching for something in the long grass or across the field. Nothing. Nothing but the breeze and the way your face glowed as you watched him, eyes glinting with amusement.

After a long minute or two, he looks at you with utter bewilderment. You lean in closer, poking a finger into his bicep.

“Can you hear it, Simon?” You’re one of the few he lets call him that, though never in public.

He glares. “No.”

You flutter your digits in the air, giggles trapped in your mouth. A whisper hits the Lieutenant’s ears. “Silence.”

“Bugger off,” he hisses as you reel back and belt out laughter, holding your sides and lightly curling into yourself. “You’re worse than Johnny. Jesus.”

“Aww, c’mon!” You let your laughter die down to chuckles, sanctity of night broken, but not so between the two individuals who look at each other with brimming affection none will name.

“You’re the one that came to find me, remember?” Your tease makes Ghost roll his eyes, looking away across the open area with its wave-like grasses.

“You’re right, then, I did,” Simon grunts, his hand coming up to rub his neck. “Mistake on my part.”

“Jerk,” a soft slap is leveled to his arm and he chuckles deeply. “But you can’t fool me, Ghosty. I know you’ll always come lookin’ for me—I’m too important to you to lose.”

“Keep kiddin’ yourself, Trickster.” He doesn’t say how he would agree with the statement, it was true after all. “I won’t be dragged into your bloody messes.”

He wouldn’t leave you behind to drown in them, even if it was as simple as you sneaking out of your bunk to watch the stars.

You’d both known each other too long for that.

You smile over at him as he sighs before slipping off his mask, itching at his stubble with hard fingers. The air settles. No comment about it entering in on the see-through waves—there didn’t need to be one.

“Mhm,” you hum, beaming. “You keep thinking that, Big Guy.”

“Trick!” Your memory shifts, and you sit up immediately. You’d thought you’d just heard…

Eyes dart out over the field, jumping back and forth rapidly. You look to the side, but Simon is gone entirely.

“Simon?” Heart beating, you stand fully up and turn in a fast circle, confusion and fear infecting your mind.

“Trick!” Pain sparks in your body, and you hiss and grab at your clothes. You blink so fast that you half-believe the world is ending.

“S-Simon?!” What was happening? What was hurting so bad? Where did Simon go?

“Trick, fucking wake up!”

Your eyes snap open and you instantaneously feel the burning pain inside of your ribs.

The ground is underneath you, hard and wet from your own blood as you yowl and cough, air entering your lungs in quick bursts.

Hands encase your cheeks, shaking your head—keeping you present.

A skeletal mask littered with droplets of human fluid stares down at you, and behind it, panicked brown eyes slash through your psyche in the small moment between agony and confusion.

Simon?

“Holy hell.” It’s that same Manchester accent. The same scrape of vocal cords. “Alright, Sweetheart. Keep those eyes open—keep ‘em on me, yeah?”

What was going on? You try to open your mouth to say something but all of it is lead. Were your ribs broken? How? And why was Simon’s bottom covering pushed up to his nose; his lips stained with blood?

The man frantically goes to press into his radio.

“This is Bravo 0-7,” he breathes, and you whimper as your throat gets clogged with congealed saliva and blood. You cough violently, gagging, and Ghost quickly turns you on your side to help you expel it. His hand is hard on your shoulder.

“I say again, this is Bravo 0-7!” Those browns never leave you, shocked and serious. “Price, I’ve got ‘er. It’s not good; had to revive but I don’t know how long she’s got.”

Revive? You’re spacing in and out, limp, and trying to breathe.

Simon tears open his medical pouch and begins wrapping tourniquets—packing the wounds with gauze until you can get proper medical treatment on the helo back to base.

“Bloody…” he trails, Price barking an order over the connection to bring you out; the firefight was moving to the East to give him an opening to sneak back out. “C’mon, Trick.”

Everything swims; you want to go back to that field—those stars.

Simon was here? Truly? The thought was hard to understand in your state.

“S-Sim—” Your voice gurgles, and you can’t feel your legs. You had to tell him. Tell him the good and the bad; all of it.

“Don’t talk,” he growls, moving you as your body seizes in a state of static shock. “I’m getting you out of ‘ere.” You’re lifted up in one grand movement, Simon grunting as he shifts you carefully into a bridal hold. “Then you’re going to explain this to me when you’re squared. Won’t take no for an answer.”

You could feel the anger sizzling off of him even half-conscious. The mixing emotions that convulsed into a mess of adrenaline and desperation. Forcing your eyes to stay open, you blink up at him as he glances down at you at the same time, just before he exits the door he had broken down.

The visible skin of his lips and chin tighten; going down with the twitch of with a serious frown. Something flutters behind his eyes as he stares before glancing away and clearing his throat.

“Eyes on me, Trickster. Don’t you dare close ‘em.” You grimace as he begins jogging, heavy boots echoing along the empty corridor as the sounds of gunfire and pandemonium sound off from the other side of the bunker.

It was hard to push back the black at the sides of your vision; already it was seeping back in. Ghost holds you tight, unwilling to even let you slip an inch from his grip as the lights above swirl, brightening and dimming.

“Oi!” You’re jostled, and you snap back to it, tensing as your wounds flex and pull. Simon glares. “What’d I just say?”

Your weakly poisoned grimace makes his lips twitch up.

“Good.”

There’s the sudden flick of a safety being clicked off, and the Lieutenant halts in a jerking of feet and a ruffle of canvas.

“I’ve heard about a Ghost making his rounds, hm?” Berto stands at the end of the hall, pistol held in front of him. “I saw an apparition disappearing to find one of its own. No worries. She’ll be a ghost, too, soon enough. Perhaps I’ll have to put you both to rest together.”

The voice makes you go panicked, remembering the tear of flesh and the sharp blades slicing your skin away, chunks that peeled, and the long stripes of flexible tendons. Your lungs fight for breath, your head weakly slapping into Simon’s neck after an attempt to move your body. Limbs shake and battle nerves; the fabric of your brain.

Your blood stains the man’s gear all the way down the front. It’s dripping to the floor, down his arms and off his elbows. You’re bathing him in it—a full-body baptism of betrayal.

“Berto,” Ghost says, accent casual despite the gun leveled at him. The name is drawn out. “Apologies, but I’m taking back what’s mine.” He tilts his head. “Scratch that, I’m not apologizing for getting back on a Bastard like you, eh? Pity I can’t hang you up like a hog, I’m proper good with a blade too, but as you can see, I’m on a crunch.”

Vito’s face goes confused, skin scrunching. “What—”

The bang of a bullet being discharged echoes down the way. The clatter of a great expulsion of air from lungs. Stumbling. Gargles.

The slam of a body to the ground.

Smoke spreads up from under the clutch of your knees, where Ghost holds the abyssal body of an M19 forward, his finger lightly on the trigger before he shifts it back in well-practiced discipline.

“Slag,” he spits.

Simon hikes you farther into him, lending over his available body heat as you shiver. He presses his face into the top of your head, sighing in relief before starting his pace again. The man’s lips brush your flesh as your lids flutter.

“Still with me?” You whine into his neck, fingers twitching. “I know it hurts, Love. I know. Easy with it.”

It didn’t just hurt, it burned. Buried like the nine layers of Hell.

He keeps whispering to you, slinking around corners and stepping into shadows. By the time he makes it outside with you, the chill of the air on the bottom of his face he didn’t even bother to re-cover, you’re tapering on the edge of oblivion again.

Teetering like a porcelain doll on the end of the high shelf.

“Bravo 0-6, leaving the bunker now, I need that MedEvac prepped and ready to go,” Simon speaks quickly, not wasting a single instant.

John’s voice wafts through. “Copy, 0-7. Helo is comin’ in, be ready it’s going to get hot!”

“Affirm. Keep it frosty down ‘ere.” There’s a low chuckle and the swift wizz of bullets.

“Get our Trickster back in one piece, Ghost.” Simon hears the buzzing of helicopter blades in the night, a slick form descending from the dark clouds not moments later. He turns away from the flurry of air, walking hurriedly backward so the air doesn’t aggravate you.

“Trick,” Ghost calls to you above the noise, hearing the hurried feet of medics coming out to take you from him. Your face is scrunched and you burrow into him. “I’m handing you over!”

You try to open your eyes enough to convey your unease at that. You have to tell him. You have to explain why you had to do it. The guilt is eating you; gnawing with red teeth and gripping with devil’s claws. You have to explain that you love him even if he hates you now.

Medics grapple you away, and you are in pain, lips peeling back to gasp sharply, thrashing.

No!

“Fuck,” Ghost growls, pulling you away from the men as they ask him what in the bloody hell he’s doing. He doesn’t even know—all he knows is that he’s pissed at you for what you did, but never in a million years did that mean he wanted to see you in pain.

Simon can’t lie, when he was told you were alive, the universe had held its breath. A miracle. A ruse. But alive. Alive and trapped.

“Stop it!” He yells, caging you into him. “I’m here! I’m right here, Trickster!”

You’re already too gone for it, not recognizing the metal of the helo as you’re settled on your back, the loud slam of the door. Fingers pull and prob as you hiss and snap, suffocating.

Ghost holds down your shoulders, his eyes right above yours—but you’re not looking. The helo takes off

“Bloody hell,” Simon yells. “Look at me!”

You don’t know what compels you to do so, but your eyes open just the slightest bit wider. Brown melts into your pupils, taking you in and reminding you of chilled summer nights. Simon. You pant but stop struggling.

The medics jump into action, ripping away the remains of your shirt and pants so they can get to the wounds; assess the damage done.

“That’s it,” Simon sighs long, swallowing. “That’s a girl. There we go, Sunshine.”

You blink, face peeled as everything swirls far more aggressively this time.

“Listen to me, Trick. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere, you understand. You said I’d always find you, yeah?” Hands grab your cheeks. “Well, I fucking did, eh? I found you. We’re gonna fix you up, Sweetheart. It’ll all be gone by morning.” You stutter down a breath, ragged throat stretching.

“Let ‘em fix you up—”

“I love you.”

It all fades to black, but all you remember is the sweep of horror that spreads behind the man’s eyes.

—

“You went back,” Price’s arms are crossed, and he stares at you as your fingers play with the sheets of the hospital bed. “Why?”

You sigh and rub at your face.

“Trick.”

“I felt like I needed to,” you give away, twitching your fingers out in an expression of nonchalantness. “I felt…” Your voice trailed off into a growl. “Bad.”

“Feelings aren’t a part of this, Trickster, you bloody know that,” John hisses, leaning his head closer as you glare silently. “If you’d left when you could, none of this would have fucking happened.”

“I feel bad, Price!” You break, snapping. “I fucking know! But I-I thought if I just got a bit more intel, then this would have been worth it.” Taking a deep breath you shake your head and rub at your face, all of the bandages and stitches pulling tight. “It’s eating at me. I can’t…I can’t just act like what I lied about can be forgotten.”

You shrug as the man listens silently, monitors beeping and the small buzz of the overhead lights.

“Soap barely looks at me—Gaz gave me that fucking pity smile and it makes me want to scream.”

“They’ll get over it.” The Captain repeats what he said months prior firmly. “They know the Op was top priority, they’ll grow up and be back to fucking around in days.”

You scoff, muttering in a dejected tone. “He won’t.”

John is still, fixing his feet from under him as he rolls his nose and looks away slowly.

Simon hadn’t come to visit once in the time you’d been here in the ward—four days. That fact alone makes you restless. You don’t remember what you said to him, if you said anything. But you knew that he wasn’t going to be going out of his way to be near you anymore.

You’d taken a grenade to the relationship you’d built. Toy building blocks are scattered.

“Simon’s…Simon,” Price ends on. You groan and itch at the IV in your hand. “He cares about you more than anyone, yeah? He just needs time. Wasn’t himself after the set-up.”

“I’ve been told,” Gaz had informed you about the Lieutenant's self-isolation after your ‘death’. The snappy orders—deathly glares. He’d gone back to the ruthless man he was in the field and instead of being directed at his enemies, it was directed at them.

Kyle explained how he’d argued with Price about how he could have gotten to you, before abruptly falling silent and stalking away as if a flip had been switched. Snake eyes and clenched fists.

They’d heard him in the gym late at night, reaming on the punching bags. They didn’t think he slept more than three hours per day if the red lines in his eyes were anything to go by.

And then they were told that you were alive but captured, and he’d gotten worse.

You’d nearly started sobbing when the Sergeant had told you all of that.

“I betrayed his trust, Price,” you level. “I…I never wanted to do that to him. Ever. Not Simon.”

A shadow passes by the door just as the Captain grunts. “That’s the job.”

“That’s not the job I signed up for when I got into this. We don’t lie to our own.”

“‘We get dirty, the world—’” You cut him off.

“Yeah, yeah, ‘stays clean’.” Your eyes level with his. “I can do the dirty work, John, you know that. Infiltration and undercover work is what I’m good at.” The man nods slightly. “But if you ask me to betray One-Four-One’s trust again, I’m out.”

Blue eyes blink in shock, but you don’t let him speak.

“Find someone else to get fake blown up in a building. I can’t get his fucking screams out of my head.” John watches you silently, eyes narrowed.

You meet that gaze head-on, not backing down from this.

The Captain shakes his head a minute later. “Bloody made for each other,” he mutters under his breath, grunting. Another shadow slips past going the opposite direction, probably a nurse.

Without another word John turns and exits the room, tossing a hand behind his head casually in a way to say goodbye.

You huff and roll your eyes, heat on your cheeks.

The day wains, and you let the nurses come in to do their checkups and replace the IV. As the curtains are pulled back into place, supper sits heavy in your stomach.

You wanted to see Simon.

You knew it wouldn’t go well, and wouldn’t be the goody-goody outcome you prayed for…but you felt wrong without apologizing in person. It went against your morals, and already those were incredibly skewed. Maybe he’d yell, or even ignore you as if you weren’t there.

Simon wasn’t above not speaking to people he didn’t like.

You had to try.

When all was dark, you shuffled out of the hospital bed and fought the weakness of your legs. Shaking like a leaf, you walked around with only your tied gown, unapologetic of the slit down the back showing flashes of your bra and underwear.

It wouldn’t be anything the Lieutenant hadn’t seen before.

Walking through the silence, you sigh and stand outside of his door; dread in your heart and seeping from the pulled stitches of your wounds. Your bare feet on the tile make you shiver.

