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familyvideostevie · 3 months

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you have me, you have me only

joel miller x reader you get (minorly) injured on patrol. joel does his best to patch you up and not worry too much. | jackson!joel, hurt/comfort, wound-patching, some blood, a jesse cameo, joel being joel, all that good stuff. | 4.2k a/n: part of the just and just as verse. not too soft but not too angsty, either. just another day after the end of the world, you know? thank you @mrsmando for your eyes on this! <3

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"Almost there," you mutter. "Fuck."

The icy winter wind dulls the stinging in your palms to a numbness. The leather gloves you've had for half a decade stay tucked in your pockets. You don't want to ruin their lining with dirt and blood.

"How's the head?"

Jesse pulls up alongside you in a trot. The adrenaline from your patrol-gone-wrong pulses heavy at the top of your spine, your vision sharp and the whole world a little too loud around you as Jackson comes into view at the bottom of the hill. Your head, like the rest of you, throbs.

"I'll live."

He scoffs and his horse snorts as if agreeing with him. In truth, you're more pissed than injured, though it certainly looks like you lost a fight. Jesse's cheekbone will no doubt bloom purple tomorrow and his lip is still bleeding sluggishly. His jeans are splattered with gore, same as yours.

"Thanks for back there," he says.

You shrug and wince when it pulls at the skin of your side where you fell.

"You, too," you tell him with a grimace. "That was quick thinking with the brick."

You like him -- he's good at his job and he's a good friend to Ellie. You know Tommy and Maria are not-so-subtly training him to run this place someday if he wants to. As a patrol partner, you can't ask for much better. He knows all the routes and he's a good shot and his mom knows everything there is to know about everyone in town and sometimes he passes tidbits on to you.

But knowing your shit doesn't mean a damn thing in this world, sometimes. You can still get ambushed by infected on patrol and it can still fuck up your day.

He waves you off. "I just can't believe an elk chose our station to fucking die in."

"Tommy is going to shit himself when you tell him," you laugh. It pulls at your ribs. God, is there any part of you that didn't take a beating?

"He'll just be pissed he wasn't here."

Your horses reach the bottom of the hill and Jesse hesitates, the green scrap of cloth in his hand. The red one indicating an injured party peeks out from his pocket.

"Are you sure you don't want to go to the clinic?"

"I'm fine," you say firmly. "I can patch up at home."

He eyes the cut on your forehead and your scraped palms but caves under your glare and waves the green flag.

"Joel makes the same face," he mutters. "Ellie does, too. Freaky."

The gates open and you grunt when you get off your horse, palms back to stinging.

"Joel's two expressions are pissed and annoyed," you say. “Not hard to pick one up.” You press the back of your hand to your forehead and it comes back tacky with blood. "Fuck."

"I don't think you'll need a stitch." Jesse holds his hand out for your patrol rifle and pats the neck of your horse. "I'll debrief and get these guys settled. You go home."

Normally, you'd protest. But you really just want to take a hot shower and sleep for twelve hours, so you nod and shoulder your pack carefully.

"Make sure you tell Tommy about beating a stalker to death with a brick," you call over your shoulder. "He'll be impressed."

Jesse laughs.

Snow crunches under your boots on the way home. Fuck, you're exhausted. The adrenaline fades with each step and the aches become sharp pains. There aren't too many people out today on account of the cold but you nod and wave, ignoring the double takes at the blood on your clothes.

It'll be a pain in the ass if you can't patch the ruined knees of your jeans. Maybe you can convince Joel to carve something for the woman down the street who can sew better than anyone in town. Finding new pants is damn near impossible.

You’re practically dragging your feet by the time you reach your house. The mailbox labeled Miller, the wind chimes gently swaying on the porch, all of it puts you at ease. You made it home.

The porch steps groan as you climb them and the front door opens from the inside as you reach the top. Joel steps out, hand still on the knob when he looks up and sees you. His eyes widen.

He was on patrol today, too. You left at the same time but he had a shorter route and must have gotten back a while ago.

"Are you coming to meet me?" you say with a grin that's genuine despite the way your body pulses with pain. He does this sometimes -- milling around the gate, chatting with people on the wall as he waits for you to return. You never really feel like you're home until you see his face.

Joel does not smile back. His eyes rake over you the same way he surveys a room, cataloging all of the important things. The gash on your temple, the rips in your jeans, the way you're favoring your left side. The blood, too -- it's everywhere, you're sure. Palms, knees, collar. Jesse helped you wipe your face before you rode back so that you could see without blood in your eyes, but you must look pretty fucking rough.

"Jesus," he says. His hand twitches like he's going to reach for you. "You okay?"

"I'll be better when I'm not standing out in the cold."

His nostrils flare and he heads back into the house, you on his heels. You dump your pack and sit down heavily on the bench to take off your boots. Joel beats you to it, lowering to one knee with a slight groan, fingers working at your laces.

Normally he'd ask how patrol was, how Jesse did, if you saw anything interesting. Instead, his cheek twitches like he's clenching his jaw so hard it hurts. He unties your double knots with practiced ease and his silence fills the entryway of your house.

In another life, the sight of him on one knee would set your heart aflutter. As it is, you want to run a hand through his hair and smooth the worry lines on his forehead. You know him and this is how he handles it -- he chews on blame that doesn't belong on his shoulders until he can fix it.

"I'm fine," you say softly. You open and close your hands, resting them on your knees. You got most of the gravel out but there's dirt and god knows what else embedded in the tender flesh. Joel pulls off one boot with a firm hand on your calf and then the other before finally looking up at you.

"You wanna explain...this, then?"

His hand waves up in your general direction. There's no tremble in his palm but his brows are furrowed, his shoulders set in that way of his, like he's bracing for bad news. You have a rule about not lying to each other. So if you say you're fine, you're fine. Achey, bloody, and gross, sure. But you made it home in one piece and now you'll let him take care of you and he has to be okay with that.

But you don't mind reassuring him. He worries, and you know the feeling.

You shrug and fail to hide your wince. Joel wraps a hand around your ankle and squeezes lightly.

"I've had worse," you say. "I'll tell you about it if you patch me up."

He softens a little and sighs. It won't do anything to remind him that he can't go back in time and stop you from getting hurt. Joel knows he can't fix everything, can't keep everyone he loves away from harm, can't save the world. Won't, if it comes at the expense of the people in his heart.

But you can give him something to do -- a way to make it better. You could probably bandage your hands and your forehead and the rest on your own but it'll help him just as much as you if he does it.

Life in this world is a constant give and take. You have to be okay with some things, with cuts and bruises and ruined clothes if it means you survived. There's no safety, not anymore.

"Alright, c'mon," he says, standing with a groan. "Upstairs, 'fore you bleed on the furniture."

He holds out a hand for you to stand but you show him your mangled palm. Joel clicks his tongue and grips your forearm gently instead as you rise.

"Gotta clean that," he says.

"That's the plan." You leave your coat and pack behind in a heap and head for the stairs. "A hot shower sounds so fucking good right now."

Joel stops you with a hand on your elbow and you turn on the bottom step. He traces the cut on your forehead with light fingers and you try not to wince.

"Shower," he says. "I'll patch you up after." His tone leaves no room for argument.

You ghost your fingertips along his jaw and smile at him.

"Yes sir, Mr. Miller, sir."

More tension melts from his shoulders and he rolls his eyes at you. You laugh all the way to the bathroom, even though it hurts a little.

It's been a while since one of you returned from patrol with any sort of injury. Winter means the hoards are sluggish and easy to track and tends to keep groups of people from coming to the valley and making trouble. Today was bad luck and could have been much worse.

You both know how quickly all of the good in your lives can be snatched away. Everyone does.

But you just can't dwell on it. Joel knows it, too, and letting him fuss over you in that way of his will remind him. You're home. You're okay.

You leave the bathroom door cracked as you shower under the gentle spray. Your various injuries sting but you manage to clean the scrapes on your knees and hands and wash the blood from your skin and hair, the water rusty brown as it swirls around the drain.

Joel knocks when you're almost done and the hinges groan when he steps into the bathroom.

"Leavin' you clothes," he says, voice raised so you hear over the spray. "You okay?"

"Still alive," you call back. "Almost done."

The water starts to turn lukewarm so you switch off the stream and drag back the curtain. Joel is nowhere to be found but he's left you loose shorts so your knees are exposed and a big, faded graphic t-shirt that you brought home for him as a joke last year as well as fresh underwear and warm socks. You gently pat your skin dry with an old and scratchy towel and do your best with your hair before sliding them on.

Joel knocks again and this time he has the bag with all of your first aid stuff in his hands. The steam from your shower rushes out into your bedroom and you shiver.

He jerks his chin at the counter. "Wanna get up there?"

You haul yourself up with a groan and he stands between your knees, arms crossed and head cocked.

"What're we dealin' with, here?"

You look down at your messy palms and rattle off what hurts.

"Cut on my forehead, bruised rib, probably, fucked up hands and knees, and..." You look up and find Joel running a hand down his face. "That's it."

"You sure?"

You glare at him. He glares back. His eyes drift to your forehead gash.

"Cut could use a stitch."

He's still tense, you can tell, probably will be until he wakes up tomorrow and you're still next to him in bed. Until the wounds turn to scabs turn to scars. Maybe not even then.

"I think I've had enough cuts over the years to know what needs a stitch."

His eyebrows rise just a little bit, turning his expression from interrogative to exasperated, but he knows better than to tell you to do something when you’ve set your mind against it.

"They're offerin' medical degrees on the Creek Trails, now?"

"Joel."

He holds his hands up in surrender. "Fine," he says. "Let me feel your ribs."

You raise your arms a little and he slides his palms under your shirt and up your torso, pressing gently as he goes. Braless as you are, he brushes the underside of your breast, and your breath hitches. His eyes are soft with quiet amusement but he doesn't tease you.

"Your hands are warm," you murmur. He reaches the place on your side that took the brunt of the impact and you hiss.

"Sorry," he says. "Doin' real good. Deep breath for me." You obey and he withdraws, satisfied.

"Nothin' broken," he says.

"Told you."

He hums and pulls out the precious few disinfectant wipes from your first aid kid. You can get Joel to do a lot of things just by asking, but arguing with him about wasting supplies on you never works. He washes his hands in the sink and glares are you like he knows what you’re thinking.

"Forehead first, then hands, then knees," he says. "Okay?'

You nod, eyes fluttering shut. He grips your face with gentle fingertips to keep you still.

"How was your patrol?" you ask him.

He makes a noise low in his throat that's halfway to being a laugh.

"C'mon," he says. "You don't want to hear about mine. I know you're dyin' to tell me what happened."

The alcohol wipe stings as he swabs at your forehead and you tense. Joel's thumb rubs slow circles at the corner of your mouth and you press your knees into his hips.

Funny how you've had broken bones, been stabbed, shot, pretty much everything over the last twenty years but it's the small stuff that hurts the most. Stubbed toes, sliced fingers, alcohol wipes on shallow wounds. Some things just don't change.

"Okay," you say. "Well, you'll never believe it, but a damn elk decided to die in the station where the logbook is."

You tell him how you and Jesse rode up and saw the blood trail immediately and heard the moans and groans. You kept the horses on the other side of the fence and checked the first floor and the overlook, but the elk had weaseled its way under the collapsed staircase.

It smelled like death, rust and decay heavy in the air. The animal must have died just after the last patrol.

But it wasn't the problem. It was the group of Infected it attracted -- two runners and four stalkers. You have no idea where they came from but, since you were on patrol, the priority was eliminating them. The runners were easier, although one of them was responsible for the gash on your forehead when it managed to push you into the wall. You and Jesse cleared them quickly, one bullet each.

You thought you got all of the stalkers. One of them was munching on the carcass and went down fairly easily with your good aim. Jesse helped you clean your forehead so you both could clear the passage to get to the upper level and sign the logbook. The corpses went over the side of the station into the forest below. The Infected had eaten so much of the elk that it wasn't too heavy, though you both were sweating and dirty by the time you finished.

"Lemme guess," Joel says. You open your eyes as he carefully pulls the wound closed with two butterfly bandages before he gestures for your hand. He holds your wrist gently and tilts your palm side to side, looking for dirt. "There were infected inside the station, too."

"Look at you," you tease. His eyes flick to yours for just a second, intense as always. "It's like you were there."

"Smartass," he grumbles. The disinfectant stings on your palm, too, but you keep talking and keep your gaze on his face.

"Jesse climbed the rope up to the control room first but had to fend off a stalker at the top so he didn't see when another one grabbed my ankle and pulled me down mid-climb, which fucked my hands. The fall is how my rib got bruised and I tore up my knees fending it off."

Joel's cheek twitches. He wraps one of your palms in gauze and turns his attention to the other.

"Fuckin' hate those things."

"Me, too. When I got to the top, finally, Jesse was tugging a pipe from the head of a corpse. There was one more -- it jumped out of that supply room on the side, the one where Ellie found a bong, once, I think. I dodged it but my gun jammed and my hands were bleeding."

"Should've been wearing gloves."

You tap his leg with your foot and ignore him. Not taking your bait about the bong means he’s still pissed. "And then Jesse killed it with a brick."

"I taught him that," Joel grumbles.

He ties off your other palm and as soon as he's done you frame his face. Joel allows it, allows you to stare at him for a few seconds like you're memorizing him. You're telling the story like it was a fun adventure -- and it was. You're plenty capable and he knows it, too.

But you were scared. You don't tell him that right now, instead grounding yourself in the man in front of you. His hands are rough and dangerous to most, but tender and careful to you. The broad, firm line of his shoulders, always braced for the next hit.

The gash on the bridge of his nose, the lines at the corners of his eyes. His beard, greyer every year. You swipe your thumbs along his cheekbones and he sighs.

"Lucky me," you say softly.

You lean in to kiss him, just a light press of your lips to his. His wide palms rest on your bare thighs and he kisses back with a kind of desperate firmness, as if he's proving to himself that you're real. That you're here in front of him, under his hands, in his care.

Joel drags his lips along your cheek.

"Knees," he says.

He steps back and releases your thighs with a squeeze. He treats more of your torn skin, a frown back on his face.

"I do want to hear about your patrol, by the way."

He shrugs. "Not much to tell," he says. "Didn't even get to shoot anythin’.”

You swing your foot back and forth, tapping the side of his thigh with every pass.

