#making this made me so emotional all over again

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader

Part 5 of Truth or Dare Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: Things are getting complicated, truths are being revealed, and a decisions are going to have to be made regarding the future. So much hangs in the balance and emotions are high as reality makes this about no more games.

Word Count: 9.8 k

Warnings: light mentions of smut (nothing explicit), pining, mutual pining, heavy angst, forcing a decision

Captain Price bristles at the private’s words, taken aback by this impromptu revelation, but he hides it all behind his usual stone cold stare. A gruff exhale exits his lips as he runs his fingertips over the perimeter of his mustache. “Don’t care ‘bout what happens on off hours,” he says full of contempt at being dragged into this bullshit. “It’s none of my business and it’s none of yours either, so best just drop it private.”

This isn’t how it’s supposed to go; the captain is supposed to march over to the lieutenant’s quarters and break up your little lovefest right this second at hearing his confession. At least that was what the private was hoping for when he decided to make this visit. He needs something more. 

“But sir,” he says more exasperatedly, “it isn’t just after hours. The first time I caught them, the lieutenant and sergeant were going at it in the munitions depot when I walked in; you remember that day you sent me to fetch Lt. Riley. They’ve even been engaging in activities in the field as well. During our mission they neglected their watch duties to screw around like some fucking teenagers. Is that what you call acceptable, sir? Is this how you run your operations?”

Goddammit, now it is Price’s problem. Messing around when off duty or on leave is one thing that can be easily overlooked as you are both adults who are engaging in activities with consent, but risking it all when out in the field is another matter altogether. There are protocols and you are supposed to be professionals. And if this bit of information gets out it could have dire consequences for the validity of this task force. 

“Maybe I should bring my concerns up to someone higher,” the private mutters in the silence that follows as Price mulls over everything in his mind. 

“What did ya say?” the captain fires back as he rejoins the conversation, his firm glare boring holes into the private.

Immediately the young man regrets having uttered it aloud, but there’s no going back now. “I just… I-if I need to, I-I will have to go above you, sir,” he stammers out as he tries to maintain his resolve.

Fuck, this is bad.

Price sits forward in his seat, his eyes never leaving the private even though he tries to divert his gaze; each time he brings it back Price is ready to meet it head on. “You will leave this be private,” Price threatens, his voice firm. “This is not under your jurisdiction, nor is it in your ability to decide who needs discipline in these matters. I will take care of it as I see fit; I am the one in charge, not you. Do you understand?”

“Sir, I should at least get to know that you are going to do…” the private tries to argue some more, but the captain is having none of it.

“You’re dismissed,” Price barks as he points a steady hand towards the door.

“But sir…” he tries to protest again and again he is cut off. 

“I said, dismissed private, or would you rather I start my disciplining with you,” Price says unyieldingly, staring him down with a glare that means he is seriously done with this conversation and with being disrespected. 

Quickly the private gets up from his seat with a furrow-browed nod and a rushed, pointed ‘yes, sir,’ that he mutters through his gritted teeth before he turns on his heels and stalks to the door to fling it open and stomp off into the night, leaving Price alone in his office once more as he slams it behind him. 

With the immediate quiet that follows, all Price can think about is what the private has revealed to him. To have the highly trained professional that is Simon Riley abandon everything to mess around with anyone during a mission is unheard of, but it being you makes this even more complicated. This is territory he has no prior knowledge on; something big must be happening for everything to be turned on its head and he doesn’t know what the fuck he is going to do about it all.

Though he knows he cannot just let this go. At least he has the weekend to think it all over, but he knows come Monday he is going to have to act or risk too much because that private is not going to let this go, that much is clear.

The captain decides that that is enough for the night and packs it up to head out. As he leaves out and turns to get back to his own quarters, his eyes linger over to where a specific officer is housed. “What the fuck have ya done Simon?” Price questions aloud to himself as he steps off into the darkness with much weighing on his mind, pondering the next steps of what actions must now be taken.

Back in the lieutenant’s room, hours pass in the blissfully exhaustive ecstasy produced from your union. Both of you slumber on peacefully, wrapped in one another, entirely unaware of anything outside the confines of the mattress until something unfamiliar makes Simon stir awake.

