#fucking idiots. every single one of em

[faeflowerz]

Savanaclaw Imprinting on You

I have nothing cheeky to say. Let's do this.

Warnings: My gross misunderstanding of animals, Bullying Leona for being a big chonk

Characters: Ruggie, Jack, Leona

Ruggie imprinting on you is an "oh shit" moment for him. He lives his life so casually and when he sees you, like really sees you for the first time, he's acting unwise. Ruggie will do things for you that he wouldn't for anyone else. He doesn't ask for you to return the favor. He even shares his food.

Now this last one is particularly special for him given that he values food more than his peers. Food is how he communicates and finds pleasure. I won't get too far into the feederism side, but I think there'd be a lot of "You should eat. Have you had breakfast?"

But it's not all picnics and dandelions. Hyenas are pretty scary if you piss em off. So if one of your guy friends touches you the wrong way or tries to tease him about his sudden obsession with you, he will go on the offense. Lots of growling and hes ready to turn them into a hashtag. You gotta drag him away every single time.

"Dude, you can't just go around picking fights with everyone! What's your damage, Ruggie?"

"I wouldn’t be so mad if those assholes kept their hands off of you!"

"That's what this is about? They mess around all the time, it's not a big deal."

"It is to me! I don't like it!"

"Okay, but why though? Why would you give a fuck?" You shake your head, frustrated by the look he was giving you.

"Because I'm jealous!" He barks. "I don't want anyone else touching you but me!" Everything is quiet as you try to process what he just said.

"Ruggie...what-"

"I like...being around you all the time. And all I can think about is you. And...ugh...this is so stupid." His cheeks are cute and pink as he mumbles his way though his confession. And you, you're smiling. Seeing him get so real with you is so sweet and touching. As he's trying to justify his behavior, you place a sweet kiss on his nose. Then he's all shishishi cause he got kissed.

When Jack imprints on you, he's pretty tsundere about it. Suddenly he's hanging around you and by extension the other first years. Its not like he loves you and how you smell and the way you laugh at your dumbass friends. He just...needs to be within five feet of you at all times. Oh, and that tail? It's wagging every single time you acknowledge him or give him attention. The most antisocial boy is suddenly craving your affection.

And of course Ace is gonna clown him for it. Though it feels a little bit different. "Is there somethin you're not telling us? No fair that you two have A Thing going on the down low."

"What are you even talking about?" Jack crosses his arms, clearly trying to keep cool.

"Come on, dude. You lit up when Prefect sat next to you," Ace pouts at the both of you before calling you out too. "Are you together?!"

"Wh-what?! What would make you think that?!"

And all of your friends have examples. Waay too many. And then, Ortho says, "You know, imprinting can happen to beast men too. There's a chance that-"

"What happens between me and Prefect is our business. I didn’t ask any of you to help me confess either."

Major self report. His tail is going a trillion per hour and he realizes what he just said. "Damn it."

"Ha! I knew it!" Ace chortles.

"Wow...that was pretty bold, Jack," Epel hides his grin behind his hand. As for you...

Well, you're smiling like an idiot. It's not like you haven't been purposefully saying and doing things to see his tail wag, make his ears flicker and see him smile a little. You can't pretend to be shocked as you look at Jack for a response. "Well, I guess I should have been honest from the start..."

So there you are, resigned to be a pillow for the biggest cat you've had the misfortune of knowing. Leona loves your thighs and like hell he's going to pass up on your free period to get some sleep. You've accepted your fate, but your legs are just as comatose as he is. As you try to shift around, this catman actually whines in protest. Inside, he's praying you didn't hear it. "Stop moving," he manages to say.

So, Leona's imprinted on you. Now what? Well, you're gonna know quite quickly. Like, it's kind of not a secret since Leona is so shameless with everything he does. Though, he won't actually say "I've imprinted on you." His actions are all the confirmation you need. Actually, he's the most overbearing because he will just drag you away from whatever you're doing just to take a nap with him. Are you in the greenhouse for a class? Well, too fucking bad. Leona wants you to give him attention. You know. Like a cat.

"M'leg's asleep," you complain. "Plus you're heavy."

"Neither of these are my problem."

"You're literally responsible for both."

"You callin me fat?"

"...maybe I am," Leona opens one eye to glare up at you. He wants to be mad. But seeing you so pleased by his reaction makes him melt a little. "What? All you do is eat and sleep what else am I supposed to think?" To your surprise, he sits up. You're about to ask but he flops on top of you, sending you both into the soft patch of grass. Leona's spooning you and your face is buried in his fat (and kind of fuzzy) tits. "Seriously?!"

"Look, you're just going to have to deal with the fact that you're one of the few people I can tolerate."

He's a real piece of work, isn't he? Still, his body is kind of warm and cuddly, huh? He would probably get mad if you said that out loud though.

#twisted wonderland #writing #faes drabbles #leona kingscholar #ruggie bucchi #twst x reader #jack howl #jack howl x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #leona kingsholar x reader #reader insert #reader imagine #yumejoshi

[mistydeyes]

lavender secrets and whispers

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summary: You'd laugh when your civilian friends would crush on your team. You've seen them at their worst, tear-gassed, sweaty and disgusting from days in the field, and beyond drunk from the pub. That's why when your female partner is revealed, the boys step up as your older brothers.

pairing: 141 x platonic! wlw! afab!Reader

warnings: SWEARING, mentions of homophobia

a/n: i love my 141 boys but women are just UGH CHEFS KISS

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You tried to keep your personal life to yourself, not wanting to risk the dangers associated with revealing it as well as wanting to avoid the offers for a threesome

Eventually, your partner was revealed when you landed in a hospital back in the UK

It was just a minor gun shot to the thigh but of course it needed proper care to heal

Your partner joined you by your bedside, holding your hand and keeping you company

After your first day in the hospital, the 141 boys showed up to see how you were doing

“The rest of the mission went smooth- well hello there, miss” Price began to say, locking eyes with your partner. Only Price had known her existence, just in case something ever happened to you.

“I’ll leave you alone, it’s time for some tea anyways” your partner said and exited the room

“I didn’t know you had a sister” Kyle commented before you rolled your eyes and replied, “She’s my partner idiot”

Suddenly it all clicked, your disinterest in all of the offers for romance from young recruits and people from all over the world was because you were in a relationship

They felt stupid, realizing the flags they missed—what straight woman would get Sappho’s writings tattooed?

Suddenly you had an onslaught of questions from Soap and Gaz

“Where did you meet?” “Cambridge, she was on exchange from the states”

“How long have you been dating?” “Six years now”

“You gonna marry her?” “Eventually, definitely not now with my leg”

“How long have you uh—“ “It’s okay Gaz, I’ve liked women my whole life really, I’m not afraid to say it”

Finally Ghost asked, “Why didn’t you tell us?” “Well, some people get weird about it and making some inappropriate comments. You're my teammates but my personal life is, well, personal”

After what seemed like forever, your lovely significant other returned with a tray of drinks

“It’s not much but the local coffee shop was still open so I got you all something”

She handed them to each of the men, remembering how Price likes his coffee strong, Gaz enjoys floral teas, Soap takes it with bucket of sugar, and Ghost always orders earl grey

“Thank you, ma’am” they said and she smiled giving a quick, “welcome home, soldiers”

Eventually after some more friendly conversation, the men were ready to return into their own homes and bed—your so said goodbye and thanked them for generally keeping you safe

As they walked out, Ghost said, “She’s a good one, keep ‘em close Y/N”

During your free time, they always ask to see pictures of her

You’ve shown them a few of your favorites—the two of you at pride, her with your pet cat, and ones from the few dates you went on

Price confides in you as to what to get his fiancée at home, you gladly help him knowing the troubles of finding the perfect gift

Gaz points out every rainbow to you, you can’t help but laugh as you joke about rainbow capitalism that companies do every June

Once Soap asked if you ever had double dates with Laswell and her wife

“No Soap, I know we both love women but gay people aren’t friends with every single gay person”

You do have to tell them that you don’t wanna hear about their rendezvous, you like women but not the sex talk

When you go to bars, the boys make sure to protect you from anyone—knowing your partner would have their heads if something happened to you

One time, a man came up behind you and tried to hold your waist

Ghost whispered in his ear “get your fucking hands off of her” before punching his lights out

He quickly became your girlfriend’s favorite out of the squad

Just know they’ll clock anyone who makes a homophobic comment to you or outs you

Price made one of the recruit’s life a living hell when he heard him say, “Dumb bitch probably doesn’t like dick because she can’t handle it”

Let's just say everyone knows not to mess with you now

If you aren’t close with your family, Price is more than happy to walk you down the aisle and the boys will definitely be in attendance

Soap and Gaz = flower girls! No one questions when two strong military men are stoically throwing flowers down the aisle

It was a beautiful day and you have a picture on your mantle of you and your wife along with your boys surrounding you :)

#task force 141 x reader #task force 141 #cod x reader #call of duty modern warfare #cod mwii #modern warfare 2 #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #call of duty #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #soap x reader #price x reader #kyle garrick x reader #john price x reader #Johnny mactavish x reader #mw2 imagine #madebyizzie #mw2 #izzie is writing

[btsgotjams27]

fool for you | jjk

When Jungkook is finally single, you shoot your shot.

✨ title: fool for you | ✨ pairing: jungkook x f!reader ✨ word count: 1.8k | ✨ rating: pg-13 ✨ genre/au: fluff, light angst | college, fake dating, strangers to friends to lovers ✨ warnings: alcohol consumption, language, mentions of cheating, soft boyfriend vibes jungkook (yes, it's a warning), hand holding, kissing

[ SERIES MASTERLIST ] | next ✨ part two

While you were idly scrolling through Netflix, your roommate and best friend, Lyla raced into the room. You jumped back in response to her sudden arrival and banged your head on the hanging fairy lights strung along your wall.

"Babe! Get the fuck up! It's your time to shine." She ran to the closet, rummaging through her things, looking for something.

You sat up, confused, pausing your scrolling through Netflix. "Wait, what do you mean?"

"Jungkook and Jieun! J-squared. They broke up, and she cheated on him!" Lyla turned to you, grinning at the last bit she spat out.

Jieun cheated on Jungkook? Who would cheat him? He's the complete package, the one to ruin you for the next guy and every girl's ideal partner. You were bewildered that she thought someone else was better than Jungkook. What a fool, you thought.

You'd had a crush on him for months, and now that he was finally available, you had the chance to make a good impression. You were surprised to learn that he had been seeing the cheerleading squad captain, Jieun, for almost a year. Nevertheless, you weren't going to pursue a person in a relationship.

Lyla, the melodrama queen, devised a plan to help you. Were you even ready for a relationship? Was he? He just got out of a relationship. Indeed he wasn't even close to being ready to date again. And you weren't looking to be someone's rebound. So, you weren't sure why Lyla became adamant about you making a move right this second.

Lyla tossed the white cable-knit sweater and mustard-colored skirt she had just pulled across your lap. “Babe, the row of girls outside his dorm room will take your shot if you don't!” She kept glaring at you and the pile of clothing on your lap, telling you to change immediately.

From what you've heard, Jungkook was the kind of person who was constantly dating. A girl was ready to come in when the first one ended. You would assume that now was your turn because there was girl after girl watching and waiting for their chance to strike.

But it was now or never. What did you have to lose? Him saying no or ignoring you? Pfft--you've had worse happen.

So you plucked up the confidence, exhaled, and decided to dive in. Time to feast.

You scoured the dripping, wet campus to see if he was walking from his English class back to his dorm. You blame Lyla, who dug up all the dirt on him. She claimed that you needed an upper hand to everything Jeon Jungkook.

Right on schedule. His English class was released and now was your chance. You hesitated momentarily, but Lyla patted your ass to encourage you. "Go get 'em, tiger!"

Even from the back, he had a soft and cuddly appearance. The perm he got a few months ago was starting to grow out, so perhaps that was the cause, along with his furry brown overcoat.

You quickly approached the cute, cuddly boy wearing a brown jacket. “Hi—I'm so sorry to bother you..." The cute boy you've been crushing on peered at you with his big doe eyes, and fuck–he was wearing those clear, transparent glasses you loved so much. You kept following his speed as he held out his transparent umbrella. "...this is kind of stupid and weird, but we're about to pass my ex, and I was wondering if you hold my hand so I can make him jealous."

You were certain he would refuse you and make you look like a fucking idiot as his eyes narrowed. But he held his right hand while switching the umbrella to his other hand. "Where is he?" Looking around to see who you were referring to.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Hook, line, and sinker.

You didn't imagine he'd fall for the ruse; instead, you anticipated that he would give you a crazy look before walking away. As you saw this plan unfold, you turned to look at Lyla, squirming excitedly in place.

"He's over there." Funny enough, when you and Jungkook pointed at a random ass on campus, the man knit his eyebrows in confusion.

"You gonna take my hand or...?"

"Right..." You completely forgot he was reaching out his hand for yours. Your hand was entwined with his and was everything you had hoped for. Large, warm, and inviting. To your surprise, he took your hand and held it against his chest before raising it to kiss the back of your hand.

Oh god—his lips were so soft. This was pure agony for you. You tried to hide your smile by looking away from him. The thought of his lips on your skin caused the butterflies in your stomach to flutter. Lyla's ridiculous plan worked.

You two walked silently for a few more minutes until you arrived at the library. You let go of Jungkook's hand, although you thought yours fit perfectly in his.

You took a few steps up and turned around to face him. "Thank you," you mumbled, your gaze drawn to your semi-soaked boots rather than his.

Jungkook laughed at your timidity after being so bold. "Do you need anything else to make your ex jealous?"

A kiss, you thought, but you shook your head and waved it aside. "Thank you again," you said as you dashed into the library.

You found an empty desk and buried your head in the crook of your arms, completely mortified by your actions. You couldn't believe you had just told your crush a lie. But you're unlikely to run into him again. You didn't have the same circle of friends or attend the same parties...or, more accurately, you were rarely invited to parties. So you tried to justify your actions. It was simply to take your shot and leave a lasting impression. You were proud of yourself for getting out of your comfort zone and doing something instead of sitting around and wondering what would happen.

It was the weekend before Spring Break, and you were excited to travel to LA with Lyla and some other girls from your floor. Do some shopping, go to the beach, and end your trip at Disneyland.

Of course, a Spring Break celebration would be incomplete without a party. Lyla had recently begun a friends-with-benefits deal with Kim Namjoon, and he had invited you and Lyla.

"Ly—why are we here again? This isn't our scene," you huffed, walking past a glob of what looked like someone hurled a basket of Halloween candy. You tiptoed carefully around it, the smell almost making you gag.

"It's time to meet new people and make new friends, babe. Plus, you never know when you'll run into Jeon Jungkook," she suggested, her brows wiggling in delight.

You gave her a scowl. "Please—I can never face Jungkook again, and I can't believe you got me to lie to him." And you never saw him on campus after the whole thing. And Jungkook had to have sworn off all women because you hadn't heard anything about him being taken or seeing someone. Your little coincidence was just that. You didn't expect a relationship to blossom from a lie.

Lyla chuckled and linked her arm with yours. She squealed quietly when she saw Namjoon in the kitchen, making a drink. She kept dragging your homebody ass towards the group of guys hooting and howling.

"Hey," Jungkook paused, "you're that girl who wanted me to hold your hand." He almost seemed pleased to see you.

"That's me—thanks again, for you know, doing that," you sighed and smiled. He was exactly what you wanted to avoid.

Namjoon handed you and Jungkook a red cup, and you both thanked him before returning your focus to Jungkook. "You went to great lengths just to hold my hand."

Your eyes widened. Shit. What? Who told him? Was it Lyla? Your money was on her. You glance at your best friend, who quickly averts her gaze, kissing Namjoon on the cheek.

You shook your head and clenched your jaw. "How'd you find out?"

Jungkook shrugged. "I have my ways," he explained casually. But it was Lyla who surrendered. Lyla overheard Jungkook's conversation with a classmate as he went around, asking if anyone knew you. Lyla, being Lyla, interrupted their conversation, satisfactorily revealing your massive crush on him.

You took a deep breath and apologized. "That was incredibly stupid of me. Don't worry. You won't have to see me again." You turned around, taking a sip of the shoddy mixed drink before leaving the party. You definitely didn't want to be there anymore after being discovered by Jeon Jungkook. You could probably never show your face around campus again, trying to avoid him at all costs.

"Wait—" He beelined his way through the crowd, shouting over the loud, thumping music. He came to a halt just inches away from you. You concentrated on the small pouch attached to his combat boots to avoid having to look at him. "What if I need you to make a girl jealous?"

You scoffed at the cute boy and rolled your eyes. There's no way Jieun would ever be jealous if Jungkook were to see the two of you together. "I hardly doubt you need me to make Jieun jealous. There are plenty of other girls waiting in line," you advised him before turning around to take off again.

When the door opened, Jieun walked hand in hand with Park Jimin. You assumed she cheated on Jungkook with him. You didn't understand the allure; he was cute, but he wasn't Jeon Jungkook; to each their own, you suppose.

Your eyes narrowed at her, nostrils flared, ready to take her down--but again, why? You didn't know her, and you didn't know Jungkook. All you knew was that she cheated on him, and that pissed you off.

So you did what needed to be done. You returned to Jungkook and placed your lips on his, reaching up on your tiptoes. He took a moment to realize what was going on, but he returned the kiss, his soft, moisturized lips entwining with yours. You both tilted your heads to deepen the kiss, his free hand cupping your cheek and your hand drawing his waist closer to you. You drew away from Jungkook once you felt Jieun's presence had faded as if she had seen enough to make her jealous.

The warm fuzzy feeling in your chest began to dissipate into embarrassment. Did you just kiss Jeon Jungkook in front of his ex-girlfriend in the middle of a crowded party? You didn't even have much to drink, but you felt like you would be sick.

"I'm--so sorry, Jungkook."

✨next - Part 2

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fanfic #bts x you #bts x reader #jungkook oneshot #jungkook drabble #jungkook #fic: fool for you #college au #fake dating

[corazondebeskar-reads]

you know you never stood a chance - deleted scene #1.5

you know you never stood a chance series

deleted scene #1.5: because you look so fine

series masterlist

Joel Miller x f!reader

Words: 3.5k

Summary: set in the middle of deleted scene #1 (after Joel & Ellie come home but before you move in with them). Joel's acting weird lately.