"But you had the nice route," you whine. "Tell me what the lake looked like."

"Quit distracting me," he grumbles.

"Like you don't have the steadiest hands in all of Jackson," you say softly.

He snorts. "Are you flirtin' with me?"

"I'm always flirting with you, Joel Miller."

You lied to Jesse earlier -- Joel has hundreds of expressions. He just keeps most of them for you. For Ellie, and Tommy, too. You know every one of them by now.

The look on his face now says he's thinking about kissing you again, maybe just to shut you up.

You grin at him. "Tell me about your patrol, now, seriously. Unless talking and using your hands at the same time is too much for you."

He smirks back. "Think we both know that ain't true."

"Now who's flirting?"

Lazy heat curls in your belly but fatigue stops it from turning into anything. Joel must see that in your eyes because he simply taps your chin with a knuckle and starts talking.

You start to slump as his Texas drawl wraps around you. He tells you how the lake was still, how he and Astrid saw bear tracks but no bear. How he found a tape for Ellie that he's going to give her tomorrow, how he wore his gloves today like you've been telling him to.

Some people might say that Joel is a man of few words. You thought he was the quiet type when you first met him, another stoic survivor in a world that demands hardness of everyone. But not shy, never shy. Just...waiting. Watching.

He and Ellie can shoot the shit for hours -- a dynamic they've fallen back into easily enough since they started spending time together again. He's funny, he's clever, he's annoying as shit when he wants to be.

And Joel is quite the storyteller. If you had to guess you'd say it comes from having to entertain Tommy when they were kids, from getting Sarah into bed on his own over and over. Keeping Ellie occupied, keeping her talking when things were scary and hard and fucking awful.

It's just another way he takes care of people.

"Still with me?" he says. You realize your eyes have closed. When you open them you find Joel looking at you with tenderness and a spark of amusement. The tense line of his shoulders is nowhere to be seen. "All done. Tired?"

"And hungry."

He washes his hands and throws away the various wrappers and blood-stained wipes.

"Sure you're awake enough to eat?" he teases.

You roll your eyes at him. He laughs.

"Joel," you say, catching his elbow. "Thank you."

"C'mon, now."

He looks like he wants to argue with you for saying it but reaches for you instead. He traces the cut on your forehead just like he did at the bottom of the stairs, brow drawn again. You can't tell what he's thinking as he drags his thumb down and around your eye, cupping your cheek fully for just a breath before releasing you and stepping towards the door.

"I'll heat some soup."

Dinner is quick and quiet, your energy sapped from you to the point of exhaustion. Everything aches, despite Joel's thorough care. When he suggests turning in early you don't protest.

He takes longer than you to get ready for bed. You slide under the worn duvet and wait, trying very hard to keep your eyes open. Your bruised ribs throb in time with your heartbeat and when Joel finally turns off the light and gets in bed next to you in his threadbare sleep pants he practically hauls you into his embrace.

You go willingly, tangling your legs and laying your head on the juncture of his neck and shoulder. You press your palm to his chest, fingers threading in the coarse hair. His heart thuds and it grounds you.

"I didn't get any good gossip off Jesse," you whisper. "On account of the whole surprise-infected thing."

He yawns. "S'pose it's a good excuse."

"Can I tell you something else?" you whisper. "A secret?"

Joel hums, lips brushing your temple as his hand snakes up your sleep shirt to press against your lower back.

Even though you know each other down to the bones, some things remain inexplicable. Parts of your pasts that linger in the darkest parts of you, the parts that stay shrouded until the moments like this. You don't have to be brave in the quiet hours of the night, entwined with him as you are. It's the safest place you'll ever be. Safe enough that you can crack open and let Joel in, let those steady and worn hands keep you together.

"I was scared today," you say into his neck. "When the stalker dragged me off the rope. I panicked, I --"

You don't tell him how your initial thought when you hit the ground was of him, how you closed your eyes tight and thought of your name from his mouth, of his smile when you come through the door. The stalker had its bony fingers digging into your ankle and you wondered if you'd ever feel Joel's hands on you again.

Death will come for you sooner or later and when it does it'll be Joel's face that you hold in your mind before it all ends.

But today, you kicked death until its stupid fucking mushroom skull caved in.

Joel presses his lips to your temple. You can feel his heart beating faster, as fast as yours. It's the only thing that betrays his own fear.

Wounds in this life often go deeper than the skin. When Joel comes home with bloody knuckles and shuttered eyes it's one thing to stop the bleeding, to bandage him and get him to eat something. It's another to hold him, to coax out the story, the fear. To follow him downstairs when he has a nightmare, to look for him in every room. It's all part of what you do as partners, as lovers, as people in this world. You take care of each other.

Neither of you can fix a lot of things. But you can ensure the scars heal into something light, something you can barely see.

You can hold each other in the dark.

"Scared me, too," he rasps. A secret for a secret. "Lotta damn blood."

You kiss the underside of his jaw. "Can't get rid of me that easy."

Joel pulls you closer, somehow, mindful of your side.

"Rest, now," he says. "You ain’t goin' anywhere."

It's a command, a promise. You hum your agreement and let sleep drag you under.

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here!

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #just and just as

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pupcuck · 3 months

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NYMPHOMANIA !

ft. leon s. kennedy x fem!reader

tags. daddy-daughter incest, femcel reader :3, reader wants to get raped so she talks about that, dub-con for like a paragraph, suicidal thoughts, awful thoughts in general, tiny bit of somno, threats, spanking, slapping

note. HAII :3 back on my femcel shit… god i rewrote this like 15 times and restarted over and over so i hate this 😭 it’s clunky so ignore any mistakes!!! feedback n rbs always so appreciated <3 was thinking of og4 leon but.. honestly idk atp !! anyway sorry again for the slow decrease in quality in this .. title has nothing to do w the fic ack ok bye :3

tumblr removes fics that use, for example, tw non-con and any nsfw tags in general from the tags. for this reason, as i’d like my fic to appear in the tags, please understand that this fic contains dark content under the cut. reading this comes at your own risk.

There are two things you want to get off your chest.

You are not, under any circumstances, ugly. Your face just takes getting used to. (This is a cope.)

You have a crush on your dad. No excuse for this one. Cupid is a conniving bastard. That’s that.

These might not seem like related issues, but they most certainly are because being ugly is hard, and having a crush on your dad is equally as hard.

You’re a sweet girl, you didn’t choose to come out ugly, it’s not your fault you turned out this way. It’s unfair, but ultimately no one meant for it to happen

(Well, you hope no one meant for it to happen unless someone had a vendetta against your mother and cursed her firstborn. She’s an irritating lady, you can see why someone would do so.)

You won’t even be the kind of below-average woman who marries a mediocre man to have mediocre sex to make mediocre kids to live in caustic mediocrity. You have one friend, she’s an online friend, and she might be a lonely old man. To be entirely honest you would prefer that. ‘Cause that would mean someone out there wants to creep on you.

If you weren’t ugly, having a crush on your dad would be socially acceptable. That’s why daddy-daughter porn spans pages and pages and pages of Pornhub. Everyone loves to watch a busty, blonde slut on her dad’s dick. If you didn’t have a crush on your dad, being ugly would be perfectly fine— No, that’s wrong.

Being ugly is never fine. Being ugly is on the same level as being a rapist. Being ugly in the presence of people who are objectively not ugly is, like, worse than being a rapist. ‘Cause all the dudes in high school were rapists in the making. Ted Bundy-style shit.

Grope an ugly bitch in the bathrooms and she wouldn’t speak up, and if she did— She just wouldn’t actually. Would be burnt at the stake Salem style. Hung. Crucifixion perhaps. Ugly girls aren’t good enough to die like martyrs did, however. Especially not ugly girls who cry wolf.

Why on God’s green earth would a hot guy go out of his way to slap a freaky-looking girl’s ass, right? Got girls lined up down the halls waiting for him to sign their perky tits, he doesn’t need to rape. It must be wishful thinking on her part, right? A wet dream she took as reality.

Why would you say that? Do you want to throw what he’s worked for down the drain? Accusations like this, they’re not jokes, y’know that? He’s got a scholarship, college wouldn’t take something like this so lightly.

Aw, you miss her. This goth chick in senior year. Your sorta friend. When it all went down and she had nowhere else to go, you invited her over because you’re a nice girl with no nefarious intentions. None at all. When she lay beside you at night, and she opened up, and she thanked you for believing her, you totally did not have your hand in your panties. And you totally did not rub yourself raw while she spoke about it in excruciating detail. You did not treat her rape case as erotica.

The dude got away with it of course. He was on TV the other day in fact. NFL. Baltimore Ravens. Still stupid hot. God, you wish it was you he picked - wouldn’t have told a single soul. Would’ve sucked the sweat from his jockstrap without complaint.

You’re too repulsive to be touched or raped, and you’ve learnt to live with that. Passing out in alleyways would result in rapists who frequent the area to avoid those very alleyways. Only your hand knows the cushiony softness of your tits, the wetness between your legs, how great your mouth feels— Only your dildo knows that, but you can imagine it’s good. You’re a total catch. A nympho. Men love nymphos when they’re pretty, which you are not. So you’re a nympho without the sex appeal. So in other words you are a pervert. A degenerate. A fucking freak.

It’s time to start sticking your fingers down your throat. ‘Cause that’s what gorgeous girls do to achieve that grave-robbed look. Heroin chic. Modelesque. It’s all the same type of beautiful. Emaciated and sickly. Dead girls are the sexiest ‘cause they can’t say yes or no and if there’s no no then it’s a yes. A nymphetic loophole of sorts. Men love dead girls that double as nymphos. Unfortunately, you are well and alive. Walking into traffic seems like fun, but you would be classed as roadkill, and it wouldn’t be tragically beautiful, just embarrassing to get scraped off the concrete like that. Even in death, you would be ugly because you are ugly to your very core. Your bone marrow is so ugly no scientist would want to make stem cells out of it, polynucleotides so deformed— You’re ugly. No need to wax poetic about it. Nothing poetic about being ugly.

Dad is the closest a human being can get to perfection. A divine image. Michelangelo is, like, dead and gone. David should've died alongside him. Dad deserves to take his place in the Accademia Gallery. With the way people gawk at him, he might as well be art. You’re surprised he doesn’t sell tickets to merely exist in his presence. He’s hot like a Calvin Klein model, and mom is hot like a regular model. Due to how you’ve turned out, you have a few qualms with your mother.

Like, what the fuck happened to you in her womb? Did someone take a mallet to one side of her belly to ensure her child came out as asymmetrical as one can be? A lack of nutrients maybe? Was she dieting during the pregnancy? Did dad fuck her too hard? Busted her womb up or some shit.

It simply might be that two rights make a wrong.

Or you were a tester before she popped your siblings out. Little ichor-filled putto. They were child models, scouted in their diapers, and you would stand behind your mother and the cameraman so hurt you couldn’t even feel jealous. Now they’re all grown up, fully-fledged erotes, and they’re working and doing all this shit you still haven’t managed to get a grasp on. Navigating the world as an ugly bitch is terribly hard.

Rape kinks are developed, dads get crushed on - awful, terrible things happen when girls are ugly and alone and unable to leave the comfort of their bedrooms.

Pretty girls have daddy issues that are dealt with in standard pretty girl fashion - finding emotionally unavailable, salt-and-pepper-haired men to fill every hole, including the one in their doll hearts. The thing is pretty girls don’t go for their dads. ‘Cause a lot of the time dads are gross. Dads do not look like your dad does. And to be fair you don’t exactly have daddy issues. Your dad is present and he doesn’t hit or shout or do anything out of the norm. Maybe this is a you issue.

It is a you issue, not even an ugly girl issue or an any type of girl issue. It’s your issue and yours alone.

It is your issue that when Leon asks what you want for dinner you almost ask for his hand around your throat or his hand in marriage. Either would be fine. Both would be preferred.

Severing your relationship would be even better. Goddamn, girls with absent fathers are lucky. You wish he was anything but your dad— It’s just that if you weren’t his daughter, dad wouldn’t ever look your way, he would pass by you like every man does.

Dad is a busy guy, and he’s a strange guy in the sense that he’s never really bothered with you. He loves your sister, and he loves your brother. But everyone loves those two. You don’t think he likes you very much, you can deal with that. Doesn’t mean you have daddy issues ‘cause no one likes you very much. So it’s a you issue and you should try harder.

Leon’s home early today. He’s collapsed on the couch, withered into himself like he always is after business trips. Mom said not to disturb him. You don’t. Then you do. This is like crack to you. Dad.

More specifically, dad without mom hovering over him. Dad’s sleeping so your brain is not stewed by his intense gaze. It only ever lingers on you for merely a second, but your stomach flips like you’ve got appendicitis and your legs spread involuntarily.

He’s a light sleeper, you’re well aware. He’s also a living, breathing Ken doll so you don’t put much thought into it when you reach out to ghost your fingers along the bridge of his nose. So pointy it could pierce your clit. Your clit. His nose. Oh, it could work so well, you want to grind yourself to mush against it.

Until dad shifts, he’s so beautiful up close you almost forget he’s real, not a wax figure. You trace the straight edge of his jaw, then thumb his petal lips, dragging your pointer finger over the fuller bottom one to push the tip into his wet mouth. Your dad is a slut. ‘Cause he sucks for a good second or two. Heat licks at your insides. You might vomit. His spit glistens like cobwebs when you take it back. That hand is shoved down your pants. That finger finds your clit, uses what spit is left to get it nice and wet. Which is totally unneeded, you’ve been soaked since god knows when, your pussy doesn’t know when to quit.

Feels good knowing that a part of dad is in you, his spit pushed into your hole. You’ll give him something back, it’s only fair, you smear your slick on the spot you traced. His tongue pokes out, likely to combat dry mouth, it swipes along his bottom lip— He tastes you. Heat engulfs you, chars your body from the inside out, the scent of rotting meat is in your nostrils.

Dad tasted you.

Holy fuck. You sit there with a trembling smile, staring down at him and he does not rouse. Shit, you’re creepy and you know it, but you’re not stupid. What other chance do you have? You unzip his old shearling jacket, underneath is that compression shirt that fits him too well. You map out the ridges of his abs, the slight dip between his pecs, every hard line that makes up his body. He smells so sexy, lavender and leather, must be some sorta pheromone ‘cause all you want to do is drop your face into his tits to bathe in that scent, to have it stick to your skin. Shit. Holy fucking shit. You’ve got a sex doll instead of a dad. That explains the distantness. He’s made of silicone.