Intaking a full, deep breath, he fills his lungs with a flood of air as he comes back into consciousness, his eyes fluttering open in a mild panic from movement at his side. It takes him a moment to realize that it is you rolling back over to face him that has caught him off-guard; he forgot that you would still be in his bed. Mystery solved, he calmly settles back down into his pillow and watches the slow rise and fall of your chest, admiring how tranquil you look as your dark eyelashes rest delicately against your cheeks.

It’s been a long, long time since he’s slept beside anyone; he’d almost forgotten how comforting it can be to have another laying beside you. A weak smile spreads across his lips as careful fingers reach over to the side of your head so that he can tenderly tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

God, you’re beautiful just like this. How did he get so god damn lucky to have something so pure sleeping soundly next to him? You let out a whispered sigh and suddenly he is caught up in a whirlwind of feelings that have been in hibernation for years as his fingertips linger delicately against the soft flesh of your cheek a moment more. He wishes he could kick himself for not trying to get closer to you sooner, if only to have you here lying next to him as if it has always been this way.  

Those copper eyes drift to the plain black and white standard government issue clock tacked to the wall. It’s nearly five in the morning; still too early to be conscious just yet, but once he’s up there’s no going back down. He takes a few more minutes to silently appreciate your sleeping form by capturing the image of you like a polaroid in his mind and then decides to just let you sleep until the last minute before he wakes you up to send you safely on your way.

Who said you needed to rush off anyway? 

As carefully as all 6’4” of him can, he eases his way out of the bed and creeps bare-arsed to the en suite bathroom so that he can grab a quick shower, though he’d like nothing more than to keep the scent of you on him a little longer. It won’t do him any favors to go around base today with the fragrance of sex covering him like a beacon to draw people’s unwanted attention.

Cautiously he eases the bathroom door to where it is slightly ajar, not risking shutting it since he knows how bad the damned thing squeaks, and only then does he flick on the fluorescent lights to illuminate the space. Blinking to adjust his eyes to the harsh brilliance, he opens them and immediately catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror that faces the door.   

Even though he still carries the signs of sleep in his distinct features, he can already tell that he is different somehow and he walks closer to his reflection to get a better look. Everything is exactly where it should be, but his eyes seem brighter, more full of life… as if he is happier than he has been in recent memory. He stares back into them as if he is looking at a different person, a reunion with an old friend he hasn’t seen in a long time.  

And he doesn’t know what to think. It is a gift from you, after all…though you don’t even know you’ve given it to him yet.

Simon shakes his head and chuckles to himself, not fully ready to accept this drastic change to his appearance just yet, as he pulls from the mirror and walks the few steps to the shower to get it going. The pipes running to the showerhead squeak to life as run for a few seconds when without warning he feels a pair of arms wrap around his waist from behind as a warm, naked chest presses into his back. It momentarily takes him by surprise as he is still getting used to having someone around, but he eventually settles into your embrace. 

“Was tryin’ not to wake ya yet,” he mutters as he runs his hand over yours that is against his stomach.

“Heard the shower kick on,” you murmur sleepily into his shoulder as you place your lips to the smooth skin near his shoulder blade, “thought I could do with getting clean myself, so I wanted to join you.”

It isn’t a total lie, you do need to wash up after the mess from the night before, though you wish you could be honest and say that you just wanted to be close while you still can. You know you are going to have to leave soon if you want to make it back to your quarters without detection, but it doesn’t stop the feeling of disappointment that looms like a gray cloud at the back of your mind that you will have to part ways. 

Simon holds your palms pressed rigid and flat against his abdominals so you can’t let go as he leans in to check the temperature of the water with his free hand. The heated liquid rains down onto his palm perfectly warm, but not too hot, and being satisfied he pulls you both inside the cozy oasis. 

He moves you in front of him so that your back is directly under the shower head, letting the heated water run through the length of your hair and down the curves of your bare back to keep you warm. It feels like you’re still in a dream the way the steam rises around your bodies in the tight space, the condensation clinging to your skin like a warm blanket. Maybe you are still asleep in his bed, you feel barely awake as it is, and if that’s the case you hope you don’t wake up cause you don’t want to leave the fantasy just yet. 