Warnings: established relationship, technically spoilers for tlou pt 2 but no one goes golfing, poor communication, p in v, two idiots at the end of the world, fluff, tooth-rotting over the top fluff in the only way two assholes know how, oral (m&f receiving), brief Tommy & Maria cameos, a few butt slaps, good ole southern hospitality, when i started this i meant for joel to play guitar but sadly he does not.

also on ao3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

Joel’s been a little weird lately. In a very Joel way.

Or maybe not. You’re not really sure what to think of it.

Ever since that first day when he walked you home from dinner, and you didn’t invite him in, he’s been… awkward.

Or maybe he hasn’t. You don’t really know Joel. It’s a startling realization you had after he left that night.

You lived with him for six months and traveled the country with him, but neither of those were very good representations of him. When you shared the apartment, you only saw him to fuck. You didn’t hang out shooting the shit or have riveting conversations about current events over breakfast.

When you were out of the QZ with him and Tess, there was no talking. Not a single unnecessary word. He and Tess communicated silently. You were on a need-to-know basis and never had a need-to-know.

And those months traveling with Ellie? Well, you’d learned a little more about him, but also, he was under such intense stress that you’re not sure how much was Joel and how much was the situation.

He’s been a lot nicer since he got back to Jackson. Well. Maybe nicer isn’t the right word.

He’s been more talkative and smiled more. Most of the time, when he opens his mouth, though, it’s to be a sarcastic ass.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t like it.

And, okay, maybe you do know him.

You decide maybe you’re the one being weird, so you let it go until the weirdness intensifies one Friday night.

Tommy had you both cornered at the mess on Thursday. “So y’all are coming to the Bison tomorrow, right? Ernie came back with a couple of guitars to try to round out the act.”

Joel perks up at this, and you watch him carefully. He’s never seemed interested in whatever goes on at the pub. “They work?”

“They need some love,” Tommy says. “Reckon you might be able to fix ‘em up?”

“Shit,” Joel says, the curse drawn out and low as he thinks. “I might. He gonna let me come ‘n take a look at ‘em?”

“You could probably swing by tonight; see if any of ‘em can be saved.”

Joel eyes your empty plate. “C’mon, I’ll walk ya home first.”

“The Bison is closer than my house,” you say, utterly perplexed by the way this conversation has gone. “I can walk myself.”

“Nah, that’s okay. I’ll come back after.”

You think it’s kind of silly but he’s insisted on walking you home every day. Every day that you don’t end up in his bed, anyway.

Every time, he holds your hand. Sometimes you talk, sometimes you let the warm summer silence lead you.

He always kisses you goodnight. Never as chaste as the first time, but never letting it get out of hand, either. He doesn’t ask to come in. He doesn’t try to start anything.

He’s respecting your boundaries, you think, and it’s kind of weird. But good weird.

Tonight, he lingers with his arms draped loose around your hips, holding you close there but letting you lean your upper body back against the siding. He’s got a look on his face that you can’t identify.

After a moment, he narrows his eyes and jostles you a little with one arm. “Gonna come with me to the Bison tomorrow?”

“Since when do you go to Friday Night Live?” you tease.

He scowls. “Since tomorrow.”

“You can’t say since tomorrow; that doesn’t make any sense.”

“Well, I just said it, didn’t I?” His face twists into something you do recognize.

“Hey,” you pout. “Why’re you mad?”

“M’not mad. Will you stop teasin’ me and answer the question?”

You’re so lost it’s not funny. But now you recognize the first expression. He was defensive.

“Sorry, I wasn’t trying to be a dick. Sure, Joel, if you’re goin’, I’ll come out and see what the fuss is.”

“Don’t gotta try to be something you just are,” he says. There’s a hint of a smirk lurking.

You bite down a smile, rolling your eyes.

“Alright, sweetheart. I’ll see ya tomorrow.” He leans down to kiss you.

“Whoa, mister. You already got a goodnight kiss. Getting greedy?”

He bites at your lip. “Hush,” he scolds, helping himself to several kisses. “That one expired. Gotta make it up to me.”

You’re grinning stupidly, now, but so is he. “Alright, you big baby. One more.”

But he stands up straighter and kisses your forehead instead. “G’night,” he murmurs.

As always, he waits until you’re inside with the door locked before he leaves.

You lie awake for too long, tucked in and cozy, but kept up by the colony of butterflies that he seems to have let loose with all that kissing.

You’re getting ready to head down to the Bison when there’s a knock at your door. You’re trying not to think about how weirdly nervous you feel.

It’s probably just from the thought of the crowd. There’s a reason you haven’t bothered to check out the bar. Small spaces and big crowds aren’t your idea of a good time.

Maybe they were, once. You don’t really remember anymore. Now, they remind you of the hangings back in Boston.

And that’s a train of thought you’d like to derail, so the knock is a nice distraction.

When you open the door, it’s Joel.

“Oh, hey. Thought I was meeting you downtown.”

“Figured I’d walk with ya,” he says. The words are almost mumbled, and he stands stiff just outside the door.

“Alright, gimmie a few, I was just gonna change.”

“Y’ain’t gotta do that, you look nice,” he says.

You raise your eyebrows. ��Thanks?” And you gesture to where a pot of tomato soup had spilled down the side of your tee and then splattered across the bottom of your jeans when it hit the floor.

“Right,” he says.

“You can come in,” you say before heading up to your room.

You spend more time than you’d like picking something to wear. It’s those damn crowds, maybe, making you feel like you need to look nice.

In the end, though, you just pull on a clean tee and jeans with a flannel you’d nicked from Joel when you were out on the road. He hadn’t said anything about it so you figured he never even noticed. It helps, fortifying you against whatever’s making your heart beat out of your chest.

When you get back down, he’s standing in your kitchen. You stare, trying to force your brain to reboot and accept the image of him looming in your space.

He’s got a glass of water in one hand and the other wrapped tight over the edge of the basin.

“You okay?” you say.

He clears his throat and turns around. “Yeah, just needed this,” he gestures with the drink. “For, uh, for these.”

You blink a few times. There are flowers clutched in his other hand, stems trimmed to fit neatly inside.

“Okay,” you say with a shrug.

He sets the glass, now full of purple and yellow blossoms, on the counter.

“We better get going before Tommy sends a search party,” you tease, grabbing him by the belt loops. He lets you pull yourself in, leaning up for a kiss.

It’s syrupy, and his hands come to your waist so he can lick into your mouth, drawing soft moans from you both.

“There’s the hello I was lookin’ for,” he says. He looks you up and down. “Y’look real pretty, sweetheart.”

“You need your eyes checked, old man.” You move to the door, and he follows, waiting while you stuff your feet into your boots without bothering to untie them.

“Sure, let me just call the optometrist,” he rolls his eyes. “You know I like you in my clothes.” He’s patient while you lock the door, but as soon as your key is stowed in your pocket, he’s got your hands wrapped together.

It’s not until you’re sitting in the bar at a round table with Tommy and Maria that the gears finally come to a stop, and everything falls into place.

Joel’s dragged his chair to butt up against yours, and he’s got an arm slung around your shoulder. You’re leaning against him, talking to Maria about the equipment one of the patrol teams had found at an abandoned farm when your brain shorts out.

Of course, you don’t even get a second to process the thought before it spills from your mouth.

“Joel Miller,” you snap, sitting up and looking at him incredulously. “Is this a date?”

He pulls back a little, eyes wide and brows raised. “Yeah,” he says slowly, like he’s not the one that tricked you into this.

“Were you going to tell me?”

“I…” he looks wildly at Tommy and then back to you. “I thought you knew.”

“Let’s go get some drinks,” Maria says quietly. Her husband doesn’t get the hint, and she has to hiss in his ear about privacy before yanking him away from the table.

“You thought I knew? How would I have known?”

“I’ve been courtin’ ya for weeks,” he says, scowling. “Didn’t think I needed to spell it out for ya.”

“You’ve been what?”

He flushes a little but stands his ground. “Courtin’ ya. Y’know.”

“What are you talking abo—oh. Oh.” A lot of things are starting to make more sense. The flowers. The hand holding. The sweet partings. The way he pulls out your chair at the table.

“What the hell are you doin’ that for?”

He huffs a breath, arms folding across his chest. “Well, never mind.”

You take a deep breath, but it catches, stuttering in the suddenly humid room. “Can we talk about this outside?”

He must see it on your face because he puts a worried hand on your shoulder to steer you through the crowd.

Once in the open, soothed by the slightly cooler breeze, you cover your face with both hands.

“Joel,” you start.

“I was just tryin’ to do right by you this time around,” he tells the patch of grass under his boots.

You can’t help but smile just a little bit. “That’s sweet, but I don’t need you to do all that.”

He looks up at you, mouth still twisted down. But you see it for what it is again. Worry.

“You don’t have to try so hard, Joel; you already know I’m a sure thing.”

“I’m not just tryin’ to fuck you,” he snaps. His hands are clenched into fists, and he won’t look at you now. “I’m tryin’ to… I’m tryin’ to show you—”

You step closer, and he doesn’t shy away, but he does shut his mouth. You wrap your fingers back around his belt loops. “I know,” you say. “But I don’t need all that. I just need you. Just you.”

“I’m no good at this,” he grumbles.

“At what?”

“At… this,” he puts his hands on your hips. “At bein’… at relationships,” he finishes. His ears are red. “Never was.”

“Me neither,” you say. “But I’ve only had the one back before. You coulda lied and pretended to be a pro, and I’d never have known.”

He rolls his eyes and kisses the top of your head. “Just, are you… do you want to be—“

“Joel Miller, are you asking me to go steady?” you grin a little wickedly. “You wanna be my boyfriend? My boo? My beau?”

“Christ,” he says, wiping a hand down his face and groaning. He takes your hand and tugs, heading down the street.

You let him pull you along, still giggling and throwing everything you can think of at him as he weaves through the streets.

“You gonna call me shawty? Gonna make me your girl?”

He stops, and you run smack into him. “Yeah,” he says.

“What?” You hadn’t even realized you’d made it to his house, but he crowds you against it just to the side of the door. “You wanna call me shawty?” You can’t say you expected that.

He rolls his eyes. “I’m gonna make you my girl,” he says. His voice is low, with his head tucked close enough that his breath brushes your ear. One hand is on your hip, and the other is pushing the door open and sliding the key back into his pocket.

Shit, that was smooth.

“What? Ain’t got nothin’ smart to say now?”

You open your mouth, but only a squeak comes out, so you shut it and shake your head.

“Yeah? You wanna be my girl?”

Your throat’s so dry, you think you’d never had water, so you just nod a little, looking up at him through your lashes.

He smirks and kisses you, hands roaming as he walks you backward into the house. When he pushes you down onto the bed, you realize you don’t even remember climbing the stairs.

Or taking off your pants.

He makes quick work of your shirts and bra but then pulls the flannel back on you. You roll your eyes, but it quickly becomes involuntary when he runs a finger across your slit.

“Aw, sweetheart. You’re all wet. Somethin’ got you all worked up?”

But you aren’t so far gone yet that you can’t bite back.

“Yeah, turns out this hot guy has a huge crush on me, but he was too scared to ask me out. A shame, really.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

“Well, I really wanted to suck his dick, but I don’t date chickens.”

“Well, that’s just not very nice. You’re hurtin’ my feelings, sweetheart.”

“Big tough guy like you?”

His fingers brush against your clit for little more than a second before he pulls his hand away. “Yeah, I reckon you’re going to have to make it up to me.”

He stands up straight. “Get to it.”

You grin and bring your hands up to his belt, taking your sweet time to drag the end from the loop and tug it away from the buckle. You flick the prong back just as he growls his impatience.

He tugs it out of the loops and tosses it on the ground as you slip the button loose and drag the pull down the teeth of his zipper one by one.

He grabs your chin, fingers digging dimples into your smug grin. “Think you’re bein’ cute, huh?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just trying to do a good job.”

“Gotta have it in your mouth to do a good job, sweetheart. I taught you how to suck dick better than this.”

He smirks when your eyes darken and you whimper a little at the memory. He lets go of your jaw and shoves two thick fingers in your mouth.

When he pulls them back out, he shows you how wet they are. “You’re fuckin’ droolin’ for it, sweetheart.”

“Uh huh,” you mumble. But your fingers are nimbler, making deft work of the zipper and tugging his pants down.

When his cock springs free, you waste no time swallowing it down. Damn. You had meant to drag it out and tease him.

“See? Ain’t that better?” He strokes your cheek before cupping the back of your head. “So fuckin’ pretty like this.”

You moan and look up at him through your lashes. He groans and pushes you down on his cock until your nose is buried in the thicket of hair at the base.

“Yeah? You feel pretty with my cock in your mouth?” His other hand cups under your jaw, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “My pretty girl,” he murmurs.

There’s a foreign ache in your chest. You use it to distract you while you choke on him, letting him fill your throat and mind.

He fucks you like that for a few minutes, pulling out abruptly. “Hands ‘n knees, sweetheart.”

You obey immediately, though you settle on your elbows instead, a pillow tucked between your arms and head. He gropes at your ass, squeezing and rubbing his hands over it before he gives it a few firm smacks.

As if he can sense the complaint you’re about to make, he spreads you apart and buries his face in your cunt. You forget all about your impatience—you may still yearn for his cock, but his tongue is a hell of a consolation prize.

He’s fucking ravenous. He nuzzles in—you’re absolutely going to have beard burn—and devours. Two fingers pump in and out of your cunt while he licks around and in, and you can’t really tell where he ends, and you begin. It’s all so wet and rough and blissful that you reach your orgasm in no time at all.

But he pulls away, yanking himself from you with heaving breath while you cry out in disappointment.

“Beg,” he growls, slapping your ass before starting to build you up again.

You do. You beg endlessly, pleas and whines and praise spilling from your lips, broken by gasps and cries, but when you’re close, he pulls away again.

He kisses your swollen labia when you nearly sob in frustration.

“Mean,” you peek over your shoulder at him so he can see your wet eyes and exaggerated pout.

“Yeah,” he smirks. “Just like you were earlier, teasin’ me.”

You gasp. “I made it up to you!”

He scoffs. “Yeah, but ya woulda sucked my cock anyway.”

Damn. He’s not wrong. That was as much for you as it was for him.

He’s stroking your clit gently, now, and you’re having a hard time keeping your brains in a line. Or ducks. Whatever it is, they’re not doing a very good job because you can’t remember what you’re mad about.

“Please,” you whimper.

“Please, what, sweetheart? You need my tongue back?”

“Yes—fuck,” you gasp as he stuffs three fingers in your cunt.

“Hmm. Better apologize.”

“I’m sorry!” you say immediately.

He shakes his head. “Sorry for what?”

“I’m sorry I was teasing you, please, god-fucking—”

He’s sucking on your clit, pistoning his fingers hard enough that it almost matches the way his cock knocks your brain out.

Finally, finally, he doesn’t pull away. When you reach the edge, abdomen seizing, he works you through it and doesn’t stop until you’re whimpering on the other side.

He stands up, and you’d complain, but you’re too fucked out. Plus, he’s fully out of his jeans now, and all you have to do is stay like this, on your knees with your ass in the air.

He fists himself and drags the head up and down, parting you minutely but never slipping in. “Goddamn, you’re drippin’ for me.”

Your face is smushed into the pillow, but your moan is loud enough for him to hear.

“Whose cunt is this, sweetheart?”

“Wha?” you mumble.

He slaps your ass. “I said, whose pretty little cunt is this?”

“Yours, Joel.”

“And whose girl are you?”

You moan. “Yours, Joel.”

“That’s damn right.” He slams hard into you. “Say it.”

“I’m yours, Joel. I’m your girl.”

“Fuck yeah you are,” he grunts, thrusting deep on each go, barely pulling out only to slam right in. “And I’m all yours, sweetheart.”

You’re embarrassed about it later when he teases you, but his words make you cum.

“That’s it, good fuckin’ girl, cum on my cock. Just how I like it.”

His hand rubs over your lower back as he talks you through it, and it spills over into another orgasm as you clench and shake around him.

His mouth is filthy tonight, peppered with the grunts and moans you love to soak in. His hands never leave you. Eventually, he stops to roll you over and fucks into you with your knees bent up to your chest. Your fingers dig into his arms desperately as the force of his thrusts knock the air out of you over and over and over.

“Fuck, sweetheart, cup your tits for me,” he pants, pulling out and holding his cock at the base while it weeps, and when you obey, he tugs once, twice, before covering them in his cum.

“Shit,” he says, chest heaving as he catches himself on one arm near your head, hovering over you. “Shit, sweetheart. So good to me.”

He lowers himself onto his side next to you and traces an idle finger through the mess on your chest.

“Did you just fucking write your name in cum on my tits?”

“No,” but he doesn’t tell you what he did write.

He kisses you instead, and you roll your eyes but kiss him back.

You wait until after he’s cleaned you both off and settled back in bed beside you.

“So what’s it gonna be? You gonna call me boo or babe? Or babycakes?”

He rolls his eyes. “Will you knock it off?”

“No,” you admit.

“‘Sides, I ain’t gotta come up with somethin’.”

You pour. “Why not? What if I want a cutesy nickname?”

He rolls onto his side and looks you in the eye. “Already call ya sweetheart, don’t I?”

You flush, heart stuttering. “Oh yeah,” you whisper.

“Good enough for ya?”

“Uh-huh,” you say. “It’s perfect… sweetcheeks.”

His pillow smacks you in the face, and you cackle.

*title from "Are You Gonna Be My Girl" by Jet

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x f!oc #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #tlou smut #tlou fic #the last of us smut #fic: you know you never stood a chance

[saintmurd0ck]

if the tide takes california

masterlist

pairing: frank castle + mentions of reader

summary: frank spends time contemplating if he's deserving of your love

warnings: angst, hurt (with comfort), mentions of grief and loss, frank being a little sad

a/n: i wrote this in one cathartic hour, please cry with me. ok love you

song pairing: til forever falls apart (ashe ft finneas)

And that's a wrap! Thank you for tuning in today to 6NEWS Radio, late night edition. The time is currently 9 PM and we hope you have a good night, wherever you are.