Lifting up a fist, you hesitate.

Your hand hovers over the wood, sliding forward before you pull it back to you. Closing your eyes tight, you clench your jaw once and take a deep breath.

Knock-knock-knock. Knock-knock.

The sequence was your call sign. If you knocked like that, he would know it was you—whereas Simon's own was just a single slam of the side of his fist.

The only real problem now was that he wasn’t answering.

You stare dumbly at the barrier, blinking like a fool. It takes you longer than you’d like to admit to understand the realization that he wasn’t ignoring you—he just wasn’t in his room.

Taking a step back, you rub the back of your neck in exasperation and hurry to the nearest exit.

“Of course,” you breathe. You know exactly where he is at a time like this.

The field holds a standing shadow, a ghost of issued fatigues with a thick jacket against the chill that leaves you shivering. Simon stares out over the training grounds with his hands in his pockets, balaclava pulled all the way down to hide him from you.

You come to a slow halt behind him and stare.

It’s not long before the man gunts, turning his head back from over his shoulder to look at you blankly. He knew you were there.

The eye contact stays for a long, long while—until you’re hypnotized in the shades of brown and amber and the large build that seems to broaden because of your appearance.

“I’m here to apologize.” You say it breathlessly. “I’m not asking you to hear me out, but I have to let you know I regret doing it. Price said that it was time-sensitive and I—”

Stopping yourself, you look away. It sounded too much like an excuse, you hissed to yourself. At the end of the day, it was still your acceptance that pushed the pawn forward.

“I’m sorry, Simon,” you breathe. “I betrayed your trust.”

His eyes are piercing you, but you still can’t look at him. The man slightly turns your way. His voice was monotone and grunting out like a dog.

“You think I couldn’t handle it?” Your heart starts, and you’re shaking your head instantly.

“No.” You explain quickly—honestly. “It’s that…I didn’t want you to.”

You hear his lips take in a quiet breath. Simon rolls his shoulders before looking away from you. Nothing could have prepared you for what came next.

“You said you loved me.” Your body freezes, jaw going slack as your face drops. You don’t speak, mute as if the air in your lungs has been stolen.

You had done…what?

All of your tricks couldn’t get you out of this one.

“I,” you force a fake laugh, hands beginning to shake. “I, what? No, I’m sure that’s not what I said. A-are you sure it wasn’t, like, an ‘I appreciate you’ or maybe a…a,” your voice catches. “A whole ‘I’m fond of you’ sort of thing…? Hm?”

Simon takes a step forward and you take one back. This was worse than torture, you decided. The pain in your pulling stitches and re-set nose was welcome here.

“Trick,” Ghost utters, and you stare hard at his neck, humming. “Stop talking.”

“Copy,” you whisper quickly, shoulders falling.

He’s so close you can feel his body heat melting into you, and you want nothing more than to touch him. Simon’s hand comes up to your chin, and he angles it up as you stop breathing, lips parted.

“I heard you in the med ward talkin’ to Price. Was outside the door the ‘ole time.” The shadow.

He tilts your head to the side to stare at the medical tape over the slashes in your skin. The scars won’t bother you—you had plenty of others to show as well. But Simon was…studying you. Assessing.

His eyes blink slowly with those long pale lashes, and they slide up to you as he leans in close to your ear. Still, you stand comatose.

“You put me through a fucking heap ‘o hurt, Love.” You stare over his shoulder, not speaking, not moving.

Simon leans back and lets go of your chin, brushing a finger over your nose and the puffy skin there.

“Never do that again.” It’s final, how he says it. But the layers of depth are plain to hear. Simon speaks low and even—gaze trapping yours like a curse.

You know he won’t talk about the things you’ve heard. The aggression or the late-night gym trips. You’ve known him for years, and know his brain like the back of your hand.

Shivering, you nod once, content with not answering verbally to break the sanctity of the moment. Seeing Simon like this made you ease your fears. You clear your throat to push back the stuffiness.

“Thought you held grudges, Big Guy?” Nearly not heard, you mutter and pick at where the IV needle is supposed to be.

A hand catches yours and stops you from making it bleed.

“Do,” Ghost grumbles, turning your hand over and moving his face closer until you feel his breath. “Just not with my Bird.”

His balaclava is suddenly up to his nose, and those lips that had been covered in your blood previously situated themselves perfectly to yours.

You gasp, arm outstretched beside you in shock.

You’d kissed him before, but this felt different. More intimate. Simon’s arms slip around your waist, and you retaliate by locking your shaking arms behind his back, feeling the gentle passes of his lips.

Mouth to mouth, you breathe each other in as if grasping for the other’s soul in desperation. A desperation that tells you how much the beast of a man around you was terrified of your death and the body he had to carry into the helo—of the lengths he would go to stave death from touching your tender flesh.

No, only he was allowed to do that, and he was a reaper in his own right.

A small death that infected you at every breath puffing into your mouth, every whine and whimper he could draw like water to swallow down as ambrosia. Nectar of the Gods, and it was right there in his arms. Back. Alive.

To be alive in the summer field of this old military base was to accept that death, and into it, hope that the few moments you had together truly made a difference.

Simon would hold you there—and when that was done, wrap you in his jacket and carry your battered body back inside; watching your swollen lips and the wide eyes as they gaze back at him.

Because he could hate you all he wanted for this, for the lies, for the way you made him care…but the both of you would still be alive to do so.

He guessed that was all that mattered.

TAGS:

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fallenneziah · 6 months

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Summary: Teasing your husband John while he's busy with work was already a risky move, but coming to see him while he's with his lieutenant... Even riskier.

Cw: spit roasting, oral (m! And f! receiving), teasing, dirty talk, Price sharing his beautiful wife. Afab reader, reader uses she/her. Multiple orgasms, pet names, overstimulation.

Nearly 4k, another thing I guess that could count for kinktober. Enjoy?

Admittedly, you shouldn't have been texting John while you knew he would be at work. But you were feeling yourself and wanted to send him the necessary photos to include him. John knew you were not above teasing him, no matter what the workday would be like.

So when his phone went off again, he had to do his best to ignore it, swishing his shallow glass of whiskey while thumbing through a record report with Ghost.

Although it did get his mind wandering, thinking about what it could be this time. If you were in that new lingerie, or if you'd ditched your clothes altogether to show him what he wanted.

He huffed to push away the thought, taking another sip of whiskey and placing the glass down gently.

"They made it to the waypoint before they had to turn back." Ghost said, finding photos from the back folder and pulling them out. "That rock perch we had was completely blown. I guess they were spotted and not spared…"

Price didn't have the option to reply before the second of silence was cut by the sound of his phone. He hummed, finally picking up his phone and seeing the photo you had sent him. For the love of… You're going to send him crazy. And he didn't know if it was good yet.

He placed his phone back down and shook his head softly, naughty girl.

"Sorry, I should've turned that off." He murmured, looking down at the report once more. "Did they find anything?"

"A couple of guns." Ghost answered, flipping over the paper and placing it down for the two to share.

Price nods, clicking his tongue thoughtfully as he reads.

The two continued to talk, unaware that just down the hall, you were cooking up ideas in your head. Looking at your tight military uniform. Oh, you could wear it. Not as if seeing you fully clothed didn't get John hard anyway.

You'd been teasing him all morning, and now you were planning to head to his office for a little mid-work quickie.

You slipped out of the room, looking down the hall before heading for the office. Your hips had a particular sway, knowing John had to be tensely waiting for you.

You made it to his door and listened, hearing him talking. If he was on the phone, then you had the double advantage.

Without a second thought, you entered. "John~ baby-" you managed to cut your script off when you saw Ghost sitting in the chair across the desk, looking at you expectantly.

Price leaned forward in his chair and cleared his throat. "Love, I'm a little busy right now."

You blushed softly, nodding and attempting to back away, but John's familiar whistle kept you.

He motioned you over to his side, keeping his eyes on you, even though Ghost would burn his gaze through you.

You closed the door and came to his side, his hand resting on your hip, running smooth circles over it.

Your hand gently combed through John's hair, his hand moving from your hip up against your belt, slipping it inside the fabric. You gasped softly, biting your lip in anticipation as his fingers pulled your panties and slipped past.

Ghost's body language didn't give away that he knew. He didn't give away anything, actually.

They just continued to mutter and mull over their paperwork again, John making a 2% effort to give you the attention you sought.

It made your cunt clench, shifting back into his hand as his wrist made it into your pants, middle finger slowly circling over your slit, feeling the juices building up between your labia from your excitement.

Your grip on his hair tightened as his finger finally pressed over your clit, making you moan. You knew Ghost wasn't stupid. And he knew you two well enough to know something was happening.

But it didn't make you feel guilty for being so open about your pleasure.

Ghost remained, not saying a word about it, however. Even as you felt yourself melting into John's side, hips shifting to help get his fingers where you wanted them to go.

Your eyelids fluttered when he pressed his finger against your clit, circling briefly and pulling back to run his fingers through your slick mess.

And yet you felt annoyed you weren't getting even half the attention you wanted. You knew he was busy, but now he was teasing you back. As if telling you to be patient or be bold enough to do something about it.

And oh, how you wished you could have stood there and taken his teasing back like a champ. But you couldn't, not like this. You hadn't spent all morning for his attention, only to get off on his hand subconsciously. No, no, no.

You shifted your body, leaning into his ear and nuzzling his cheek. "John…"

He chuckled lowly, his middle finger rubbing your clit softly and making you sigh.

"Yes, my love?" He murmured back, looking down at his paperwork and writing a few notes.

You groaned softly, feeling your legs shake. "John…please, baby."

"You'll have to be specific, my darling."

Ghost grunts over the paperwork, looking up from the photos to you two. John, he wasn't ashamed. He was protective, but the idea of sharing his wife with a close man. When being such a slut for his attention. It didn't bother him.

John looked at Ghost, who shifted his gaze away.

"Why don't we take a little break, Ghost. We'll come back to this later."

Ghost nodded understandingly. "Yes, sir." He moved to stand, but Price stopped him. "That won't be necessary."

Ghost raised an eyebrow, and you as well, feeling your breath hitch to suppress your whine.

Price smirked a little, working his finger across your slit, dipping his fingers into your cunt to tease your sloppy, needy hole.

"Always so needy… It's like she wants the attention two of me could give her…"

He looked at Ghost, who returned his gaze. When Ghost made no move to leave or dismiss himself to give them privacy, John took it as acceptance. And Ghost knew he wouldn't get pushed away.

Your cheeks feel a bit warmer, hips squirming when John's finger makes it to your warm insides, but pull away all too soon.

He hums, looking at his slick fingers. "Pants off, love." Your face flushes a little warmer, looking between them.

"John-"

"Pants off, princess, be nice and good for me."

You shudder under his voice, finding yourself resigning and unbuckling your belt in seconds, tearing down the zipper and stepping out of them, leaving you in your panties and top.

John hums, moving the files and papers away, clearing his laptop and nodding toward the desk, to which you comply.

John stands, pushing you back against the cold wood, his lips finding yours as his hands mess with the buttons of your shirt, groaning and pulling them open. The ends hanging over your shoulders, falling across your wrists.

"So pretty…" he hummed, moving to undo his own pants.

Ghost watched, the growing bulge in his pants giving him away.

John noticed, smiled at him and held a hand out for him, offering him his spot.

Ghost preferred to stay seated, feeling his pants straining with you pushed under Price like that. And John continued, kissing you and taking your bra off, strong hands massaging and cupping your soft breasts. Pushing them together and pulling away so he could suck one of your nipples.

You moan softly, gasping out his name happily.

Ghost's eyes bore into your back, palming his crotch, watching you two mingle.

Price wouldn't force Ghost, but just the extra pair of eyes got his cock a lot harder than he first expected.

You looked gorgeous and needy like this, and Price could tell Ghost agreed.

You inhaled deeply, feeling John pushing you back, his hands firmly spreading your legs wide as he pulled your panties down.

Your hands gripped the edge of the desk as Price kneeled down in front of you, pulling your hips forward again so you were just perfect.

Your eyes focused on him, watching him lean in, his beard making you shiver as his tongue flicked and curled up and down, reaching your slit. Your eyelids fluttered as he cared for you, mouth working away the slick puddling from your core.

You whimpered, gripping the desk tighter. A shadow fell over you, and you looked up, moaning when you saw Ghost. He shuffled forward, forcing your back straight as his chest pressed against you, his gloves off so he could feel your soft breasts.

His hands were larger and rougher, his touch feeling different than John's. Groping and pinching at the supple flesh, tugging at your nipple while John licked away.

You could barely contain yourself, panting and moaning from their combined touch on your skin. Ghost's eyes glued to you, playing with you as if this was the first time he'd touched someone. And yet his hands moved skillfully against the hard buds of your breasts, squeezing and pinching in a way that makes your cunt ache.

John's hands held your thighs, pulling your legs wider as his mouth worked you. Your toes curling from the sensation.

"Oh please, oh god…" you gasped, feeling yourself reaching the peak.

You looked down at your husband between your legs, his mouth working its magic blissfully and effortlessly. He knew your ins and outs, the spots that made you tick.

Combined, they were making short work of you.

The only noises in the room were John's muffled grunts and your moans of desperation for where they were taking you.

You moaned louder, trying to buck your hips to get yourself to the finish line, but their combined weight held you in place, Ghost's hands pinning your shoulders and holding you steady, John's hands holding your thighs open wide.

You were at their mercy, trying to wiggle out in vain, strong hands keeping you down.

Ghost's warm breath hit your neck, the fabric of his mask pressing against it, whispering just out of reach of your ear.

"Bein' such a good slut, sweetheart."

You shivered, exhaling harshly, your eyes moving from John to try and look at Ghost. His hand took your chin, thumb pressing to your bottom lip, and he turned your face away, back to John.

"Focus on what Price is doin', love."

His voice made your stomach drop, his words hitting your ears like honey.

John's tongue circled over your clit, pressing his nose against your mound, his eyes fluttering closed, taking a deep breath.

You couldn't help but whimper.

Ghost chuckles softly, his hand still holding your jaw, his other moving down your body and groping your breast once more.

"John…" You whimpered, squirming. Price looked up at you, kissing your clit and pulling away briefly, his lips warm with your juices.

"You're doing so good, Princess, so good."