The door clicks the moment you find it in yourself to click open his belt.

“What're you doing?” Mom ruins everything. She’s had it out for you the moment you formed in her womb. “He’s sleeping, don’t disturb him.” She says tersely, placing her Coach Tabby on the coffee table.

“He was cold.” That’s why his nipples are peaking, piercing the fabric of that shirt. Should be illegal to wear that in public. He’s asking for it.

“Yeah?” She asks, unconvinced, bending down to unclasp her heels.

“Yeah.” You stand up, dad’s indirect kiss on your cunt, shoot her a nasty sneer before you scuttle away to your bedroom for the rest of the day.

There are stairs that creak and stairs that don’t. You hang around down here at midnight often so you know the right path to take as to not alert your parents of your presence. They’re speaking about you.

“—be careful around her.” Truly, you hate your mother.

“What is there to be careful about?” Right? You tell her dad.

“Just, just be careful. She doesn’t y’know.”

“She doesn’t what?”

“She doesn’t get off her ass, she doesn’t talk to anyone but, well, I don’t know actually, she doesn’t talk to anyone at all.” You could pretend and say it hurts, but it doesn’t. There’s nothing insulting about the truth.

“What’s that got to do with me?”

“You’re a guy, she doesn't talk to guys.”

“We don’t talk much either.” Dad is too stiff to make conversation, and you collapse anytime he breathes in your general direction.

“Yeah, but, Leon.” Mom sounds exasperated, but she’s not getting her point across well. She should know better, dad’s skull is thicker than cement. “I’m worried.”

“What, for me or her?”

“Her, obviously, I don’t want her to… I want her to get out, like, I want her to do stuff,” mom sniffles, she is so putting this on to make dad feel guilty. “It’s so hard to watch your adult daughter just sit in a room and do nothing all day, Leon, she’s like a big fucking baby, why is she like that?”

“Babe,” he coos, and your knees buckle.

“Go talk to her.”

“What?”

“Go talk to her about it,” Mom repeats, voice shaking. “She doesn’t listen to me.”

They go back and forth for a few minutes, and then dad sighs and says fine. You make haste back to your hovel that doubles as a bedroom, crawl into bed and try to look natural.

Leon clears his throat before he knocks, when you don’t answer he pokes his head in. He says your name and you stir, sheets taut to your body as you peek up at him.

“You should open a window in here.”

When you don’t respond, he sits at the foot of your bed, looks around and nods. His gaze is scathing. Not purposefully. You just take it that way.

“Dinner’s ready,” he lies, then he leaves. His perfume lingers, and you touch the space he was sitting in, his warmth remains.

The day after that, you’re in the living room, tuckered out after mom forced you to help her with the groceries. You’re not cut out for this sort of life. The living sort of life. You were made to rot.

“Door wasn’t locked,” Leon says when he steps in, he puts his keys down, shucks his jacket off, tracks mud halfway down the hall and into the kitchen.

“Your shoes, Leon,” Mom groans, “she came in last.”

“Oh, sorry,” you say absentmindedly. If it doesn’t include tits or dicks or pussy it is none of your business. You have enough energy to keep up with one thing and that is your porn addiction. Groceries really took it out of you.

“You should be careful, rapists might come in, murderers or some shit.” Leon is speaking to your mother. Not you because he has seen your face and he knows very well that an ugly girl like you would survive out of sheer ugliness.

Mom snorts, “I think you’re the scariest thing that could walk through that door, honey.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, huh?”

You’d like to know what that means too. Well, you get the gist, ‘cause you’ve heard all those stories. Dad and his wandering hands.

“You know what that means.” The sound of lips smacking is enough to have you feeling sick, dizzy as you cling to the walls and make your escape. “Did she leave— Quit it, Leon— Hands off, can you go talk to her, please? Properly this time.”

He forgets to knock this time, or he can’t bother to knock. Dad sits in that same spot, he opens his mouth and closes it about five times.

“Mom’s worried about you,” Leon says robotically. “You good?”

“I’m great.” Your tone is unconvincing, but he clearly doesn’t care enough because you're his dirty little secret. Not in a sex way. You would do anything for it to be in the sex way. Dirty little secret as in the ugly kid he chooses to ignore purely because you’re ugly. Dad doesn’t like ugly girls, you know that. He doesn’t think they’re worth a second glance, even a first glance is too much. Dad is superficial and his love is plastic.

These are all things you’re making up in your head based on assumptions. This is how all attractive men think. Ugly girls aren’t worth rape, dirtying your dick in ugly pussy sounds like a hassle. If you were pretty, you wouldn’t fuck an ugly guy. Even as a self-proclaimed ugly girl, you still wouldn’t fuck an ugly guy ‘cause they’re gross, and it’s not like they want you. Ugly guys shoot high and aim for pretty girls. Duh.

So you get it. Honestly. Whatever. Dad doesn’t like you. That’s okay, you don’t like him as a dad anyway. You love him like an obsessive lover. A hallway crush that stars in your late-night rape fantasies. And you’re fine like this. You’re so fine.

“Can I… Can I actually have a hug, dad?” You muster up what is left in your hollow heart to ask him that. It’s a big deal.

Leon blinks at you, levels you with his blank stare. He’s so handsome you want to blow your brains out, it’s an easy feat because you’re always looking for reasons to blow your brains out. Every straw is your last and yet you’re still here.

“Sure, sweetheart.” Dad opens his arms, and you crawl towards him, head on his shoulder as his arms loop around your waist. Oh, god, you will your heart into giving out. Dying right here in dad’s arms is ideal.

He holds you so gently it’s brutal. He crushes you with the weight of his loveless love. Dad’s so good at pretending you almost think he cares.

“Can you… I want to stay like this.”

“Uh, sure, sweetheart,” Leon calls everyone sweetheart. Sweetheart is his default. Sweetheart ranges from Auntie Ashley to babysitters to lifeguards and retail workers who aren’t getting paid enough to deal with some old man making eyes at them. Not that anyone minds dad’s attention. It’s fucking unfair. Mom is babe, and your sister is baby, and your brother is buddy or sport or tiger or whatever shit he pulls out of his ass. And you’re sweetheart because you’re not important to him. His firstborn daughter is not important to him ‘cause she’s ugly. More of a specimen than a human.

You would do anything to keep him here.

“Dad?” You whisper into his neck.

“…Yeah?”

“I want you to…” Your lack of life flashes in front of your eyes. Bedroom. Bedroom. Porn. Bedroom. Porn. Porn. Dad. Not much. What have you got to lose? “I want to— I want to fuck you.”

Dad is silent. Then: “Oh.” He never makes the move to pull away, so you sit snugly in his grip for a few seconds longer.

“I— Dad, I touch myself thinkin’ about you.” Your stomach ties itself into a Gordian knot.

“Yeah, okay, why don’t we— Yeah, fuck, I see what she meant, okay. Wow, that’s a lot. Sweetheart, why… Listen.” Dad says a whole lot of nothing as he takes your hands off him.

“Please… I love you, dad. I really like you— I know it’s weird, dad, I do, seriously, I know, but please I just… I just like you.” There is no explanation for it. “Dad… Daddy.”

He full-on winces. It’s like you’re being flayed. Something inside of you just— Just shatters. Not your heart ‘cause it’s pumping more blood than it ever has. Fragments of your sanity splinter into even smaller segments until there is nothing left but nauseating levels of mental disturbance.

“If you don’t…”

“You seriously trying that right now?” Leon scoffs, and he’s so cocky you get hot under the collar.

(Between your thighs too, but that’s a different story.)

“Yeah, I’m serious— If you don’t… If you don’t do it- do it with me, I’ll tell mom you… I’ll tell her you raped me.” In actuality, you would never tell mom if daddy raped you. You would treasure it, keep it in a heart-shaped locket and think about it when you get off twelve times a day. Getting your pussy reamed by dad’s cock would fix you right up.

“Don’t— Are you okay?” Leon smacks your hand away, his tone is even.

“You do it too— I know you’ve done it, I know how you and mom met.”

His face drains, pallor yellowish. “That don’t… That’s different.”

“How is that any different?” Different ‘cause he’s hot and mom is hot. Leon passed it off as a drunken mistake and they end up getting together. It’s not rape if the perpetrator is a hottie. You agree, but still— It’s not fucking fair.

“‘Cause I didn’t do this.” Leon gestures abstractly.

You kiss him, hands braced on each of his tits, digging your fingers into the meat to feel him tense and harden like he’s wearing a chest plate. “You’re so hot dad,” you whine into his mouth, and Leon is quick to push you off, your wrists in his hands. Makeshift handcuffs.

“Listen, sweetheart,” Dad is using his dad voice. It’s like porn to you, only makes you wetter. “I don’t like hitting girls, but you’re givin’ me a damn good reason.”

“You can hit me, daddy.” You offer your face to him, stretching your neck forward, closing your eyes as you wait for the impact. It lands firm on your cheek, his fingertips catching the tip of your nose. Fuck that felt good. Shit. You think you’ve creamed your panties. “Again, dad, hit me again—“ He does. Harder than the last time. Your head knocks backwards, and your brain must have a dent in it.

Dad puts you over his lap and you’re so sure you’ve entered the pearly gates. Or the innermost circle of hell. Probably that ‘cause Jesus Christ are you steaming.

“I hate stupid little sluts that try it out on me,” Leon drags your sweats over the swell of your ass, “Do you have a dick?”

“What, dad— No!” You tell him, more mortified at his question than you are by your bare ass under his palm. Fuck— You’re so wet it’s disgusting, dripping down your thighs and surely staining his lap. Thick like treacle.

“No? Were you gonna rape dad with this stupid cunt?” Oh, you hope he spanks your pussy. Porn makes it look delicious. “You look like you might have a dick with that face of yours.” He traces the seam of your cunt through your panties. “Or is your pussy just fat?”

Good fucking lord.

“Dad…” You arch into him, only to have a hand come down on your left ass cheek. One. Two. Three. They all hurt bad as each other. Four. “Ouch!” That one hurt real bad. Five. You feel like a naughty child. This is not as hot as you thought it would be. More dull and embarrassing. Not even the good kind of embarrassing.

Leon puts you on your knees, the hand wrapped around your jaw forces your lips into a pout, and you think he is going to kiss you— God, you close your eyes and wait for it, lean into him, shit you’d pop your leg if you were standing up. He spits in your face and it trickles down the bridge of your nose.

“Got me dirty with that filthy pussy.” Dad speaks offhandedly, he speaks to you like you’re dog shit. Not dog shit stuck to the bottom of his shoe. Just dog shit on the side of the road. Like the sort that bothers you enough to complain about it, but it doesn’t ignite any real anger.

His hand remains tight on your jaw, then he drops it to fish his fat cock from his pants to slap the drippy head on your cheek. The sound ricochets off the walls. Hits you like a bullet. Holy fuck. Dad really just did that. You giggle, batting your lashes up at him as pretty as an ugly girl can, and he grimaces so it can’t be pretty.

“Christ, you nasty fuck,” Leon snickers at the look on your face, “What’s wrong with you?”

“Daddy,” you whimper, nosing the tip of his dick, he smells so good you want him in your mouth, “I jus’ love you lots.”

“God, I hate ugly little freaks like you.” He said that already, no need to rub it in. Another slap of his cock on your face. Your heart beats for him and him alone. “You know what I think?” Dad guides his cock into your warm mouth. “Shit, that’s good— I think your mom is a liar.”

His dick is all you’ve ever wanted. It’s heavy on your tongue, though the longer you suckle on the tip, the weightier it gets, and he’s wet. Dripping all over the place. You must get that gene from your dad.

“‘Cause I don’t think,” he grunts, palm resting on your forehead to push you off his shaft, “I don’t think I could make a kid this ugly.”

“No,” you say breathlessly, “No, you’re my dad, my daddy.” Crouched down below him, you lave over his balls, putting more effort into this than you have done with anything else in your life. Gargling dad’s balls is your best work. Nothing else you have to be proud of.

Your pussy is pulsing, shit has its own heartbeat, you drop your hand down to soothe your poor cunt, rubbing figure eights into the bulge of your clit over your panties. It’s not enough, you push them to the side, your fingers slip a couple times, not enough, only dad’s fingers are enough, only his cock will plug up your leaking hole.

“Get off me,” dad instructs, and you might be glued to him, but you detach yourself immediately. “C’mon, stand up.” You use his thighs as leverage, standing on shaky legs that threaten to give out at any second. He takes your shirt off. “Cute tits gone to waste,” dad sighs like it’s heartbreaking. “We could've done something about it, y’know? Could fix your face right up, just had to ask daddy.”

“Really, dad? I want to be pretty, daddy, I want to be pretty for you, you never call me pretty— Daddy, I want to be pretty, please.” You clasp his shirt, and he brings you into his lap once more, raising your legs to slide your panties down so you’re free bleeding on his lap. Free bleeding without the blood. Just good old pussy.

“Messin’ with you, sweetheart, can’t fix that dog face,” dad coos to you tenderly, and the plain-as-day insult flies right over you. Dad could get you to sell both your kidneys if he keeps talking to you like that. “Just gotta live with it.”

You have. You have lived with it. That’s what you do. Live with your ugly face. You could die, that’s an option, but you choose to wait it out. ‘Cause dying is pretty scary no matter how much you want it. And Leon’s dick is hard beneath your pussy so there are things to live for. The world isn’t all cruel.

“Up,” he taps your lower back, you raise your hips and he presses his cock to your stretched hole. Toy after toy after toy. All to ready yourself for dad. When you sink down on him, your body convulses. It’s the sweet release of death. Or an orgasm. Fuck. Dying on dad’s cock is— You haven’t died on his dick, he fucks you through your high, feet planted firmly on the ground as he thrusts upwards, dick angled just right.

Heroin is meant to be good. You’ve seen Trainspotting. Better than any cock— You don’t believe that for a minute. Unless he’s leaking smack straight into your pussy, numbing your walls. Could be that ‘cause god— You’re not really thinking, not that you think much, when you decide to shove your fingers into his mouth.