"Damn interference," Frank mutters. He grits his teeth, cursing as he bends forwards to twist the volume knob down. He knows he should be minutely grateful for any service at all, considering that he's out in the middle of nowhere, forty miles from the nearest backwater town, but his tolerance still wanes to a sliver.

Sighing, Frank goes to rub his temples, remembering why it is he has the radio on in the first place. It's because he'd rather the distraction than to be alone with his thoughts.

For now.

Pushing the reminder aside, he tightens his grip on the pair of binoculars in his lap, bringing them up to his eyes. He's done a good job choosing this location. From where he is, the van is completely hidden --- concealed in a copse of trees right opposite the compound. It's a cloudless, starry night; beautiful, if it weren't for the assholes across the way. He'd run out of fingers before he'd get halfway through the gang leader's rap sheet.

He's been casing them for a week. And very soon --- Frank glances at the time on his phone --- the lights would turn on, girls and gang members arriving in hordes, and maybe, just maybe, he'd finally get to meet the head of this operation. Then, they'd have a little exchange, man-to-man.

That, of course, involves Frank being the only one of them to get out of the compound alive.

He inhales sharply, licking his lips as he continues to survey the area.

When he measures the situation in his head, taking every decision and every course of action required to execute his plan, it's simple. Easy. It's all he knows, and it makes sense.

So why is it so difficult when it comes to you?

Frank scoffs at himself, as if to say, "No, not again." Not tonight. There's a dangerous edge to his behaviour, one he continues to sharpen with every passing minute he's in this van. He purses his lips, casting aside the hollowness in his chest, the void worming its way into his heart.

The radio crackles, and a small noise sounds from the back of his throat. Thank fuck it's music now playing. He couldn't bear a single second more of that aimless, idiotic talk show.

There's a bitter taste in his mouth as he recalls that anger, the sheer turmoil within, just from listening to those people talk. He digs his boots into the footwell, his knuckles going white as the radio presenter's voice echoes in his head. He narrows his eyes, because how can people be so… carefree? How could they laugh about concert tickets and the best pie in town and harmless pranks when he has to do this?

He could've turned the radio off, and let silence fill the cracks in his environment, but some small part of him wanted to listen. Not just for a desperate glimpse into a "normal" life, but at the sweet, gut-wrenching agony it caused --- knowing he can't be a part of it, and pain is a healthy reminder he's alive.

It's a fair assumption to say that most people would run from his burden, or at least try to bury it with the rest of their closeted skeletons, but Frank can't. And he never will.

Because he can't count on anyone else. If it isn't for him, then the scum of the earth walk free.

Emotions are messy. Futile. At least guns served a purpose, no matter what that asshole in red told him. It was uncomplicated this way --- put one bad guy down, then the next. Put 'em where they belong, and they wouldn't reoffend.

Sometimes, Frank feels almost insulted that no-one sees it this way.

He puts the binoculars down, wringing his hands as he checks the time again. He allows himself to breathe in deeply, to fill his lungs with air, before turning up the volume on the radio. It's crackly, but better than before, and instead of overlapping voices, it's a mindless, endless drone of music.

He's not fussed about what comes on, as long as he can concentrate on the mission. At the end of the day, that's all that matters. Or so he convinces himself.

He rubs his eyes, listening to the words of the next song. He doesn't care for the melody, or that the singer has the kind of voice that'd smooth over the bumps in his soul, but something about the lyrics perks his ears.

…Dreaming in a world that we both know is out of our control

A muscle feathers in his jaw as he contemplates turning the radio off completely, but he stays his hand. He can't tell if it's a matter of internal torture again --- a yearning for something he, as the Punisher, could never have --- or that just this once, it's a song worth listening to.

But if shit hits the fan we're not alone, 'cause you've got me and you know That I've got you and I know

The thought of you hits him like a blow to the stomach, a twisting, red-hot knife in the embers of his fury.

If he's right about emotions, then why does your presence make him feel whole? Why is he thinking about you, three states away, before another life-threatening mission?

Frank grimaces, feeling his face contort into something that'd scare him if he looked in a mirror. He knows what he'll see, and it won't just be the husk of the man he used to be. He doesn't know if he could stand to see himself longing for yet another person who'd be better off without him.

If the tide takes California, I'm so glad I got to hold 'ya And if the sky falls from heaven above, oh, I know I had the best time falling into love

He swallows, blowing out a shaky breath, not knowing what to do next.

But it seems that you do.

'Your voice was the only thing that got me out of bed today.'

Frank looks down at your text, torment lining every heartbeat.

'Please come back to me.'

He keeps staring, frozen in place, unsure if he's worthy of your concern. Of your love.

His shoulders tense at the image of you, staying up late with him on your mind. These are feelings he's associated with danger, with grief and loss, and he's unsure if he'd be willing to go through it again. Frank hasn't allowed himself to feel in years, and for so long, he's been better off being that way.

We've been living on a fault line, and for a while, you were all mine I've spent a lifetime giving you my heart, I swear that I'll be yours forever 'Til forever falls apart

"'Til forever falls apart," Frank murmurs to himself, thinking back to the last time he made that commitment to someone, just before his world imploded before his eyes.

"Stupid fuckin' song," he says, shaking his head, but he regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth.

He opens your messages, feeling his gaze tentatively soften, and taps on your contact information. He's presented with options to reply, to call you, or to delete your number and move on, just so he can spare one more innocent soul.

His finger hovers over the screen, hesitating, and his eyes glaze over, trancelike from the song.

His instincts scream that it's a mistake to get involved, but maybe, just this once…

You pick up after the first ring, a sudden flood of relief calming your firing nerves.

Frank clears his throat. "Your voice is the only thing gettin' me through today."

#frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle angst #frank castle fanfic #the punisher #the punisher x reader #the punisher fanfic #the punisher angst #x reader #rhi writes 💻

[jackactuallywrites]

Drunk and Disorderly Chapter Four

Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x reader

Warnings: mild cringe. MC is a cutie patootie and anxiety-monologues

Summary: You have to go and file the paperwork from last weeks incident, and wouldn’t you know it, you’re filing it with Ghost

Notes: Blame/Thank @xxven she doesn’t let me sleep 🦫💕

Word Count: 1,285

ao3 link

If there was anything you hated more than paperwork, it was paperwork when it had to be delivered and then also discussed all in one meeting. Considering the army was stereotyped as shoot-first idiots with rifles, there was an annoying amount of paperwork involved. Every bullet shot had to be made a note of, every single plaster and bandage; the bureaucracy was endless. That was bad enough, yet this set of paperwork had a delightfully painful twist in that it was a paper record of you breaking your nose in a training exercise. You would have liked to have buried that memory rather than immortalise it in official military documents, but it had been insisted upon, a paper trail for any future incidents.

You’d done your best to look absolutely pristine, not a crease out of place on your uniform, your boots polished until they shone, your collar starched until it could support a grown woman’s weight. At the very least, your meeting was with Ghost, as he had been the superior officer during the incident. Elle had suggested a great many things for you to do under and over his desk until you threatened to report her for inappropriate fraternisation, and you tried to shove the filth she’d implanted in your mind's eye aside as you approached Ghost’s office.

Standing outside, leaning against the wall, was his shadow and your momentarily romantic nemesis, Soap. He gave you an upward nod as a form of greeting as you neared, his eyes flicking down to the stack of paperwork in your hand. “That your incident report?” You flicked through the pages with your thumb, rocking back and forth on your heels, “Six pages for a broken nose. Bit excessive if you ask me. Ghost in his office?” Soap nodded, “Aye, but he’s in a foul mood.” “Not one for paperwork?” He looked you over suspiciously, though you couldn’t begin to imagine his reasons, “Something like that.” The door to Ghost’s office opened, and a chastised-looking soldier scurried out, avoiding both your gazes. Soap called out to Ghost, “Got another one, LT.” You could hear the beastly snarl in Ghost’s voice as he responded, “For fucks sake. Send ‘em in.”

You popped your head around the door to find Ghost sitting behind his desk, rubbing his temples through his mask. The mountain of paperwork beside him made yours look very much like a molehill, and you paused in the doorway awkwardly, “Hello.” You drew out the o’s for a reason you couldn’t quite explain, wanting to ease some of the tension before you added your paperwork to the pile. Ghost’s head snapped up at the sound of your voice, his eyes narrowing as he took you in, “Oh. It’s you.” You gave him a nervous smile, shifting your weight from foot to foot, “The one and only.” He sighed, gesturing for you to close the door behind you as he organised the paperwork in front of him and added it to the mountain.

Flashes of Elle’s words flickered in your mind as you pushed the door to a close, and you cursed her internally before you walked over to Ghost’s desk, hoping that he wouldn’t suddenly become a mind reader. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to have that power, casually gesturing for you to take a seat opposite him, and you did, sinking down into the thinly cushioned chair. You promptly set the paperwork down on the desk, pushing it over to him, “I filled it out this morning.” Ghost reached over to take it from you, leafing through it and reading in silence you didn’t dare break.

When he’d finished reading, a little of the tension seemed to go out of Ghost’s shoulders, and he relaxed in his chair, interlocking his gloved fingers as he looked at you. “And that’s entirely accurate?” You nodded and then hesitated, “Yeah- I mean, I didn’t see whatever happened after I hit the floor, so I couldn’t write about that, so I guess it’s not entirely accurate because I couldn’t be omniscient-“ “Relax.” The idea of messing up the paperwork and having to redo it all was aggressively present in your mind, but you forced yourself to sit back in your chair, trying hard not to continue your monologuing. Ghost waved vaguely with his hand, “The paperwork doesn’t matter. What matters is you. Your health.” He gestured at your nose, “Any difficulty breathing? Any nosebleeds?” You thought on it, “I mean, other than the initial one, no.” He nodded and then leant forward, reaching out before he paused, “May I?” “Sure.”

Yet again, Ghost’s gloved fingers were on your face, his eyes scanning your nose for any sign of further damage as he held your jaw, his thumb resting on your cheek. “Any pain?” He questioned, and you gave a slight shake of your head, “Nope. It does click sometimes, though.” You could see his brows furrow underneath the edge of his mask, and you smiled, “Seriously, if I push it at all, blowing my nose or anything, it clicks. Annoying as shit. Medic says it’s normal, but it bugs me.” Ghost’s mask shifted as he let out a soft snort, perhaps smiling underneath the thick fabric. You grinned at him, and he withdrew his hand, looking back down at the paperwork, “You included that in here?” “Of course, sir. Spared no detail.” “I can tell.” “You’re not telling me you don’t like paperwork now after I put all that effort in?”

Yet again, Ghost leaned back in his chair, and this time, you could see the crinkles at the corner of his eyes, signalling he was certainly smiling underneath that balaclava. “I’ll treasure it.” “You better. Took me ages.” He grabbed one of the pens on his desk, flipping through to where it required his signature at the end, scrawling it on the dotted line. When it was done, he tossed the pen aside, sitting back in his chair, “Fuckin’ paperwork.” “You’re welcome for my contribution to Paperwork Mountain. Rich toffs will be trying to climb it any second now.” He shook his head, making a shooing motion with one hand, “Go on, get out of here.” Another glance at the mountain of paperwork shot a pang of sympathy through your heart as you paused in leaving, “You fancy coming out to the club this weekend? After all the paperwork, that is.”

Usually, a casual invite like that was responded to immediately, yet Ghost seemed to be taking his time with it, an imperceptible emotion clouding his eyes as he looked at you. “This weekend?” His words echoed your own as though he was puzzled by the question. “Well, yeah. The girls and I make a habit of going out every Friday, but Elle’s got plans with her new girlfriend and Kate’s gone up north to see her lot, so if you’re not busy or going out with anyone else-“ “I’ll be there.” He seemed to have a knack for cutting you off before you could truly fall into a monologue, and you bit back your words, giving him a nod, “Alright then! I’ll look forward to seeing you then.” He nodded again, “Look forward to it. Close the door behind you.”

With that, you were dismissed, and you left your paperwork with him, pulling the door shut behind you as instructed. Soap was still loitering in the hallway, and he looked at you curiously. “LT’s taken a shine to you.” You chose not to question the meaning of his words, giving him an awkward smile and a deferential ‘sir’ as you made a swift exit, needing nothing more than to talk to Elle and Kate as soon as possible.

#jack writes #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #cod #simon riley #cod fanfic #cod mw2 #ghost mw2 #cod fic #simon ghost x reader

[buckysmith]

Christmas special 4

Includes: Ghost, Soap, Price, Gaz, Laswell, Valeria, Graves, Alejandro, Rodolfo and König

A bit spicy so reading is on your own risk

NOTE: Who’s an idiot? Right, me. I saved it instead of uploading it… I just thought you guys didn’t like the last special so… yeah, I’m stupid 🫡

Ghost

- he hates Christmas

- he’s like the grinch, heart two sizes to small

- but he do finds some comfort in knowing you like it

- honestly it’s a big step in your relationship if he lets you decorate the house

- but it’s an even bigger step to have a Christmas tree

- why you may ask

- the last time he had seen a Christmas tree was with his family, the family that died, the family that was killed.

-somehow to see a Christmas tree triggered the last memory of his family and well- he just didn’t want to deal with it

- one reason he always tried to go on a mission while Christmas time, most likely in a country that doesn’t really celebrate Christmas at all

- but with you he tried to change this memory to a new one, a better one.. a one that didn’t hurt him

- so to watch you smiling like an angel after he allowed you to put up a Christmas tree warms his heart

- but because you had to get rid of all the Christmas stuff before, you don’t have any Christmas bulbs at all- not even a fairy lights - just nothing

- so you have to go shopping first

- he ofc goes with you, how could he not? Maybe you get lost or some creepy dude comes to you telling you to see cute little puppies or smt like that

- the moment he steps inside the store he dies

- you can see in his eyes that he wants to everywhere but there

- he swallows the lump in his throat, trying to not show you that he wants to go home and never leaving it again

- he watches you almost in horror how you pick up the different Christmas bulbs, fairy light and other stuff you decorate a Christmas tree with

- he’s already so done after shopping he wants to go into his bed

- forcing him to stay with you ends up with him acting like a angy cat

- he takes one Christmas bulb into his hand, scanning it like it’s something not from earth

- asking him to bind a string through the top of the bulb to be able to hang it up ends with you getting a death stare from him

- you want what from him?

- why should he help you

- he grumbles but he helps you

- after everything is done, he scans the tree, leaving the living room just to come back with a Granate

- you watch in horror while he puts that thing in the tree too

- he just grins at you

- it’s fake

- but now there hangs a granate in the middle of the tree

- you can forget the cute little picture you wanted to make

- but you wouldn’t put it down, maybe it means something for Simon

- it doesn’t, but to watch you looking at that thing in completely horror makes him giggle

- at least in the inside

Soap:

- he buys the biggest fucking Christmas tree you can imagine

- his house is huge and the ceilings are high

- watch him struggle to get the tree from his trunk

- he doesn’t want you to help him

- but you have too, cause otherwise something is going to be broken afterwards

- may it be one of the windows or some of the decorations … maybe even both (or not just one window if we want to be honest)

- he has like every fucking Christmas bulb you can imagine

- like really

- his family is big in decorating

- he’s too

- your house may looks completely normal from the outside but the inside is bright as the fricking day

- your electric bill is going to explode, good thing your husband is a rich man

- listing to every single Christmas song is a go

- he knows every single Christmas song too

- he’s not the best singer- not at all

- he sounds like a dying cat

- but you love him so you sing along

- together you’re a duo of dying animals

- but back to the tree

- if he has to buy Christmas bulbs (cause his glass ones are going to break from time to time- (he sat himself on them, like all of em ))

- he cried after that

- but to buy new ones, better ones and plastic ones are a bigger win than a lose

- struggles to put the string through the hole of the bulb (idk what it’s called hahah)

- big fingers, not fitting for petit pieces like that

- he he may throw one of the bulbs against your head

- throw it back

- you both are fighting with each other till your the one laying on the ground, with him on top of you pressing your hands to the ground

- shit eating grin

- well, you both have to make a break from decorating your tree

- mans got something other than a tree in his mind

- after that you continue to decorate the tree

- he may throw something against your head again, maybe your up for a round two?

- but after you both are done with decorating he likes to hold you close to him while cuddling on the couch

- he just admires the tree and how beautiful you look in its light

- he mumbles sweet nothings after that into your ear

- he wouldn’t say it out loud, not with it being your first Christmas with him, but that man plans on decorating the tree in a few years with two or three little copy’s of you and himself

Alejandro

- he likes Christmas, but don’t get me wrong he doesn’t even have the slightest on decoration (if you don’t bring it into the family)

- he even drove to the USA to get a Christmas tree (he knows a cop that plants them and he likes him, so he only buys the trees from him)

- soooo back in Las Almas he has another problem

- he forgot to buy the decorations

- but it’s already too late to buy ones

- so it’s on you both to find stuff to decorate the tree with

- he asks his mom, to get at least some Christmas bulbs

- after the successful hunt he goes back to you

- but seeing that you already made decoration on your own makes him wanna drop the bulbs into the trash

- you put pictures of him and you, your friends his team, his family and yours into little frames so that you could hang them on the tree

- you also used some other stuff to make little snowman’s (you made them out of tissues) and some other stuff just like little presents

- Rodolfo even brought stuff from his home to Alejandro and yours

- in the end every single one of his teammates brought something for the tree

- it’s so full of stuff in the end it’s more decorating than tree

- so your Christmas tree may not look like the traditional one but it’s in the end it’s much more personal

- so while cuddling on the couch you both admirers the tree

- also when the others of his team come for a quick hello they also look at the tree

Price:

- he likes it traditional so do decorate a tree is an absolutely go

- he also has decorations so you don’t have to worry about it

- you bring your own decoration with you? Even better!