"She's a fuckin' whore ain't she Price?"

John smiles, humming his agreement and turning his gaze to Ghost.

"She'll take any attention she can get. Ain't that right, love?"

You look into his eyes, wanting him, to be near him. You'd take attention, only if he would give it. You admit you were a slut for any attention he'd offer you.

Ghost chuckles, his hands moving up and down your sides, his breath hot.

"I'd say she's a good little slut."

"Good little slut." John echoes, leaning back down and sucking your clit, his teeth brushing the sensitive nerves, tongue flicking through your labia.

You continue to squirm, lips parting from your orgasm being so close. Feeling Ghost's breaths, his hands dragging over your breasts and flicking your nipples. Whispering words in your ears that make your stomach twist like a knot.

"John, please…" You pant breathlessly.

"Please?" He asks, pulling away, his beard dripping with your slick. "What does my girl need? You want to cum?"

You nod frantically.

"Use your words, my love."

"Please- please, John, make me cum, I need to." You whine. "Please… Please." Your eyes fill with pleasured tears, welling you just shy of spilling. His fingers tease your slit, circling just enough to give you friction before pushing in.

"There's my girl." He rubs your clit with his thumb, slipping his fingers deep into your slit, making you arch and whine.

"C'mon, princess. Be a good little whore for me and cum on my hand."

"Fuck!"

Ghost holds your wrists down, watching you buck and writhe, feeling yourself reach the edge.

You cum on Price's fingers, feeling him tight inside you, warm cum spilling down over him. He hums in satisfaction, rubbing your slit gently. "That's it…"

You shiver and shake, breathing heavily. And still not feeling satisfied. John sits back in his chair, undoing his belt and pants, pulling out his cock and stroking it firmly.

Ghost continued to keep you still, his chest pressed to you while you watched John. His cock was leaking pre-cum, swollen from anticipation.

"On your knees, sweetheart. Why don't we let the lieutenant have some fun of his own."

You whimper, attempting to look up at Ghost, but his hand pushes your head away gently, nudging and urging you across the desk to a new position, stomach flat across the hardwood.

Ghost looked down at your dripping pussy, running his fingers over your labia. He plays with your wetness a moment, slapping your ass gentler than you would have expected.

Price hummed, stepping forward, smacking his hard cock against your cheek gently. "You look so good like this, love…"

You look up at him with that precious look in your eyes, opening your mouth when he cupped your jaw, pressing his cock in against your tongue.

"Atta girl- there it is." He grunts, sliding into your mouth.

Ghost rubs your ass, squeezing the soft flesh between his hands. Finally, undoing his belt and his zipper, freeing his cock from his jeans.

His eyes remain locked on your body, stroking his cock and rubbing the length against your ass. Cock drooling in need, salty pre-cum leaking across your plump ass.

He takes his chance, pushing his fat tip against your dripping slit, teasingly rubbing his cock between your wet lips, gathering up your slick.

You moan around John, his hips thrusting shallowly. You look up at him, keeping your eyes on your husband, one hand gripping the desk, the other on his hip. John's hand resting under your chin, his cock sliding into you. "Look at you, my good girl… Always my good girl."

Ghost groans, feeling himself slip in easier. Feeling his cock get soaked by your tight cunt, his grip on your hips tightening.

"Shit."

John looked at Ghost, watching him, his hips thrusting slowly. "Feel how good she is? How wet?"

"Fuck…" Ghost's head tilted back, his hands moving up your waist, his hips snapping harder, making you moan louder, vibrating around John's cock.

They work in tandem, soon finding a rhythm, Ghost's hips slowly riding in and out of your tight, wet cunt. John slid his cock further down your throat, helping you relax and take him, seeing your helpless expression.

"Fuckin' hell…" Ghost groans, exhaling softly, smacking your ass and squeezing the flesh between his fingers again.

You whine around John, looking up at him with teary eyes and seeing his lustful gaze.

"You're doing so good, my love. Fuck." He groaned, his head tilting back as you sucked his cock, working your tongue along the underside of his cock, swallowing spit and pre-cum. Choking along his length and trying to relax again as he pushes deeper, hitting the back of your throat and sliding you along.

Your back arches, feeling Ghost's hips pick up a little, cock driving into your tight cunt, watching his length disappear into your dripping, desperate cunt.

He was getting to fuck his Captains wife… Fuck, you'd think it only happens in porn, and yet here he is. With your tight cunt wrapped around him. A cunt claimed by Price shared with him. Such a good cunt at that. Hearing you choking down Price's cock makes him harder, his hands wrapping tightly around your quivering hips.

Your thighs trembled, your cunt squeezing him, begging him for more.

"Christ."

John pulls away, stroking his cock as you whine and whimper, his cock throbbing, watching Ghost fuck you.

Pre-cum and saliva still connecting your mouth to his cock, more of it dripping down your face as he strokes himself, seeing Ghost starting to pick up his pace. His hand comes down across your ass, making you whine again.

It felt so good. In a way, it felt sinful and yet, seeing how much John enjoyed watching you get fucked made it all worthwhile.

Ghost's grunts are getting louder, his breath hitching. "Fuckin' hell.."

"You gonna cum, Lieutenant?"

Ghost's hand moves down between your thighs, fingers working against your clit, feeling you clench around him.

He grunts in acknowledgement, spanking your ass. Admittedly it had been a bit, but the idea of cumming in your cunt made him bristle in utter arousal. Especially of a woman who doesn't belong to him. His cock throbbing inside your pussy, eyelids fluttering as he fucks his hips into you.

You gasp when he forces you onto the desk, grabbing your hair and forcing your gaze up. You moan, Price stroking his cock against your cheek.

Ghost's thrusts grow more and more erratic, his breathing laboured. "Fuck…" he hissed, pushing you down harder, fucking his hips into yours.

"Fuck fuck-" his grip on your hair tightens, making you moan loudly, gasping out John's name. Ghost grits his teeth, slamming balls deep into you before pulling out, shooting his cum across your back, splattering along your spine.

"Fuck…" He pulls away, slowly stroking his cock, watching you pant and whimper.

Price's smile only grows. "Good girl, love." He caresses your cheek, grabbing your underarms and pulling you off the desk. You pant, your pussy dripping, feeling fucked out just from that, but you aren't done.

Price sits on his chair, pulls his pants down and urges you onto his lap. He turns you, your back to his chest, and he lines his cock up with your cunt, pressing his length into you.

You shudder and whine, arching into him as he grips your hips, helping lift you up and down along his cock.

You rest your head against his shoulder, his hands groping your breasts as you bounce along his cock.

"Look at him, Princess. Look at how well you took him." He hummed, his breath fanning over your face, feeling his warm touch against your skin.

You pant, trying to hold your head up as you slide along John's cock. Your eyelids flutter, and your breathing is heavy. "John…."

"You've always been a good little girl." He groaned, his teeth grazing your ear lobe, nipping at it and hearing you whimper.

"You like this, don't you, love?"

You nod, swallowing thickly and trying to relax around his cock. Ghost finally approaches as his cock recovers, stroking it and getting down on his knees before you, sucking your breasts as Price fucks you.

You moaned louder, feeling overwhelmed by the attention, having both of them and loving it.

John's hand wraps around your throat, not squeezing, not choking, just holding. Your hands move, one to his hand, the other to Ghost's mask, tugging the fabric gently.

He sucks your breasts, stroking his cock as well. Price continued to bounce you on his cock steadily, hearing your moans and groans. Panting and whimpering.

"Fuck, Princess. You're so good." John groans, squeezing your throat a bit, feeling your body shiver.

Ghost's cock twitches, a few drops of precum dripping down to his hand.

"Oh god…" you whimpered, jerking away from Ghost's mouth.

Ghost leans up, watching you.

"You like it…" Price hums, his hand moving to your ass. "You like it, Princess? Having both of us fucking you…"

"Fuck you're tight, princess." He grunts.

"Go ahead, love. Cum."

His cock throbbing, feeling you clench around him, and God, you just whimper and mewl, feeling him slide in so deep and cumming, coating his cock with your cum.

"Mm, fuck…"

"That's my girl." He continues to thrust, his hips snapping up, cock throbbing, cumming into your tight cunt.

You whimper again, just having his cock inside you, making you feel full.

"Such a good girl." John hums, kissing your neck, sucking softly, making you shudder.

Price lifts your leg, pulling you off his cock and stroking it across your ass. You gasp, breath hitching. "John-"

His cock presses against your asshole, grunting and forcing you down. "Shh, easy baby, Easy, love." He cooes to you.

"Fuck!" You yelp, feeling John's hand squeezing your neck a little as he grips your hips tight to his own.

"Fuck, Princess…" he groans.

You groan, arching into him, your body shivering.

Ghost strokes his cock, watching you get fucked in the ass and hearing your whimpers.

"You can take it, love."

You whimper, but you feel his cock spreading you open a little, the head of his cock sliding through your walls. It feels so good. So full. So dirty. Ghost jerks his cock faster, watching your trembling frame as his Captain's cock slides into your ass.

"You like it, Princess?"

"I can feel you're excited, my love." He chuckles, Ghost groaning at the sight of her. "Look at him. Look at how much he likes watching me fuck you."

You gasp, your eyes fluttering. The feeling is intense, so much so that you can't think of much else. You feel like you could cum again it feels that good.

Ghost leans in, pushing your thighs apart more, hooking them over Price's and sinks his mouth onto your abused cunt. You jerk and cry when he licks and sucks on your clit. Price chuckles softly, kissing your throat. "Easy, princess. Taking it so well…"

You whined, tears stinging your eyes from the overstimulation. It felt so good, being between them, having them treating you like this.

"I-I can't!" You cry, but John gently silences you, stroking your throat. His cock continues to ram into you, stretching you nicely around him.

Ghost's tongue lapped through your labia, flicking your clit and swirling around your slit. You jerked your hips again, convulsing and cumming again, what little you had left in you sloppily dripping from your fluttering slit.

John's hips settled, rubbing your thigh slowly. "There…"

Ghost leaned back, wiping his lip with his thumb. Having cum a second time, seed dripped down his cock and onto the floor.

John had one hand keeping you firmly still in his lap. You panted and squirmed, but didn't fight. He grabbed some tissues from his desk and handed them to Ghost, who did his best to clean himself and the floor.

Price then grabbed the file and his computer again. Ghost zipped up his pants, fixed his mask and sat back down across from you both, legs parted, watching Price.

Your cunt clenched, having just been utterly railed, and now they were back to business.

Price poured another whiskey into their cups and swallowed his back, sighing softly. You leaned into John's neck, and they continued with their work.

#cod smut #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x female reader #simon riley x reader #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader smut #captain john price x you #captain john price x reader #captain john price #captain price #captain price x reader smut #john price x reader #john price x reader smut

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vanteguccir · 3 months

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GRWM with boyfriend's clothes | Matt Sturniolo

Matt Sturniolo x fashion influencer!reader

Summary: Where Y/N is a fashion influencer and makes a GRWM only with her boyfriend's, Matt, clothes.

Warning: None.

Requested?: Yes, by @matthewsspecial

Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

PS.: I used the queen of brazilian GRWM, Lele Burnier, as an inspiration for the way that Y/N would produce her content in here. I'll leave the link to one of her tiktoks just so you can have an idea of what I imagined, even though Lele speaks in Portuguese in it.

PS. 2: This is in the same universe as Truth or Eat | Matt Sturniolo.

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"Hellooooo." Y/N spoke, slightly bent forward facing the screen of her phone, with her hands raised while moving her fingers in a "bye bye" gesture. Her voice slightly thinned due to the excitement she felt to record that content, while a fluffy white robe covered her body. "You asked a lot for a GRWM with Matt's clothes after the Truth or Eat video on the triplets' channel, and I, as always your favorite fashion influencer, decided to do it!"

The girl was in her own closet, which was in a small room in the house next to her shared room with Matt. As soon as Y/N moved into the triplets' house about a year ago, it was decided that that space would be her personal space to record her content, and she turned it into a large closet, filled with clothes, shoes and bags, all of all sizes, colors, models and brands.

Additionally, Y/N decided to include two pink puffs in the corner with a small bookshelf full of books and magazines, so when she wanted a moment to herself, she could stay there. Although she never used the puffs alone, she was always accompanied by Matt or Nick to read or just talk. The boys loved that corner, they always said it had an incredible vibe.

"Today we're not going to use any of the items behind me, I went to Matt's closet and got some options from there." Y/N explained, momentarily pointing to the amount of clothes behind her, before picking up two hangers with pants. "As you already know, we're going to start at the bottom." The girl said smiling, slightly shaking her hands in excitement.

"Here we have two pants, since they make up 90% of my boyfriend's closet." She paused as she rolled her eyes playfully. "One is a baggy jeans with these details as if it was sewn fabric on top of fabric." The girl lifted the jeans in her right hand, bringing it closer to the camera. "And the other is a pair of basic black sweatpants from Fresh Love." She lowered her right hand and raised her left, bringing the hanger closer to the camera.

Y/N paused dramatically as she looked at the two pieces before completely lowering the hanger with the sweatpants and holding the one with the jeans in the air.

"I think we can all agree that jeans wins, right? Sorry, Chris." She smiled at the camera.

Y/N left the sweatpants hanger aside, taking the jeans off their respective hanger and throwing it to the side, keeping them folded in half in her hands.

She quickly grabbed two still-folded t-shirt options and placed them in the front of the jeans.

"Now, for the shirts, we also have two options. Both would be good since they are basic. One is a black t-shirt that Matt bought personalized with Matt + Liam written." Y/N pointed with her index finger on top of the respective t-shirt while holding back a laugh at Matt's photos mixed with Liam's. "And the second one is a navy blue baby look with just a white phrase on the front." She did the same with the baby look, her mind reminding her of the last time Matt wore it, making her cheeks take on a red color, she loved it when her boyfriend used it.

The girl paused for a second, looking at the camera thoughtfully.

"I think we'll wear the t-shirt, I don't know if this baby look would look very good with these jeans because of the waistband." Y/N commented, looking at the pieces briefly.

The video cut to her already dressed in the two pieces.

"For the feet, I thought a lot between my basic black Converse or my black and white Samba, and it's obvious that the Samba won." She spoke while gesturing with her right hand, her left hand busy holding her chosen pair of sneakers. "You know my love for Adidas Samba."