“Daddy, can you taste me?” You ask him, giving a languid grind of your hips down onto his cock, you regret it immediately ‘cause it’s so good your cunt squelches loudly. “Do you taste me, dad? Dad—“

“Yeah,” Dad says, muffled, “Shoving your fingers down my fuckin’ throat, you little psycho, ‘course I taste it.”

Shit. Shit. Shit. Daddy looks so pretty with his lips wrapped around your fingers, you fuck them in and out of his pink mouth, his tongue runs along the length of your fingers like he’s sucking a nice cock. Treating your fingers better than you did his dick.

Daddy’s splitting you in two. He fucks you without a care in the world. ‘Cause he doesn’t care about you. One-time-use pussy. You’re disposable like the gloves you get with box dye. Like a plastic spork. His cock is so deep he might as well tear open your middle and fuck your guts. Leon grabs your hips, forces you up and drops you down. The air in your lungs has no time to build up— You grasp at his shirt, bouncing in his lap like you’re a fleshlight, and you would be so happy with that title. Dad’s personal fleshlight. It makes you giddy.

Leon’s cock twitches inside of you, when he lifts you off of him, your pussy clings to the tip, holding on for dear life, insistent on milking daddy’s dick, taking every drop of his cum.

“Daddy…” Your head drops to his shoulder. “Please, daddy, am I pretty? Can you call me pretty?”

His hips stutter, and you don’t have to see his face to know he hesitates. It’s a struggle to call a girl like you pretty. “You’re so pretty, sweetheart.” Then he dumps his load so deep— So deep, you warm to the thought of having your daddy’s baby. You already fucked so why not go the extra mile?

Dad doesn’t kiss you, but he lays you down and tucks you in like he never has before. “Your mom’s worried.” He goes back to the topic at hand and you groan, covering your face with a pillow. “Hey, we can, uh…” Leon scratches his head. “We can y’know…” He shrugs, glances down at you. “Can do that if you try pulling your weight a little.”

The promise of your dad’s cock is enough to have you applying for every job in a thirty-mile radius. Dad’s cock is a fix for an ugly girl like you. You’ve got a pussy only your daddy could love, and you think you’re more than okay with that.

#leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #resident evil smut #resident evil x reader #resident evil x you

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shotmrmiller · 5 months

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Submitting to his dominance part I

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

TW: mean dominant, rough oral

18+ MDNI

WC: 1.5k

Being Johnny’s best friend had its downsides. Like how he essentially forced you into ‘guy talk’. Yeah, sure, you liked women too. But having to listen to him rant about his conquests was going to make you tear your hair out. You liked women, you did, but this buffoon going on about what he liked to do in bed was too much. He was essentially your brother from another mother. Ew.

An hour into his stories, you tell him that if you have to sit through any more of his freaky sexcapades, you might just murder him. And that’s how he brings up Ghost. You’ve met him several times— being Johnny’s residential pest. He was a big motherfucker who always had his face covered. You always were a sucker for the tall, dark, and mysterious type but he always seemed uninterested in everything— including you.

“Ye think I’m a reprobate, hen, ye should hear ‘bout Ghost! He’s the freaky one! Telling the lasses he’s with to kneel and behave or will spank them ‘til they cry. Ghost is a skyrocket, I tell ya!” And that gets your attention.

“What?” you blurt out.

“Yeah, hen! He’s into the whole collar and gags— boorish if ye ask me.”

You could kiss Johnny. Having more than dabbled in the world of BDSM, you knew you could handle many things— maybe even more than what Ghost offered. You bite back an ecstatic smile as Johnny continues with his story-telling, but you aren’t listening anymore.

Unbeknownst to Johnny, he’s just given you a way into Ghost’s trousers.

━

You lounge on the couch as Ghost and Johnny sit around the island drinking. By the sound of Johnny talking in cursive, he’s more than a little sloshed. Then he slaps his hand on the countertop, the sound startling you, and declares how he’s gonna go take a piss. You roll your eyes. Charming.

He stumbles away and then it’s just you two in the living area. This is your only chance. Steeling your nerves, you make your move.

“Hey. Ghost.”

He turns his head to the side a little, a cue that he’s listening.

“I have a proposition for you.” Then stand up and make your way towards him, casually leaning against the island. Ghost looks completely lax, but his eyes sparkle with slight interest.

Now or never.

You summon your courage and say, “Johnny spoke of you being dominant in bed. I want you to dominate me.”

He looked at you with a hooded gaze, before scoffing.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, pet.”

That’s not an outright no. This horse isn’t dead yet, so you’re gonna continue to beat it.

“Said you like to collar your women. Keep them quiet with a gag. I can crawl on my knees if you ask it of me. I’ll speak when spoken to.”

Ghost’s shoulders are stiff as he stares around your face as if trying to catch a sign of a prank. He inhales and looks like he’s about to shut you down completely but you talk first.

“My safeword is Pelican. I like to be ordered around, spanked, and tied up. I promise to surrender myself completely. I promise to be a good girl for you.”

Ghost sits there, looking at you in complete silence. Your heart pounds in your ears, your cheeks warming in embarrassment. Maybe he’s not interested. Maybe Johnny had been joking. God, you didn’t even think about it being a bloody joke.

You straighten, getting ready to either run away or curl up and die when two big hands grab onto your hips— keeping you in place.

“You want to be dominated, eh?” and pulls you to stand in between his legs.

“I’m not going to be kind,” and tightens his grip on you, “I’m not going to murmur sweet nothings in your ear. I’m going to use you for my pleasure— like my personal sex toy.”

One hand moves from your waist to grab your hair in a vicious grip and pulls you down to his eye level, close to his masked face.

“Oh, pet. I’m going to ruin you.”

You swallow hard because you know he is and can’t wait but then the sound of the bathroom door opening brings you back into the present. Ghost lets go of your hair and you jump back, putting space between you.

As you run your fingers through your hair, Johnny stumbles into the kitchen, tripping over a chair. Positively pissed. You move to catch him, putting his arm over your shoulder, yours around his waist to hold him upright.

“Right, Johnny boy, it’s time for bed.” you chuckle at his drunken mumbles.

After tucking him in, you head back to the kitchen. To Ghost. You watch him put his used glass into the sink before crossing his arms and leaning back. Expectantly. As you’re about to walk to him, he holds his hand up in a stopping gesture.

“No. You’re gonna be a good girl f’me, remember?” he cocks his head to the side, and with finality in this tone says, “Crawl.”

Oh. Your heart is about to burst out of your chest. It starts now. Your reaction is visceral— dropping to your knees so hard they’ll be bruised tomorrow. Holding eye contact, you slowly drag your body towards him. One hand forward, then a leg. Repeat.

Reaching his feet, you keep your palms flat on Johnny’s wooden floor and arch your back to look up at Ghost with wide eyes. He looks cool, indifferent. But the bulge in his jeans tells you otherwise.

You wait for him patiently, continuously holding eye contact and it feels like an hour has passed before he talks. Commands.

“Take my cock out.”

Your thighs tremble in anticipation, your pussy throbbing at his words. Hands to his waist, you can’t unbuckle his belt fast enough. You hook your fingers into his pants and pull hard enough that you hear a seam unstitch. That earns you a slap across the cheek, hard enough to sting.

“Careful.” You wish you could say it was a reprimand but the feel of his calloused fingers on the soft skin of your cheeks sends a jolt straight to your cunt.

Pants down, you stare at his cock. It’s a goddamn sight. Long and so very thick, heavy enough that even erect, it bends downward— foreskin covers half of the head and balls hang low. A masterpiece.

Another slap to your cheek snaps you out of your adoration.

“Open your mouth, pet.”

He tastes of salt and his musk. You could sit here with him in your mouth forever. You go as deep as you can take him and he hisses when you hold him there until you gag and pull back— getting the stringy saliva from the back of your throat onto his cock. Flattening your tongue, you start to bob on his length until he’s properly wet.

Ghost puts his hand on your head and begins to rock his hips and you start to add a twist with your head on every thrust. Soon, you feel him leaking more salty precum and know he’s close so you start sucking— cheeks sinking in. His thrusts start to get harsher and sloppier and the noises coming from your throat as he fucks it is sinful.

His grip shifts from your head to your hair and you put your hands on his thighs— digging your nails into his skin and he growls out, “That’s it. Come on, pet, you can take it.”

Then there’s salty blooming on your tongue, cum leaking from the corners of your mouth because there’s simply no more room with his cock in it— dripping down your chin and onto the floor. It’s completely silent apart from Ghost’s stuttering breaths and Johnny’s muffled snoring behind his closed door.

Ghost pulls out his softening length and tucks it away, pulling his jeans back up but leaving the belt unbuckled. He then cups your jaw and makes you watch him watch you swallow his cum.

He gives you a light tap on your reddened cheek from his previous slaps and breathily says, “Atta girl. I didn’t even have to tell you what to do.”

Your knees throb and your thighs burn but his compliment makes every single ache worth it. Any crumb of praise from him, you’ll take.

He bends down to your kneeled form before saying, “Next week, I’m gonna pass by your flat. Until then, you do not masturbate, you do not come— And I don’t care what you tell Johnny but make sure he doesn’t visit.” and turns to leave.

Clearing your throat, you croak out, “But you don’t even have my address.”

Holding the door open, Ghost shrugs.

“Don’t have to tell me. I know where you live, pet.” The noise of the door clicking shut echoed through the apartment. With a groan, you put your arse on the floor and slowly extend your knees— hissing at the sharp pain of your knees finally unbending. Ghost is mean. So mean. How does he expect you to not touch yourself when the cum still drying on your chin has you soaking your knickers?

@thychuvaluswife

A/N: ha ha! hes a lean mean machine! i had way too much fun writing this i need help

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #cod #cod mw2 #cod mwii #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost simon riley #simon ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost x reader

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invasato · 2 years

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anyone have experience with using witch hazel as a deodorant replacement 😑

#i think if i have to feel deodorant on my skin one more time ill flip my lid. but i also dont want to smell bad or ill die #a lot of people think natural human smells are bad and i dont think that way but i do not enjoy smelling like bo so like. yk #i think my life would be so much easier if i just lived alone in a shack in the woods actually #i feel too freaky to live with people :-( ugghhhh. i dont even remember what witch hazel smells like #chirping

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despapillon · 5 months

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having Will be abused by his father, bullied and shamed for his sexuality, kidnapped by a psycho monster, searched for an entire season all while he struggles to stay alive in another dimension, rescued, have to live with the trauma, bullied now also for being a 'zombie', possessed by an evil eldritch creature, manage to break free of it’s influence just for a little bit thanks to his loved ones to send them a message knowing it means sacrificing himself too, get burnt by a fire poker, be in a way involved in the deaths of ppl including his mom’s bf that could have became a father to him, get separated from the creature but still have a connection to the other dimension and a freaky balding serial killer that mentally tortures kids, have to watch his friends dismiss him in favor of their gfs when he just wants to play games and is afraid of growing up and have them try to rush through a dnd campaign he put effort into yet they act bored and make a joke out of it, when he points out he is hurt his crush makes a jab at his sexuality while dismissing his concerns and acting as if he’s wrong for just wanting to hang out with friends, get so broken by this situation to the point he uses a bat to destroy what was a safe place for him to stay when he was a child and pictures of him and his friends, never get an apology from Mike for all of this, then have to move to Cali and get separated from everyone, when he is there barely get calls from Mike while El gets tons of letters but he is too anxious to reach out to Mike himself because let’s be honest considering how he got treated by him in season 3 it’s a reasonable fear to have, when Mike finally visits he tries to hug but instead gets an awkward pat-or-whatever-the-fuck-that-was, have to watch Mike and El be all cutesy and straight up just going on a date while he tags along in the background knowing El is deceiving Mike, then after she gets viciously bullied get accused of being a douche to her, when he brings up he was a third wheel and Mike didn’t reach out to him he gets dismissed again, finally gets an apology and gains hope to the point he gains courage to take the painting but then decides to sacrifice his happiness and give it to Mike and lie to him because he thinks Mike can never love him and wants to make him feel better by disguising his feelings as supposedly El’s with the whole interaction making him breakdown all nextto Mike that doesn’t notice while his brother watches it all, have to watch El close to dying and hear Mike admitting his life started when he met El which is during the period Will got kidnapped to another dimension and then come back to Hawkins and witness the start of an apocalypse only to………

just die in season five? that’s it? why would anyone think that is the ending meant for Will? they won’t kill him, no way.