- listing to slow Christmas songs while you’re decorating the tree

- he randomly stops putting the decorations up to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you to his chest to give you a kiss on the forehead or the lips

- nothing hot, just a small gesture to show you how much he loves you

- he even randomly lifts you up while you struggle to put some decoration up so that you can reach it

- no matter how much you weigh, he’s strong enough

- don’t complain, it would be the same to just talk to a wall

- he also just sits himself on the couch, watching you how you do your work

- he admirers you

- look how beautiful you look while you put the decoration up

- your smile, the little huffs whenever something doesn’t work like you want it

- or the way you mumble to yourself if that looks good or not

- he just loves to watch you, it eases his nerves and for a moment he can forget about all the stuff he’s gone through and about the stuff he will go through

- the moment you’re finished with decorating the tree he pulls you onto his lap

- stroking carefully circles into your waist with his thumbs, kissing your neck and chest area while mumbling how beautiful you are

- he knows it’s a bit to early so he doesn’t tell you what’s on his mind

- but he definitely wants the next Christmas with tree persons instead of two

Gaz

- to put Christmas stuff up with him his pain in the ass

- to also decorate a Christmas tree is even worse

- he complains a lot

- hes even worse than ghost

- not because he hates Christmas

- no

- he complains because he wants to make it perfect

- that’s why you both are arguing a lot

- he wants red Christmas bulbs

- but you want silver ones

- he wants yellow fairy lights

- you want rainbow ones

- in the end and after a lot of arguing you both decide on buying two trees so everybody can have it’s own

- he watches you while you put your decorations up

- he looks at his

- that doesn’t feel right, isn’t Christmas about love?

- he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you against his chest and asks you if you don’t want to mix the decorations

- you’re ofc not really happy cause you wanted that, but he refused

- but it’s Christmas time, so you suck it up and agree

- after that everything is good

- you both enjoy each other’s decorations and in the end you both are sitting on the couch, giggling about the two trees

- every single soul that visits you both are confused because of the two trees

- you don’t give them answers and just grin over the comments

Rodolfo

- he has everything prepared

- he asks the cop friend from Alejandro for a big and beautiful Christmas tree

- he doesn’t bother to drive to the us by himself, just asks Alejandro to bring his tree along

- you give Alejandro and his s/o a cake as a thank you

- after that there’s nothing that can stop your hubby from decorating the tree with you

- he doesn’t give a fuck if it doesn’t look perfect

- he wants it to be special cause you both decorated it together

- he gives you a lot of kisses while you both are working on the tree

- praises too

- “Eso se ve tan bonito, cariño, pero no tan bonito como tú.” (That looks so pretty, honey, but not as pretty as you.) (oh an I’m sorry if it’s wrong, I’m still learning Spanish )

- he helps you reach the top so that you can put up the angle/star/ or whatever you want

- he sings along to every Christmas song that comes up

- he’s a pretty good singer too

- his voice goes a darker than his normal voice, but it sounds good, very good

- after you both are done with decorating he pulls you to him

- gently stroking over your cheek with his thumb before asking if he’s allowed to kiss you

- if he is allowed he’ll kiss you like it would be the last time

- it’s certainly not the last time, cause he will kiss you like ten tausend times more (on the same day)

- he wants to cuddle with you after that

- together with a hot chocolate and a Christmas movie

- perfect little evening for him and you

Valeria

- na forget it

- she hates Christmas

- she doesn’t if you like it

- well she doesn’t stop hating it she just tolerates it

- so if you want Christmas decorations you have to be on your knees, begging that she allows it

- and oh she will if you beg right

- if you’re being a good little one she gives whatever you want

- but she’s also a bastard, so expect to do a lot of things to get what you want

- after that she brings you the biggest and most beautiful tree her men could find for you

- she doesn’t understand why you have to decorate it too

- it’s a tree, nothing will change that so why putting stuff on it

- Santa doesn’t bring you gifts, she does

- the decorations she gives you are not quite normal tho

- but in the end she breaks in and give you what you want

- if you ask her if she wants to join you she looks at you like you just told her that you’re a 22 feet robot alien

- she tells you that she doesn’t want too and just sits herself on the couch while you do your work

- she watches you, smiling to yourself while you put the decoration up

- but something doesn’t seem right so she goes to you, wraps her arms around your waist and pulls you to her

- “ you seem sad cariño, you really want me to join you?”

- after you nod she just scoffs and joins you

- after good two hours you’re finished with decorating

- she grabs your wrist, pulling you onto her lap just to kiss you

- grinning like the absolutely maniac she is

- you’re so innocent and yet you wanted her to join your little Christmas tradition

- how cute

Laswell:

- she wasn’t always a fan of Christmas

- but that changed when you came into her life

- she now has a reason to celebrate it

- she doesn’t have a lot of Christmas stuff, most of it belonged to her mother that already passed

- she wouldn’t ask you to put that old stuff up, but it means a lot to her so if you ask her if you can put it on the tree she falls even more in love with you

- hot chocolate while decorating the tree? Absolutely yes

- she makes the best hot chocolate you can imagine

- kissing your cheek while putting another Christmas bulb on the tree is also a definitely a yes

- you hung up a little skull, a fake cigar, a bar of soap, a little teddy and a cowboy hat

- all the things that reminds her of her lovely little men

- she loves it

- even send a picture to each person

- while Gaz, Soap and both Alejandro and Rudy loved it

- Price only responded with “such a good kid, give it a pet from me”

- while ghost ghosted you (secretly he loves it that you did something like that)

- but back to decorate it

- she helps you to put the top on it

- after that you both are cuddling together on the couch

- expect a lot of kisses

Graves

- he loves Christmas

- and he loves you

- he’s the first one to ask you if you want to put the decoration up

- but first you need a tree

- he takes you with him to buy the tree

- your house is big

- like fucking huge cause not only does he make a good amount of money but also comes from a very wealthy family

- so the tree you bought is a monster

- you need a ladder to reach the top and to put the other decoration up

- he helds your waist while you put the star on the top

- he also loves to sing to Christmas songs with you

- he even gets a little to exited so he just takes both of your hands and dances with you while singing

- he’s pretty good in both too

- you just fall for him again

- his blue eyes looking at your ones like your the most beautiful and most valuable thing in the world

- he even made two Christmas bulbs for you and him

- both have a picture of you both on it

- but one is kinda different

- in the inside of one his a ring

- you don’t know about it tho

- but he will propose with that ring

- he knows your clumsy so the moment you trip over a carton with Christmas decorations and coincidentally smash the right one you’re instantly sorry

- he’s not

- but the only thing you see in that moment is that you broke one of the gifts he gave you

- till the moment he kneels in front of you and the shards, picking the ring up

- maybe in a few years you will find a note in it, asking you if you want to have kids with him

- but for this year it’s only the propose

König:

- he doesn’t like Christmas HE LOVES IT

- expect him to have everything you heart could desire

- he buys the biggest Christmas tree he could find

- watch him bring it into your shared home

- he carries it like the tree would weight a couple of grapes

- you can’t even push it

- he doesn’t care if it doesn’t look perfect, just put everything you want on it wherever you want it

- he lifts you up so you can reach the top

- if your clumsy he makes sure that you don’t hurt yourself while decorating

- if you ask him to put something specific on the tree he will do it

- you made two little figures? One that looks like him, the other that looks like you? He puts it so that everyone can see this masterpiece

- the tree is so full of decorations, you can barely see the tree

- he loves it, you do too

- but don’t get me wrong

- if you have the fairy lights on, you definitely don’t need any other light

- bright as the fricking day

- he gets exited to search for the Christmas pickle

- you don’t get it but you love it cause he loves it

- he accidentally knocks the tree over a couple of times

- good thing

- everything is made out of plastic (not the tree)

- so nothing breaks

- you made sure that nothing is made out of glass for that reason

#call of duty modern warfare #john mctavish #mw ghost x reader #phillip graves x you #soap x reader #modern warfare headcanons #soap mctavish #alejandro vargas mw2 #phillip graves headcanon #alejandro vargas x reader #ghost headcanons #phillip graves x reader #alejandro vargas x you #laswell x reader #Kate laswell x Reader #gaz garrick x you #gaz garrick x reader #captain price headcanon #price x reader #valeria garza x reader #valeria mw2 #soap john mctavish #rodolfo parra x reader #alejandro vargas headcanons #ghost x reader #modern warfare 2 headcanons #modern warfare stories #x reader #modern #könig x reader

[gasolinerainbowpuddles]

𝕂𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕥𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕣 🎃💦 ∘₊✧ 𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝟡 ✧₊∘

|| ︶꒦꒷𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕥𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕣 𝕞𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥꒷꒦︶ | main masterlist ||

@absurdthirst's Kinktober 2023 Prompts

Day 9: Slutwear, Squirting/Cumshots, Prostitution/Camming/Sex-for-Service

𝐀 𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐩-𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐚𝐥

| PAIRING(s): neighbor!Joel x haunted house organizer!neighbor | RATING: explicit material | 18+| WORD COUNT: 3.2k (jfc this one really got away from me) | CONTENT: no outbreak AU // we're gonna assume Sarah is old enough to be out of the house, two spooky idiots vibing with each other, mock arrangement of sexual favors for Halloween props | SYNOPSIS: In the 5th year of running your free to the neighborhood haunted house, your contractor neighbor Joel Miller expresses interest in participating.

The garage door was open, but Joel still knocked. “Hello?”

When you didn’t answer, he tried again. A few heavier knocks later and he heard footsteps scrambling his direction. You emerged from the doorway with strands of hair stuck to your forehead and a single overall strap securely snapped. He avoided looking at your tight sports bra underneath, for the most part.

“Hi, I’m so sorry. I was sanding something and didn’t hear you at first, I don’t think,” you greet him breathlessly.

“Nah, you’re fine, you’re fine,” he waves away your fretting. “Figured you’d be workin’ on somethin’ for all this.” He eyes the transformation in progress. He reaches out to tap one of the ghoul’s sinister, bony fingers from where it floats on the ceiling.

“Oh, yeah. It’s always sort of crazy this time of year,” you admit with a shy grin. “I, uh, I can move my car from the street if it’s–”

“Nah, I ain’t one of those,” he laughs. “Just always been curious to get a closer look. Seen you workin’ on this over the years. Real impressive stuff.”

You perk up at the positive feedback and note the “Miller Contracting” t-shirt that fits incredibly well across his broad chest. “Oh. Well, thanks. Sorry about the car thing. It’s not like you seem like a party pooper or something, it’s just—”

He waves his hand to interrupt you again. “I know some of the neighbors aren’t crazy about it. Fuck ‘em.”

Your smile goes ear to ear at the easy way he makes you feel confident in your not so typical hobby of having an open haunted house, free of charge to the entire neighborhood every year. It had started out with just your garage and backyard serving as a short walk-through haunted house, but now in your 5th year you’ve incorporated a few of your downstairs rooms into the layout. You slowly added new pieces and props over time, and it had become a huge point of pride for you to see the smiling faces and hear the shrill, excited screams of the patrons.

“Did you, um, want a look around? Have you ever done the haunted house?”

Joel relaxes his shoulders but insists he doesn’t want to impose. You insist right back that he’s more than welcome to see what you’ve got going on. You point to his shirt. “Could probably give me a few tips!”

He follows you as you start to walk into the house again. “Yeah, ‘bout that. Actually sorta why I thought of comin’ by….”

You turn to read his face, but can’t think past the infuriatingly adorable tinge of pink on his cheeks. 

“I, uh, would love to make ya somethin’. A prop or somethin’. I’m pretty decent with woodwork, and I think it’s pretty neat what’cha got goin’ on here.” He shrugs, but it doesn’t counterbalance his obvious nerves at offering up his services.

“Are you serious?” you breathe. “You’d make me something? I mean, you really don’t have to do that, but I can’t say it doesn’t sound fucking amazing.”

You’d seen his house before. You’d driven by it enough times to gawk at the beautiful renovations that had been done over time. It was the most gorgeous house on the street by leaps and bounds, and the owner and crafter of said renovations wasn’t so bad to look at, either. You realize you don’t know his name. You offer him yours and hope he’ll return the gesture.

“Joel,” he says firmly. Even his voice sounded deep and strong. He was even more gorgeous up close.

“Joel Miller, of Miller Contracting fame,” you amend with a playful smile and a nod to his shirt.

“The one and only,” he lobs back with a devastating smirk. Oh, the bastard was getting more comfortable around you, so now he was easing into a laid back confidence that made you want to gnaw your own arm off.

“I mean, I’d offer you some complimentary tickets to the haunted house in return, but it’s already free, so….”

He laughs under his breath and shakes his head. “No, no, none’uh that. This is somethin’ I’ve been kickin’ around for the past coupl’a years. Think it sounds real fun. Never really built a dedicated prop piece, but I’d love to take a crack at it if you’d let me.”

Your heart leaps into your throat when he admits he’s thought about your haunted house for years. That he’s wanted to be a part of it in a way for years. It was something born of pure passion and love for Halloween as well as something to nurture your creative side. The thought of Joel wanting in on it made your chest squeeze and balloon.

The rest of the afternoon flows easy with conversation and ideas about additions to your setup. It’s less than a week later when Joel texts you that the piece is almost done if you wanted to come check it out. You force yourself to wait at least 2 minutes before replying in the affirmative.

Joel’s house is even more stunning on the inside. You aren’t sure what stars aligned to get this man to offer you a prop piece at absolutely no cost. You feel like the luckiest person to ever walk the earth. You casually sip the beer Joel offered you while he details all the insanely detailed and impressive work he put into the prop piece he dreamt up with you.

“S’not too shabby, I think,” he nods in approval as he gauges his work. His eyes flash to yours when you don’t respond right away. You’re staring open mouthed at the piece, the shifting gears, the working levers. You can’t even imagine how much something like this would cost at a home improvement store.

“Show me again,” you urge with barely contained glee.

Joel smiles and snaps the lever down, releasing the guillotine and severing the dummy head into the basket. You legitimately clap this time and bob on the tips of your toes. His grin is wide and boyish as he taps a button on the floor with his foot, reeling everything back into place.

“I–I can’t even—HOLY SHIT, JOEL,” you laugh. You run your hands through your hair like you don’t even know what else to do, how else to react.

“Hope it’s not too tall for the–”

“Shutup, Joel, you know it isn’t too tall. You measured, like, 400 times,” you interject.

“I measured three times, but alright,” he chuckles. He looks back and forth between you and the prop. “So, you, uh.. It’s good? Ya like it?”

“It’s amazing!” you gush. A thought crosses your mind that immediately sets off a whole other level of excitement. “Joel, what would you say to operating this opening night at the very least?”

“What? Like, be part of the haunted house? I dunno ‘bout all that,” he mumbles.

“This thing is a work of art! Are you kidding me?! If anybody should be the first to terrorize people with it, it should be the person who made it!” you argue. You stomp across the room and stop dead center in front of Joel. “Seriously. It would be so much fun! You said you’d done the walk-through last year, so you know what you’re getting yourself in to – at least a little bit.”

“You seriously want an old guy like me tryna yank this lever and scare people? I’m more like’tuh throw my damn back out than scare anybody off,” he huffs in a self-deprecating tone.

“Joel,” you snort. “You’re built like a fucking brick shithouse. You’re broad as hell, and you’ve got muscles and all that shit. You’re, like, perfectly intimidating. Put you in an Executioner’s mask, and it’s a done deal!”

Joel smirks and raises a brow. “You think I’m muscular and strong, huh?” he teases.

You flush and swat his arm. “This is the thanks I get for trying to encourage you.”

“Said somethin’ about bein’ broad, too, didn’t’cha?” he adds as he bites back a smile.

“I’m just trying to flatter you so you’ll make me more free props,” you deadpan.

Joel coughs up his sip of beer in a laugh. “Damn, maybe I should make you pay for this after all,” he muses in false contemplation.

“Hey now, let’s not get hasty,” you giggle. You put your hands out to your sides in mock surrender.

“Typical. Shoulda known I was gettin’ fleeced. Suddenly it’s a ‘you scratch my back, and I’ll scratch yours’ kinda deal, huh?,” he teases.

“Nobody is conning anybody. You scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours! You give me a head—” you pat the decapitated prop head for emphasis “—I’ll give you head!”

Joel’s eyes widen with an amused sparkle. His eyebrows shot up at the same time as the corner of his mouth lifted devilishly. “Well now we’re talkin’!” he chortles.

Your face is on fire. You must have gone through every shade of red that Crayola has created. “Ohhh my god. Jesus christ. OH MY GOD, please— I’m so– I can’t–,” you sputter. You slap a hand over your forehead. “That was so fucking embarrassing and inappropriate. Joel, I’m so sorry. I can’t believe—”

“Whoa now, relax. S’alright. Just a bit of teasin’,” he reassures you once he realizes you’re actually mortified at the half slip-up half failed attempt at humor. “S’all in good fun, okay? No need to get bent outta shape.”

You chance a look at him with an absolutely humiliated expression and find his playfully warm eyes waiting for you.

“C’mon, don’t be like that,” he tuts and knocks a hand against your arm gently. “Was funny as hell. Needed a good laugh, so thanks for that, sweetheart.”

As if your face wasn’t already ablaze, the casual petname makes your heart stammer. You were not going to survive this man.

“Alright, everybody, we got a 20 minute interval, so get yourself some water and a quick snack if you need one,” you announce to the group of volunteers. Frightening clowns and ghostly figures waddle and stroll into the inner rooms of the house not being utilized in the haunted house.

You glance around only to find Joel doing the same. You smile and walk up to him.

“So the girls didn’t talk you into the shirtless get-up, huh?” you giggle.

Joel rolls his eyes through the black mask obscuring his face.

“So, is Mister ‘I’ve scared more kids in one night than any other scene volunteer in the past 4 years combined’ enjoying himself? Or do you need to make a couple more 12 year olds pee their pants before you’re ready to admit it?”

Joel lifts the fabric mask over his head and grins at you. “Like you’d give me all that credit. Already heard you earlier talkin’ ‘bout how I got the ‘good corner’ that’s out of sight until it’s too late.”

“Yeah, that’s true. Probably would’ve only made two 12 year old piss themselves so far if you weren’t given the good corner,” you shrug. “Oh well, that’s what special treatment gets ya.”

He laughs and runs a hand through his sweaty hair. Your stomach lurches with want.

“So am I hired or what?” 

“Hired? Hm, no, that implies pay, and you’re not getting paid,” you reason with a giggle.

“Damn. Free props and free labor. I’m gettin’ the short end of the stick, I think,” he mock gripes.

You feel a twinge of guilt even though you know he’s joking. He had already supplied you with an amazing element for the haunted house, and you’d sort of strong-armed him into acting in one of the sets tonight. “You know if you really did end up feeling like you should get some sort of compensation, I’m sure I could come up with, like, a payment plan or something,” you offer.