Again the video cut to her with the complete look.

"Now, to give that final touch, we just arrange the t-shirt so that it goes better with the jeans." Y/N spoke as she turned sideways to the camera and tucked the back of her t-shirt into her jeans, so that the front was in a V.

"Finally, it's obvious that accessories couldn't be missing, right?" The girl smiled, turning around and taking one of the small wooden boxes from her closet, opening it and placing the lid on the floor quickly, before moving her fingers through the jewelry there. "I think this outfit calls for silver accessories, mainly because it only has black and white in it." Y/N spoke as she selected a pair of earrings and some necklaces, bracelets, and rings.

The video cut to the girl already decked out in all her jewelry except her earrings.

"Okay, I like where this is going." Y/N spoke to the camera as she buttoned her earrings into her ears, smiling as she finished, showing off her ears quickly.

"I guess we can put on a purse, hm? It's pretty raw around here." Y/N suggested as she gestured her hands across her upper body. "I like this one." The girl quickly turned around and fished one of her purses from the closet.

She turned back to the camera and showed her black Diesel shoulder bag, the brand's logo in silver, and the strap on a silver chain. The girl held the bottom of the bag with her right hand while doing jazz hands for it with her left hand, showing the piece.

Y/N put the purse on her shoulder and took some steps back to show the whole outfit for the camera, before stopping and looking at the front screen of her phone thoughtfully, analyzing her look through it.

"I think there's something missing." She murmured, placing her index finger on her chin as she thought. "I know what it is, come with me." The girl smiled, taking her cell and walking out of the closet, opening the door to her shared room with Matt slowly, entering the space.

"Hi baby, did you finished reco- Wow." Matt's voice sounded in the background, stopping mid-sentence as he analyzed his girlfriend wearing his own clothes.

"Hi baby, not yet." Y/N responded with a smirk, walking to Matt's closet, her phone camera catching the boy lying on the bed behind the girl, his own phone with an open game already forgotten next to him as his blue eyes traveled over her body.

Y/N opened the closet and ran her fingers through the caps there, taking out a completely black New Era one, with just the brand's symbol in white on the front.

She turned around, still holding her cell in her right hand, while her left hand held the chosen accessory.

"Thank you for lending it baby." Y/N said jokingly, blowing Matt an air kiss before leaving the room and heading back to her closet.

The video cut to the girl in front of the camera completely ready, right hand on her waist as her lips stretched into a smile.

"Final look!" She hummed, making a full turn before stopping again, approaching the camera. "I didn't put on makeup because we're not going out and I wanted to do a GRWM focused on Matt's clothes, but I can do a video with makeup that matches this look, I'm thinking that a red lipstick from Kylie Cosmetics that I have here would look amazing." Y/N commented, making the chief kiss gesture at the end of the sentence.

"I didn't think this outfit would look as good as it did, but it turned out super cool, and I hope you loved it as much as I did!" The girl smiled, blowing a kiss to the camera.

The video cut again, Y/N was now in her shared room with Matt again, facing her bed and with her phone in her hands, the rear camera pointed at Matt who was looking at her with a goofy smile and passionate eyes.

"From 0 to 10, how much do you give for this outfit made up entirely of your clothes? Minus the shoes." The girl asked from behind her phone.

"100/10, it looks really great, you can take all my clothes for yourself, they look much better on you than on me." The boy said, moving on the bed until he reached his girlfriend, his arms wrapping around her waist before pulling her onto the mattress.

Y/N let out a scream of surprise followed by a loud laugh, the camera becoming completely blurry due to her sudden movements.

"We're going out to dinner, I won't let you waste all this beauty." Matt spoke against the girl's lips and that was the last thing the camera recorded, before the video ended.

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Resquest:

My asks are open, feel free to send requests! ♡

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figmentof · 3 months

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now that we got confirmation that ofmd is free to be picked up, i think it's time we also direct our emailing/calling/social media efforts towards other streamers that would pick the show up instead of hbo since it seems they're not going to move forward with renewal (but don't stop bugging them. do this as well if you can!)

i'm heavily leaning towards apple tv for these two reasons:

they care about good shows with good stories and are willing to provide budget for them. their audience numbers are not always the most impressive or record breaking yet they still allow shows to tell their stories-- Foundation, Severance, For All Mankind to name a few

it's a service that is accessible both in the US and internationally. one of the biggest issues with hbo max was that a lot of international fans couldn't watch s2 of ofmd and had to wait for the show to stream on a local service and for some places ofmd never gets picked up

so here's what you can do to contact apple tv

i had to talk to three separate support reps before i got transferred over to apple tv's technical service and this is what he told me-- use the feedback link for best results as they definitely will review them and take them into consideration: https://www.apple.com/feedback/apple-tv-app/

right now it seems this is the best way for them to document what we want, i did ask for a phone number but the rep said that they'll offer numbers within the feedback form once the feedback has been submitted, so you have the option to call them to elaborate if you want!

here's a script you can use if you don't know what to say:

Hi! I'm planning on getting Apple TV because from the lineup of the shows on the service. I’ve noticed Apple TV values good, original storytelling and allow shows to finish their story without cancelling them, even ones that might be underperforming in terms of viewership. One of the biggest incentives that would make me subscribe immediately is if Apple TV picks up the show Our Flag Means Death, a critically acclaimed queer romantic comedy with a 94% rating on Rotten Tomatoes for their second season and incredible audience numbers. The show was unfortunately recently cancelled by HBO. I know Ted Lasso, a flagship show for Apple, recently ended, and I think the service would hugely benefit from another feel good, found family sort of comedy. Plus I would gladly subscribe to as would thousands of the Our Flag Means Death fanbase if we got the show on your service!

now let's get our show back!!! please reblog this post so more people can know about it 🥰

#Our Flag Means Death #ofmd #save ofmd #renew ofmd #renew as a crew

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wxshing-aep · 11 months

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The Prom Committee (pt 1)

Ethan Morales x fem!reader

based on this request:

"how about one where y/n runs an after school club so Ethan keeps getting detention on purpose to see her because he thinks “clubs are for dorks” to quote Paxton and so his reputation as the bad boy isn’t ruined"

Warnings: swearing, banter, the word boobs

AN: decided to make it a 2 parter cause it was getting long while I was writing it and wanted to give Ethan more depth of character than the actually show so part 2 coming tmrw probs!

When his assignment was handed back by Señora Diaz upside down, Ethan wasn't surprised by the big F glaring back at him in red ink when he turned the page over.

“Stupid bitch” he muttered under his breath.

“In Español, Ethan” Señora Diaz paused on her way back to the blackboard, unsure of what he said but certain that it wasn't in Spanish.

“Sorry" he retorted and she continued her route back to the front of the classroom.

"perra estúpida”

“ethan!”

That’s how Ethan ended up in detention for the umpteenth time in his academic career, tapping his pen on the desk in the nearly empty classroom with Mr. Shapiro's happy go-lucky self staring back at him.

"Well, happy to have you here Ethan!" Mr. Shapiro greets picking up a clipboard from his desk. "Not happy to be here" Ethan deadpanned. "Sorry to hear that. Not sure how you managed to get detention during the first week of school, but hey I think that might be a new Sherman Oaks record! Congrats buddy!" Mr. Shapiro cheers before realizing the younger boy is not the slightest bit amused. "Alright, tough crowd."

"Moving right along then," Mr. Shapiro clicks a pen in his hand "time to take roll!" which causes Ethan to look around the empty classroom.

"...I'm literally the only one here"

"I know, I just love checking things off lists," Mr. Shapiro clears his throats " so do I have a Morales comma Ethan?"

"seriously dude?"

"Second call for Ethan Morales"

"you're gonna keep going til I say here, aren't you?"

"You betcha!"

"Here."

"Awesome!" Mr. Shapiro marks a giant check by the one name on his attendance sheet. "god I love doing that- Alright so unfortunately I've gotta skidaddle to help out with the faculty potluck but lucky for you sir we're implementing more of a reformative detention style this year!"

"What the hell does that mean" Ethan asked.

"It means, that instead of sitting here for the next few hours, you my friend, get to offer your help to one of the after school clubs or committees that are a bit low on helping hands" Shapiro responds with finger guns. "so guess who's today's newest member of the prom committee!"

"yea, no. I'm not joining some stupid after school club. clubs are for dorks, losers, and ugly people" Ethan responds grabbing his backpack out of the chair next to him to get up and leave.

"well actually it's a committee"

"even worse"

"Alrighty well I can see what the other options-" is all Mr Shapiro gets out before he is interrupted by your voice from the doorway.

"Oh- hey! Mr. Shapiro, did you find anyone to help with the prom posters? Eric said he'd help me out but then canceled cause he said he had to train with the assistant swim coach to quote make Michael Phelps my bitch end quote. Whatever that means, so I'm kinda flying solo here" You say, drawing Ethan's attention towards you as well.

hot damn. okay maybe after school activities are not only for ugly people. He thinks you might be the prettiest girl he's ever seen and definitely takes a mental note of your outfit that's hugging you in all the right places. He quickly realizes that he doesn't know your name and has no idea how he's never been informed of your existence prior to this moment. He's snapped back to reality by Mr. Shapiro responding to your question. "Ah- I'm sorry but Ethan is-"

"super excited to help decorate for prom" Ethan finds himself blurting out before Mr. Shapiro could finish his sentence.

"Oh- well that's great! Uh Ethan just report back by 6 so I can log your hours! I'm gonna get going, you kids have fun decorating. Go crickets!" Mr. Shapiro says, making his exit as you watch him almost skip down the hall.

"Sup, I'm Ethan" Your attention is brought back to the brown eyed curly haired boy who's suddenly standing in front of you (how the hell did he cross the room that fast, you wonder) with an outstretched hand. He never really shakes hands, he just wanted an excuse to touch you. He's cute, you note mentally. You accept the offer and shake his hand. "and you are?" he continues.

"I'm-" you pause noticing those not so innocent brown eyes are directed elsewhere, "acutely aware of the fact that you're staring at my boobs".

Ethan thinks his brain might've just short circuited cause he was definitely just caught red handed. He'd recently grown a lot more confident with girls since his summer growth spurt and subsequent glow up had dramatically increased the number of girls interested in him, but there was something about you and how you so deliberately called him out that had definitely thrown him off his game.

"Sorry- I uh- I was actually looking at your shirt. They're- It's nice" he wants to die he thinks.

You chuckle at his sudden change in demeanor. "Hmm. Yea, I know they are" you respond, turning on a heel and heading toward the auditorium.

"You comin or what?"

For one person, you had made pretty okay progress in a week. The current task at hand was making posters to get people excited for the theme reveal. The ground was littered with several half finished or barely started posters.

"Can you draw?" You asked Ethan.

"I'm not much of an artist"

"Really? the graffiti on the side of the school says otherwise. Your handwriting definitely sucks though so I'll do that, but the art's good and if you can do it with a spray can, you can definitely do it with some paint and markers" your unsolicited review of his graffiti made him crack a smile. His latest act of defiance had been a giant snake comically eating a cricket accompanied with the words "get fucked" on the side of the school building.

"You can't prove that was me" he challenges.

"Maybe not, but Mr. Shapiro had mentioned that I might have a detention helper today thanks to Señora Diaz and I happened to notice the words 'stupid bitch' spray painted on her car containing the same weird ass t's as the graffiti on the side of the school and here you are, Ethan."

"Damn, you're good" he pauses realizing he can't throw your name back at you because he still doesn't know it.

"Y/n" you say quietly.

"Huh?"

"My name's y/n"

Pretty name for a pretty girl, he thought.

"Alright y/n. I'll draw as long as I don't have to to touch any glitter. that shit's impossible to get off"

"deal"

"and I don't write my t's weird"

"you write your t's like a crazy person"

Time was pretty much flying by. Together you'd gotten nearly twenty posters done and were slowly finding out more information about each other. You were informed about some of Ethan's tattoos and how he'd actually drawn the designs for all of them himself. Not an artist, my ass, you thought. Ethan learned that he hadn't met you before because you'd previously been homeschooled and had all but begged your parents to be able to go to school with other kids for your senior year until they finally cracked and agreed to enroll you at Sherman Oaks.

"Ah I see, you're a total secret weirdo. That explains your freaky detective skills" he teases.

"I am not a secret weirdo. I just like criminal minds and puzzles"

"You were homeschooled. All homeschooled kids are a little weird"

"That's an unfair stereotype"

"Whatever you say, y/n"

"If anything you're the secret weirdo. or at least an undercover art nerd"

"I'm not an undercover art nerd"

"Yea you are. Something tells me this whole" you gestured largely to him sitting a couple feet away from you, "tortured angsty hot skater boy thing you've got going on is a pretty recent development" you comment absent-mindedly. You looked back up from your poster when he didn't respond to see him sitting there, arms crossed with a smug grin on his face.

"What?" you prodded.

"You totally just called me hot"

You're now very aware that he's a bit closer to you than he was before.

"mm don't think so"

"oh you definitely did"

"did not"

"did too"

"did not" that one came out much less confidently considering his hand had made its way to your face to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. damn, he's good.

"whatever you say, y/n" he almost whispers. have his eyes been that sparkly this whole time? He's leaning in and you're definitely not backing away. You're maybe a centimeter away from his lips until the alarm blaring from your phone, which seemed like much better idea hours ago, sent you flying back from him and scared the shit out of both you.

"shit- I- god that scared me, I uh set an alarm for 6 so you'd remember to check in with Mr. Shapiro cause, ya know, I thought we'd both probably be busy. Um- busy making posters, i mean. Obviously I mean making posters cause we definitely wouldn't be busy doing anything else so-" you ramble.

The smug little smirk has made its way back onto Ethan's face as he is quite enjoying this role reversal from your first interaction of the day.

"shut up" you say to him.

"I didn't even say anything" he responded, hands in the air in surrender.

"I've gotta head home, but thanks for helping out even though you basically had to be here. If you ever find yourself in detention again this semester, feel free to help out. Hopefully the committee is more than just me by then" you say, starting to gather your belongings. Ethan secretly hopes it isn't, he likes the idea of hanging out with just you.

"I probably will find myself in detention again. It's kinda part of this whole tortured angsty hot skater boy thing I've got going on" he says throwing his backpack over his shoulder.

"not what I said" you still attempt to deny.