#stranger things #byler #will byers

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whyse7vn · 1 month

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CARDBOARD BOX -

[ ot7 x reader ]

BTW ☠️😂

8 participants - 8 online

———————————

hobi: thinking about when we all lived together and jimin would make jungkook tap dance for food

jk: good times :D

namjoon: but jungkook cant tap dance?

jimin: exactly

namjoon: so you starved jungkook?

jk: no i tapped??

jin: horribly

jk: :(

tae: i liked it

jk: honestly 🥺?

tae: honestly

jk: :D

hobi: why is joon acting like he wasn’t there to witness it???

namjoon: sorry

i just tend to block out the traumatic memories i have with you guys

which is most of them

jin: jungkook was the one dancing for food not you

namjoon: being a witness to that was traumatic

yoongi: it was funny

jk: thank u

yoongi: no

namjoon: moving on

y/n: remember when jungkook would like disappear for 4 hours everyday and come back to the dorms at like 5 am

hobi: OMG YES

jimin: the era where he hated us 😪

yoongi: bring it back

jk: i didn’t hate you guys ☹️

tae: he was just getting his dick wet don’t worry about it

namjoon: he was barley 16?

tae: pussy slayer since 05 😝

namjoon: 05??

yoongi: he was 7 in 05

jin: victim since 05

jimin: jin was like 27 in 05

jin: ??unprovoked

and not fucking true

jimin: as long as you’re alive i’m provoked

y/n: 27 in 05 is crazy

jimin: i’m saying like 😭

hurry up and die maybe?

hobi: bros 31 ☠️

namjoon: ok stop guys

jin: fucking hate all of you

jk: omg it’s raining outside i’m so sad :((

tae: my fault stepped outside and mother nature just couldn’t contain herself

she freaky like that

hobi: paying for ur assassination

jk: what does that even mean

tae: the sky squirting for me bro

jk: oh

that’s nice didn’t know that was possible !!

can you make her stop tho

tae: tell namjoon to step outside and she’ll stop

namjoon: ???

tae: it will be hot and dry as shit if joon steps out ong

jk: namjoon pls step outside

namjoon: kook you need to stop taking tae’s word for things

jk: what

i take no words

i have my own

namjoon: nvm

y/n: life would be so much fun if one of you was a crack addict

jin: ????

yoongi: freak

hobi: real

jimin: namjoon is right here like….

namjoon: leave me ALONE

jk: i’ll be a crack addict for you

tae: i’ll be a better addict

jk: NO YOU WONT

tae: YES I WILL

y/n: shut up

jk: sorry ☺️💕💖

tae: i could so break jungkook’s legs

jk: ☹️

how will i tap?

hobi: you don’t need to tap anymore kook

ur free from that life

y/n: tap by taeyong

jimin: he may be free from tapping in this life but is the tapping life free from him?

yoongi: what

jimin: mentally jungkook is still my little tapping slut

jk: aw man ://

namjoon: did you need to call him a slut??

can we just be nice

jimin: yes i needed to call him a slut

he’s a slut

tae: he was sixteen tapping for you

ur calling a sixteen year old a slut

guys i think jimin is really weird for that actually

jk: me 2

jimin: so?????

you literally said he was fucking at 16 you indirectly called him a slut too

jk: right !!!!

tae: UMM NO???

i called him a pussy slayer actually

and that could mean anything

jk: like what?

tae: shut up jungkook

jk: ok

i’m sorry

it’s still raining

i’m upset

jin: anyways i think yoongi could be nicer

yoongi: ?????

y/n: yoongi’s great

jin: TO YOU

yoongi is actually really really mean and we need to talk about it

jk: i also think yoongi’s great !!

when i was sad about getting old and sick he told me i probably won’t get cancer and most likely die from getting stabbed at 30 on the 12th of december 3pm

namjoon: oh

y/n: yoongi….

yoongi: no cancer !!

jk: NO CANCER ^0^ !!!!!!

tae: yoongi being cold and mysterious will only get you so far in life

jk: yoongi don’t be cold

🔥🔥🔥

here

y/n: jungkook ur so silly

where are you

i want to bite you

jk: 😳

OMW HOME I PROMISE

WON’T BE LONG I SWEAR

jimin: take me back to the days where you had to buy bitches 46 plots of land and a horse to get pussy

i can’t do this being dumb ass hell shit

hobi: maybe ur just ugly idk??

jimin: ????

yo wtf

hobi????????????

hobi: who said that not me whatttt?

jin: that’s why taemin has jimin blocked

jimin: HE DOES NOT HAVE ME BLOCKED

yoongi: woah ok?

jimin: just saying

anyways

jin: ur ugly 😂

jk: beauty is subjective

yoongi: do you even know what that means?

jk: yes ofc ??

maybe…

no 😔

tae: subjective sex

namjoon: stop

tae: SUBJECT SEX

i class i would love to participate in

y/n: is this you telling us you don’t know how to have sex???

tae: NO

this is me telling you i love sex and partake in it often

hobi: stds

jk: i’m confused

why do you want to take a class on it then ???

y/n: right

you wanting to take a sex class implies you know little on the subject of sex actually

tae: SHUT THE HELL UP

jimin: nothing about my beauty is subjective btw

it’s fact

jin: that ur ugly

yoongi: lol

jimin: namjoon tell them i’m not ugly

namjoon: guys he’s not ugly

jin: he’s really ugly

y/n: namjoon tell tae to stop shouting

namjoon: taehyung stop shouting

tae: NO

NAMJOON TELL KOOK AND Y/N I KNOW HOW TO FUCK

namjoon: kook y/n taehyung knows how to fuck

hobi: namjoon i wont lie to you but u lowkey a bitch

jin: right

namjoon: thank you for that hobi and jin i also love you very much

jk: ohmygod joon loosing his mind again

that is NOT what they said

joon come back to us

fight this namjoon fight it

hobi: fighting by bss

yoongi: who fighting?

jimin: joon and his crippling coke addiction

coke winning

namjoon: can we not

tae: i’ll laugh when you overdose

y/n: exo core

namjoon: i just helped you what is ur issue??

jin: do you notice how yoongi appeared again when the word fighting was said????

we NEED to have this man locked up i’m telling you

yoongi: i’ll have you sectioned

jin: WHAT THE FUCK?????

NAMJOON TELL HIM TO TAKE THAT BACK

namjoon: yoongi take that back

please

yoongi: i take it back

jin: good

yoongi: not

jk: yikes jin he got you

yoongi ur really cool

yoongi: shut up

jk: sorry 😆

y/n: stop being mean

yoongi: cant help it :3

tae: who wants to see me split a watermelon with one hand

jk: ME ME

OHMYGOD ME I DO I DO

I WANT TO SEE

PLEASE SHOW ME PLEASE BEOFRE I PASSED OUT PLEASE

PICK ME TAE I WANT TO SEE ME MEMEMEMEMEMEMMEMEME

hobi: tae how is ur financial situation these days

tae: kill yourself

hobi: ok wtf???

i was just asking

tae: jungkook im sorry but no broken watermelon today blame hoseok

jk: hobi what the hell man i was really looking forward to the broken watermelon

y/n: i heard tae filed for bankruptcy

tae: NOT TRUE

jimin: i heard he lives in a cardboard box

tae: SHUT UP I DONT

jk: tae omg……… 😧

is this true

tae: NO OBVIOUSLY NOT

YOU WERE AT MY HOUSE YESTERDAY

AND I ORDERED US FOOD

jk: pls dont shout at me

i’m trying to remember if your house was a cardboard box or not

jimin: (it was)

tae: NAMJOON

namjoon: guys

jimin: ur no fun

y/n: sorry 😔

tae: yeah

you guys better be sorry

stupid idiots

jimin: shut up broke boy

namjoon: jimin please

jimin: whatEVER

tae: namjoon i don’t say this a lot because normally it wouldn’t be true but man i love you

guys i think me and namjoon were married in our past lives

cuz like were so in tune with each other

like he just gets me

i get him

i believe in every life we find each other

like we get married in every single life except this one

namjoon: no offence but in every life i would find you and divorce you if that were true

tae: oh

y/n: LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOO

yoongi: lol

jimin: no i see it the crack addict and the broke bitch love story

tae: at least someone gets it

nvm

should of read the whole message first

u guys are just closed minded

im telling you me an namjoon are like super alike someone thought i was him yesterday and he was so real and right for that

jk: i thought you said that guy that called you rm in the park yesterday was a racist not real or right

tae: jungkook

jk: yeah ^0^

tae: stop talking rn

jk: okay😵

hobi: cocaine is like really expensive how would tae and joon work out

tae wont be able to help feed into joons addiction

y/n: why do you know that cocaine is expensive

hobi: i know a lot of things that just happenes to be one of them

jimin: if you think about it when have you ever seen a crackhead be like nah im not gonna have crack today

they make that shit happen no matter what

and i think thats what attracts tae and joon together

like joon will do anything and everything to get his fix and tae would do anything and everything to have a place to sleep so their hardworking nature is what leads them to love

yeah

jin: ok !!!!!!

jimin i think you need a hobby or something

that was…. a lot

yoongi: shut up

jin: WHAT DID I DO???? AM I WRONG OR DID YOU ACTUALLY ENJOY JIMINS MINI FANFIC LIKE?????????

yoongi: i’ll punch you

jin: and i believe that!

shutting up #now

hobi: i wish i was mark lee rn

he probably doing something really canadian as we speak

jk: like what?

hobi: idk being nice

jimin: you called me ugly five minutes ago

you could never be mark lee

hobi: that literally wasn’t me i have no idea what ur talking about sorry i’m actually mark lee rn so i fr don’t know what ur talking about dude sorry dude i have to go on stage and dance with nct 127 now and then i have vocal practice with nct dream right after so i’m sorry dude i like have zero idea what ur talking about like actually like a sticker 2 baddies beatbox

me as mark lee and scene

jk: 10/10 really believable idk mark lee but i really though you were him for a second

y/n: great performance thought mark was here fr almost kissed you passionately on the mouth

yoongi: what

hobi: thank u thank u

you can still kiss me tho haha lol as mark or not idm

y/n: ok omg come here!!!

hobi: FR?????

y/n: no !!!!!!

but i did imagine us kissing like last week for like five seconds

hobi: yesssss 🙌 😝

a win is a win

yoongi: its not a win

she threw up at the thought

y/n: no i didn’t

yoongi: yes you did

you told me

y/n: i DID’NT

stop trying to gaslight me

it wont work

tae: have you imagined me naked

jimin: liked it better when you weren’t talking

tae: i liked it when YOU weren’t talking

jimin: shut the fuck up

jin: how about you both shut the fuck up

jimin: now why are YOU talking again

yoongi beat the shit out of him

yoongi: nah dont want to

the thought of his face isn’t pissing me off anymore

jin: thank you <3

yoongi: i could punch hoseok tho

hobi: no thank you ???

y/n: yoongi has a framed picture of all of us on his bedside table that he hides whenever you all come over in case you find it

he also has each one of our debut photocards in a small little binder in his studio in a little safe

yoongi: not true bye

yoongi left “BTW☠️😂”

y/n added yoongi to “BTW☠️😂”

y/n: very true very real seen them with my very two eyes

yoongi: you wear glasses

that you don’t actually wear

so who knows what u be seeing

that is NOT true

y/n: i wear glasses to READ and you know that

so shut up

guys yoongi would punch none of you because he loves you very much ok? 😍💖💯

tae: yoongi do you kiss our picture goodnight be honest

yoongi: fuck off actually

namjoon: thats very sweet yoongi

we love you too

jin: i DON’T

i fear my life when i’m around yoongi picture by his bed or not

i’m shaking in my boots i’m scared

yoongi: pussy

jin: i’m telling you ever since he broke that poor woozi guys nose i have not looked at him the same

y/n: ok but that was a mistake right yoongi

yoongi: ?

y/n: it was

and besides has yoongi broken your nose?

jin: no but it’s coming

i know it

yoongi: true

jk: i feel safe around yoongi

yoongi: you shouldn’t

jk: because he hasn’t broken my nose

but jimin did punch me once

jimin: dont bring up my past

hobi: if we think about it jimin should be locked up

jungkook you can press charges you know?

jimin: CAN WE NOT TALK ABOUT ME AND WHAT I’VE DONE

like we were talking about how yoongi actually love us

lets get back to that

yoongi: jimin should be put behind bars

jimin: yoongi loves us

yoongi: jimin is a bully

jimin: YOONGI LOVES US

tae: i love you back yoongi

yoongi: kill yourself

jimin is a literal bully like actually

jimin: and ur a fake one cuz u love us

jk: jimin you are bully

yoongi: ur right jungkook

you are so right

jimin: jungkook yoongi loves you

that’s why he’s agreeing with you

jk: i love you too yoongi ^0^

yoongi: jungkook jimin is bullying you

has been since you were 16

jk: ohmygod……..

jimin: jungkook yoongi has a photocard of you that he’s probably decorated and everything just cuz he cares so deeply about you

jk: he does????????

namjoon: ok both of you stop

jimin you ARE a bully

and yoongi its ok that you actually like us you should stop pretending you don’t

jimin: I AM NO BULLY

yoongi: i like not one of u 😒

namjoon: yeah ok

jk: GUYS OHMUGOD

tae DOES LIVE IN A CARDBOARD BOX I REMEMBER NOW 🤯🤯😨

tae left “BTW☠️😂”

—

think of this as a flash back/ forward idk of the good happy times ok? ok thank u >_<

sorry for the shit ending i just really like the first part and wanted to post

tags: @piw6n @92jinnies @birdie-vhs @kooksmilitarywife @hob3loveofmylife @jujubiism @bloopkook @ratchetpizza1 @myntalks @arloo00 @watamotee33 @y2kcy3brz @taiwan0618 @freyadanvers @gguksbeloved @raetf @bbsantc @winuvs @medicinemybish @bxnnyhime @leleluvsbts @baetukki @zyaaaszn @thelilbutifulthings @jazminethecreator @k4ngelz @jmnscutie @threeopossumsinacoat @cynicalyoongs @lightningpussy54 @eunthv @gigiiiiislife @lowkeykin @elissasimp @socksfirstalways @knjlvr06 @lailaisarmy @thvkives @xstfudaisyx @xxxanimangxxx @solstice34 @ml8dy @hoeforseoks

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sleepiexx · 11 months

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Cops ‘n Cartel Leaders

Valeria Garza x fem!Reader

Note: any irls that follow me, you do not have to read this imma preface this now. I don’t wanna be hearing any judgment abt my ass getting freaky on the internet!!

Summary: One off-handed comment turns into a steamy afternoon spent together.

Warnings: smut, afab reader, reader and Valeria role play that reader is an undercover cop who’s been caught and tied up, reader isn’t actually a cop, light knife play, no one gets cut, degradation. Also reader at one point asks Valeria what she’s doing, this is not like dubcon or anything, they have a pre discussed relationship with boundaries in place.

Word count: 2439

There was no telling how they got here, all that they knew was that they could sit there for hours like this, just talking.

“I love you,” (Y/N) murmured, running her fingers over Valeria’s knuckles.

Valeria hummed in recognition, deciding to tease the other girl, “Do you?”

(Y/N) knew she was just messing with her, lord knows Valeria loved to push her buttons, but still she took her words to heart.

“Yes, you’re literally my everything. I love you so much.” She whined, flashing the saddest looking puppy dog eyes Valeria had ever seen.

Valeria laughed at how easy it was to get to her, only making her want to defend herself more, “I’m dead serious, i would do anything for you. I would be your little housewife and stay home cooking and cleaning all day if you asked me to.”

Valeria scoffed at the idea, “(Y/N), if I didn’t wake you up every morning, you would stay in bed until 3pm. You wouldn’t survive as a housewife.”

“I could survive, I’m resilient, it’s like my only skill,” (Y/N) pouted.

Valeria nodded, “I’ll give you that. But you wouldn’t thrive, I think you’re better off with me spoiling you.”

The comment was lighthearted yet (Y/N) still felt the need to prove herself— to prove she wasn’t just with Valeria for her money.

“It’s nice to be spoiled, but I’d love you even if you didn’t. You could drive me out to the middle of nowhere and drop me off and I’d hitchhike for thousands of miles just to beg at your feet for you to take me back.”