The soothing water lulls you into a drowsy calm as Simon holds you close against him while he naturally rocks you both back and forth with slow, easy movements as he gently tries to help you wake up. He cannot help admiring the flush in your face brought on by the heat or the way the droplets trickle over your soft, delicate skin. Reaching out, his hand connects with your cheek as he strokes his coarse thumb over your jaw and up to the corner of your mouth before dragging it heavily over your bottom lip until he has them parted. 

“I swear you’re a fuckin’ dream, pretty girl,” he whispers as his hand on your face brings it in towards his so that he can gently connects your lips. 

Memories of confessions from the night before spring back to the surface, admissions of possession that he doesn’t want to take back even though that mind-numbing haze from being inside you is gone. You can hear him sigh heavily as he breaks the kiss to rest his forehead against yours.

If only he could wake up like this every day. Could that even be a possibility for someone like him? Inside the steam-filled oasis that cloaks you both from reality, he allows himself to fantasize just a little. Maybe…maybe…

Simon lets you go only to grab the soap from its place sitting on the edge of the tub, ready to clean up the mess he made. Taking care of someone other than himself is an oddly comforting sensation to him and even though you try to protest that he doesn’t have to, he still takes the time to wash you down anyway before tending to himself. 

He leaves you inside the shower to finish up as he steps out into the bathroom, wrapping a towel securely around his hips, making sure to leave a towel for you as well before he heads to the mirror. His rigorous actions between your legs last night left a rather rough patch against your thigh that he caught sight of in the shower and checking his face in the foggy bit of glass above the sink, Simon decides it’s about time to shave.

…cause he is definitely going to get between those legs again soon. 

A bag of random toiletries lies at the edge of the sink and he rummages around in it until he locates his razor. He steps up to the counter and turns on the sink just as the creak from the shower handle rings out and the water is shut off. From the mirror he can see you step out and wrap the towel he’s set out for you around your chest. 

You ring out your hair behind you before you move to his side and turn to rest your butt against the edge of the countertop. Looking down, you spy the shaving instrument in his hand.

“Gettin’ rid of it?” you ask with a hint of disappointment as you reach up and run your fingertips over his jaw. The steam from the shower has already softened the hairs so they don’t prickle roughly against your touch as you outline his face.

Suddenly he can’t find his voice; every single time you touch him it’s like the first time all over again and it makes his head spin. Clearing his throat he looks down at you. “It’s a bit too rough, innit?” he says, tapping at your thigh with the abrasion on it. “Don’t wanna hurt ya again.”

Why did it sound more deep a sentiment than it should have been? A lump wells in your throat as you realize he is doing this for you and you alone; it’s just a shave, but to have him care about your wellbeing is very special to you. Especially after the confessions from the night before; clearly he has meant it: you belong to him now.

“Well, if you must…but, I wonder. Can I?” you ask with a smile as you reach for the blade in his hand.

Simon pauses before giving it up to you. This is a new one for him and he is a little unsure, but curious enough to see where it leads. You move your body between him and the counter so that you can hop up and sit yourself in front of him. Opening your legs, you pull him in close.

“You trust me, don’t you?” you ask barely above a whisper as you situate him in the middle of your legs. 

More than anyone, he thinks to himself as he silently stares back into your eyes. He doesn’t say a word, doesn’t have to, he just drops his hands by his sides and tilts his jaw up.

Your ankles link behind the small of his back as your hand grasps his chin to keep his head steady so you can place the razorblade to his cheek. The sharp edge of the blade pushes into his skin and is dragged slowly down the line of his face until it reaches your hand where you pick it up to move on to the next section. It’s like an intimate dance, the risk of it all as the blade continues to pass over his skin, but you skill keeping him safe from cuts, making his heart race so you can feel his pulse under your fingertips.