"sure it wasn't"

"bye ethan"

"bye y/n"

Yea, he'll definitely be finding himself in detention again.

Read Part 2 here

#never have i ever #never have i ever s4 #nhie #nhie s4 #ethan morales #ethan morales x reader #michael cimino #michael cimino x reader

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rae-writes · 11 months

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the floor is lava!

om boys x reader

*all of these are optional romantic/platonic, except for Luke (obviously)*

wc : 0.9k

a/n : a fun little surprise post <3 I might make this into a little mini series-

bsd ver. |

It was unusually quiet in the Devildom, considering there was rarely a time without some type of disturbance…

And sure enough, just when it seemed like it could finally be a normal day—

“THE FLOOR IS LAVA!”

House of Lamentation

Lucifer lets out the biggest sigh possible, poking his head out of the study to deadpan at his scrambling brothers. Despite thinking this is the stupidest thing he’s ever heard of, he doesn’t so much as blink when you barrel past him to jump onto his desk (and even lets you rest your legs in his lap as he continues working, faintly smiling when you mention he has ‘lava resistance’ so it’s okay his feet are on the floor)

Contrary to what many might think, it was not Mammon who shouted it— even so, he’s sprinting his way from the entrance hall (where he’d just arrived back home) all the way to the common room to dive onto the armchair you’re occupying. The second born is curled in your lap the entire time and might even fall asleep before the game is called off

And poor, poor Levi, in the middle of gaming but not willing to lose to this ‘stupid normie game’, drops his switch and lunges at you; it was a 50/50 chance on if you could hold him up at the sudden weight or if you’d both fall and die, but he was gonna take it (and it meant he could be in your arms)

Surprise, surprise, it was Satan who started this chaos. He’d already been comfy and situated on the library couch, happily letting you climb on top of him when you came running in. Watching everyone flail about and run around cursing was simply too good to pass up (and for the first time, it’s also Satan who’s recording everything)

Asmo has a bone to pick with whoever shouted this nonsense— he was in the middle of doing his nails! He’ll spew complaints as he clamors onto the table, though he’s quick to shut up once you throw yourself down right beside him. He has been wanting to do your nails too lately

Meanwhile, Beel was too busy chowing down in the kitchen to even hear his brother and remained oblivious until you came sliding around the corner and launching yourself in his arms. He grins at your breathless ‘hi’ and obliges when you suggest he hop up on the kitchen counter to avoid the lava

Asleep on his bed, Belphie both didn’t hear and was safe either way, and would’ve remained that way until he was woken by your screaming. He groggily gets up to see Mammon trying to drag you down onto the floor with him. It was funny the way Belphie sleepily snatched you up and walked right back in his room, slamming the door for good measure— his bed is the safest place, in his opinion

Demon King’s Castle

You bet it was Diavolo who shouted it- courtesy of Levi telling him the HoL incident- and was also the one seen sprinting through countless halls with you thrown over his shoulder, slipping around the corners (he’d taken his shoes off for fast sock travel) before he touched base in his office chair. He doesn’t think he’s had that much fun with a game in his life- and he gets you all to himself!

Simply shaking his head at Lord Diavolo’s antics, Barbatos continues with making the tea and pastries, raising a brow when you bust through the kitchen door frantically. Instead of letting you climb on the counters, he lifts you up with his tail and brings you in close, casually asking your opinion on the frosting (best. taste test. ever.)

Mephisto was dumbfounded at the sheer childlike attitude of his lord, watching him take off sprinting with an agape mouth. His attention is quickly divided when you slip into his lap, listening to you rant about how you were so not prepared for this in the slightest. He doesn’t shove you off, to your delight— in fact, he just pulls you tighter against him so you’re further away from the ‘lava’ (this was a once in a lifetime opportunity- he was not wasting it just because the game was dumb)

Purgatory Hall

Despite being human himself, Solomon had never heard of the game and decided to just let you tug him up on his spell table. He blushes faintly at the close proximity, nodding absentmindedly as you explain the rules; he doesn’t care much for it, but if it allows him to be close to you, he’d play it everyday if you wanted

Oh yeah, Luke screamed it— he thought it looked so fun when you showed him a video and had to do it with the others. He’s laughing and hollering on your back as you run past the other confused angels, cheering when you both scramble onto the dining table. He’s definitely doing this again (but maybe with the demons, who will certainly give a better reaction)

Simeon had absolutely no idea what was going on— only that you and Luke were zooming through the house and climbing onto things that should not be climbed. Before he could scold either of you, you’d hopped right over the back of the couch and ended up sprawled over his lap. He can’t bring himself to say anything other than ‘hi’ and smile at your silliness

If Simeon didn’t know what was going on, Raphael sure as hell doesn’t— “the floor isn’t…lava..?” It’s hilarious. He’s so confused, even after Luke hurriedly explains the game. He stands in place the entire time, watching, until you jump at him- and luckily his reflexes have him catching you easily. He still doesn’t know how to feel even then but he won’t put you down until you ask (please ignore the flush of his cheeks)

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babyleostuff · 5 months

Text

SHADOW

・❥・ for the 2k followers event

summary: you don't know when the universe factory had become your safe place, but woozi always made sure to comfort you in every way he could - even if it meant he had to spoil his new song

pairing: idol!woozi x fem!reader

genre: fluff, a bit of angst, comfort | word count: 2k

To say that you had a bad day would be an understatement. The morning was actually perfect - you woke up next to your boyfriend, as he didn’t have to rush to the studio early in the morning (finally), you ate breakfast together, you even managed to make him some snacks for work.

But as the day passed, it seemed like the universe wanted you to fail on every step that you made. Nothing major really happened, it was just a series of unfortunate events, but it was enough to make you cry out of frustration in the middle of the street on your way home.

It didn’t help that it was pouring, and you couldn’t see two metres in front of you, let alone the bus that drove over the puddle, drenching you in the dirty water.

“It’s time to use my girlfriend privilege card,” you thought, as you pulled your jacket tighter around yourself (not that it helped much). You knew Woozi was still at the Universe Factory, because let’s be real - when was he not, especially now as he and the boys were preparing for a comeback. The problem was you didn’t want to be too clingy, you knew he had work to do, songs to record, lyrics to write, and the last thing you wanted was to burden him with your silly little problems.

As if your boyfriend could read your mind, you heard a ping coming from your phone a second later.

WOOZI 🍚 are you home?

You sighed, rain drenching your screen, because… Should you lie to him? You didn’t want to make him worry, but then again - lying wasn’t the smartest option.

YOU 💎 not exactly WOOZI 🍚 ??? YOU 💎 can i come over? YOU 💎 if you’re busy it’s okay! WOOZI 🍚 stop being dramatic, you know you’re always welcome here WOOZI 🍚 now get your ass over here

You smiled at your phone. You could practically hear your boyfriend’s scolding voice and see the roll of his eyes. He was always like that when you tried to reassure him that you were okay, when in fact you were not.

That was just one of the many things you loved about him.

[...]

knock knock knock

You swiped your wet hair strands off your forehead, droplets of water running down your cheeks, and under the collar of your coat. You wouldn’t be surprised if you’d end up with a cold tomorrow, but hey - at least you’d get to stay home.

The music behind the door was playing loud enough that Woozi probably didn't hear you knocking. He probably had his earphones on too, so you slowly opened the door, letting yourself in. A wave of warm air hit you as soon as you entered the room and you sighed in relief because you’d get to take off your soaked clothes. Maybe you could even convince Woozi to give you his hoodie, which would be perfect.

Quickly taking off your shoes and hanging up your jacket, you pulled the sleeves of your shirt over your hands to warm up a bit, and went to look around the studio for your boyfriend. To no surprise, Woozi was sitting in front of his computer, papers scattered around him, making a mess on the desk, earphones on his head, while he was clearly occupied with something on the screen.

You smiled and pulled out your phone, sending him a quick message “I’m here”. The second his phone lit up with a notification, your boyfriend picked it up and pulled the headphones off his head, and you just knew his brows were furrowed in confusion.

“Turn around,” you giggled, crossing your arms over your chest. His head snapped towards you in surprise. You weren't planning on scaring him, but maybe you should do it more often because he looked adorable with his wide eyes and a slight pout. “You almost gave me a heart attack,” he sighed and shook his head in disapproval, his long hair falling over his forehead.

“Sorry,” you muttered, although both of you knew you weren’t.

For a moment, you just stared at each other as if you hadn't seen each other in a week, absorbing each other's presence as the music continued to play from his speakers. Woozi, however, quickly noticed how you were shaking, and his face immediately turned slightly worried.

"Everything's okay?" He asked. “Not really,” you shook your head, as all of the bad memories and frustrations of that day suddenly came back to you.

“C’mere, let me hold you,” he extended his hand to you, putting the headphones down on the desk. You padded over to him, grabbing him tightly.

That was almost like a little routine in your relationship - when you needed something to hold onto during difficult days, you could always count on Woozi to be your pillar, making sure you never fell, no matter how hard it was.

And that was exactly what you needed right now, to cling to him and trust that he would help you get rid of the terrible thoughts.

He moved the chair further away from the desk so you could sit on his lap, your back against his chest and his arms wrapped tightly around your waist. “Tsk, I think I need to buy you some kind of raincoat if you like walking in the rain so much,” he scolded you, feeling your wet clothes.

“Honestly, I don’t care anymore. I just want this day to end,” you muttered, grabbing his hand that was holding your waist.

“You want to talk about it?” Woozi asked, settling his chin on your shoulder. That was another thing you loved about him. He never made you talk about your problems, never tried to find a solution just to make you feel better, never pushed you to do anything - he always let you take your time and decide on your own if you needed his advice or just a hug.

You shook your head. There was no point in dwelling on the past.

“What are you working on?” You looked at the screen filled with different music softwares. You’d never fathom how he was able to switch between them so easily, knowing exactly what each and every of them did. “Nothing much. We needed to change one of the lyrics for the album, but I got stuck, so,” he sighed, from what you gathered he really was struggling with it. “I just started making a beat and recorded some lyrics to pass some time.”

“Can I listen to it?”

He hesitated for a second, before clicking on one of the open windows on his screen, rewinding the song to the beginning. “It’s nothing much, I made it in like an hour so don’t get your hopes up.”

“You know I love all of your songs, honey,” you turned your head to place a kiss on his cheek, but that was the truth. Even if he insisted he made a song just for “fun”, you loved each and every single one of them.

From the first seconds you knew you’d absolutely adore the song. You could feel it was going to be some kind of ballad, which had to be your favourite genre of songs that your boyfriend made. He had this ability to make every sentence meaningful and so deep that you could feel it move your heart, no matter how good you were at hiding your emotions.

I didn't want the hot sun to rise too far away I hate everything in the shade on the other side of the light He follows me every step, my eyes are always there I hated seeing myself run away

You closed your eyes, melting into Woozi’s embrace. The lyrics were already so painfully beautiful, and it just showed how great of a writer your boyfriend was.

Shadow, my shadow, my shadow I don't want others to see you Shadow, my shadow, my shadow I hated you and hurt you

Woozi was a master of making songs that most people could relate to, and sometimes you hated him so much for it, because most of the time you just wanted to bawl your eyes out. You almost had a fight when you heard For you for the first time.

I ran to run away from you I hid in a place where was no light

Sensing how stiff he was behind you, you pulled his arm tighter around your waist, rubbing your thumb over his hand. Woozi could insist as much as he wanted that he made this just because he was bored, but you knew the lyrics meant a lot to him. You could hear the vulnerability in his voice, and in the lyrics.

Stay with me, no matter in what moment Let's become the same light, the same shadow In whatever place, I'll hold you

You smiled at how the lyrics seemed to get more hopeful as the song was nearing its end. You weren’t sure if it was because you had this awful day, but hearing that brought you some sense of comfort.

Because even my darkness will shine brightly Baby I'm a shadow of you

As the song finished, and the studio went silent except for the pouring rain, you took a second to collect your thoughts, your brain blown at how your boyfriend could make something that beautiful in just an hour.

“As I said,” Woozi murmured, his breath tickling your neck. “It’s not that good.”

His brows furrowed as you pulled away from him, standing up, just to straddle him a second later. “Listen to me you little shit,” you took his face in your hands, as you had to suppress a giggle because of his offended expression. “That song was a fucking masterpiece, and I know I say that everytime, but I mean it,” you looked at him, your tone serious. “Do you have any idea how amazing it was?”

Your boyfriend had a sceptic look on his face, it didn’t seem that he believed you. “You might not realise this, but the lyrics, the way you wrote about hiding your emotions and insecurities from the world, and how everything reminds us of the struggles, but that at the end of the day we learn and accept them, learning how to live with them…” you sighed, you eyes teary. “It means so much to me, and I’m sure it’d mean a lot to other people too. Sometimes we just need to be reminded that it’s okay to be scared of our feelings, but that they shouldn’t stop us from living our lives.”

With every word you could see Woozi’s face softening, as if he started to understand how much it actually meant to you. “You got all of that from just listening to it once?”

“Lee Jihoon, I’m being serious here,” you smacked his shoulder, although you were sure he didn’t even feel it. “Show this to the boys, baby. It’s too good to be hidden on your computer forever.”

He nodded, running his hand through your hair. “Thank you.”

“For what?” You tilted your head, looking at him in surprise. You should be the one thanking him for letting you come here and interrupt his work and for letting you listen to his song. “For being here with me. For always believing in me.”

You felt tears forming in your eyes because it wasn’t often that Woozi was so open with you about his feelings. He always expressed them through actions, or songs, and hearing those words moved you more than they should have.

You sniffled, bringing his face closer to yours, and pecked his lips sweetly. “I will always believe in you. No matter what.” He smiled against your lips, kissing you again, as he held your face between his hands, like you were the most precious thing in the world.

And just like that you forgot about all of the bad things that happened earlier.

Now it was only you, Woozi, and your shadows.

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biblio-smia · 6 months

Text

part one | part two | part three

every piece of you wants to stay, especially as abby looks up at you with big eyes and pouty lips, her small fingers holding onto yours like a lifeline.

"i'm sorry, sweetheart. tonight's not a good night."

abby gives you a heartbreaking look but she lets you go, sputtering out a reluctant, "okay."

there's a different look on mike's face (though you suspect it's in a similar strain) but you offer him a smile and a soft kiss on the cheek before he steps back inside and shuts the door behind you.

though regret settles in his chest quickly and only intensifies with each unanswered ring of the phone as he tries to calls max. mike groans as he hangs up the phone, glancing at abby with the realization that he's out of options. abby catches on, too, a glint in her eye as she smiles.