Valeria’s expression turned sour at the thought, “I could never just get rid of you like that.” She shook her head, but as she thought more about what (Y/N) said, a smirk made its way to her face, “I wouldn’t mind the begging though.”

(Y/N) grinned, “I love you so much that I would beg as much as you wanted.”

Valeria figured it was her turn to say how much she loved her, if only to quiet the cheesy laments from (Y/N)’s mouth.

“I’d kill for you.” She muttered, voice dead serious.

Despite her drop in tone, (Y/N) kept up her joking. “Oh yeah? Well I’d die for you.” And of course, she was serious too, she just wanted to rile Valeria up too. It worked.

Valeria grabbed (Y/N)’s face and turned her head to make eye contact. Her intense eyes burned holes into (Y/N)’s.

“If you told me right now that you were an undercover cop sent to take me down, I’d let you.”

And god, Valeria’s voice was so serious, just daring (Y/N) to fuck with her. Valeria wouldn’t be one-upped, that much was true, yet (Y/N) never knew where to end a joke, always taking it too far and getting herself in trouble.

“Good thing,” (Y/N) giggled, quickly straddling Valeria. Holding her hands above her head, she smiled, “because you’re under arrest.”

Her reign on top was short lived, in one swift move, Valeria flipped over and switched their places. Her grip was tighter than (Y/N)’s had been, and she made sure she was planted on top of her. There was no way in hell that she was letting (Y/N) get out.

Valeria leaned in close, “Oh that’s adorable. You wanna play officer, sweet girl? You wanna arrest me?”

All the words evaporated from (Y/N)’s throat. She tried to stutter out some semblance of a sentence but Valeria wouldn’t let her, instantly cutting her off.

“Too scared to speak, officer? Maybe instead we can play ‘undercover cop who gets caught by the big bad cartel leader and gets punished for her betrayal.’”

Valeria slowly grinded her crotch against (Y/N)’s, drawing out heated huffs and sighs from the girl’s mouth.

“Valeria?”

Valeria grabbed her jaw harshly, “It’s Sin Nombre to you.”

She used one hand to continue pinning (Y/N)’s wrists as she dug around the drawer on her bedside table, looking for something. (Y/N) had no clue what, and Valeria made sure she was too preoccupied to notice until she heard a click.

(Y/N)’s head snapped to look at her hands above her, now cuffed to the bedpost, “W-What are you doing?”

“Oh mi amor, you didn’t think I’d give you a chance to escape your punishment, hm?”

(Y/N) didn’t answer, too lost in the sensation of Valeria’s crotch rubbing up against her own.

Her jaw once more ended up in Valeria’s tight grip. Their faces were so close that (Y/N) could feel Valeria’s breath on her face. “I asked you a question, officer.” Valeria purred.

(Y/N) raked her mind, trying to remember what had been asked. “N-No ma’am.”

“Well then there’s your answer.”

Valeria spread (Y/N)’s legs, putting her knee right up against (Y/N)’s clothed sex. (Y/N) rolled her hips to grind up against Valeria’s leg, taking a shaky breath after doing so.

Ever so slowly, Valeria ran her hands along her lover’s sides, leaving goose bumps in the wake of her touch. Her knee stayed firmly pressed against (Y/N)’s covered cunt to provide some stimulation as her hands wandered. (Y/N) tugged her lower lip between her teeth, waiting in anticipation of Valeria’s next move.

As her hand reached the bottom of (Y/N)’s shirt, Valeria realized the predicament she found herself in. How to take off her girlfriend’s shirt and bra without uncuffing her? The solution came in the form of a switchblade in her pocket.

An intoxicating feeling of fear washed over (Y/N) at the sight of the knife in Valeria’s steady hands. This fear pooled straight into her clit, twitching with lust. The fact that a knife turned her on so much made her feel dirty, but the ache in her lower region overpowered the shame.

Her whole body shivered as Valeria carefully sliced through her t-shirt, pulling the scraps from her figure.

The knife slid to the strap of (Y/N)��s bra, nearly connecting until (Y/N) spoke up, “Wait, I like this bra.”

Valeria stopped for less than a second, hardly hesitating to sever the material separating her from her girlfriend’s tits.

“You should have thought about that before you double crossed me,” she hissed.

After throwing the bra to the side, Valeria folded her switchblade and put it away into the night stand. Her hands instantly gravitated back towards (Y/N)’s body. She left teasing touches all around (Y/N)‘s breasts, conveniently missing her nipples every time.

(Y/N) started to whine but was cut off as Valeria quickly pinched her left nipple. All that left her mouth was a squeak in surprise.

Valeria stimulated (Y/N)’s nipples in all the right ways. She rubbed up, down, side to side, circles, every way you could imagine, not forgetting to pinch them so she could hear the sweet little squeals that left (Y/N)’s lips.

“I could make you cum like this,” Valeria threatened, “only touch your nipples, leave your pussy aching for me. This is a punishment, after all.”

(Y/N) shook her head, panic evident in her facial expressions, “please,” she begged.

Valeria smirked, the sound of begging akin to music in her ears, “please what?”

“Please Sin Nombre.”

Valeria’s breath hitched, she had meant for (Y/N) to ask for what she wanted out right, to beg to be touched, and yet this was so much better. The name coming out of her swollen lips sounded so sweet, and so dirty.

But still, Valeria was on a mission to torture the poor girl, “What? What do you want Sin Nombre to do to you, officer?”

Shame was tossed out the window at this point, “Fuck me! Please Sin Nombre, please fuck me.”

“Was that so hard, pretty girl?” Valeria’s hands shot to the hem of (Y/N)’s pants. She tugged them off at an agonizingly slow pace, going down with them. Then came the underwear, tugged down slowly from thigh to calf then pulled off altogether. From her new position by (Y/N)’s ankles, she kissed her way up (Y/N)‘s legs. Stopping at the top to bite a chunk of the plush inner thigh.

(Y/N) moaned, squirming away from Valeria’s vicious teeth to no avail.

Valeria finally let up, only to free her mouth so she could speak to her lover, “You may be a cop, but you are also my fucking bitch. I’m going to mark you up so everyone who sees you knows you’re mine.”

(Y/N) clenched around nothing, grabbing Valeria’s attention.

“Aww, am I not giving her enough attention?” She condescended, lightly tracing a finger across (Y/N)’s vulva.

(Y/N) nodded, sealing her fate as Valeria’s lips near-instantly latched to her clit.

Any composure she’d maintained before was thrown out, moans spilled from her lips as Valeria flicked her clit with her tongue. Her face felt hot, mortified at the idea of cumming too quick as her guts twisted at the euphoric feeling.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” She breathed. With that, Valeria finally let up on her intense ministrations, switching to firm, long licks on (Y/N)‘s clit.

Just when (Y/N) thought she was safe, Valeria started sucking on her clit once again. The pace was increased from the other time, making it hard on (Y/N) not to cum.

“Oh god, oh please. Please, ‘m gonna cum.”

With one last tug from her lips, Valeria separated from (Y/N)’s cunt.

“Wait, no, please, I was gonna cum.” (Y/N) cried.

Valeria roughly grabbed her chin, “Not without me you weren’t.”

And all at once, (Y/N)‘s vigor returned. She stared with glossy doe eyes as Valeria stood and rid herself of her clothes.

Valeria caught on to (Y/N)’s staring, scoffing and stepping towards her, “What a little pervert. How often do you let someone you try to detain fuck you? How would your higher ups feel if they saw you like this?”

(Y/N) shivered at the thought of her imaginary higher ups seeing her all fucked out at the hands of the big bad Sin Nombre.

“Fucking slut.” Valeria muttered as she situated herself in front of (Y/N). She placed her left leg under (Y/N)’s right, and her right above (Y/N)’s left, pressing her clit right up to (Y/N)’s.

“You cum when I tell you to cum, understand?”

(Y/N) nodded, giving Valeria the go ahead to start rocking up against her. The warmth of Valeria’s cunt pressed up against hers drove (Y/N) crazy. Paired with the stimulation on her clit, she was doomed.

“Fuck, please.” She begged.

“Not until I tell you.” Valeria growled.

Soon after, she buried her face in (Y/N)’s neck, making good on her promise to mark her up. One thing about Valeria: she was mean with her hickeys. It wasn’t a simple kiss and suck, no; Valeria bit, hard. It wasn’t a hickey from Valeria if it didn’t feel like having sex with a vampire.

The best thing that resulted from her bites— apart from the bruises that could last for weeks— was the honey smooth sound of Valeria’s moans, muffled by (Y/N)’s neck and sending vibrations up and down her throat.

Valeria separated from her neck, nipping up to her jaw and slowly to her ear. “Such a good girl, making me feel so good,” she whispered huskily.

Like the fear of Valeria’s switchblade had done earlier, her words dove straight into (Y/N)’s throbbing clit.

“Please, Valeria, don’t know how much longer I can hold it.”

And though (Y/N) had broken the ‘only call me by my official name’ rule, Valeria was lenient sometimes. “Give it to me, princesa, cum for me.”

All the tension in (Y/N)’s abdomen snapped, leaving her shaking as she came hard. The sensation washed over her in waves of pleasure, truly fucked out.

Once it passed, she was left to lay helpless as Valeria continued rutting against her, chasing her own orgasm. She let out a low whine at the overstimulation.

“I know, sweet girl, I know, just gotta stay still till I cum, okay?” Valeria coo’d, brushing hair out of (Y/N)’s face.

(Y/N) nodded pathetically, just wanting to make her girlfriend feel good, to let her use her for her own pleasure.

“Good girl, good fucking girl.” Valeria groaned, eyes rolling back as she finally came. Her hips slowed but continued rolling against (Y/N)’s.

(Y/N) stared in awe at the beautiful woman above her, nearly cumming again at the feeling of Valeria’s cum running down her cunt.

As Valeria’s high passed, she separated herself from (Y/N) and flopped down right next to her on the bed.

A dirty thought ran through her mind and she followed through with it, gathering her own slick onto her middle and ring finger before plunging them deep into (Y/N)’s vagina.

(Y/N) let out a loud moan, clenching around Valeria’s fingers, trying to suck them back in as she pulled them out.

“So cute.” Valeria laughed, as if she hadn’t just essentially cum in her girlfriend.

They sat in silence for a beat, allowing the two to catch a breath. Once (Y/N)’s heart stopped beating a mile a minute (now only going .9 miles a minute), she spoke up.

“Can you uncuff me so we can cuddle?” (Y/N) asked, eying her cuffed hands.

Valeria reached over her, into the drawer she’d originally retrieved the cuffs from, pulling out a key. “Of course.”

The cuffs came off with a click as Valeria unlocked them, leaving (Y/N)’s raw wrists bare.

“I really did like that bra.” (Y/N) pouted, snuggling into Valeria’s side.

Valeria ran her thumb over (Y/N)’s irritated wrists, “I will buy you 10 new ones.”

(Y/N) smiled, nuzzling further into Valeria and pulling the covers up. “I love you,” she murmured, closing her eyes.

Valeria tightened her grip around (Y/N), “I love you too.”

And as (Y/N) fell asleep, Valeria stayed awake counting her lover’s breaths. When she got tired, she pressed a kiss to the crown of (Y/N)’s head.

“I would kill for you,” she whispered, “and, mi amor, I would die for you too.”

#valeria garza x fem!reader #valeria garza x reader #valeria x reader #valeria garza #valeria cod #valeria garza cod #call of duty valeria #call of duty fanfic #smut #call of duty smut #valeria x fem!reader #call of duty x reader

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chvoswxtch · 7 months

Note

Court,

how do you think Matt, Frank, and Billy would react if their partner wanted to… uhm. Make a spicy home movie… 🌶️

(it’s gotta be cannon that Billy would eat that shit up, right?!)

headcannons for each? If you’re interested.

I HAVE THOTS

let's talk about it :)

spicy headcannons below the cut (minors dni)

billy russo

let's start with this fucker bc yes he would absolutely eat that shit up

he's getting production level equipment, setting up mics, perfecting the lighting, picking out a sexy expensive little outfit for you to wear, probably even calling in a professional team for hair and makeup, and picking out the most lavish location he can think of

this is an ALL night event. he's fucking you on every surface, in every room, in every position, and he's getting every single second on film. I think he'd pick a location that has a lot of floor to ceiling mirrors so that he can watch himself as he fucks you, bc we know he's a conceited fucker (he'd probably be watching you and himself in the reflection while you're on your knees with his cock in your mouth), and he's definitely getting close up shots of your face when he makes you come (or comes on your face)

there is definitely going to be a sensual soundtrack

this is not a home movie to billy, this is a feature film, and one he would bring with him everywhere while he's away from you

he's such a shithead he would probably have a "premiere" and rent out a theatre just for the two of you so he could watch himself fuck you on the big screen (and then fuck you right there in the theater)

he'd definitely want to make more than one I can promise you that

matt murdock

I think matt would be a bit surprised by your request, but I don't think he'd deny participating

I think he'd honestly be aroused that you want something handcrafted by the two of you to use when you're feeling lonely and missing him while he's out living his busy double life

obviously the visual is more for you, but the audio is for matt

in order to make it special for both of you, the two of you come up with a plan. maybe you rent a little isolated cabin outside the city so there's no background noise, and get a couple of little mics to set up so that you can capture every sound

the breathy pants from sensual kissing, the soft whimper when you tease the head of matt's cock with your tongue, the obscene slurping from him devouring your pussy, the echo of your ass smacking against his thighs while he fucks you from behind

you get the stunning visuals of matt in all his glory, but he gets the audio file of your combined gratification

everybody wins ;)

frank castle

frank is without a doubt the hardest to talk into this. i've said it once and i'll say it until I die, he's a hopeless romantic and old fashioned when it comes to dating and sex

don't get me wrong, he can be freaky, and i'm sure teenage frankie was no stranger to porn, but watching it vs being in it is a totally different thing

when you ask him to make a spicy home movie, his eyes go wide and his cheeks flush red. he isn't sure he heard you right, but once he realizes you were serious, he gets a little shy

frank can rip people apart with his barehands and not bat an eye but being naked on camera makes him blush

I think he would feel self conscious. you'd definitely have to warm him up, try to distract him from constantly looking over at the camera, push him up against the headboard and climb on his lap while you give him something else to focus on

by the time you finally sink down onto his needy cock, he's forgotten all about the camera

I don't think he would fully appreciate the little home movie until the first time he has to be away from you for more than a couple of days, and he's really missing you in some motel far away, and his curiosity gets the better of him. I think he'd feel guilty at first for fisting his cock while watching you ride his face, feeling like he's disrespecting you somehow or being a perv, but then he'd remember that you wanted this and what he's doing right now is exactly what it was intended for

and knowing that you're at home alone in bed watching the same video and touching yourself too would drive him absolutely insane and make him feel like he can't come home to you fast enough

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banamine-bananime · 27 days

Text

AITA for trying to save my friend and keep the rest of my asshole friends safe from their bad decisions?