“Dunno, I’m still pretty interested in that offer of head,” he quips.

Your head inches back in a jerk as you snort in surprise. “Oh?”

Joel instantly shifts into apology mode and expresses his regret at the tasteless joke.

You put up a hand to stop his frenzied blabbering. His mouth hangs open with panic, but he stops talking. You force a swallow past the ball of nerves in your throat and inch closer to him. You graze the tips of your fingers against the shiny polyester costume stretching across his chest.

“What if… what if I was interested in getting to know you better? In the kinda way that that joke about … ‘scratching each other’s backs’  isn’t really a joke?” You fan your fingers across his pec and work up the nerve to look up at him.

His dark eyes study your face for a moment before a hand snakes across your lower back and pulls you closer. “Then I’d say you got yourself a pro bono prop master and scene volunteer, sweetheart.”

You break into a nervous fit of giggles and glance at the clock. Only 15 minutes until everyone is due back to their places. “Come with me,” you whisper. You grab Joel’s hand and lead him upstairs via the rear staircase. You guide him through the dark and into your bedroom.

The moment the backs of your knees hit the mattress, you tug Joel down on top of you. He settles onto the bed with an oomph and quickly gains his bearings. His hands are all over you, and you thank the high heavens that neither of you are wearing any face makeup for a costume. One less thing to worry about as you hungrily lick into one another’s mouths.

You turn Joel onto his back against the mattress and tug at his garments until you shimmy his belt and jeans loose. He shoves them down enough to free his cock. It stands at attention with a weighty bob.

“Fuck,” you gasp. “I would’ve done this sooner if I knew you had such a big dick!”

Joel erupts into laughter at your lewd candor, and you giggle while shushing him. “Shutup before somebody hears us and comes upstairs to check on the noise. I’ve only got about 10 minutes to suck you off.”

“Fuck, you really doin’ it? You don’t hafta–”

You cut him off by taking him as far into your mouth as you can. He makes a strangled hissing sound, his arms flailing as they search for something to grab hold of. One hand settles on the back of your head, and the other grips the sheets. You shove a hand down your pants and insert two fingers into yourself. Joel made the most obscenely divine noises you’d ever heard.

You don’t let up as you work his length in your mouth, not quite able to take him all the way without your gag reflex going into overdrive. He gives you a few polite seconds of warning that he’s about to come, and you ready your mouth at his tip while stroking him up to his climax. His hips jerk as he unloads into your mouth, grunting obscenities and praises.

You swallow and pull off him with a smug grin. You watch him catch his breath in the rays of light from the streetlamps. You shimmy back up to his face and capture his mouth in a deep kiss. He groans at the taste of himself on your lips, groping and grabbing at you. He rolls you off to the side and yanks your pants down without warning. His fingers slide through your soaked folds before pausing at your entrance.

“Fuck, yes please,” you beg. He stretches you with two fingers and only pumps a few times before you’re clenching around his digits. You come down from your high enough to realize it’s not long before you need to be back downstairs. “Should at least earn me a couple of smaller props, no?” you pant.

He snorts and rests his forehead against your chest. “Guess we can work out a bartering system,” he jokes back.

You both take a moment to get yourself together before heading back downstairs. The rest of the night is an absolute blast, and you revel in the excited compliments over your newest addition of the Cursed Souls of the French Revolution room, many comments centering on a certain terrifying Executioner who was very good at his role.

The last walk-through group empties out onto the street, and you close up for the night. Another successful event with a few more nights this week to show off your best haunted house yet. When the last volunteer other than Joel heads out, you turn to shower your breakout star with all the feedback and fanfare he’d garnered.

He’s slow to accept the praise, but after a while you beat him down enough to accept a few of the milder compliments. You sit side by side on the couch, watching a classic horror film as you count up the donations you’d earned throughout the evening. You count the last bill and tally it up on your sheet before tucking it away in the metal cash box.

Joel grips an arm around you and tugs you into his chest. “Got enough for your next big idea, or are we gonna have to figure out another form of payment?” he asks with a suggestive wink.

“Think I came up short on the cash. Damn,” you mutter in feigned disappointment.

Joel grins at your tongue-in-cheek humor but pauses after a moment. “Thank you, by the way. For lettin’ me join up with all this. It was really fun. Not used’tuh doin’ stuff like this, but I’m real glad I worked up the nerve to walk up to your garage that day,” he admits in earnest.

“Yeah,” you agree with a breathy laugh. “Me, too, Joel.”

His thumb caresses the top of your cheekbone as he considers you. “Meant when I said I’d like’tuh get to get more involved with it. With… with you,” he stammers.

Your chest feels warm and cozy. You can’t help yourself with what comes out of your mouth next. “Is this your way of asking me to be your ghoul-friend?”

Joel shuts his eyes and throws his head against the top of the couch. “Now I know I’ve got it bad for ya when that ain’t enough to send me hightailin’ it outta here,” he groans.

“Okay, you do one to me and see if I’ve got it bad for you, too,” you suggest.

Joel thinks for a moment then grins to himself. He turns his head your direction and delivers a classic. “If you’re my ghoul-friend, does that mean I get to see your boo-bies?”

You both lose it over the awful jokes and barely manage to get yourselves back under control long enough to speak full sentences again.

“Okay, it’s official. We’ve both got it very, very bad for each other,” you declare as you wipe a tear from your eye.

“Guess I’ll just have to live with that,” he says softly.

“Yeah, guess we’ll both just have to learn to deal with it,” you chuckle under your breath.

The rest of the movie plays to a distracted audience as you and Joel mess around on the couch well past the credits rolling across the screen.

This was way too much fun to write. I hope y'all don't mind me playing fast and loose with some of these kinks lmao.

This idea originally came from some Joel characterization ideas that I guess made quite the impression on me. This particular fic drew inspiration from my last idea on the list:

🛠 🪵 🎃 prop maker Joel who admires your open to the public haunted house you construct every year. he offers to make you a prop piece, free of charge. you both love Halloween.

The temptation to write more of those silly ideas into my kinktober shit is super strong ngl. Whatever you do, don't encourage it. Don't you dare suggest I make a poll for which character should get which trope. DON'T YOU DARE.

catch ya later, ♥Puddles♥

#joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller tlou #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters

[bumblesimagines]

Ez Reyes

can i buy you a drink? for old times' sake?

you were never there for me.

i don't love you anymore.

can i buy you a drink? for old times' sake?

you were never there for me.

i don't love you anymore.

Pronouns: They/Them/Theirs, Gender Neutral!Reader

"You better not forget about us, Beverly Hills." You felt Bishop clap his hand over your shoulder, a big friendly grin stretched out across his face. You rolled your eyes at his words but couldn't help the giddy smile from spreading across your face, especially with all the supportive Mayans you viewed as uncles and brothers looking just as thrilled as your own father. 

"Well, I have to finish packing, but I'll drop by later." You told them, feeling Bishop playfully shake your shoulder before you stepped toward Riz. Your father pecked the top of your head and pinched your cheek, snickering to himself when you swatted at his wrist with a huff and an eye roll. 

"Don't stay out too late with your friends, 'ight?" Riz called as you headed toward the door, chuckles spreading throughout the bar when you shot him a glare over your shoulder. No matter how old you got, he still took it upon himself to embarrass you in front of others every chance he got. 

Opening the door and throwing one last wave over your shoulder, you stepped out of the clubhouse and headed down the rickety steps. You reached into the pocket of your jacket, feeling around for your keys but your attention turned away from your parked car when the gate slid open and two motorcycles rolled in. Ah, fuck. You bit the inside of your cheek and pulled the keys free from your pocket but just as you pressed down to unlock the car, you heard it:

"Aye, (Y/N)!" 

"Fuck," You sighed and turned around, planting a polite smile on your face while you waited for Angel and Ezekiel to finish taking off their helmets. Angel moved first and the only thing you saw before he tugged you into a tight embrace was his big dorky grin. You could smell the cigarette smoke reeking off him and grunted, hoping the smell wouldn't cling to your clothes. "Hey, Angel."

"Hey yourself, Beverly Hills." Angel laughed as he pulled away.

"I'm not even going to Beverly Hills." You groaned. "The new place isn't anywhere near there!"

"But with that fancy new job, you'll live there someday, right? You better tell the pretty girls about the attractive biker down in Santo Padre." Angel said, pushing his sunglasses up to rest atop his slicked-back hair. "Make sure to tell 'em he's funny and hot and-"

"Yeah, yeah, I'll tell them all about Coco." You grinned when he clicked his tongue and lightly pushed your shoulder with his fist, his eyes rolling dramatically. He glanced over his shoulder at his younger brother and glanced back at you, wiggling his brows and smirking before he spun on his heels and headed into the clubhouse. 

"Hey." Ezekiel greeted gently, tugging his gloves off his hands and offering a sweet smile. You remembered a time when just his smile would make you weak at the knees and giggle like a lovesick idiot. But it only filled you with bitterness looking at it now. His tongue darted out, wetting his lips as he glanced toward your car. "Leaving so soon?"

"I gotta finish packing." You answered.

"Ah, right, you got a new job away from here, right? I'm happy for you. It's hard leaving this place, take it from me." Ezekiel sighed heavily, stuffing his gloves into the pocket of his jeans and curling his fingers around the front of his kutte. "Listen, (Y/N)... can I buy you a drink? For old times' sake? I always miss you every time you visit. Thought it'd be nice to catch up with you."

You inhaled deeply, eyes flickering toward the clubhouse when the Mayans inside cracked up with laughter at some unheard joke or story. It'd been nearly two years since you'd last seen Ezekiel Reyes face to face and spoken with him. Two long years since you'd stood in his trailer with tears in your eyes while he kept his head bowed, never uttering a single word as you tore into him. You'd broken up with him when he couldn't promise to keep his distance from Emily Galindo, a married woman bound to be his demise. He'd called and called but you ignored him until Riz stepped in and forced him to back off.

"No, thanks, Ezekiel. I have nothing to say to you if I'm honest. Everything I did want to say was said years ago. I hope you're doing well but you were never there for me when we were dating so why would I need you as a friend? You showed me how conditional your loyalty was." You told him and turned away from him, heading toward your car and opening the door. Ezekiel followed because being stubborn ran in the Reyes family, and reached out to cup your elbow.

"I know, I'm sorry. I fucked up. I... I have no excuses, (Y/N). I miss you. I miss us. I miss what we have and what we could've had-"

"I don't love you anymore." You told him bluntly, watching his face crumble in a matter of seconds. He released your elbow and stepped back, his gaze dropping onto the ground and lips pressing tightly together. "That love faded a long time ago, Ezekiel. It's best if you forget about us... 'cause it's never happening again."

#x reader #x you #x y/n #x male reader #x female reader #x gender neutral reader #mayans mc #mayans fx #mayans mc x reader #mayans mc x male reader #mayans mc x you #mayans mc x y/n #mayans mc x female reader #mayans mc x fem reader #mayans mc x gender neutral reader #bishop losa #angel reyes #Michael 'Riz' Ariza #mayans mc riz #ezekiel reyes #ezekiel reyes x reader #ezekiel reyes x male reader #ezekiel reyes x fem reader #ez reyes #ez reyes x reader #ez reyes x male reader #ez reyes x fem reader #ez reyes x gender neutral reader #ezekiel reyes x gender neutral reader

[littlelesbinonny]

The Devil's Den

Chapter 41: In Which The Daylight Is Dawning Pt. 2

You can read this also on Ao3 at: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46831621/chapters/117962293

Donna was frozen in place. She knew Karl was still holding onto her but she couldn't comprehend it. All she could see was the trail of blood on the ground where Alcina had been drug to her fate. Every single event was replaying slow motion over and over again in her brain. She had been so lost in thought she hadn't noticed everyone filing out of the hall and back into the city, leaving the few who were brave enough to show their remaining loyalty to Alcina lingering just as still and silent as she was.

"D - "

A voice said in her ear.

"D! You gotta snap out of it - D."

Her dark brown eyes on the verge of spilling tears finally looked over to find Karl, his face just as riddled with grief but definitely more rage than she had ever seen.

"I..." she mustered, "we - the - we -" 

Donna couldn't even form a coherent sentence, she was too overcome with shock she brought her palms up and buried her face. Karl's warm, secure embrace was quite literally the only thing holding her together.

Without Alcina, their fight was over. No one would unite without her. None of the pitiful fucking vampires would act on their own! Her only hope was the lycans, who would be gnashing to fight, she had no doubt. The underworlds only hope now was the lycans. And that was fine with her. But they had to do something and they had to do it fast. She had to snap out of it!

She broke away from Karl momentarily and was about to whisper her hasty plan to him, but that chilling presence she hated now more than ever invaded her space.

"Donna, my dear!" Came Miranda's cool voice, "I have some pressing business that needs attending to, but I will send for you later as we have much to discuss," she smiled, "and Karl, I will require your time here very shortly as well - and try not to get into any trouble in the meantime. My soldiers have direct orders to destroy anyone who steps out of line... you've seen the damage they do. Please don't be stupid. I'd rather not lose either of you to fruitless defiance."

Karl lunged for Miranda but Donna haphazardly clambered herself nearly onto him to stop his assault as she walked away so annoyingly nonchalant.

"Don't be an idiot!" she hissed through a hushed whisper in his ear, "your shop - now!"

~

Everyone of key importance had gathered in Karl's work space: Donna, Karl himself, Dmitri, Angie, Sylvia, Mitch, Diego, Gerard, Mateo, Elina, and shockingly, Clarice from the council.

"Keep your voice down!" Donna huffed.

"I don't give a fuck what they can hear! I'm about to start poppin' bullets in every single one of their skulls!" Karl raged, pulling a new and very decently sized revolver out of his underarm and aiming it to the mutants on the other side of the thick glass, "I'll blow the underground to kingdom-fucking-come before I let this bitch take this place!"    Donna forced his arm down and grabbed the collar of his dirty, beat-up, oversized khaki colored trench coat, "will you keep your shit together! We have one fucking shot at this and we can't afford your hot-headed, bull-skulled, idiotic temper to ruin it for everyone! Alcina needs our help! We have to be smart about this!"

Angie popped a blood lollypop out of her mouth loudly and hopped her butt onto the table, shoving it right back in her cheek before reaching for Karl, "listen, my man, I've been watching these weirdos for weeks; they are brutally strong but they are fuckin' DUMB. I'm not sure what operates them but I swear to god it's not the brain in their heads. They're very easily distracted and drawn apart when psycho-whacko isn't present. The sunrise is barely hours away, we need a calculated diversion, lots of 'em - you know, bombs and stuff - and a quick moving team and we can get Alcina and her girls out with no issue at all. But that's only if Mother Fuckface isn't near."

"There's the biggest issue; Mother Miranda." Dmitri stated, his usually calm and vivid demeanor very visibly shaken by witnessing what everyone else did.

"Yeah - that -" Angie chimed back in, "she's really the messiest dingleberry. I dunno what to tell you about that one. Sheer force won't do jack shit to her with all these mutants around. She's their HBIC - it's like she thinks it and they do it - very disturbing."

"HBIC?" Clarice piped up very confused.

"Head bitch in charge." Angie clarified.

Donna huffed and rubbed her temples aggravatedly, "alright - heads down - focus! We have very little time, we've got to move quickly."

~

You felt like you were under a boulder.

It wasn't terribly bright where you were but it took all of your effort to force your eyelids open. 

The room was decently sized, wide open, the lights were dull and a light ochre color. It smelled slightly sterile but also metallic the way dried blood did. The walls were lined with shelves and storage lockers, weird glass globes and vials that made you feel like you were caught in a mad scientist movie. It was also full of all kinds of medical looking equipment, and in that instant everything that had taken place rushed back in, including that cunts words; take her to the lab, NOW!

So. This was it.

You were strangely alone. You thought that was probably not the smartest move, but then again you felt like you'd been hit by a bus. There was barely enough energy coursing through you to breath without labor.

What the fuck was around your neck and wrists? They had to be the reason for this feeling.

Using all your might, you tried to lean forward in the reclined chair you were clearly bound to to see if you could make out the heavy cuffs.

It was a dark grey material, a metal of sorts maybe? It appeared polished and looked kind of shiny, but it wasn't glowing the way Alcina's had been. 

The unlatching of a door to the right of you caught you off guard and your head snapped in that direction, a bad move as the room started to spin.

"Iron."

Came that sickening voice.

"The best raw iron one can find," Mother Miranda continued as she waltzed happily towards you, "the only real weakness to a fae like you."

...Fae? 

What?

You were finally able to get a good close look at the living terror you had envisioned killing many times before, the rage you felt twisting your lips and face into a scowl that made Miranda smirk. She might be a pretty thing if she weren't such an awful waste of air. To you she was ugly, hideous even, wearing the pain she'd caused your Alcina like a badge of honor and it made your magick spark.

"I had hoped to meet under better circumstances, but Alcina never would have allowed that to happen..."

Miranda placed her hand on your upper arm and it burned. Whether or not that was your imagination reacting out of pure spite for her or an actual sensation you weren't really sure. 

"She's very possessive, you see. She would have never shared you with me willingly."

Her smile made you want to explode.

"Though her appetite for strong blood has always been her weakness, and her strength. I could always count on her to find the most delicious humans. Granted, Madeleine was a sorry loss, truly, which I'm sure she told you all about her, and what I did... villainize me all you want, little fae, but I did what was best for her in the end."

You wanted to scream more than anything, break free and grab her face and gouge out her eyes, but you were locked in a prison of hatred that rendered you still and silent while you bickered with your inner thoughts trying to stay on top of your reactions. Then Malka's voice sounded in your ear; telling you to remain calm, to use the situation to your benefit, to store the emotions brewing inside of you because they would come in handy. So you remained quiet, letting her drawl making you angrier and angrier.

"Madeleine came from a long line of witches, I'll have you know," Miranda continued as she walked around the chair you were strapped to, heading to the side table that had a large syringe and several long vials, "but she had strayed from that path, as did her mother before her, so her blood would have been no use to me in the long run. It was too weak, her power was too weak, but it made her irresistible to our dearest Alcina."