“Just hold still,” you say as you feel the sensation of his hands moving up your bare thighs, running up towards your hips that have peeked out through the slit in the towel. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Ya won’t,” he says in that gruff tone without hesitation and you can feel the warmth rise in your face. 

There is steam still lingering in the air from the shower; it is fogging the mirror and adds a filmy haze to the atmosphere. The aroma of his soap is strong between your bodies, both of you coated in his usual plain, clean scent. It’s nice just being here like this with him. 

Another pass of the blade and more of that thick stubble comes right off under your careful hand. You move the blade over to the sink to rinse it again and that’s when you feel it, a stabbing against your thigh from within the confines of his towel. His damp, hair-covered chest rubs against your forearms as he moves in even tighter to you.

“Like the way ya look, all serious like when you’re workin’ hard at somethin’,” he says in a breathy whisper as you finish another swipe of the razorblade across his jaw. “Didn’t know how good you’d be with a sharp object in your hand.”

“Well, if you keep moving I might not be so precise. I’m almost done,” you scold him, but Simon isn’t deterred just because you have something sharp in your hand. He has something just as deadly prodding into you too.

His strong fingertips jab themselves into your hips, stabbing into the meat hard through the towel as he presses himself into you and suddenly it feels like you can’t quite catch your breath. He hums deep in his chest, a low, guttural sound that makes your clit throb as those long fingers of his twirl the loose, wet strands of your hair between them.

“I’ll give ya ‘bout another minute to get it done,” he says as his gaze lingers longingly on your mouth. “That’s all I can wait.” 

Suddenly the room isn’t the only thing that is obscured in a haze; your mind is misfiring terribly now as you hurry to finish the job while also being sure you don’t miss any spots. You rinse the blade for the last time and quickly check him over, flashing him a satisfied smile at your handiwork. 

“I thought we just got clean for the day?” you ask as he takes the blade from your hand and sets it on the countertop beside you.  

He doesn’t answer the question with words, instead letting his mouth do something else to convey his thoughts. His kiss is softer now with the missing stubble, though just as passionate as it always is and it takes your breath away. 

“I like the way you kiss me,” you murmur against his lips. 

“Good, cause I don’t plan on stoppin’ anytime soon, sweetheart,” he groans as his fingers reach up to your chest to find the edge of the towel; with one small tug he has it undone. It drops down around the sink as he leans in more aggressively to capture your mouth.  

There’s still enough time for another shower, right? Fuck, at this point he’ll make time.

Dawn is just beginning to break its first soft light over the base as you step out of the shower for the second time and hurriedly get dressed. Simon meets you at the door with a knot in the pit of his stomach; time’s up whether he is ready or not and if you want to make it back undetected it has to be now.

“Got plans later tonight?” he asks as he pulls you to him one last time.

You look up into his face and shake your head. “Not that I know of. Gonna be a light day today. Why?”

Simon pins you against him with his arm around your waist as he tilts his head down to kiss your lips. “Just thinkin’ ya might want ta be in later,” he says, giving one last peck before he opens the door and you immediately take off in the direction of your personal quarters.

He keeps his eyes on you till you’re out of sight, trying to wipe away the slight upturning of the corners of his mouth. “Don’t get ahead of yourself,” he grumbles under his breath as he shuts the door.

The rest of the day is spent in a blur, punctuated by the few times you just happened to catch a glimpse of Simon through the days as you go about. Your mind constantly wanders back to what he meant by you might want to stay in later, so when Soap asks if you’re gonna come hang in the rec with them for a bit of Saturday fun, you decline and stay put in your room instead.   

It’s a little after 9 o’clock when there is a heavy knock on your door, loud raps that echo through the room and make you put away the book you are failing to distract yourself with under your bed. You hop off the mattress, your heart fluttering in your chest. Making it to the door and pulling it open you immediately come face to face with the person leaning against your door frame: Simon. 

“Ya gonna let me in, luv?” he asks. “Or ya just gonna fuckin’ leave me out ‘ere all night?”

You cross your arms and furrow your brow as if you are agitated, but it doesn’t last more than a few seconds before you are breaking character. “Couldn’t stay away for one night, could you?” you pick back.