"i will work, and you will sleep..."

it's almost 7 pm. usually, you'd be eating dinner by now. before your few days of solitude, you'd be laughing and talking with abby while you did. now, for the past half-hour, you'd been standing in the door frame of your kitchen, trying to decide whether or not you should eat by yourself or drive over to mike's.

the landline ringing pulls you away from contemplating the very difficult decision.

"hello?"

"hey," mike's voice greets you and you feel your heart flutter. "are you busy tonight?"

you lean against the wall, twirling the phone's cord around your finger. "hmmm, i don't know. are you asking me out?"

mike is quiet for a moment, shocked silence - he'd almost forgotten how easily you make him blush. "not tonight, baby, i'm sorry."

you can hear the smile in his voice and you can't seem to frown.

"no, it's something more... serious. can you come over? it'll be easier to explain."

"give me ten minutes."

mike groans. "ten minutes too long."

you laugh, giving him a sweet bye before hanging up, picking up your keys and giving your kitchen a quick glance. really, at this point you should just move in.

you've barely arrived on mike's doorstep when the door swings open. you're in mike's arms before you can say anything, your arms wrapping around him like it was a natural instinct. mike's face presses into your neck, intoxicating himself with your scent. your presence is a comfort and your arms give mike the sense of safety he's been chasing for years.

mike sighs into your shoulder and you pull away to press a kiss on his cheek.

"something's wrong?" you guess.

mike nods, his arms pulling you close again for just a few more seconds before letting you go (not completely, though - his hand finds yours instantly).

abby's in her room and mike drags you into his. you take a seat on his twin size bed and he follows, making a dip in the mattress that makes your legs press against each other.

there's a book and a tape recorder on mike's bedside table. your eyes wander to the space above mike's bed, where something previously taped has been ripped off.

okay, it hasn't been that long since you'd been in here...

"okay," you nod, ready to listen to whatever it is mike has to say. you're patient as he hesitates, only momentarily, before he finally tells you a few very important details he'd left out from your last conversation. like how he's been reliving his childhood trauma for the past month or so.

you really try not to be upset. you hear the desperation in mike's voice as he tells you that dream... whatever-ing at freddy's has gotten him closer than ever to figuring it all out, finally. his hands shake as he pulls out a folded up paper from his back pocket. you could recognize abby's art from anywhere.

"and look! i... i don't know how, but they're connected, somehow. the kids- they posses the robots and they can talk to abby! they told her about garrett. they know something."

"mike." your hands are on his, urging him to slow down.

"look, i know it sounds crazy." mike's gaze is serious as he looks into your eyes, pleading for you to not think he was a total nut case. "i want you to come with us tonight."

"mike-"

"no, i'm serious. you can see for yourself." and mike is looking at you so desperately.

you sigh. "okay."

mike looks like he’s still ready to convince you, not expecting you to agree so easily.

and then his hands are on your face and he’s kissing you like his life depends on it.

“i seriously-” mike says breathlessly between kisses. “don’t know what i did in a past life to deserve you, but you are… amazing.”

and so you keep your grievances to yourself. you’re really not sure if you’ve gone one step forward or taken two steps back but mike is pulling you into the kitchen to have some of the soup he’s made and there’s really no time to gather your thoughts.

but there is time for the worry you've been feeling for mike to come back tenfold.

abby is somehow more excited than mike to hear that you’ll be tagging along tonight, jumping up and down and thanking you as if you’d just told her she'd won the lottery.

she’s still buzzing in the car and mike’s hand stays steady on yours as he drives. his face is grim as he looks ahead, his eyes occasionally rising to glance at abby and falling on you at a red light (mike would've completely missed the light turning green if it weren't for your hand squeezing his).

but that feeling in your chest only grows and it's starting to make you feel sick. you’re really not sure what you’ve just agreed to.

mike pulls into the front of freddy’s, parking line long since faded. it’s your first time, but even you can point out the cop car not quite fitting in with the rest of the picture.

“vanessa’s here,” abby comments.

"yeah," mike nods, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

"my friends talk about her sometimes," abby begins softly as you come up beside her, taking her hand.

"really?" you ask curiously. "what do they say?"

"that she's nice."

"abby," mike starts with a huff. "if i asked you to wait in the car, would you?"

"no." abby smiles before turning to you. "come on!" if her legs weren't so small, you're sure she would've lost you as she dragged you along.

"abby, wait!" mike calls uselessly.

"guys, i'm back!" abby announces as soon as she enters the large party room. "and i brought someone special!"

"abby."

"hey, vanessa!" abby is unstoppable, pulling you until you're on stage, right in front of her... friends.

"abby!"

you're frozen, standing there as you watch the giant mascots come to life, seemingly without anyone controlling them. they tower over you, large bodies whirring as they turn towards you. their expressions were limited, but you could tell by the way their eyebrows pointed and their mechanical eyes squinted that they did not like you.

"guys, it's okay!" abby assures before leaning in to whisper something. she giggles, and the animatronics... relax, returning to their normal expressions.

"okay, that's seriously freaky," you admit under your breath, watching as abby smiles and laughs with the mascots.

you stay by abby's side, reaching out to wrap a protective arm around her, eyes never letting any of the animatronics out of your sight.

there's a tug on your sweater and a look in abby's eyes you know too well.

abby presents to you, mike, and vanessa a rough blueprint for a fort made entirely by crayon. when abby reveals that she wants to build a fort for all of you, including the animatronics, you can't help but give her a look.

she doesn't seem to notice, caught up in all the excitement, but you catch mike's eyes and know he's sharing your sentiments.

"abby, look," mike starts, hand on abby's shoulder. "now, this is all really fun and exciting, but these things are big, and they could be dangerous, so i think we need to lay some ground rules, all right?"

"we're gonna watch our fingers and our feet," you add warmly.

"vanessa, what do you think?"

it's quiet as the two of you look up at her - mike has told you that vanessa knows a lot about freddy's (though he suspects she knows more).

"i think we could use the tables for the fort." vanessa smiles at abby, hanging back as abby runs off. mike's eyebrows furrow in confusion, but vanessa only throws him a triumphant look before joining abby.

"everyone, follow me! come on."

it's definitely a unique experience, building a fort with animatronics possessed by dead children. but they lift and build alongside you and soon enough, they're more endearing than terrifying.

you catch vanessa trying to bring a table over by herself, quickly placing yourself on the other end and helping her lift.

"thanks," she says quietly, tight smile over her lips. "so, you and mike...?"

"together," you confirm with a nod. "for a while." there's a bit of awkward silence and you really can't tell if there's something you have to clear. "if you were interested-"

vanessa laughs, but you don't give her a chance to confirm or deny.

"-he's pretty... clueless when it comes to those things." you offer a smile and vanessa shakes her head, mouth open to say something when a stray chair catches your eye.

"hey, careful," you stop abruptly before vanessa can trip. she looks to her right and kicks the chair away with her leg.

"thanks," she smiles.

"yeah." you smile right back.

"okay, they're kind of cute," you quietly admit to mike after bonnie's little fall.

"seriously? you too?" mike frowns and you can't hide your laugh.

"what? i'm just saying, i get why abby likes them so much."

mike shakes his head, disbelief in his face as abby waves the two of you over.

"i mean... they're still just kids, right?" you whisper to mike, voice holding a hint of sadness that you try to shake off, tugging mike along to congratulate abby on her genius engineering.

"i like it in here," vanessa calls from her spot on the other side of bonnie.

"me, too," you admit, fingers lightly interlaced with mike's.

"me, three," abby grins. "but... i think it's gonna rain soon."

"sounds like we need a roof," vanessa smiles as she sits up and you can't help but appreciate how she got along with abby. "i'll go see what i can find."

"we'll, uh... we'll come with you," mike calls, pulling you up from your spot so suddenly you almost fall on bonnie. "sorry!" you whisper, patting his arm gently.

"yeah, i take it back, this place is creepy again." you shudder as you enter the storage room.

"what are you looking for, exactly?" mike inquires as vanessa begins digging through a bunch of boxes.

"tablecloths!" she responds like it's obvious. "they used to keep 'em back here for big events."

"right. and remind me how you know that?"

"mike." you warn.

but vanessa won't answer the question and you can feel you start to suspect her knowledge of the place, too.

"found 'em." vanessa smiles as she begins digging into a box and pulling out some fabric.

"god, what is that thing?" your gaze lands on a very creepy looking piece of metal slouched in the corner.

"one of the older models," vanessa comments casually. you stare at her, watching her fold the fabric to make it manageable, barely even glancing over. no, that definitely wasn't common knowledge.

"don't!" vanessa's urgency makes you jump, your head turning to see mike almost stick his hand somewhere it definitely didn't belong. "i wouldn't do that. they're spring locks. they're on all the older ones. they were designed to keep the animatronic parts in place, so that, uh, a person could safely wear the suit. they tend to be pretty unstable. let's see..."

vanessa picks up a broom to demonstrate, sticking it right where mike's arm would've been.

the metal snapped it in a split second. the visual makes you and mike both cringe.

"like i said. unstable."

"is there anything else you'd like to tell us about, vanessa? cause you seem to know everything about this place." mike's words throw no direct accusations, but his tone does. "and what'd if abby'd come in here? what if she'd found that thing?" mike's voice rises and he's on vanessa's tail, forcing you to follow.

"you're the one who brought her here, mike, not me," vanessa spins around. "what i can't wrap my head around is why."

and mike has no choice but to share what he'd told you earlier. e sighs, glancing at you as he begins his confession.

"all right, look. i think that they know who took my little brother. i can't explain it, but when i'm here, i feel closer to garrett. my dreams are more vivid, and it... it's like i can almost..."

"change what happened?" vanessa offers and you're positive she knows something. not even you reacted this calmly.

mike nods.

"did you ask them about this?"

"yeah, i tried. i don't think they like me very much. but... they do like abby."

and that's when it all clicks. you remember your phone call with abby, how mike refused to take her with him. how something about that conversation with mike hadn't sat right. you'd thought it been the whole dead children possessing giant robots then, but you realize what it is now.

"so that's what this entire thing is about? using abby to solve this?" your arms cross now, eyebrows furrowing as you turn to mike.

"okay, i'm not using her, i just asked her to ask them-"

"mike, you said yourself this place is dangerous-"

"yeah, and we're watching her."

a silence settles on the three of you as you realize that, no, you aren't.

you lead the way as the three of you pick up the pace on your way out of the storage room, vanessa and mike picking up their discussion.

"mike. you need to drop this."

"i don't really see how that's any of your business."

"i'm tellling you, you need to let it go."

"who the hell are you?"

"just someone who's trying to help."

you burst out of the dark storage room, eyes trying to find abby in the dim light.

"abby!" you cry, watching her get closer to bonnie - a hand coming up to string his guitar.

"wait, abby, don't!" vanessa cries, but all of you are too late.

sparks fly and abby's on her back, unresponsive when you get to her.

"abby? abby!"

her eyes finally open as she coughs and you breathe a sigh of relief.

"what happened?"

"it's okay, abby. you just had an accident. you're okay." vanessa pulls abby up into a hug - away from you and mike and you watch as his face falls. "i'm so sorry."

vanessa helps abby up and you take abby's hand. "alright, princess, we're gonna get you home."

you have a feeling the argument between them isn't over, so you open up the backseat for abby and get in with her, letting her wrap her arms around one of you and use you as a pillow.

you were right - it wasn't over. though it really wasn't an argument as it was mike getting yelled at and it makes you guiltily reminiscent.

but you don't move into the passenger seat even as mike gets it, already letting him know you're gonna have your own talk once you get home.

"she looked so angry," abby comments tiredly, her head resting against you as you soothingly run your fingers through her hair. "why does everyone always look at you that way?"

mike sighs quietly and you swallow thickly. "let's try to get some sleep, abs." you say quietly, a hand coming up to rub her shoulder.

really, all you did was blink. your eyes flutter open and see the sun has risen during the short drive from freddy's. you're warm, whether it's from the sun's rays or mike's gentle hand on your leg. you're still half-asleep, not really hearing what he's saying, only able to notice how beautiful he looks with the sun shining on him like that.

you almost forget you're upset with him.

mike carries abby in and you let him tuck her into bed (something tells you he needs it more than you do). your feet quietly drag on the carpet, turning into mike's room and pulling on something cozier (and that doesn't have the dingy, lingering scent of freddy's).

you're lingering in mike's door frame, only a few feet away as mike exits abby's room and closes the door quietly. your arms are crossed and you might be frowning as mike bites his lip. you know he knows. you don't trust yourself to even sit on mike's bed, the temptation almost impossible to resist even out of the corner of your eye, so you make your way down the hall to the dining room and mike wishes he could watch you walk around in his clothes under different circumstances.

you sit in the sunlight, silently, and mike thinks he'd rather you yell at him than this. he picks at his cuticles, ripping at a hangnail until it's gone, a little red spot slowly taking its place.

birds chirp brightly outside as you gather your thoughts. you don't want this to be like last time and you're trying really hard to be patient with mike. you can't imagine what it's like to lose a sibling, but he could've lost another last night. wasn't that enough to snap him into reality?

"mike," you begin and mike hopes he never hears you say his name like that again. "i would never ask you to let something like this go," and mike sighs at the familiar request. "but it's becoming... too much."

mike looks up at you now, eyebrows furrowed, ready to be angry. "'too much?' what does that mean, 'too much?'"

you're careful with your next words, taking mike's hand softly, reminding him that you do love him.

"i mean, we got lucky. abby... abby could've gotten seriously hurt."

"okay, it wasn't like i forced her, she wanted to go."

"and you were against it until you realized those... things liked her!"

mike pulls back, his jaws clenched.

"you don't understand."

"so help me, mike. help me understand, because i'm really trying to."

"finding the man who took garrett is the only thing that matters to me!"

"so abby doesn't matter?" and mike falters. "i don't matter?"

mike's heart churns and his head drops. "that's not what i..."

"yeah," you sigh, crossing your arms. it's quiet again and mike can't manage to look at you.