Watching as she grabbed for the syringe, you swallowed and eyed her like a hawk, gritting and grinding your teeth with what strength you had.

"I knew what I put her through would wane her from seeking anything less than the most powerful blood until the right time came. I had no idea it would be this soon. I figured a century may pass perhaps, but here you came along... a most pleasant surprise. I thought your kind had long been lost."

Curiosity was hard to deny. You'd been searching for answers your whole life. Now you had to ask.

"What exactly are... my kind?"

Miranda's eyes gleamed, "I told you; you're a fae! Now which kind I'm not totally certain. Fae folk in the human world are the rarest, which makes you the most desirable! A fae in the olde world is too impossible to catch. They're too strong, too flighty, too unusable. But you! Your blood is some of the oldest I've ever had the privilege to come across. I'll truly enjoy my search to find your lineage, if I can, because your blood will be the striking force to begin our journey into this new age!" 

Syringe in hand, Miranda darted back to your side and examined you with fever in her eyes, her delicate fingertip tracing your face that came with a sensation of you wanting to rip yourself out of your skin.

"You will be everything I need for my new species of vampire. Your blood will make me stronger than any that have ever walked this earth before, and my children, the new breed that I will introduce, will be the perfection I have so long since desired."

You had to bite your lip as her twinkling blue eyes made your skin prickle. Keeping your head about you to continue to store this rage deep inside of you, in a nest in your core for your chance to strike was getting harder.

"The army that follows me now are less than what I desired. They are controllable, but... albeit a failed experiment. Yes, they are brutishly strong, and purely loyal to me, but... they have no mind of their own, a downside to the parasite I bred. But! It was a good start!" She grinned, "When I mutate your blood along with my parasites I hope to weed out the rest of the weaknesses that make us fallible - there will be no desire but to be beautiful and powerful. To follow me. And only me. To deny love for any, but me. To go with me to whatever end I desire... to never repeat the same mistakes I face, over and over..."

Her eyes went vacant as she stared off at the wall behind your head, the forest of thoughts she'd just gotten lost in seeming to lead her down a foggy path that blinked your existence out of the picture, and yet she kept talking.

"It was a dream my daughter and I had..." her voice dwindled to a more somber tone, "she had been so young. Twelve years old. Too young to be what she became. The years passed, and we do not change physically of course, and it becomes hard for one so young to bare the burdens of the world, to watch everything change around you when you do not when you should... Eva... my darling... she wanted to change. She wanted to change so much, but I... was able to give her everything her heart desired, but that..."

Your eyes were transfixed on this woman. Alcina told you she had never told a soul what had happened to her daughter, that everything the vampires knew about it was purely speculation, and yet here she was spilling it to you like you were a guard at the gates of heaven or hell, and she must tell her tale before she passes.

"Her beauty was unmatched. An angel, really. A young but vicious killer that gave my soul so much joy. My only absolution to the life we had no choice but to dwell within. And we... oh, we had such plans! Such visions we would share and collaborate - the future of our kind - the path we could lead - the power and control we could have! There was a future we so desired to live back amongst the humans as one! To be feared and loved and worshipped as the greater species we are! Untouched by time... illness... every little thing that defeated humans at the drop of a hat..."

Miranda looked back down at you as she seemed to come back into herself, her palm caressing your face as she sunk her sight into you, and you stilled, held your breath out of what emotion you weren't sure.

"But... we aren't as perfect as we should be. There is one, only one, illness that is our downfall. It ruins everything... every plan, ever desire, every need behind a motivation - it can be thwarted by the worst of all illnesses... do you know what that illness, that weakness is, little fae?"

You shook your head very carefully, the wild look behind her eyes making you uneasy.

"Love," she whispered, leaning into your face, "love, little fae... the worst ailment any living creature can endure! It... ruins everything!" 

Miranda leaned back up and stepped away from you with haste, pacing manically as she continued her bizarre rant. 

"It took my Eva!" She nearly shrieked, "it took her from me!" Her wild eyes went back to you as she walked back and forth across the floor, "she fell from me! Away from me! Abandoned me and our plans! Everything we were working towards - she left it all behind - dropped it like it had never meant anything, all because - all because - this - this boy! A human! A human boy she could never coexist with! She was stricken down by this folly and I lost her to it, to him!"

She was growing more and more fitful and you were trying very hard to not fear for your safety. Miranda was a loaded loose cannon, that was all too apparent.

"I - I had no choice. I had no choice, little fae. For our own betterment, for hers, I had to cure her. I had to end it. How could I possibly let this infection of love for a human taint my bloodline?! Humans would be our end! She knew this, she knew, and yet she gave in. She bowed to this weakness. And I... my reign, my dynasty, could not be tarnished. We were too far into our plan to stray. I couldn't allow it. I couldn't... and so I had to kill her, don't you see?"

She was out of her fucking mind. Absolutely mad.

"But... time marched on. I marched on. I never abandoned our plans, our hope, our desire for our kinds future. I had to abide my time. Calculate. Measure. Collect. Create. Watch. And plan. Plan, plan, plan, until the time was right."

Once more she turned to you and came to your side with a face full of psychotic hope.

"And here you are - my beacon of light! The turn of my tides! We will be great together. We will create such a dynasty that will rule this world for the rest of time, it will be marvelous! You... and me... we will change the course of the worlds future."

The fuck WE will.

You had to keep calm. You had to.

You were facing a deranged vampire who was old and powerful, but you would fight tooth and nail to make sure this plan of hers never saw the light of day. Pun intended.

Swallowing carefully, you tested the deep water you were in for your own benefit, you needed information, and more catalyst to your stash of emotion, "what have you done with Alcina?"

Mother Miranda's visage took a deep dive from hope to scrutiny, "what does it matter? She is a lost cause, as all of the vampires I have placed my hopes in have been."

"If you want my help, which I will give you, I simply ask in return that you tell me what you've done with her."

Rising slowly away from you, Miranda went back to the small table and retrieved a vial, with it and the syringe in hand, she returned and eyed you flatly, "she and her daughters will die by sunlight. I sealed them in the sun towers to burn."

There it was.

Oh that fire began to burn brightly. Now all you needed was your window of opportunity.

"You offer your alliance so willingly, I had not expected that little fae," Miranda mused as she looked down at you, calculating your words, "why?"

Fighting down your rage you locked your eyes in hers and forced a small smile, "you give me little choice. I would rather go willingly than fight you."

Her hardened facade broke into a faint grin. 

Was it that easy?

"I somehow knew I was going to like you. Fae are usually very feisty and yet you are so malleable - you are wise beyond your years! Or, perhaps, the human world has beaten you down enough to make you this compliant... either way... we really will be a great team together."

She stroked your face once more that made your insides lurch, but you held your tongue and waited less than patiently.

"Still... you will have to fully earn my trust in time. Now, hold still, I need to fill these vials so I can begin my research."

Mother Miranda reached for the heavy iron collar around your neck and snapped the latch open, pulled it from your throat and you felt the overpowering flood of everything you had been holding onto slam into you.

Show time.

All you saw was red. Rage. Alcina, on her knees and bleeding at the mercy of the woman in front of you. The shallowing of your breath was accompanied with the narrowing of your space; the honing in on everything you felt; the numb, surging, overflowing power of your need for revenge for what she'd done to Alcina, and what she had in store for the woman you loved so deeply. You couldn't fathom the future she spoke of, the terror she would instill, and you would be damned before you, or your Alcina, became the played pawns in the start of this chess match. Miranda would pay dearly. You would make certain of it.

It was hot, prickly. Seething to be released.

You harnessed your magick with all of your might; the gnashing, howling hunger to lash out giving you only a brief pause before you let it off its leash at your intended target.

The heat of this explosion of magick was so strong you felt like you could touch it. It permeated off you and hit Miranda with an invisible choking cloud.

She stumbled back, dropping her tools to the floor with a clatter as a sputtering scream began to emerge from her throat. Her hands reached for her eyes with a shaking intensity as she screamed louder and louder, her knees threatening to buckle as you forced every ounce of your hatred through her. It wasn't long before you saw trails of blood pouring down her cheeks from her eyes before she all but fell into the table, knocking it over, the glass vials shattering on impact to the floor as she struggled to get as far away from you as possible.

Miranda tumbled through the door from which she came and you jerked on your wrists with might. The iron split around your wrists without struggle and you were free. Nauseatingly light headed you headed for the door opposite of where Mother Miranda had fled and dashed as fast as your wobbly legs would take you.

The further you got into the ways of the city the more and more powerful you felt, almost like you had to collect your power back before you yourself burst. Finally, against your will, you slammed into a wall and took heavy breath after heavy breath, looking down at your open palms that felt like they were on fire. Things were beginning to spin less and less and now you could hear yelling and screaming, howling, gun shots, and what you were pretty certain were explosions. 

My hell, you were underground in the middle of a real war.

Out of the blue you heard your name behind you.

Oh fuck, oh fuck, please let this not be real. You weren't entirely sure enough on your feet yet to run. 

Hesitantly you looked over your shoulder and found a face coming at you that allowed you to relax.

"Angie," you huffed, still relying on the wall for support.

"Ho - ly shit! You escaped?!"

You nodded a little disjunct and let the familiar vampire grab hold of you, "y-yeah - Miranda - "

"Ooo shit, fuck fuck - c'mon lets get outta here!"

She scooped you up like you were just a stuffed doll and dashed down the hallway, turning here and turning there, the labyrinth of this place making you so confused you stopped trying to keep track of your surroundings until you were being set down in a dark corner of a room with several other people.

"She escaped Miranda!" Angie shouted.

Three more sets of eyes landed on you, one you recognized; Donna.

"What?!"

The burliest of them asked as he shot around from behind Donna to get a good look at you.

"I'll be fucked! Little human's got gumption! How, though?!"

"I - I'm a fae," you answered very unsure of yourself. You weren't entirely sure if that Miranda bitch was right, but somehow it made sense.

The pause made you uneasy as they all looked at you as if you'd grown a second head in the last five seconds.

"I have magick," you tried again, "I attacked her, but I don't know how much damage I did."

Donna placed her hand on her shoulder in a very comforting way, her smile was warm but it didn't last long.

"You may have bought us a large window of opportunity, my dear, thank you," she offered, "are you alright, did she harm you?"

"N-no, no she didn't hurt me - I'm ok. Where's Alcina?" you blurted.

"The Eastern sun tower, that's where we're headed now."

Said the very handsome man with the most strikingly white hair and Russian accent.

"This is Dmitri, and this is Karl," Donna relayed with haste, "and the one who brought you, this is Angie, my sister."

"Yeah, we've met before," you responded with a smile at the blonde.

Donna halted grabbing for the bag she was fuddling with, "what?"

Angie jumped in immediately, "mmmyeah, about that; that's a story for another time, we really gotta get going. The sun rose three hours ago, our time slot to rescue is cutting way too short."

"Let's go then," you butted in, feeling much more like yourself which was a great relief.

"No, no," Donna warned, "this is no place for you, dear, I don't want to risk your safety."

"Did you not hear what she just said?" Karl interjected, "little pixie dust handed Miranda's ass to her - she's comin'! We want this little magickal hot shot with us."

"We really don't have time to argue, let's go!"

Dmitri was the final say.

The rest of the way wasn't completely barren of mutants, but they seemed oddly discombobulated and killing them was easier than it should've been. 

The radio comms worn by Karl and Dmitri were going off the entire way. From what you gathered, the lycans and vampire soldiers were executing well calculated and stealthy attacks through the city, confirming your suspicions of hearing explosion earlier, which, fittingly enough continued as the three of you made your way to what was referred to as the Eastern Quarter, where the Eastern sun towers resided. 

You were privileged front row seats to watching how vampires and lycans fought. Well, Karl at least. He was manic and hasty, although swift and effective with knives and a very large gun that made easy work of skulls. There was little left remaining after the blasts but an eerie blue glowing substance that oozed from whatever body part had been obliterated. The vampires were elegant and ruthless. They preferred blades above all else and Donna, though small, was terrifyingly agile and precise in the way she killed. Angie was a lot like Karl; pure mania. Dmitri, almost robotic; blunt and brutal.

Luckily you didn't have to go up against any mutants, you were far too preoccupied with familiarizing yourself with your surroundings and getting to Alcina as quickly as possible.

A sharp turn and a steep decline on damp stone stairs led you all to your destination. 

It was eerily silent here and it made everything more dire. There were slots in the low ceiling where it met the stone wall that allowed, what you assumed to be, sunlight in. Safely enough it wouldn't harm a vampire if they didn't come too close, but in a horrifying way to let whomever was down there know that the sun was in the sky. The area was cold, and everything echoed loudly as it was quite literally a simple stone corridor with one door and two exits, the one you came from and the one that had dried blood leading to a very lonely door.

But there was no longer a door there.

The barely six foot tall archway had been cemented shut. 

At some point during the night Alcina and her girls had fallen into a dreamless, slumber-like state. The frigid cold keeping them stored motionless and thoughtless until the impending white light of their looming fate began to spill over into the silo.

Bela was the first to wake.

She was stiff and so cold that when she peered gingerly towards where they all rest with their fingers still touching their mothers, she realized that their digits had turned completely grey. Void of all color or circulation.

It was then the shock and panic of realization that light was filling the silo, that Bela used all her might to push from the stinging cold floor and assess the situation.

Her wide eyes peered up to see the crescent moon of sunlight was growing larger and larger at the very top of the silo walls.

The sunlight was coming, death was coming. Help, was not.

Severity set in.

"Mother," her raw voice rasped, "mother please, wake up - wake up! Sisters! Get up!"

Their movements were just as slow as hers but they joined her, sitting up and leaning into the cold brick of the wall, eyes flying from the blue sky above to their mother who still lay completely unresponsive.

"Mother! Mother, please!" Bela called once more.

Daniela and Cassandra reached for each other, then Bela, trying to pull on their chains once more to see if by any mishap of fate they could break free. But they could not. They were too weak and it was too late.

The light melted down the brick above further and further as the moments passed, and the girls took to holding onto each other instead, inching as far from the wall as possible to give them any more time that might be possible before death seared them.

"M-mother - " Dani whined, "wake up... the sun! Please!"

Still, nothing.

Cassandra held fast to her sisters and brought their attention to her, the most somber expression they'd ever seen taking her beautiful face. She shook her head, accepting the fate that had befallen them, refusing to let it end without expressing the love she never truly said out loud, with actions.

So there, in the chilling wake of the sunlight, Cassandra, Bela, and Daniela held each other in an embrace of sisterhood as they braved their fears for what was to come.

Staring up at the sky, they waited for it all to end.

#alcina dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu/female reader #alcina dimitrescu/original female character #alcina dimitrescu/reader #lesbian #f/f #fanfic #wlw #fic #donna beneviento #karl heisenberg #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu

[ashersanity]

Being told the way I type sounds comforting, that's so sweet! Thank you pookie ૮( ⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝)ა

I saw your post about your yandere PC's, take this as an invitation to write about them! I'm interested to know about them, what they're like, who they are ˊᵕˋ write about whatever you'd like! also I think the hate to love pipeline because Whitney was occasionally soft has some reflection of stockholm syndrome but it's okay! I'm sure he has more redeeming qualities outside of that! (??)

I don’t usually like the word pookie but the way you say it just makes me feel all warm inside, wtf. like a soft gooey peanut butter cookie melting in your mouth. that was oddly specific.

YEAH, YEAH!! THANKS!! IM DEFINITELY GOING TO DO THE YANDERE PC POST! I’m gonna ramble about them so hard that people need to physically shut me up, too many swirling thoughts, so much lore to uncover. glad at least a few people have taken interest in them. I’m doing it for every single one of you and myself. expect the worst though, they’re fucking crazy.

the hating whitney to loving whitney pipeline is so real.. hit me like a ton of bricks when I finally realized that they’re my fav char after all this time, still new to the dol fandom, but didn’t even know they could be a LI at the time that I played (I started playing last summer, in july) you calling it stockholm syndrome might be right. it’s pretty complicated, ping ponging wildly between detesting their guts and loving them. more like a sort of ‘I wanna fuck ‘em bent over the desk till they’re begging and crying for me to stop’, y’know? aggressive love-hate relationship going on.

going to list a few things in the game, general game mechanics that vrel applied to whitney that makes me love them all the more. (maybe I might even convince you? no way)

low love! whitney who’s known for skipping and never coming to class, all time delinquent because why should they? it’s a waste of time being there, sat at the back with another crumpled up paper in their hand, occasionally coming to just get on your nerves. purposely kicking at the back of your chair, shooting you that shit-eating grin of their own whenever you turn back to glance at them, clearly irritated with their antics.

high love! whitney who’s not missing any goddamn math class anymore, solely going there for your presence, pushing past a student to take the seat next to you. doesn’t care for river’s flat, monotone voice droning away about whatever bullshit equation on the board. no, their gaze is set on you, the bully who’s known for never even bothering with school, soft strands of hair curled around their finger, idly twirling it around. their friends always questioning why the hell they’re going every single time, the blond fipping them off as they stride away towards class. they’re here to see their favorite slut, isn’t it obvious? idiot.

low love! whitney who doesn’t do any of that weird, soft, intimate crap with you whenever you two are fucking on a desk, hallways, school gates, y’know.. it’s wherever with that bitch. always pulls away when you tentatively reach for their fingers to intertwine with your own, annoyed look on the delinquent’s face for even trying that shit with them. I’m serious, they don’t allow pc to hold hands or kiss them during an encounter when they’re not a LI, I checked.

high love! whitney who’s actually the one to initiate these kinds of things, face moving closer to yours, pressing soft, gentle kisses all over your lips, relishing in the taste left on their tongue. letting you hold each other’s hand as you two go at it on the park bench, fingers intimately intertwined together and rhythmically squeezing at every thrust. adores the quiet gasps they elicit from you, intently watching for your every reaction beneath their blond eyelashes.

low love! whitney that doesn’t even bother looking your way as you hand them over the milkshake in your hand, slightly surprised by the sudden show of kindness, but it’s not enough to deter them away from their usual shitty demeanour. dumps the entire drink on you, sound of their obnoxious laughter fading away as they walk out of the park, in a much better mood now. asshole.

high love! whitney’s eyes widening slightly in surprise when you do the same, expecting the same treatment now, but instead being met with a rough arm wrapping around your shoulder, pulling you in closer to their frame. visible flush on their normally cold face as they sip away at their milkshake, unwilling to admit that they’re grateful to be sharing this sweet moment with their favorite person in the world. god, the bully’s always silently hoping that you come to see them on rainy days, the hard days. not that they’ll ever say it aloud, completely denying it. what the fuck are you talking about?? stupid slut!!

man, I love whitney. fuck ‘em.