I (M26) just went through this real shitty breakup. So basically, my ex C (M lmao man fuck if i know his age idek if knows it. or has one i guess) has this god-fucking-awful habit of deciding to solve every problem by dying about it and/or fucking off without so much as a word to the people unfortunate enough to give a shit about him, except maybe his sister (unhelpful for the rest of us because she also inherited the "fucking off without a word" gene. man fuck this whole family for making me care about them. whatever). Also, killing himself inside peoples brains thats like a whole hobby for him. like okay either ghost us OR kill yourself in front of us altering the trajectory of our lives forever PICK ONE like a NORMAL person.

Okay wait im not explaining this well. So years ago C and W (M37 now) were partners but C was, uh, in a really bad place mentally (S is telling me this is more diplomatic to say than "crazy af") and that situationship ended as badly as a situationship can end. I mean W's told me he pretty much had his sense of identity as someone separate from C totally destroyed by that for a while, which like, in hindsight its kinda an accidental dick move that our team made him take C's legal identity, but in our defense a) the fuck were we supposed to know?, b) tbf he really did need it not to go back to prison, c) it's not like C was using his identity, on account of the fucking off and effectively-dying-as-a-solution habits, and d) i mean. i gotta admit it's also pretty funny in a really fucked way.

aw shit derailed on a tangent again

recently its just like, we just get so focused on one thing its hard to remember anything else, you know?

S is so good at getting us back on track though. thank god because you would not believe the number of irons weve got in the fire to keep track of, its ridiculous. (i love making my partner be the planner in the relationship lol. highly recommend being a passenger princess in the body sometimes. fuck massages, i'm telling you THIS is what you need after a long day getting shit DONE and taking care of everyone else's messes)

So I met C 6 years ago, right out of basic, when we were privates stationed at the same base. middle of nowhere. shit, this is gonna be hard to explain, just realized i should use different names for C to keep them straight. I knew "A" and W knew "E", i didnt meet E until years later. theyre alters and also the same guy but also not the same guy. dont worry about it if you dont get it bc ive dated both of them and i dont think i do. my life is stupid.

Bunch of bullshit happened, A ghosted (lol. you'd be high-fiving me if you knew him) and then found a problem to solve by dying. you get it by now.

Then i meet E, E encounters a problem and tries to die about it round one (i guess round two, after exploding in W <- LOL. you should be high-fiving me right now), E's sister drags him back to the land of the living, E ghosts, W and i start dating, W tries to martyr himself and disappears because i guess E rubbed off on him (dude i am on a fucking roll. you should be high-fiving me out of pity for my glamorously miserable soap-opera life if nothing else. homophobic not to), our team gets W back, E strolls back like he has no idea why im mad at him, we fight about it, makeup-makeouts about it, and E tries to die about it round two: in my brain boogaloo.

So thats how S and i meet. oops, guess i never introduced S? Feels weird to have to introduce ourself twice, people dont really meet us separately anymore LOL. S (M, ageless) is also C's alter, my partner in life and badassery and brain and body. and obviously freaky sex stuff, that goes without saying but i'm saying it anyway to brag. the swish swish to my stabbing people who really deserve it. Not really interested in your opinion on our relationship, it's not what i'm asking about. we're aware its not conventional, because we're not fucking braindead. Im so sick of all the "oooohhhhh this isn't healthy", "he's a male manipulator and youre codependent i know bc i learned psychology from tiktoks by girls with green hair", "why are you wearing your ex-boyfriend's armor colors while wearing his dead ex-boyfriend's armor while dating and sharing a brain with your dead mutual ex's alter", "have you considered going to therapy instead of a quest against death itself" blah blah blah. If youre so bored you need to judge our life then just get your own 🙄🙄🙄

we've been really on that sigma grindset the last few weeks. S has got our sleep optimized down to a tight triphasic 3.46 hours and we're minmaxing the fuck out of the rest of every day. Biohacked to shit over here. too much to do, so we have to make there be enough of our time to do it. who else is gonna? my teammates? the REDS? we're half batman half babysitter to a gaggle of idiots who can barely be trusted to wipe their own asses, let alone fight their own battles and make decisions like "wah wah wah A is dead let's just give up and cry about it or whatever".

Don't even get me started on W. Oh youre all about character-building wake up and grind self-improvement and taking leadership until we're making decisions you dont like, i guess. WHATEVER. this is why we dont listen to you.

its hard, okay. like, you cant understand the sheer fucking stress were under trying to keep all our plans going smoothly while keeping these guys safe while they're basically actively trying to unravel every carefully-laid thread and also strangle themselves in them. im probably going prematurely grey and also losing some time. its hard to remember when we need to hold back and use the kiddy gloves. i really didnt want to come to holding - uh, we'll call him MC (M25) - by the throat, passed-out. he's like a brother to me, been through thick and fucking thin together, so yeah, i feel really bad about that, my bad, we were the asshole there, but like, maybe stop throwing yourself in the way? like run out into the road you're gonna get hit by a truck no matter how hard they slam the brakes. mfw the conses quence. but im NOT asking about that. everyone's been on our dick about "please god stop doing all of this" and abandoning A and trying to break us up way before that, and THAT'S what im asking about

Anyways tl;dr are we the asshole for getting shit done when it takes methods that all our monday morning quarterback friends dont like

_____

OP has offered the following explanation for why they think they might be the asshole:

it really was a dick move to dangle my teammate's limp body in a chokehold even though it was basically an accident and also not even directly relevant to the question

OP has offered the following explanation for why they think they might not be the asshole:

okay but we're right

#red vs blue #rvb restoration #lavernius tucker

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aettuddae · 4 months

Text

hole in one. — 141. it'll be heaven.

⌕ synopsis: at one of the most prestigious universities in the country, where everyone is battling to be the center of attention, yu jimin is just a regular. people want her because of her beauty, but all she cares about is sharing her freaky stuff with her friends and passing her subjects. although there's one thing that might push her out of her comfort zone, revenge. when nakamura kazuha, one of the richest and most well-known students of NCU, starts to spread gossip about her for thousands of followers to see, jimin decides to get back by taking away the thing kazuha cares about the most: her perfect girlfriend, the young golf star, kwon haru.

masterlist | prev

[written chapter]

"guys, i ran out of battery on my phone." reported seungkwan from his seat.

"i told you to charge it before you left." reproached yunjin.

"i got distracted by leveling up in candy crush and forgot." defended the boy.

"how many students are there?" questioned minhyuk with an irritated tone. "i'm hungry."

"me too, i didn't have breakfast." shared juyeon.

"why didn't you have breakfast?" asked ningning.

"i didn't have time." explained the older keeping her eyes on the stage where students continued to pass by to receive their graduation diplomas. "minhyuk was supposed to go wake me up, but the bastard showed up fifteen minutes before we had to leave." she reminisced in frustration.

"at least i remembered to come get you." said the jock.

"no, it's okay, i already know you, i should have predicted it." dismissed.

"excuse me? we're all entitled to one last chance." he lashed out with mock offense.

"you never got anywhere early in your whole life, you're not starting now." replied eunseo.

"i can change..."

"... uchinaga aeri." the voice of an older teacher echoed through the auditorium where the graduation ceremony was taking place, grabbing the attention of the entire group of friends and thus interrupting their conversation.

"up, up!" commanded juyeon.

everyone stood up and began to applaud their friend as she was taking her diploma. haru, minhyuk and juyeon with their phones held high recording the whole process as if they were three proud parents, the last two even shouting some chants of pride and love to the japanese girl, who wanted to die of embarrassment and made countenances at them telling them to shut their mouths. they were genuinely happy for their best friend.

aeri received her certificate, had her picture taken with it and then proceeded to walk off the stage towards her spot again and let the event continue with the next students.

haru was in a good mood that day, of course she was. her best friend was graduating, and in the same class was the girl she loved, who she would finally have in the flesh next to her after agreeing that they were going to be fine. it was a good day.

the golfer followed giselle with her eyes until she was in her chair, and then she tried to locate jimin among her classmates, but it was such a large group that even if she tried to look for them alphabetically, she wasn't being able to find her.

as her eyes wandered around the place in search of her favorite human, she came across someone she hadn't expected to see at all,

nakamura kazuha.

the girl was standing next to an empty seat, presumably hers, at the edge of the small aisle that formed between the student area and the guest's, trying to get a better view of the proceedings.

it had been almost as long since she had last seen kazuha as it had been since she had seen karina before the wedding, so the girl was a particular sighting, to say the least.

kazuha was still living in seoul and playing golf at the rottary club, as usual. the last kwon had heard, she had joined a professional team.

kazuha possibly felt the watchful eye on her, as she turned to look for the reason why she felt observed, finding her ex with a dumbfounded and slightly goofy expression. as they made eye contact, they both gave each other a shy smile and the younger girl raised her hand, waving it and greeting haru.

the sudden feeling of familiarity came over her, and the eldest began to walk past her friends until she could step out of the small place where their seats were and approach the girl.

"hey." greeted her, somewhat hesitantly.

"hey." returned the chestnut with a big smile on her face.

"hey." repeated letting out a nervous giggle, then looking to the side and giving a nod to sakura and eunchae, the japanese girl's mates, who were accompanying her.

"i didn't imagine you'd come over." she shrugged.

"how can i not approach when i haven't seen you in years?" she settled in next to her, both of them with their eyes towards the scenario.

"well, it's not like we were splendidly two years ago." she remarked. "how have you been?" she wondered looking sideways at her.

"bad," kwon went silent, contemplating her answer, eliciting a frown of concern from the girl. "but i'm fine now." she assured her.

"are you sure?" she put her hand on her back to show reassurance. "what happened?"

"don't worry, i'm serious." she nodded her head, reinforcing her words. "i don't know if you know i moved..."

"of course i know, haru." she cut in, her tone carrying a hint of sadness.

"well, it was the moving, the new town," it was obvious she wasn't going to mention the main reason for her pain to her former girlfriend. "i couldn't play golf for a long time." she added, downplaying her words. "you know, it was hard." she concluded. "but i'm fine now, really, how have you been?" she rested her gaze on her, expectant for an answer.

"i've been fine." she assured calmly, removing her touch from haru's body. "i'm on a team, my teammates are good, they are talented. we will prepare to participate in the championship next year." she said defiantly.

"oh, then we'll be rivals." she cocked her head confidently and stretched out her hand for kazuha to shake. "may the best one win."

"you say that because you're the best." she narrowed her eyes, judging her. "and aside from golf..." she folded her arms, thinking. "i don't know, not much has happened." she sighed not knowing what to tell. "i graduated last week." she commented. "you didn't come." chastised kazuha, as an innocent comment.

"sorry." haru lowered her head, an ashamed smile on her lips. "you went to mine even when we had been broken up for months, i should have go since i was in town."

"don't worry, haru, just kidding." she gave her a gentle nudge with her elbow. "you didn't have to come." she understood. "it's enough that you came over to talk to me now." she brought her hand to the back of her neck and squeezed from both sides playfully to comfort her, causing them both to laugh. "you came to see aeri?" she changed topics, returning to the situation they were in.

"yes, obviously, we all came." she took a glance at where her friend was sitting. "and well, jimin too." she admitted, feeling out the younger girl's reaction.

"oh." her mouth hung slightly open and her eyebrows raised as she processed what she had just been told. "so, you two...?" she raised her index finger to point at her, then wagged it around as if trying to finish her sentence with her gestures.

"it's complicated." she sentenced. "we met again recently." she didn't want to give away too much information.

"sure." she took a moment. "i hope you two do well." she encouraged, seemingly sincere.

"thank you, zuha."

"tell her that..." she took a big breath of air, gathering courage to let her pride go. "that i'm so sorry."

both pairs of eyes met for the first time in the entire talk, and haru saw in her a glimmer of the kazuha she once loved. a kazuha who could become tender and sensitive, a kazuha only she seemed to have known.

"i know it's not going to change anything." her hands danced in the air illustrating her attempt to explain herself. "or maybe after all this time it doesn't matter anymore." she closed her eyes for a second, recomposing herself. "but if you can, and want, tell her i'm really sorry." she lifted her eyelids, letting her guard down.

"i will."

haru felt something inside her stir, the memories. seeing kazuha in that place felt surreal to her, but apart from that talking to her brought back a feeling that mixed both the familiar and the unfamiliar. she could never hate her, after all, haru had always been one of the few people who couldn't do that at all. seeing her there, being a bit of who she once was, blinded something in her brain, and her first instinct was to lean in and hug her.

"it's good to see you." she whispered, her chin resting lightly on her shoulder. "and it's good to hear you're sorry." she moved her hand along her back.

"i want to apologize to you too, haru." at that moment, she finally dared to raise her arms and reciprocate the woman's gesture. "sorry for ruining that nice thing we had." her voice sounded a little shaky.

"i don't need you to apologize to me." she shook her head even if the girl wouldn't see it. "i chose long ago to keep only the good parts of your time in my life."

the older girl stood up straight, breaking the hold they had on each other. she arranged her locks behind her ears and connected their gazes, which were flooded with nostalgia and affection. between the two of them, there was no more romance, but there would always remain the deep adoration you have for someone who was once your confidante and security.

"... yu jimin." this time it was a female professor's voice that announced the name, interrupting the moment. again kwon had not heard the introduction.

"oh shit." exclaimed kazuha in surprise. "your girlfriend." she centered her focus on the student body area. "go!" she put her hands on her arm and began to push her back into her seat.

"kazuha, it was good to see you-"

"yeah, yeah, we'll meet again when we compete, now go, jimin is graduating." she didn't let her finish, rushing her.