"mike," there it is again. "this is becoming an obsession."

mike scoffs. "it's not-"

"yes, it is! tell me mike, how many nights have you been going there for the past... month?"

mike can't answer. he truly doesn't know. he's still trying to think of a response when your hands are on his face, forcing his eyes to look at you. your fingers sweep over the bags that have taken the spot under his eyes for a while now, wishing you could rub away the dark hues. you thumb over the hair on mike's face - he hasn't shaven in a while, but he hasn't taken care of himself in longer.

"you haven't been yourself, mike. this was the problem the first time. i'm just.. worried, alright?"

mike's heart sinks as he starts to see all of the stress on your face, too. your tired eyes and the small frown on your face. something in him aches and he regrets ever dragging you into this.

your eyes catch the time and you sigh as your hands drop mike's face.

"i have to get to work."

"w... work?" mike stammers. why would you agree to tag along if you had work in the morning?

"call me if you need anything. please." you press a kiss to mike's cheek before taking off, leaving mike to sit there in silence.

he sighs, rubbing his eyes. his body is exhausted but he can't rest. not until it's finished.

"hey, it's mike. i need your help."

that night, you linger in the living room. mike hasn't called, but you just can't shake the feeling that something's not right. you take a seat on the couch, that awful sense of dread in your stomach keeping you from doing anything else.

you're not sure when the exhaustion catches up, but when you wake up it's dark outside and you're not sure if the ringing you heard was just in your head.

and then your answer machine begins to play a bright voice you could recognize anywhere.

"my friend's taking me to freddy's! i don't know where mike went but i'm mad at him... what? okay! i have to go-"

the message ends abruptly and your hands feel clammy as you replay it.

it takes a few more minutes and more than a few deep breaths before you race to your car, fingers fumbling as you get in and hit the gas.

something's wrong. you can feel it.

you're barely in the parking lot of freddy's before you're out of your car, panting and having no idea how you'd made it without getting pulled over.

you approach the entrance and consider yelling out mike and abby's names on the off chance they'll pop out and assure you everything's okay. but before you can get too close, a figure is running out towards you, pulling you towards the side of the building and out of sight of the cameras.

"vanessa?" you're surprised to see her outside of her uniform, holding something that looks dangerous and with a frantic look in her eyes. "vanessa, what's wrong?"

her eyes fall on you as she tries to even out her heavy breathing and she looks wild.

"they've got abby."

"w... what do you mean? they like her, right? they won't hurt her?"

vanessa shakes her head quickly, her eyes teary and her voice quivering. "mike, he..."

"vanessa, please."

"they want to make her like them."

your heart's in your throat as you follow vanessa through the vents, dust and anxiety making it hard to breathe. you feel like you're going to be sick and you would push vanessa if you weren't sure that she was going as fast as she could. the vent cover is already off, making it easier for the two of you make it to the party room. bonnie and freddy are down on the stage, but you and vanessa are crouched and quiet, trying to listen for where abby could be over the sound of your own heart pounding.

foxy doesn't notice as you come up behind him and vanessa electrocutes him, your arms immediately fishing for abby as she screams.

"it's okay," you assure quietly, pulling abby in tightly, the relief you feel so intense tears almost slip out of your eyes. "you're okay."

"foxy!" abby calls out as she backs out of your arms, eyes sad for her friend.

"we're gonna get you somewhere safe so we can go help your brother, okay?" vanessa says worriedly, eyes checking over abby as her hand rubs her shoulder. her eyes fall on you and you nod, picking abby up and listening to vanessa's directions towards somewhere safe.

though there's not much you can do but chase after abby once she spots her brother on the floor, unconscious. you're on your hands and knees, eyelashes fluttering hazily, not quite able to process seeing your boyfriend bloodied and bruised. not quite able to fathom what it'll mean if he doesn't wake up. abby's screams don't quite reach your ears as her small hands try to shake him awake.

"mike, please." you don't even recognize the sound of your own voice, so desperate and shaky.

at last, mike stirs, weakly twisting onto his forearms.

"the drawings," he chokes out. "the yellow rabbit hurt your friends. show them what really happened."

mike's weight is on you as the two of you stumble through the dank hallways, lights flickering and mike panting. "here, here," mike directs and you pull him into a control room. mike stumbles as he reaches for a box, steadying himself against the dusty wall as he grunts, flipping the switch from off to on. you're not sure what it does but your arm is around mike again, pulling him out of the room as quickly as you'd gotten in.

there's a layer of sweat on your face as you push past a door, the last door that finally leads you back to abby.

she calls your names as she runs over, away from the man who's been behind it all. you let mike catch his breath for a second as you pull abby close, the three of you watching as the yellow rabbit is finally punished.

lights begin to fall, shattering the instant they hit the ground.

"alright, we gotta go." you scoop abby up, mike using you as support as you try to navigate your way out safely. you bite back a gasp once you see vanessa on the ground, pale and unresponsive.

"okay, okay." you set abby down and you and mike crouch down to each sling one of vanessa's arms over your necks. mike stumbles, almost falling as he tries to stand and your face tightens with worry.

"hold my hand," you instruct abby. "hold tight. don't let go."

the animatronics are dragging the yellow rabbit somewhere, but you can't spare any attention, focusing on not dropping vanessa and making sure mike is still upright. you're almost at the exit when the ceiling starts to come down, your own panting mixing with mike's pained grunts as the four of you finally make it outside.

"abby, i need you to open up the car for me, okay?"

abby nods and grabs your keys, running up ahead to click the button on your keys. the lights blink and she opens up the back for you and mike to sit vanessa in. you strip yourself of your sweater, laying it over vanessa as abby climbs into the opposite side. "hold her tight, alright?" abby nods, clicking her seat belt before holding onto vanessa's arm. good girl.

you help mike into the passenger seat, kissing the top of his head as he continues breathing irregularly, holding his side and gasping.

you're not the best example for abby as you skip your seat belt, shoving your keys into the ignition and turning them quickly. you peel out of freddy's, trying to remember the quickest route to the hospital. you're way over the speed limit, but not an ounce of you cares.

"keep putting pressure on it," you manage out, hands sweaty against your steering wheel. mike holds himself steady against your dashboard and your eyes constantly bounce between the road and mike, so distracted you almost drive on the curb as you pull into the hospital. it's okay, it's okay, you repeat to yourself as you head straight for the emergency room.

it'll be okay.

mike is cleared first. it's been a few hours and abby's asleep in the chair next to yours. the pounding of your heart kept you awake, tired eyes waiting expectantly each time a staff entered the waiting room.

finally, someone called you over.

"he's awake," the lady with the clipboard says with a smile and you gently shake abby awake. she's still half-asleep as the two of you are led to one of the hospital rooms, bright daylight shining in from the window making your eyes hurt.

but then you spot mike, raised up in his bed and awake and breathing and the weight on your shoulders is gone.

"mike!" abby cries happily, running over to throw her arms around her brother.

"careful, abs," you say softly, though you're barely containing your own excitement.

"no, no, it's okay. i can barely feel a thing," mike assures, pulling abby up into a tight hug.

you come up behind her, the tears you've been holding for hours finally finding their way out, relieving some of the pressure in your chest.

"hey, come here," mike says softly, his arms, still so strong, pulling you close. abby digs her way in again, head resting against your back until you pull her in, too. "i'm okay," mike whispers just before you all let go.

"yeah," you nod, wiping your face before abby can see. "you're okay."

the ride back home is exciting, the three of you making a stop for abby's favorite fast food before you make it home. abby is reluctant to let go of mike as you all trudge in, but her little eyes are closing and she'll wake up with a sore neck if she falls asleep on the couch.

you go straight for mike once she's tucked in. you're pressing him against the wall as you kiss him, careful not to hit any of the bruises on his face. there's no argument from him as his hands find your hips, his thumbs pressing softly into your skin. the both of you are trying to articulate your feelings through the desperate kisses you share, lips swollen and breathing heavy by the time you're finished.

but mike's had something on his chest for a while now, too.

"you were right," he breaths out, chest still heaving from the kisses. "about everything. i was stuck in the past and i wasn't focusing on what was right in front of me," mike's hands are on your face now, making sure you're looking at him (as if you could tear yourself away). "you and abby are the most important things in the world. and i... i love you."

your eyes are wide as you glance from one of mike's big brown eyes to the other, watching him watch you desperately. his eyes stay steady on yours, his fingers slowly thumbing over your face.

"i love you," he whispers again, reveling in the feeling of the phrase slipping off his tongue. "i love you." one more time, just for good measure.

and then you're grinning so wide, your face suddenly warm under mike's hand. your hands are on his, pushing them a little to catch mike in a kiss, completely different than before - this one's slow, the two of you dragging it out as long as you can, each trying to engrave the other in their memory.

but that's not where you want to live. so you pull away and cup mike's face in your hands, forcing him to be present with you again.

"i love you, you idiot. and i'm gonna make sure you know it every single day."

mike nods as he buries his face in your shoulder. he thinks he's crying and you might be, too. there's so many words he wants to say, but he can't quite figure out how to string them together. there's promises to for him to make and to see through, but for now, mike settles on one phrase, repeated into the material of your shirt. he's not even positive you can hear him, but he knows you know.

"i love you. i love you. i love you..."

final part!!! yay!!! i'm still not sure what to call this little mini-series, so let me know :p. & if you want any bonus content for them... requests are open! <333

(also, i am ignoring aunt jane because i have NO IDEA what happened to her in the movie)

#mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt fluff #mike schmidt angst #fnaf x reader #fnaf #fnaf movie #five nights at freddy's #v + mike #v writes

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sugarnspice630 · 8 months

Text

Radio Head - Hongjoong

"Your voice is like a siren. You’re just so smart and beautiful. You drive me insane with how talented you are.”

•pairing: hongjoong x afab!reader

•word count: 1.6k

•tags: mdni, smut, reader is a vocalist, Hongjoong is definitely a Simp for reader, cunnilingus, praise kink, oral (f receiving), producer hongjoong, recording booth sex, Hongjoong asks for consent (💕), moaning sample for music (👀), cum eating, aftercare

Summary: Helping Hongjoong produce a song by providing some backing vocals and he gets desperate so he meets you in the recording booth and services you, and surprises you at the end with something unexpected.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆───

Hongjoong was working late in the studio one night and you decided to tag along with him. One, so he wouldn’t be lonely and two, because you wanted to hang out with him and help him if needed. You were chilling on the little couch that was in the corner of the studio, playing on your phone, listening to Hongjoong working away at the new songs he was producing. He would occasionally mutter a curse word under his breath, a sign that he was getting irritated by the song not sounding the way he wanted.

“Fuck…this just isn’t working.” he sighed out. You placed your phone down and walked over to him to reassure him. Placing your hands softly on his shoulders and rubbing them gently as his head rested on the desk in between his arms.

“There there love. I’m sure you’ll get it eventually. You always do.”

“It just sounds empty! Here..take a listen.” He shoots his head up and drags the song back to the beginning and presses play. You listen to the song closely, trying to figure out what Hongjoong thinks is missing from the song. The members have already come in and did rough vocal guides so there were melodies to also pay attention to. After a few more seconds, Hongjoong pauses the track.

“See what I mean? It’s just empty! There is nothing in this that screams original! It sounds like every other song under the sun.” He throws his hands towards the screen before resting his left arm on the desk and placing his head on his hand.

“I’m not quite the producer like you baby, but I think I might have a suggestion, if you wouldn’t mind me sharing.”

“Please do. I’m all ears at this point.” You take the mouse and drag it back to the part of the song you think needs some work.

“I feel like at this part here, it should have something subtle in the background, like *laaa la la laaaa*. Just to fill this part where Yunho and Wooyoung are harmonizing, and that melody could repeat throughout the bridge.” You watch as Hongjoong’s eyes light up at your suggestion.

“Y-yes! Y/N that’s perfect!” He takes the mouse back from you and goes back to the start of the part you are fixing. “Um, if you don’t mind, I’d like you to record this part.” his hand motions towards the recording booth,

“Joongie, a-are you sure? I don’t think that would be right.” you shake your hands in front of you, signaling that you would feel bad for recording lines when you are not a member of the group.

“Yes I’m sure. You have a similar vocal tone to Jongho, so the fans will never know. I promise.” he reassures you with a smile and you softly nod your head before making your way to the recording booth. You open the door, close it softly, and pick up the headphones hanging from the mic stand. You put your hair behind your ears and rest the headphones over top. Hongjoong begins to talk to you through the headphones.

“You ready love?” You look over to him through the glass window and give him a thumbs up. He looks down at the mixing table and presses a button. You begin to hear the couple seconds before the spot you are recording for playing through the headphones. You take a deep breath and put your heart into singing the notes perfectly for him. You try a couple different takes to the beat of the song to give him some different options to play with. After a bit, the song changed parts and you stopped vocalizing for him. You side eyed over to the window to see his reaction and noticed Hongjoong wasn’t sitting at the desk anymore. Your eyebrows contorted as you were puzzled on where he went. Your eyes lead back to the microphone and you see Hongjoong standing directly in front of you, his eyes meeting yours and there is a certain glint in his eye. Before you could say anything, he ripped the headphones off of your head and pressed his lips into your’s. You whimpered softly at the impact and he wrapped his arms around you, pushing you into the wall that was behind you. His hands caressing all over you and his lips grazing across your skin.

“H-Hongjoong?” you breathe out confused.

“I just couldn’t help myself love, Your voice is like a siren. You’re just so smart and beautiful. You drive me insane with how talented you are.” he purred against your skin.

“I-I don’t understand what I did”

“Shh, relax baby, just let me treat you right now. I need you so badly. You’ll be a good girl and do that for me, right~?” he softly placed his finger over your lips and traced it down to your chin, tilting your head up softly to look him in the eyes.

“Y-yes.” is all you can manage to get out. You’re at a loss for words right now. This emotion came out of nowhere and your heart is racing like crazy. He traces his hands down your body as he slowly squats down to the floor in front of you. His hands stop at the top of your pants and he looks up at you softly.

“May I~?” he questions with a slight smirk on his face. You look down at him and nod, resting your head on the wall you’re pressed against. You feel Hongjoong tug at your waistband and pull your pants down to your ankles, allowing him full access to your lower body.

“You’re so good for me baby, you know that~?” he whispers against the skin on your legs and gently kisses the area below your womanhood. He reaches his hand back up and pulls your underwear down to where your pants are. You feel the cold air blow across your exposed area and you shudder lightly.