#i love them so much #but also hate them #it gets confusing #crisis I had once I realized I actually liked them #was crazy #they’re still my fav char for other reasons #so fucking funny #their dialogue is golden #dol #degrees of lewdity #whitney the bully #dol whitney #asher rambles #too much #asher gets asks

[esha-isboogara]

one more hour

remember how i said i’m not doing anymore rick content? well it’s been a few days and i couldn’t help myself. sorry y’all 🫶🏼 his speech pattern has been tripping me up too so excuse how “normal” the speech is ,, i plan on going back and editing this

i’ve been on a kick tbh sooo if you want more click here and here and here and here and here and here

rick fucks summers best friend in the kitchen.

✰just rick talking his shit , afab reader , he’s an ass but i love em

“you need to shut the fuck up y/n-like seriously do you want summer to walk in here”?

you shook your head and bit your tongue. despite his palm being clamped against your mouth muffled groans could still be heard. it wasn’t your fault he was making you feel this way though.

all you wanted to do is enjoy a nice dinner with your best friend and her family. she was going off to college soon after all. nothing too special just a pre- goodbye kind of thing.

but of course rick just can’t contain himself- he’s eager to get one last fuck in before you go off with his granddaughter.

“fuckkk-i’m gonna fill you up and you’re gonna keep my cum inside you every single day so those boys at school know you’re fucking taken”.

the groan that came next was muffled against his palm. you’d love nothing more, like a proper slut of course.

gripping the counter you tried your best to bite down on all the noise threatening to leave your mouth. the sound of skin on skin was progressively getting louder. if you weren’t so cockdrunk you’d worry about summer or one of her family meme hers walking in. but in your state of mind that was not happening.

“make yourself useful and move your right leg up-no your right leg fucking idiot. you’re that high off cock you don’t know your right from left? stupid whore”. rick grabbed your leg and moved it up , giving himself the perfect angle to reach deep into your stomach. “there we go , just needed a little help hmm”?

just that tiny bit of praise was enough to open the flood gates of your body , your vision went blurry as you came all over his abdomen. the noises you made were nothing short of pornographic.

finally rick let go of your mouth, slowly as to make sure you don’t make any sudden noises. “t-that was amazing mr. sanchez”. you breathed out,not moving from your previous position aside from moving your head to meet his gaze

“oh sweetheart we’re not done. that was just the appetizer. just wait till we’re done with this ridiculous dinner”.

#day by day i lose it a little more #like im slipping #im hyperfixating again #and ofc it’s an old man #a science one #i need to sleep #and drink some water #take a cold shower maybe #bc i am insane #rick sanchez x reader #rick sanchez smut #rick sanchez #rick and morty #smut #smutty dialogue #smutty drabble #smutty blurb #tw he’s a perv #like big time #esha writes

[brandnewhuman]

Also I had a thought: how would the slashers (specifically bo and Vincent) react to you shoving your face in their chest like so

I saw Osirisv (I think that’s their url) do it in art form but I’d love to see it in a written form, such as a headcanon. I feel like they would all react differently depending on which slasher you’re referring to, y’know? Anyway hope you have a good day/night lovely!

READER PLANTING

THEIR FACE ON

THE SLASHER'S

BADOONKAS

[Sinclair Twins edition]

CONTENT:

Bo Sinclair - Vincent Sinclair

Tw: head full, so many horny thoughts. NSFW, mature language

A/n: THIS REMINDED ME OF THIS ONE TIKTOK SOUND. Anyway I think I saw the post you're talking about and I THOUGHT THE EXACT SAME THING. I was like "damn...all those tiddies and no one is writing about them". But fear do not cause im here to get all of us to horny jail. I hope its okay if did only the twins, if you want other slashers I can do them in a part two!

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

BO SINCLAIR:

Every time I watch house of wax and Bo comes out in that black suit i- 

They knew what they were doing when they decided to do that shit

I haven't known a single day of peace since

Onto business now

HE IS WEARING THE DAMN SUIT

He should've seen it coming, honestly. 

He's going around with all of that and expects you to do nothing about it? Not today Satan 

You just casually approach him as he is fixing his hair in front of the mirror

He senses your unhinged thoughts from miles away

"Goddammit y/n just do it instead already!!" 

That's all you needed.

He didn't even finished the whole sentence that you're already attempting to your own life by suffocating your face in Bo's glorious chest

HEAR ME OUT. he's like really fit and he's not ripped but he has definition in his muscles right? THE TIDDIES THO

SOFT TIDDIES AND SQUEEZABLE 

while you're in your personal piece of heaven he's just like contemplating his life decisions 

This tall ass bitch acts all tough but as soon as your face is touching his chest he's blushing like an idiot. 

His own horny bastard brain decides to match your energy and he just smirks

"You know… if you really like me so much you should really show me how grateful you are for em, don't ya think doll?" *boner alert* 

I- I can't excuse myself I'm sorry

IT'S NOT MY FAULT HE'S A WHORE

moral of the story, if you do this Bo is gonna get horny and either fuck you into oblivion or just having his head full of sinful thoughts 

VINCENT SINCLAIR:

I think you would genuinely kill him if you do something like this 

But like "oh shy uwu boi" but more like "im restraining myself and my unholy thoughts from auto combustion" 

He's always so focused on his work that most of the he doesn't even pays attention to what anyone's saying 

So when you ask "can I squeeze your boobs" he just absentmindedly nods while, ironically, trying to get the perfect boots shape of one of his wax figures 

He realise when is too late and you're already assaulting his chest by squeezing it and slamming your face against it 

Baby boy is flabbergasted. 

He awkwardly pats your head and stares into the void while his only working brain cell thinks about very naughty things 

He feels so guilty about it

Babe has never experienced things like this so he feels like one wrong move could ruin the mood 

Grateful for the mask covering his now red face

I have this strong feeling that Vinny's chest is less soft than Bo's. Like he's a little bit more on the just fit side than toned or muscular 

He's not gonna be like bo and just be a whore on main out of the blue 

But he's gonna think about how you soft hands (smaller or bigger depending on how yours are) feel against his chest, how he can feel your warm breath against his skin even if he's wearing a shirt and the you intoxicating scent invading his senses 

Yeah he's gonna think about that a lot, when he's alone, preferably in the bathroom with the door locked. 

#slashers #slasher community #slasher fandom #horror movies #slasher fanfiction #slasher x reader #bo sinclair #vincent sinclair #vincent sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x reader #house of wax

[dntaewithluv]

Silent Gym Buddy | jjk

Trying out a new gym really can be a series of trial and error, but something about the cute guy who's always working out near you keeps you coming back day after day

👟 Pairing: gymmember!jungkook x reader

👟 Word Count: 1.6k

👟 Rating: 16+

👟 Genre: Strangers to lovers, idiots to lovers, fluff, some humor, gym au

👟 Warnings: Explicit language, mentions of reader feeling embarrassed/self conscious, reader is thirsty for JK, gym JK with a ponytail, brief mention of reader crying, flirting, teasing, really just a cute fluffy little gym drabble 🥹

A/N: First of all huge thanks to my possum angel @miscelunaaa for inspiring this idea and encouraging me to pursue it I appreciate you so so much Em 🥺💜 Btw I very much am this person at the gym and I just thought it would make for a cute and funny drabble idea 😂 Thank you to everyone for your patience and understanding while I've been taking time to get my life together it means so much to me 😭 I was really excited about feeling inspired and motivated to write something again so I hope you enjoy if you decide to check it out 🥰

Masterlist

Day 1

You had lied to yourself. You were, in fact, the only person in this entire fucking gym who had brought wired ear phones with them to work out. And worst of all, the really cute guy on the treadmill next to you had audibly laughed when you dug the damn tangled things out of your pocket.

Well, time to find a new gym. Cause finding new earphones instead was clearly the more ridiculous solution of the two options. Yeah, fuck that gym.

Day 4

After saying “yeah, fuck that gym” for the last three days in a row, suddenly on day four it didn’t seem nearly as bad for some reason. Maybe it was because you had seen someone else with wired earphones that day, and you had nearly cried in solidarity.

Or maybe it was because the cute guy who had laughed at you on day one lifting weights near you had given your workout a hell of a view. He was absolutely ripped. And. AND. He had a full sleeve of tattoos and a lip ring. Maybe the gym would end up working out after all…

Day 17

It had taken you a record ten, yes one zero, ten fucking minutes to untangle your earphones. A bigger uphill battle than the incline you had started using on the treadmill a few days ago. You had gotten so worked up trying to detangle them, that when you finally got to your workout you were immediately winded.

And as an extra fuck you from the universe, the cute boy had been working out behind you and seen the whole fucking thing. Actually you knew his name now, had learned it a few days before when you’d overheard his friend talking to him. Jungkook. Jungkook had unfortunately witnessed your entire sad wire tragedy. A new gym was starting to look real tempting again.

Day 33

You were still going to the gym. You were still going to the same gym. And so was Jungkook. Every single day, there he was. Same time as you. Always alternating between all the different areas of the gym. Yesterday he had come in with his long dark hair pulled into a ponytail to do some boxing, and you had come close to face planting directly onto the treadmill track.

He always seemed so powerful when he was working out. He just had this super intense and aggressive energy about him. But then you would catch him talking with his friend, you had learned his name was Jin, and he would seem like just the sweetest and softest man.

You always heard his laugh, even with your outdated wired monstrosities blaring in your ears at full volume. It was the kind of laugh that took over his entire body. His face would scrunch up adorably, his little bunny smile poking through. The gym really had done you wonders.

Day 65

You had learned something new today. A very vital piece of information for future use. You could never, ever, accidentally grab the heart rate detector when Jungkook was on the treadmill next to yours. Because the number would indicate that the only place you should’ve been running to was the nearest hospital.

The only thing that had saved you was Jungkook choosing to drink from his water at that exact moment. Even then, you hadn’t been completely saved though. He had definitely caught the tail end of you gawking at him as he did the most basic thing on earth, drinking fucking water. But in your defense, he was always drinking water completely drenched in sweat with his throat bobbing in the most distracting way.

Honestly, it was a wonder you ever ended up being able to work out at all. With a literal long haired demon always in your immediate view. Who always seemed like a total and complete sweetheart the moment he stopped exercising.

It wasn’t like you even really had the option to try and avoid him because he was just always there. Running. Or boxing. Or lifting weights. Or making pull ups look like the easiest fucking thing in the world. Stupid Jungkook. Stupid hot Jungkook.

Day 92

Today your earphones had gone in the trash as soon as you had finished your workout. Your body hadn’t quite been feeling up to your usual workout, so you had fumbled for a split second. But that split second had been long enough for your hand to catch on the wire and yank the whole thing out, making your music readily available for anyone in the near vicinity to be able to hear.

It had been an all around bad day, and you’d had to blink back tears as you tossed your earphones in the gym trash on your way out. You would start saving up for a new pair of headphones starting that day.

For the first time, Jungkook hadn’t been there. And you hadn’t been able to decide if you were happy or sad about that. The two of you had never even spoken a word to each other, but sometimes he would give you such a cute little smile, and something about it always just felt so comforting to you.

Maybe he would have given you one of those rare smiles if he had been there today. You honestly could’ve really used it. Those big, brown, doe eyes and bunny smile just always made you feel better. Always.

Day 100

Something had been waiting for you when you arrived at your usual treadmill. It was a small box that had been delicately wrapped and adorned with a bow on top, as well as a little card that read:

From your (hopefully not so silent in the future) gym buddy (:

It was a good thing you hadn’t started your work out yet because your heart was fucking pouding, and that treadmill heart rate indicator was the biggest snitch. You carefully pulled back the pretty paper, and let out an audible gasp. It was a brand new pair of wireless earphones. This was about to be the second time this week that you had cried in the gym.

“I know you were really attached to your trusty wires, but I promise, these are a lot safer.”

Your head snapped up to find a ponytailed Jungkook leaning over the front of your treadmill with his head resting against his hands.

“Safer?”

It was impossible to miss the way his cheeks tinged pink, “Yeah, uh, Jin. He told me you slipped the other day and got tangled in them and almost got really hurt. So, I thought this would be a better and safer option”

You hadn’t even noticed Jin in the gym that particular day, you had been so focused on Jungkook’s absence. Had Jin also seen you almost cry in front of a random gym trash can?

“He also said that you haven’t had earphones since then. That you’ve just been working out to the,” he gestured around him vaguely, “lovely gym ambience.”

You laughed at that, and Jungkook’s cute little bunny teeth instantly made an appearance.

“I was working on saving up for a better pair.” you admitted quietly.

Jungkook picked his head up, arms still hanging over your machine.

“Well, now you don’t have to. Right?” he queried, flashing you a cheeky little wink at the end.

His gift had touched you more than he would ever know. Especially knowing that he had paid that much attention to you over the last three plus months. Maybe as much as you’d been paying attention to him.

“Right.” you agreed, a smile starting to take over your features.

Jungkook grinned back at you.

“This is really sweet, thank you so much.” you added, holding the small box close to your chest.

His face scrunched up in that way you absolutely adored, “Yeah, you’re welcome. I hope they make your workouts go a little smoother.”

“Well, I won’t have to spend a ridiculous amount of time detangling them, so that already is a huuuuuge step up.”

Jungkook chuckled, and you realized it was your favorite part of the “lovely gym ambience”.

“Just make sure you don’t accidentally let them go through the wash…it does not end well.”

He sounded like he was speaking from experience.

You found it hard to stifle your giggles, “Noted. Thanks.”

Jungkook suddenly nervously rubbed the back of his neck.

“So, uh, I know it took us like a hundred days to officially meet and talk to each other. But would you ever, maybe, I don’t know, want to see each other? Like not at the gym?”

Ooh that heart rate detector would have been having a fucking field day right now.

“Not at the gym? You mean, like a-”

“Like a date, yeah.” he finished for you, his face flushing noticeably deeper.

You were pretty sure your own blush was matching his at this point.

“Well, what do you like to do for fun?”

“Uh, go to the gym.” he laughed, “You?”

“Same, actually.”

God, you were both so fucking awkward. Match made in heaven maybe.

“See! We already have so much in common.” Jungkook remarked, his eyes bright with excitement.

You instantly started giggling. He joined in with you, his body bending over your treadmill once again.

“You know, we’ve technically already had like a hundred indirect, silent dates. Maybe for our one hundred and oneth we can actually have a conversation.” he added as he playfully raised an eyebrow at you.

You had just started to open your mouth to respond, when panic suddenly took over his face, “Oh fuck, I’m Jungkook, by the way.”

More giggles from you.

“Y/N. It's nice to meet you, Jungkook. Hey, since it’s gonna be like our one hundred and oneth date, should I bring my mom to meet you?”

You couldn’t resist joining in on the teasing.

“Of course! I’ve been dying to meet her.”

Your shared, loud, obnoxious laughter echoed around you.

#bts #jungkook #bts fluff #jungkook fluff #networkbangtan #thebtswritersclub #btshoneyhive #btswritingcafe

[jackals-ships]

hey baby (kiss the goat)

contains: alternating second person pov, pale flirting, two idiots who are both in love and don't realize the other is too, who knew face painting could be so intimate, mild angst on dogs pov and kurlz being. a little violent in his pale leanings. as a treat

You weren't raised faithful. Hell you were raised the exact opposite, raised "Keep away from the freaky murder clown church for the love of all that's holy." You were raised knowing full well you were several leagues below them in the food chain and to keep your fucking head down if you were fond of it being attached to you.

And yet. Here you are. Trying to put on the paint everyone else in the Church wears and oh yeah; you're awful at it.

The kind of awful that makes you want to go out bare faced but doing that will cause a scene. A fact you only know cuz you already tried it. Had the Highblood about losing his entire mind yelling, explaining why it's important you don't wander around like that. Something about it being like wandering around with your ass out. But worse? Cuz blasphemy?

Whole lotta something's you didn't catch because you were a little preoccupied.

Sure there was the terror of being yelled at by a highblood/very much your superior. (especially when his psionics slipped out a little. fear wrapped its cold fingers round your throat and squeezed til you couldn't breathe. came as quick as it went luckily or you'd never have lived down your panicked whimpers.)

But mostly? You were getting an eye full of fangs. canines the size of your forearms at the very least. Looking at em made your mouth dry and your stomach do a flip that you're not entirely sure was dread. (you don't wanna admit what it was even to yourself. don't wanna confront the things you can't have.)

So. Yeah. In the best interest of both your sanity and making sure you don't find out how easily fangs like that could rip through a human you need to get this paint right.

The problem is, the problem fucking is, you've wiped it all off a grand total of six times now to restart and you're getting no closer to acceptable.

It's this fact that finally makes you snap.

The stupid tins of the stupid paint crack against the wall while you throw your stupid little hissy fit. It shouldn't bother you so much, the whole concept is ridiculous anyways and you're not even faithful. You should be laughing at the fact your life is this much of a clusterfuck.

Instead you're white knuckling the counters so you don't start breaking things (again) as your breaths come out ragged. You're near vibrating out your skin with a rage you can't seem to wrangle back under control.

It's stupid, it's stupid, all of it, every single little bit of it. (you just. you just want to do something right.)

(you just wanna do something that gets the highblood to look at you like you're closer than you are. to get him to put one of those huge cold hands on your cheek and.)

Your palmhusk makes a noise, a chirp that makes you want to throw it out the window so you can return to your furious spiral. (hate it when you're like this, when you get so mad that the anger starts to feel good. starts to feel like it's all you're gonna feel ever again so fucking lean into it.)

And then it chirps again. And then you really do almost lose it and launch the thing as hard as possible. Only thing that stops you is catching sight of the name on the screen.

It's the Grand Highblood. Kurloz. Because that's how he put himself in the thing, when he presented it to you that first day. He made sure he was the first contact in it, made sure you knew you could call him by name and call him any time.