"wow, you've changed."

"go!" she insisted, ending in both of them letting out a few laughs at the interaction and haru returning to her seat.

the athlete took out her cellphone as she had done with aeri, and pointed it at jimin, who was walking up to the stage. with great joy on her face she took a few photos of her as she received her diploma, then locked the device and put it away so she could applaud her and watch her personally.

when karina stood for her picture with the certificate that she had finished her studies, by coincidence, or a bit because she was looking for it, she found haru in the audience, and couldn't help but stop and admire her as she was happy for her. so in the final image she was not even looking at the camera, but to the side, full of love.

the ceremony was over and the group of friends had ventured out in search of the new graduates, parting in each other's close circle.

minhyuk, eunseo and haru were with giselle and her parents, showering the girl with hugs, affection, congratulations, and taking pictures of her. each one posed with her individually for the camera, and then they did it all together, then with the parents. they would have enough documentation of that moment to fill an album so they would have to forget the picture they had taken of her earlier where she was begging her friends to keep quiet.

minhyuk even cried, claiming he couldn't believe that the youngest of the group had already finished her college years. they had met when they were just teenagers, and now they all had degrees and their futures planned.

jimin was first greeted by her family, who warmly congratulated her on her achievement, and then her friends arrived, who, of course, started a magazine-worthy photo session in the middle of the auditorium. seungkwan even lifted up ningning, who was holding a phone with the flashlight on, in order to properly illuminate the picture that winter was taking of yunjin and jimin.

after, they became involved in a hyped conversation, but the girl could not stop diverting her interest to the group surrounding the uchinagas.

she had already been welcomed and showered with compliments for what she had accomplished, she just wanted to run to haru and have her close finally. but over there, they kept crying and hugging each other sentimentally.

it was while her loved ones were talking about the different job offers karina had on the table for her future, that she turned to see what was going on in the other gathering of people and noticed a bored haru, as they were not doing anything in particular, she was distracted scanning what was going on in her surroundings.

she took the opportunity as her own and excitedly ran towards the oldest, who noticed her approaching her euphorically and opened her arms waiting. jimin's body crashed into haru's, with enough intensity that the latter slightly lost her balance and had to take a few steps backward, dragging yu.

"how is my favorite graduate?"

she wrapped her arms around jimin, with one holding her body tightly and one hand wandering through her hair subtly. the younger clinging to her waist as if there was a hurricane around and the girl was the only thing she could hold on to.

"actually, that offended me." giselle's voice was heard from behind.

"you're my favorite too." she detached her hand from the blackhaired's back to point her finger at her friend.

"you can't have two favorites." aeri held her waist and brought all her weight to one leg as she judged with her gaze.

"later you discuss it." karina made a rambunctious gesture indicating for them to be quiet. "hello." she whispered, as she pressed her forehead together with the haru's.

"hello." she replied in the same volume, just for her to hear, showing all her teeth from the joy she felt. "i'm so proud of you, princess."

"thank you, baby." they stared at each other stupidly for a few moments. "i missed you." she added, finally being able to say it to her face.

"i missed you too." she lifted herself up a little, getting to the height to leave a delicate kiss on her nose. "you look good." she exclaimed in amusement taking a few steps back so she could observe her full body, their hands enlaced.

"don't i?" she took one foot off the ground giving a short hop and cocked her head to one side with a cheeky expression. "i'm the most adorable economist." she ran her hair making it fly back, continuing the joke.

haru's smile spread even wider and her eyes, or what could be seen from between those cavities that formed moons as they narrowed, sparkled as they followed karina. the girl could no longer contain the wave of beautiful emotions beating against her chest, and she walked briskly to catch the younger girl again and lift her into the air, spinning around, accompanied by her giggles.

the golfer slowly stopped, but before she set her down, jimin took the chance to use the hold on her neck and the closeness to her ear to murmur to her, in a tone that mixed melancholy and absolute happiness: "being like this with you seems like a dream."

"don't worry." she released the girl once her feet were on the ground. "it's not." she caressed her cheek tenderly. "i'm really here, and i'm happy to be." she reassured, comforting the girl.

jimin stopped to admire her. even with her words, she found it hard to understand that she was real. she felt like it was an angel in front of her. she loved her, in such an overwhelming way that jimin thought it escaped from her heart and took over her whole body, leaving no room for her blood, organs or veins. she loved her with all that she was.

"come!" the younger girl exclaimed abruptly after remembering something, startling the sportswoman with her sudden change of attitude. she took her hand and then started walking quickly.

they approached where jimin's acquaintances were standing, stopping short in front of them. haru felt a little shy since she had never met the girl's parents. off to the side, her friends watched the scene proudly, after all they had accompanied her through in those two years.

"mom, dad, this is my girlfriend." she held out her hand to the girl, who bowed as a greeting of respect to the elders, but looked a little puzzled. seeing her reaction, yu realized the label she had used and felt nervous. "my thing." that wasn't good either. "my haru." she corrected herself. "this is haru."

"so you are haru..." the man said, taking in the person in front of him.

"the golfer!" the lady recalled.

"that's what people know me for." agreed kwon, extending her hand to the couple.

"jimin used to make us watch your matches when she was at home." commented the father, causing the named one to cover her embarrassed face. "you know, i really like golf too..."

to no one's surprise, everyone got along well. haru was incredibly likeable after all, and it filled jimin's soul to see the most important people in her life excitedly engaged in conversation.

a few minutes later, giselle approached them to remind that they were all going to eat at a restaurant later to celebrate. there was a reception for all the graduates, but they preferred to go with their best friends.

they had been there for at least two hours, but they had only started eating. although everyone had been drinking and chatting since they arrived.

it was amazing how the two groups had found each other and managed to get along, despite the things that had happened between them.

at one end of the table were seungkwan and minhyuk, the latter had his arm around the back of the other's chair, wrapping it around him. they were distracted in a debate about whether fries tasted better with ketchup or cheese, and it was endearing to see how the chef never stopped laughing at anything that came out of his boyfriend's mouth, while the golfer gets fascinated listening to the things he told. they had a nice relationship, they understood each other in humor, and had similar tastes, they were boyfriends and friends at the same time.

the rest of the girls were sitting one on each side, across the table. it wasn't an abysmal distance, but they were still carrying on an almost shouting conversation, laughing uproariously, with eunseo leading the chatter they were engaged in, which was largely gossip. to one side of the oldest redhead, minjeong was quiet and smiling, drinking her beer and stealing loving glances at her now wife.

and in one corner, haru and karina were in their chairs next to each other. the older one's hand rested comfortably on the graduate's leg, who was brushing her fingers along the other's body in search of contact. both were attentively listening to what the others were saying and would let out a giggle when someone made a funny comment. sometimes starting short exchanges of words only between them, but mostly just enjoying the moment.

juyeon was trying to explain something to yunjin, who was looking at the others with bewilderment as she didn't understand what she was hearing. the girl's expression was funny to her friends, even to jimin, who burst out laughing when she saw her and leaned on haru for support. once it passed, she stayed in that position, with her head on the golfer's shoulder, and after a moment, she wrapped the arm that the girl had holding her with her own, clinging completely to her.

"i love you." said the blackhaired, leaving a kiss on haru's cheek.

"i love you." she reciprocated, turning her head so she could look at her face.

"sorry for introducing you as my girlfriend to my parents today." she casually mentioned.

"no worries, i guess i will be at some point anyway." she shrugged with plenty of attitude.

"oh? so that's how you think..." she gave her a playful pinch. "if so, then why aren't you right now?" she bit her lip expectantly, embarrassed that her heart was pounding at the inquisitions of what she had said.

"you haven't asked me yet." haru explained without giving it much thought and then leaned over to pick up her glass and take a swig of her drink.

"do i have to ask you? i was waiting for you to ask me." she pointed a finger at herself.

"no, clearly you have to ask me." she sipped again, looking defiantly at her over the glass.

"would you be my girlfriend?" karina asked hurriedly, so fast the words were barely understood. her eyes painted with anticipation.

"you're asking me here? with minhyuk present?" she exclaimed ironically.

"what did i do now?" questioned the boy across the table.

"you don't care." the girl dismissed him without even turning to look at him, getting him to throw his hands up in the air in disbelief.

"you must have done something." eunseo accused him, triggering one of their silly arguments.

"come with me." jimin got up from her seat and started walking. haru obeyed and went after her.

"where are you going?" the sportsman vociferated.

"you don't care." repeated her best friend.

"kwon haru, i'm not liking your antics!" he complained offended.

the two girls continued on their way, jimin sure of where she was leading and haru, a little lost, behind her. they arrived at an almost completely unoccupied side of the restaurant, from the main hall of the place you couldn't see clearly and there were few tables, at the end of it, a double glass door that the now economist opened to pass through, the one who was following her also passing by it.

behind it, there was a rather small backyard, which was blocked by trees and bushes. beyond the decorative forestation, there was a concrete wall that could not even be seen among so many leaves and trunks. lights hung from the tops and branches, and there was even a small bench on one side. haru presumed that this place was specially designed for smokers, but at that moment it was empty.

"how did you find this place?" kwon inquired, her eyes on the small lamps above her.

"when i went to the bathroom i got the wrong direction and ended up here." she laughed shyly.

"it's pretty." she lowered her eyes, turning back to jimin.

"like you." she returned witty.

"and you." she added roguishly. "and you brought me here to...?" she raised an eyebrow mischievously.

"kwon haru," she put her hands behind her back, feet together and puffed out her chest, pretending to look like a prince about to make an announcement. "would you do me the honor..."

she paused to search her pockets for something, observe her fingers, and then surveyed her surroundings. she dropped her gaze to the ground, turning only with her upper body so that she could analyze behind her back. she leaned over and held a cigarette butt between her fingers, then extended it toward haru.

"is it antiromantic if i ask you to be my girlfriend with a cigarette butt?" she pouted. "i don't have a ring to give you."

"wait." haru was now the one digging through every crevice of her clothes looking for something that would work. she picked up her wallet and checked it. "is it any use proposing to me with a bill?"

"that's even less romantic than the cigarette." she dropped her arms on either side of her body listlessly.

"a picture of my mom?"

"haru."

"my id?" she continued without stopping checking.

"put that down, put that down." she approached her and pushed down the girl's hands holding her billfold.

"i didn't find anything either, sorry." she put the object away and made a regretful grimace.

"would you like to be my girlfriend?" she said again, unexpectedly.

"don't you need a ring, then?" the woman caught her face between her palms, creating an eye contact that exuded sweetness.

"i'll buy you one for our first anniversary." she promised, her voice soft, only dedicated to her. "and on the next one, and the one after that, and when i ask you to marry me." she held haru's waist. "although i'm so sure you're the love of my life that i might ask you to marry me before any anniversary."

"one step at a time, princess, we're here now." stopped the older one, laughing adoringly at such ideas.

"be my girlfriend." she asked again. "i love you, i don't want to not have you by my side, and i swear i will never ever again do anything to take you away from me. my place is with you."

"of course i will be your girlfriend." haru accepted.

upon hearing the answer, karina bounced on her feet on the spot because of the exhilaration that exploded inside her. she fleetingly pulled the girl from the back of her neck so they could join in a kiss to seal the pact.

it was the first kiss they had shared in two years that carried no pain behind it. all it brought was new beginnings and love. it was safety, and light. the promise that from now on, they both had a place to return to and a refuge for when everything got rough.

jimin's lips caressed haru's with affability, taking the exchange calmly, wanting to express all the stunning chaos she unleashed within herself through that gesture. the opposite held her figure gently, holding her as close to herself as possible as if trying to keep her from leaving again.

they broke the union carefully, still remaining over each other, their noses touching, their lips no more than an inch apart, "haru, let's move to busan." she suggested suddenly.

"what?" she frowned in surprise after hearing what the younger girl had just said.

"or come back to seoul." she added without thinking about what she was saying. she didn't have to as it had been on her mind for days.

"what are you talking about?" she let the girl go and walked a bit away.

"or i can move to incheon." she continued.

"wow, stop right there." she pointed her finger at her signaling to calm down. "what?" she reiterated.

"is that," she gulped in a breath of air, her grimace turning desperate. "you don't live here." she burst the bubble. "and i know we've been avoiding the subject voluntarily, but in two days you go back home, and then we'll be apart again." she began biting her nails.

haru was silent. she knew that what karina was telling her was the inevitable reality, and that they would soon have to part ways one more time, but she had chosen not to worry about it and somehow managed to forget.

"haru, i love you." she affirmed again. "and i'm tired of losing you, so if you tell me that in incheon you're happy, i wouldn't hesitate for a second to move there so i could be with you." she was sure of what she was saying. "but tell me the truth, is incheon for you? do you live the life you want there?"

the golfer knew she didn't. she had two friends in that city, one of whom was juyeon. she played on a team with people she didn't care about. she didn't feel full on her drive in the mornings to go to her training, she didn't even go for a walk in the streets like she often used to do in seoul.

what was there in Incheon for her? what was there in incheon that was hers?

she left seoul because it generated sadness in her, but if she had to be honest, thinking about incheon also made her feel miserable.

"busan?" she blurted out hesitantly after a moment in silence.

"weren't we happy when we were in busan?"

yes. the answer was clearly yes. depending on how you wanted to look at it, it was the place where it all started. where they admitted they felt things for each other and gave those emotions a place to be explored. despite being surrounded by people, it had felt like only they had been there. together. their own universe.

"just you and me?" she hesitated.

"well, we can take juyeon if you want, but she won't live with us." she said jokingly. "oh, and a cat." she finished seriously.

"you, me and a cat?" a smile began to tug at the corner of her mouth.

"what do you say?" she inquired hopefully, unable to hide that she was already excited.

"busan." she shook her head up and down, saying yes. "you and me."

karina let out the highest pitched squeal she had ever projected in her life, she ran towards haru almost as if flying, not even noticing how she came to be held to her girlfriend like a koala bear, her legs clinging to her waist, haru holding her tightly, contentment present in every part of their beings.

"and a cat." she stated again.

"yes, my princess, us and a cat." she guaranteed.

"and we will never separate again." jimin pulled away a little so she could look into her eyes.

"never." haru backed up her words, then moved closer and joined in a kiss.

— the end.

[a/n: thanks to everyone who read, 141 chapters wouldn't have happened without the support this story had. ♡]

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