“My my~ so wet for me already and I haven’t even done anything yet. How adorable~.” he teases as he runs one of his fingers across your slit. You let out a breathy moan and tilt your head back into the wall more. “I want you to be as vocal as you can darling. Show me how good I make you feel, yeah~?”

“Y-yes Joongie~.”

“Spread ‘em.” He demands and you quickly place your legs further apart so he has full access to your dripping area. He softly kisses the area around your crotch before gripping your hips and diving straight in to licking you up.

“F-fuck! H-Hongjoong!” Your hands reach down and grip onto his hair. His tongue slowly drags across your slit, almost like he is teasing you. His nose presses perfectly onto your clit. A loud moan gets caught in your throat for a moment and it releases when Hongjoong pushes his tongue into your opening.

“Mmm~ F-fuck yes baby~!” You secretly bite your lip to try and suppress your moans, even though you are in a soundproof room and no one could hear what’s happening. Hongjoong takes notice of your lack of noise and slaps the side of your hip harshly, causing you to whimper.

“I told you to be vocal.” He growled and rubbed your hip where he hit it.

“S-sorry!” You stutter out. Hongjoong continues to lick and suck, showing that he accepts your apology. His hands gripping onto your sides and he pushes his face further into you. You moan out softly at the new sensation. You call out his name as his fingers claw deep into your skin. You’re panting and moaning like crazy and you can tell you’re close to your release.

“You gonna cum for me baby?” he whispers softly from underneath you as he gently licks your pussy lips.

“Y-yeah~. J-just a bit more please~.” you beg out, so close to your release. Tilting your head against the wall again as you try to hold on a bit longer. Hongjoong takes one of his hands from your side and begins to rub your clit while pushing his tongue into you. The sensation of his finger rubbing you and his warm delicate tongue lapping your dripping hole. It’s almost too much to bear.

“H-Hongjoong, I’m gonna-!”

“Cum for me sweetheart~, I wanna hear you.” He continues to rub your clit and within a few seconds the knot in your stomach comes undone. Your legs become weak, but Hongjoong holds you up while you continue to cum on his fingers. You let out the loudest moan you have ever heard from yourself. Hongjoong glides his fingers through your slit while you ride out your high.

“Oh-oh my god.” You pant out. You open your eyes slightly and you see Hongjoong looking at your fucked out face as he lifts his fingers to his mouth and licks the cum off of them.

“You taste delicious darling~.” He says lowly and then he smirks at you. You whimper and softly smile. “Let me help you out here baby.” He grabs your underwear and pants from the floor and lifts them up for you. After that, he caresses your face and looks at you lovingly. You smile at him and he smiles back. “You feel okay?” He looks at you concerned as you haven’t said anything since you came.

“Yeah, I’m okay baby.” You pause for a moment. “Thank you~.” He leans in and gently kisses you.

“Good~.” He goes to your side and puts your arm over his shoulder, helping to carry you out of the recording booth. “Oh…and thanks for the samples by the way~.” He says and you can tell there is a smirk on his face. You feel your body temperature rise out of embarrassment.

“Wait what?”

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sc0tters · 9 months

Text

Your Best Listener | Ethan Edwards

summary: Ethan learns about your biggest secret, but when you learn he knows. your reaction is better than expect, so what happens when you offer to lure him into it with you?

request: yes/no

warnings: sexual themes, blow job, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), consensual use of recording device, use of the word cum, soft choking (yes I very much so got carried away with this one)

word count: 2.7k

authors note: to the person who requested this, you are so creative! I hope that I’ve done it justice, I don’t know what you call someone who records sexual audios cause pornstar really didn’t feel like the right option. hoping this isn’t the last request you make though because I’m like in love with your mind.

It had been on Ethan's mind for days.

It plagued his thoughts to the point where it kept him up at night staring at the ceiling as the voices in his head made him feel shame. He knew that the second he heard your voice he should have clicked off of the page, letting it go into the history of his laptop never to be brought up again. But when you let out a moan it suddenly caused Ethan to be sent into a whole different ball park. So rather than leaving, he stayed. The boy made a burner account so that you'd never have to know about what he was doing, so that it could be his little secret that he knew about what you did.

How he knew that you made sexual audios and posted them online.

Ethan realised that you had been doing this since just before the two of you moved to Michigan where you in fact became friends. He honestly had to say that he was shocked. You were the quiet girl who he had to bug for two and a half months before you finally spoke to him. The girl who would sit in the back of the class, the girl who would avoid pres because she hated small talk? That was you, so when he saw that you had racked up over 10,000 followers and over 100 clips that you recorded over the duration of your account, Ethan had to say that it was a nice surprise.

It was over a month ago that he learnt about this account and it made him laugh that you had a schedule even for this. The Canadian thought it was overkill when he learnt that you had your days that you did face masks, days that you shaved, and now days that you uploaded too.

Thursday at 7pm was when the new video would come onto your account, the only problem about this particular Thursday was that you asked him to hang out.

Sure he loved hanging out with you, it was something that he always looked forward to but on Thursdays Ethan wanted nothing more than to be sat in his room, under his warm sheets as he listened to your newest post.

You loved the power of intimacy that the account had shown you, how both men and woman alike enjoyed listening to you. The array of posts that you made were everything from mini role plays to your personal favourite where you were the listeners bossy little girl. You were naturally a total sub when it came to being in bed with someone else, so having the space to be dominant was empowering to you.

So when Ethan came over he was totally unaware of the fact that you were wearing one of your favourite outfits to record in. A matching blue lace set that had a gem in the center between your breasts. The reason why you had recorded one today was because you were going on a girls trip for the long weekend that was coming up and it meant that you weren't going to had time to record.

You and Ethan had been sat scrolling through the various movies that you had yet to view on Netflix as the clock struck 7.

The Canadian had been so caught up in picking the perfect movie that he didn't realise the time and as a string of notifications came through his phone he muttered a simple "can you check those for me?" The request was simple and innocent. And you already knew his password so as you lifted his phone up your eyes went wide to see what was said.

yourbestgirl has posted !

When you went quiet for an uneasy amount of time Ethan looked over your shoulder "shit," he mumbled as he realised that he had been caught out.

It was safe to say that you were embarrassed that he had found this but you wondered if he knew it was you "I should have told you that I knew about it," now that's a real what the fuck moment.

You had the moment to deny it but there was a burning question in the forefront of your mind "you ever gotten off to my clips?" You asked as you placed you hand on his thigh as you slowly began to rub up his leg, it wasn't a question that was far fetched as he had to follow you in order to get those notifications.

Ethan let his head drop back as he was surprised that you weren't freaked out by this "yeah," he repeatedly nodded as he unintentionally let out a whimper.

The hockey player wasn't one to be submissive but he seemed to enjoy those clips of yours the most "you like thinking of me as you get yourself off?" You were so forward because you were honestly turned on by this.

And after watching Ethan in the teams preseason efforts -especially the one by the football field where he lost his shirt at one point- you had started thinking about him when you recorded "so so much," he groaned as you were palming him through his shorts.

As he watched you smirk batting your eyelashes at him Ethan thought that he was going to pass out "thought about recording those clips with you." The Canadian confessed causing you to stop.

Throughout all of those recording sessions not once did you ever think about finding a partner to work with you. It was almost like you would have a special guest on the channel "you want to record with me?" You pulled away being serious in your question.

You had never heard of two people recording audios, this was a whole new ground of uncharted territory "only if you'd be comfortable with that." Ethan didn't want to cross anymore lines than he already had.

It was like a lightbulb had gone off above your head "we could make it like a threesome," the idea just fell from your lips as your filter seemed to quickly disappear as you two spoke about this.

Now you had never had a threesome before but you did know that it was a pretty simple set up. You and Ethan would play the happy couple and the listener would fit the role of your friend that walked in on you two. It almost meant that you actually be able to just do anything you were meant to do to the listener to Ethan instead.

The hockey player was almost touched by the proposal "something tells me that you've been thinking about this too," he smirked as he brushed some of your hair out of your face letting his fingers brush along your jaw before he leaned in to place soft kisses against your jaw.

You reached down to grab your phone as you let out a moan "e," you quickly went to type a message to your roommate "how long do you think we're gonna need?" You asked as you motioned to the message, you had already typed an hour.

Ethan looked at you as he sent you a glare "could make you come in ten," he shook his head "like to see you try," you shot back with a smirk.

It was like one of you recordings came to life "just let me know if you get uncomfortable or want to stop at anytime." Your voice was serious as you grabbed your mini microphone that you used to record. The long cable was thankfully still connected to your laptop meaning that all you had to do was press record "we've been wanting to try this forever," Ethan started by actually answering your consent request.

You smiled as you could see how he was a total natural in this "you think they can handle it baby?" You asked as you took your shirt off so that you could clip the microphone to the strap of your bra.

It was a sight that made Ethan swear that his dick was about to explode "go show what your mouth can do," he smiled as he leaned forward to kiss you.

It was a soft moment that made your knees buckle "you wanna be a good little listener?" You giggled as you dropped to your knees and began to unbuckle his belt.

Ethan clicker his tongue "play nice baby," he warned as he watched you drag your fingers along his boner. It was a sensation that caused him to tense his thighs "you're so desperate that I can't even tease you." You pouted looking up at the Canadian before you leaned down spitting on his cock as you began to use your hand to get him off "be a good girl and give him your mouth then." He repeated the phrase as he was desperate to feel your mouth on him.

Nodding you placed a kiss on the tip of his cock before you put it in your mouth.

Your tongue swirled around as you managed get to the base of his cock. Using your nostrils to breathe as your eyes began to water "being such a good girl for them," Ethan cooed as he ran his fingers through your hair as he helped you begin to let him fuck your face.

He let out a groan as he wiped one of the tears away from your cheek "it's all for my good little listener," you pulled away and as you spoke you made sure that your hand was making sure that Ethan wasn't lacking any type of attention before you used your mouth again.

It should have been embarrassing how fast he was reaching his high but you were beyond talented. You knew how to press your tongue flat against the bottom of his cock, how you would lightly massage his balls giving them the occasional squeeze, how you would take so much of his cock in your mouth to the point where you were gagging around it. You knew how to bring a boy to his knees in a matter of minutes.

That's why you felt so proud of yourself, your ego continued to be stroked by the boy as you caused him to reach his high "shit fuck fuck." Ethan repeated the string of words as he felt his body shake when his hands clenched around your hair forcing you to swallow everything that he had shot into your mouth.

You used your thumb to collect the drop of cum that was still on the head of his penis before you sucked on your thumb when you got up "I'm sorry," the hockey player apologised as he watched you smile.

Letting out a soft sigh you shook your head "that was so hot," you murmured as you kissed him.

Ethan let out a groan as he could taste himself on your lips causing you to make the mental note of editing the audio before you released this.

You softly pushed him onto your bed as you let out another giggle "you got a condom?" You asked as you saw that your box was empty.

That felt like the world was playing tricks on the boy "nope," Ethan groaned as he wanted to pull his hair out of his head.

Thankfully for you, you had seen your spare plan B pills that were still in your drawer "I'm on the pill and I've got these," you pointed out as you were happy with the resolution.

Ethan was now thinking that the day simply couldn't get any better "you sure?" He asked as he didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable.

You nodded as the idea of him fucking you raw was making your wetness pool in your panties "want you to fuck me so good," you mumbled as he kissed your stomach as he pulled your thong down.

Ethan moved you onto the bed as he sent you a final look asking if you were sure about what he was doing. You nodded dropping a gasp as he trailed his cock over your clit making sure to tease you "don't tease me please," a beg came from your lips as he slipped into you.

It took you a moment to readjust to his sheer size before you squeezed his arm motioning to him to start moving again "right there," you groaned when Ethan placed his thumb on your clit in an attempt to make you come quicker.

Yes Ethan was a man with an ego but he also knew when he was a man on the losing end of a battle. And fucking you raw whilst he was still sensitive from his first orgasm meant that he wasn't going to last very long "liking how warm my girls pussy feels." He grunted as he dug his fingers of his other into your side.

You let out a moan as you propped yourself onto your elbows "so good," you murmur before you kissed him.

The had that was on your waist moved to your throat as he pushed your back flat onto your bed as he put the slightest amount of pressure around your throat.

The boy was careful to not suffocate you as he didn't want to restrict your oxygen but rather slow the blood flow from your body to your brain sending you into that hazy mood "wanna be filled to the brim," you confessed as you wrapped you hand around his arm making sure that he didn't move his hand from your upper body.

You were truly on cloud nine as you were feeling so many new sensations due to the lack of a condom "got such a pretty mouth," Ethan's thumb quickened it's movements on your clit drawing another whimper from you.

Locked your legs around his waist you couldn't help but let him be in total control "look at her so ready to come," he cooed as you squeezed around him making him groan "doesn't like letting you survive when she's close," he pointed out as the feeling of your pussy was similar to your mouth, warm and slick.

The access that you had given him was paying off as he got the chance to feel every crevice of your core "hitting you so deep," the hand that was on your clit moved to your stomach as he placed his palm down with pressure.

It caused you to nearly scream "gonna come," you announced as your own two fingers managed to find their way to your sensitive nub.

Ethan nodded "right behind you," you had been squeezing him so tight to the point where he could see stars.

You let out this cry "fill me to the brim." You barely got the words out before your orgasm hit you like a truck.

There was a gush that Ethan felt from your core before it loosened around him and that caused him to shoot his cum deep inside of you "Jesus gem," his hand fell forward onto the other side of you as he stopped himself from collapsing when he pressed stop on the recording.

You were absolutely fucked out as you struggled to keep your eyes open "I'm gonna get you a towel okay baby?" Ethan's words ended with a kiss to your temple that cause you to nod "did so good for me," he called out whilst in your bathroom.

He came back to see what could only be described as heaven. It was the site of your bare pussy as both of your releases slowly oozed out of you.

The warm wash cloth felt like an angels kiss as you let him do it "I should get going before she gets back." The hockey player mumbled as he handed you his hoodie sensing that you were cold.

That was what you didn't want to hear him say "new business partners spend the night," you shook your head as you leaned in to peck his lips.

This side of you was something that he could get used to "and when exactly did you establish this?" He asked as he slipped his boxers back on.

You sent him a playful grin "as of like thirty seconds ago."

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