You don't, of course, not either of those things. You know he just says it to be more approachable an if you tried it you'd be rebuked. (still. sometimes you roll his name around in your mouth. you get a feel for the taste of it, the way the syllables play together. kur-loz. kurrloz.)

It's the third chirp that finally makes you tap the notifications. You're still vibrating with anger and something else. Some formless sort of hurt you can't put a finger on. So you plan to be snappish in a way that doesn't bode well for your lifespan.

But you. But he.

kurloz: HEY, LITTLE WARM BLOODED MIRACLE BRO. WHERE YOU AT?

kurloz: morning sermons bout to start in a couple minutes and i don't see you, shit ain't like you

kurloz: LIL BUDDY? YOU OKAY? YOU AINT COMIN DOWN WITH SOME WEIRD HUMAN DISEASE RIGHT? :O(

The emoticon mocks you. The way he pretends at worry, the way it gets up under your skin and works at softening you. A little traitor part of you whispers the worry is genuine maybe, maybe you could be so lucky.

(another part chimes in that if he is it's the worry for a pet project. seeing as that's how you are. and really you should put some emphasis on the pet because you're no better than an animal. some wild thing that would gnaw its own leg off to get out of a trap and instead he took in to see if he could tame it. but he can't and.)

You have to breathe, nice and deep. Much as you'd like to snap and push your luck you really, truthfully, don't feel like dying today.

So you pen a response. And delete it. And repeat the process several times before settling on something halfway alright.

jackal: oh hell did i ?? im so sorry sir im just having some trouble with my paint. guess i need more practice !

kurloz: hey i told you to knock it off with the sir nonsense >:o/ we're all bros here

kurloz: BUT SHIT YEAH THAT'S FINE, TAKE ALL THE TIME YOU NEED

kurloz: remind me to show you some of my first attempts at my own paint later, it's an absolute riot how bad it was :o)

Something possesses you in that moment. Some lingering need to push and push. And your fingers move without your full consent.

jackal: do you think you could come help me with it?

jackal: i know it's an imposition because of the sermons and ofc i can ask someone else i just don't want to be late to anything else is all!

kurloz: NO

kurloz: no i mean. yeah. i can help you with your paint :o) show you some wicked tips i picked up. one of the sisters can handle sermons today

That. Hm. Well. Fuck?

—

It's only sheer force of will that keeps you from crushing your palmhusk. And even then it creaks worryingly under your fingers while you direct one of the other older faithful to handle things.

They're giving you a look you refuse to acknowledge before you stalk off. You're too busy replaying the messages in your head. Little miracle blooded brother asking you to help them with their paint (do they know? do they understand what they're asking?) before up and backtracking. Like you're gonna what? Say no?

As if you ever could. As if you could deny Jackal anything. Little brother could ask you for your heart and you'd carve it out your own chest, just to see them smile while you bleed out. Hells if they wanted to do it themself you'd lay yourself down sweet as a lamb to slaughter so they could reach easier.

Fuck. Fuck and hell and damn you're in too deep. The right an proper thing to do would be to turn yourself round, have one of the younger disciples do it. Someone a little less up the chain of command.

But you don't. You can't. (does the lil motherfucker even know what they've done to you? made a collar out of your heart strings and they've got your leash in a chokehold.)

Too quick and not quick enough you're outside their door, hands moving on autopilot to knock. You can hear faintly the sounds of them stumbling cross their block. (you aren't entertaining ideas of helping em clean up. you ain't. no matter how much you wanna set em in their coon and purr to em that you're gonna handle every little thing.)

Now the thing about your little bro, little candy red blooded miracle they are, is they somehow always catch you off guard with how the pity wants to bowl you horns over heels. Now is certainly no exception.

They're looking up at ya with big brown dog eyes, smudges of paint decorating their face. You hope your laugh comes off casual, a bit of friendly teasing. You hope the swipe of a thumb across their cheekbone is even more casual. "Been having fun little buddy?"

They're so warm, like they're burning up from the inside out, an it only gets worse when they blush. That sweet red spreads all across their cheeks and nose, makes you have to clamp down every instinctual crooning purr you wanna let out.

"Yeah sure fun is the word I would use. It's so fun that Im so god awful at this. Just the best, having a grand old fuckin time in here."

They're bein sarcastic but there's…something in their tone you don't like. Makes you tap your thumb against their cheek in something you can play off as not being a pap. No siree it's totally up an platonic here. "Well shit if that's being the case I can always go back and take over my sermons-"

You can't even make yourself finish on account of the way they're looking at you now. Something between affronted and like a kicked pup. Like they think you actually would. "Ah fuck lil bro I'm just jesting. Come on, scootch. Let a motherfucker in and I'll help you get fixed up alright?"

There's still something of affront in their demeanor but they let you in, traipsing over scattered clothes, books, weapons as they wave a hand. "Just uh, sit down wherever I guess? Lemme get my paints."

They've scurried off before you can respond, and you really really shouldn't be poking around. On the other hand. On the other hand their block is so fucking messy how do they live like this.

They come back to you making a pile of their clothes, the normal kind, not the shoosh-pap-them-til-they're-soft-and-sweet-and-gentle-for-you kind. (even if the thought did cross your mind. and you had to consciously stop yourself from stealing one of their shirts to sleep next to like a pervert.) And once more there's something about em you can't read before they're smoothing it away, throwing the tins of paint at your horns.

"Thought you were gonna help me out Highblood, not play lusus."

"Kurloz. And I was just trying to clear myself a place to sit, you ever fuckin clean?"

"Nah." They flop themself down on the pile of clothes you made, stretching out in an entirely shameless display that makes your fins try to flare. "Busy with shit. Keepin up with the rest of you assholes mostly."

You're sittin now, in front of the not-Pile-pile, like a civilized troll. "Yeah? Having an alright time with that?"

They shrug in a way that's too smooth to be actually casual, eyes flicking from your face to the wall and back again. "Mm. Yeah, I can handle it. 'S all good in Jackal town and shit." They stretch out a leg, kicking at your foot. "Don't wanna talk bout that shit right now though. Said you had tips for me."

"Impatient lil fuck huh." It's fond, too fond, so you busy yourself with your hands. The tins for em are smaller than yours but you manage. You beckon em closer, their shorter stature meaning you gotta lean down as they sit up straighter. Makes it feel sorta like you're looming over them predator like.

You don't swallow as they close their eyes. As they show off the way they trust you ain't gonna snap their frail little neck or rip em in half. (could do it so easy too. humans are so soft. skin thin enough you can see the gentle rush of dark blood in their veins if you look hard enough. your mouth aches with desire. you wanna know the exact shade of red that runs through em.)

You breathe slow and deep as you swipe the brush across their cheeks. Nice long strokes, like you've done a million and one times on yourself. "Sounds real counterintuitive but it's easier if ya start with the grey. Use that as a base." It's a struggle to keep your voice teacher like, but you manage somehow.

You're just a couple of guys being bros after all. Just a dude helping out his friend.

Just a dude who's having entirely normal thoughts about the way they lean into the brush. Like they're looking for your touch. So it's fine, you can justify pressing your fingers so gently to their jaw. It's just to keep em steady after all.

And if your fingers dip a little, if they touch the gentle expanse of Jackals throat then. Then it's just on account of your hands being too big that's all. Not cuz you're barely restraining the urge to wrap em round their neck, feel the thump of their pulse under your fingertips. Feel the way their heart beats so much faster than yours, makes em always seem like they're frightened.

(you hope they're not. you don't wanna see them scared, least of all of you.)

You pull your hand away as you finish up that first coat, watching just a little too intent as they automatically try and follow before settling in again.

Thing that really catches your attention however is the fact their eyes are still closed. A troll woulda opened em by now, trusting for a little while but not that long. Not them. They just keep sitting all sweet and polite.

You're thankful for it when your tail starts lashing behind you. look at me look at me I'm so big I can protect you so well. Fuckin preening like a wriggler.

"like i, I said. Seems counterintuitive but now it's easier to go in with the white. Block stuff out." Your fingers are back on their jaw-not-throat. Don't even gotta ask what paint they wear because you know, picked it out for em in a totally not at all vaguely creepy display of platonic affection.

They're leaning into your touch again, making a noise that might be agreement might be a pleased sigh. You don't know which you hope it is.

It's one of the only sounds in the room as you loop the white across their face. That and the gentle sound of the two of you breathing, syncing up unconsciously. You're slowing yours down to match the steady rise and fall of their chest, sure if you had a mirror you'd see your pupils swallowing up the purple of your iris.

Your voice lowers unbidden, turning from teacher to something softer. Pity pale and sugary sweet. "There we go…looks so good on you…doin so well too. Sitting for me so nicely…." You catch it when their pulse jumps, beating even faster as they let out a shaky exhale.

You can't help it. You push your luck. Adding in a little subvocal croon while you murmur. "Always doing so good, so wonderful little brother. An so fuckin trusting, doing so well trusting me. Don't say it often enough do I, that you're doing good. Doing amazing, beautiful, wonderful."

They're shivering now, the fine hairs on their arms standing up as they swallow. You want, you want, so badly. You want to drag them into a pile, turn their vicious bites into something gentle and sweet for you. Get em to let you peel back all their layers, spill their guts and strip em to their bones. Til you know every single dark and awful thing they've never let another soul know.

You're shivering yourself with the want of it.

And that's your cue to pull back. You've long since finished with their paint, just been stroking at em in a way that you're not sure you can play off as platonic. They make it all the worse when they blink up at you, dark brown eyes gone even darker in an almost daze like you had dragged em to pile.

It takes a few more blinks before they seem to come back to their body. Their eyes dart from you again, mouth opening and closing. You can see em lick at their canines, if you can even call those blunt things such, in a nervous tic. "You uh. Should show me a few more times? So I can make sure I know what I'm doing, Highblood."

You've gotten greedy in your wanting, that's the only explanation for your words. "Call me Kurloz, an we got a deal."

Their inhale is sharp through their teeth, gaze flicking to your face and away again and again. Thinking. Considering in the way a cornered animal might. Before their mouth opens and your heart skips a beat.

"Kurloz."

Greedy, greedy terrible thing you are, you give in and crowd your little brother. Tail lashing as you lay fangs gently to their jaw. Threat and a promise all wrapped up into one. "Again. Say it again for me brother."

"Kurloz, Kurloz."

Your name in their voice rings like scripture, like the sermon the two of you are missing. (you prefer this one. prefer the way your name comes out sweet, comes out shaky as you nuzzle into their throat.)

#jackals barks #okay 2 rb #ship: palest diamonds <> #self ship fic #can you hear the jingle jangle of my little jesters hat #anyways kurlz immediately after realizes what he did goes 'OH FUCK-' and dog goes 'OH FUCK' and then they dont talk about it for a month #bc theyre stupid <>

[whataboutmyfries]

✩THE BEDTIME STORY PROJECT✩

Noot Special!

Hello hello hello! Welcome to a very special edition of the Bedtime story project!!! this could be read a love letter to all my beloved noot friends (it absolutely is btw) but also as a collection of some truly incredible fics by some equally incredible people. For those of you seeing this for the first time, this is not-quite regular post wherein i rec shorter, usually fluffy, fics in the hopes that you too find something to make your bedtime that little bit sweeter!

~

Oknutzy

✩Suburbia by @fruitcoops (T: rated by me)

Starting off so so so strong with Eve's wonderful writing. This fic feels like a big hug and I love it to bits oh gosh <333 Anyone that knows sweater weather knows Eve is an absolute GOD in this fandom and the fact that I get to interact with her on the daily and call her my friend still feels a wee bit like a fever dream. she's out here writing utter magic like countermoves and Land of light both of which have me climbing the walls and chewing at the floorboards cause holy SHIT (whoops, back to the fic) I'm not going to lie, it was so hard to pic just a few fics to rec, but I went with the one I'd read this week for the wee oneshot because oh GOSH it is so somft and lovely and adorable, i love it.

✩Frosted windowpanes by @heyitssmiller (G | 13.8K)

Piercing, bitter cold greeted Logan as he stepped outside for the first time that day. The kind of cold that made the entire body tense up and the breath hitch. It was a quiet early morning, with a stillness that only freshly-fallen snow could bring. Logan took a second to pull his toque further down over his head as he grabbed the chainsaw by the door before heading out to the truck, passing the sign with red, clean lettering that read Tremblay’s Christmas Trees.

Now anyone that's been on this blog for a while knows just how much I ADORE mills and her writing (hello my lovely E-fiancee!!) And this FIC oh GOSH!!!! Frosted wondowpanes recently had its two year anniversary (!!!) which is when it was published on Ao3. I won't lie, this au still lives in my head RENT FREE along with clandestine and also Rendezvous with destiny (both of which I am definitely NOT reccing in this list no sir, not AT ALL nuh uh please dont have the links to them (they're on the names) and also whatever you do DONT go and yell in milo's comments about how MAGNIFICENT her writing is, no sir, definitely not suggesting that) Because of just how adorable it is, so much blushy flirting and idiots in love, 100/10

✩Leo's plant corner by @we-are-swearwolves (G)

Finn/Leo/Logan: plants and domesticity and social media mishaps 

Oh lord, oh jesus. Anyone that's ever interacted with me for any amount of time on the SW discord know I am absolutely FERAL for Em's writing. This is one of her shorter fics but you should absolutely definitely decidedly NOT go read her other works which I am NOT rec-ing because they definitely did NOT make me cry sob eat my heart out and feel shrimp emotions like Québécois and also "Smile, Soleil." nuh uh, not at ALL ;)

✩I've got my love to keep me warm by @arrowofcarnations (M | 1.7K)

Okay so, most people know Kim as the incredible author behind the fandom classic Inked but oh my GOSH the way kim writes makes me so EMOSH it is unreal, her characters are so fleshed out and tangible and so so gorgeous and also i get to watch her to her magic word thing on the discord??? like hello??? little old me witness to this absolute SORCERY??? genuinely insane, i adore it so much. Alsooooo cute little fun fact: Kim and Em worked together to write the masterpiece that absolutely BROKE me Like Real People Do just flipping INCREDIBLE. absolutely showstopping. I love Kim and her writing so so much.

✩Regency AU by @peggyrose19 (E: rated by me)

oh my god oh my god oh my GOD. Audrey's writing is so fucking *chef's kiss* and watching this magic story come to life in the SW discord was an absolute DELIGHT. utterly filthy, completely delightful and wonderful in every single way. Of course, Auds is also our local St.Tweedle whisperer with fics like this one and also hold me closer. oh my GOD audrey's brain is so so big, i honestly have no idea how she comes up with all these incredible aus and fic ideas, such a cool human i love her &lt;3

Coops/ wolfstar

✩Christmas is home by ithilielthechosenone (T | 1.5K)

Remus gives him a mock shove with a shake of his head. “You are hopeless.” No, Sirius thinks. I was. I thought I had to be. I wrestled it down until I myself could no longer see it. You took my hand and gave it back to me. You all did. My hope lives within each and every smile of yours.

- Sirius and Remus enjoy the snow

Oh good gosh, oh jesus, oh boy, it's Ami's writing, my KRYPTONITE. The way Ami writes is like music. there's no other way I can think of to describe it. It flows so beautifully and the way her writing reads like lyrical prose and poetic storytelling has me weak in the knees EVERY single time. This fic was part of the SW discord winter fic exchange and it had me looking at my phone like 🥺🥰the whole time. Ami's writing is just INCREDIBLE and she blows me away with the way she words everytime she blesses us with her writing :)

✩First Burn by @fruitcoops

Okay folks, we've already established how much I ADORE Eve's writing but also oh my GOD I just had to bring up this au, which left me completely shooketh right from the moment the idea came up in the discord to the finished product of Eve's wonderful fic. I LOVE it so so much and I still reread it on a semi regular basis (but shhhh) bottom line, everyone needs to read this.

✩Washcloths and Wishes (A Sweater Weather Fanfic) by @veryspacecowboy (E | 1K)

oh goodness M's writing (and M themself) Is so flipping wonderful and this was one of her first fic's I've ever read (I think it might've actually been their first published fic I read) the way she writes is so flipping incredible and the way they weave all the character's stories together is so magical to witness, and to watch them do this wizardry on the discord (parkouring through allll the threads, so many of which are her brainchild because M is big brain and they are so so cool) has me making heart eyes at my phone/laptop. This fic is somft and also hot (which they are a MASTER at, the duality of M(tm)) and every SW fan HAS to read it, I promise you'll love it.

✩Sirius gets Re to communicate by the wonderful @tetedump/@arewelonely

LAUREL WRITING LAUREL WRITING OH MY LORDY. Laurel is such an incredible human oh my gosh my HEART!!! we haven't spoken very much but she's such a bright, kind, and comforting presence on the discord and I always have a little !!! moment when I see her in my notifications :')) This fic oh my GOSH this fic is EXACTLY what it says on the bottle, Sirius gets Re to communicate because he's a sexi sexi gentleman (Laurel's world not mine) She's such a lovely, caring human and honestly, you can really see that come through in her writing and it makes me so so 🥺🥹 I adore every single inch of it &lt;3

✩Neon moon podfic, written by @fruitcoops and read by @itsaash

So we all know that Ash is our resident podcast GOD, who's read and orchestrated the wonderful Sweater weather podfic along with a bunch of other noots (which everyone collectively lost their minds over) and also the podfic of the system which was originally written by @heyitssmiller (ahahahah triple noot whammy hehehe) but oh my GOSH Ash is so so cool, and such a delightful person to talk to and interact with, I adore her to bits, she's always so nice and kind whenever you interact with her and she's so wonderful about raising peeps up with her podfics, it makes me very very 🥺🥰

~

Thank you so so much to the lovely noots for putting all their wonderful works out there into the world and letting me rec their works in this silly little list :) I love you all so so so much, and AHHHH thank you so much!  Thank you, lovely reader for going through my first ever reclist! feel free to come yell about these lovely works with/at me, and you can send in your recs on the comments of this post, or my inbox!

Happy reading!

#the bedtime story project #noot special! #wolfstar #oknutzy #coops #lumosinlove ocs #sweater weather lumosinlove #coast to coast lumosinlove #AHHHHHHHH I LOVE THE NOOTS SO MUCH YALL THIS IS UNREAL #fries recs fics