There is a visible smirk beneath the thin fabric of his lightweight balaclava. “ ‘S part a my routine,” he says as you grab his hand and drag him inside. “Too used to it now.” 

“Well far be it from me to stop you,” you say with a smile as you shut the door and bolt it behind you both while Simon quickly rips off the mask and pulls you into a kiss. 

“Knew you’d cave,” he breathes against your mouth.

“Maybe I like you around,” you say back.

Maybe I like bein’ around, he thinks as he kisses you back harder as you lead him over to your bed. 

Sunday evening is spent in the same vein except with you both switching off again so that you are the one to come over to his to spend your evening together. Cause he is right, this arrangement has become routine now and your day just doesn’t feel complete without seeing him. Unfortunately though, it being Sunday you both decide to call it earlier as your duties will call you to work early in the morning.

One lingering goodbye later and Simon is once again watching you walk away, secretly making a wish that maybe you’ll get the chance soon to spend more time together when something breaks him out of his thoughts. As he shuts the door behind you, suddenly he can hear a distinct buzzing coming from somewhere near his bed. He knows that sound; it’s his cellphone. It’s late and he never gets a call at this time, so quickly he grabs it up off the nightstand near the bed and as soon as he is able to get a look at the screen, his heart sinks into the floor: Price is the one that is calling. 

He picks it up. “Yes, sir,” he answers in his usual stern tone.

There is a pause over the line before the captain speaks. “Lieutenant,” Price says, “I apologize for calling, I know it’s late, but I need to see you in my office tomorrow morning. 0800 hours. There are some things we urgently need to discuss.”

This strikes Simon as odd; never has the captain called him this late to inform him of a meeting the next day, so why would he be doing it now? Something feels off about it all and though he has no information other than that his presence is needed, there is something in Price’s tone that has his blood running cold. 

“What’s this about, sir?” Simon asks, keeping his voice metered as his heart begins to race. 

Price sighs. “I would rather wait till the mornin’ to talk further as this is something that needs to be discussed in person.”

“Yes, sir,” Simon agrees.  

“That is all lieutenant, enjoy the rest of your evening,” the captain says in a rush and with that the line goes dead, leaving Simon confused and slightly worried.

Time seems to drag on endlessly as anxiety keeps him up the entire night tossing and turning as he stares into the ceiling. He thinks about texting you just to see if you’re up, but he talks himself out of it. His needless worries shouldn’t bother you, even though he knows you’d answer him in a heartbeat. No, he just needs to get through the night and then in the morning everything will be settled; it’s going to be fine.

An hour before he is supposed to meet the captain and Simon is already up and dressed; his office is less than a ten minute walk from Simon’s, but he wants to be early. It’s better to just get this over with so he can enjoy the rest of his day and make plans to see you later. With twenty minutes still to go he heads out and makes his way across the base. 

With a knock on the door, he waits until Price looks up before entering the office. 

“Early as usual,” the captain greets him.

“Better than late,” he says, before nodding back behind him. “Ya want me to shut the door?” 

“Not yet,” Price says and Simon leaves the doorway to take his seat in one of the chairs facing the large, wooden desk.

He’s sitting for just a few minutes before Price’s eyes dart up to the door and he can feel the shadow of another person standing there. “Ah, yes, come in and shut the door. Now that you are both here, we can get started,” he hears the captain say as he turns his head to see who it is that has arrived; he had been under the impression that this was a solo meeting this whole time.

Suddenly his heart stops as the person comes into his line of sight. It’s you, the blood draining from your face as you see him sitting there. It’s clear you have been caught off-guard by this as much as he has. The atmosphere becomes tense and strained as you take a seat next to Simon. Captain Price sits tall with authority as he stares back at the pair of you, a grave look in his gaze. 

“Do you know why I’ve called you in here?” Price asks, looking first at you, then the lieutenant.

Neither of you feel keen enough to say anything, but you finally speak up first, if only to break the anxiety bubbling under your moderately calm surface. “No, sir.”

Price takes a hesitant breath. “I have been informed over the weekend about you both engaging in acts of misconduct,” he says firmly. “You’ve been seen cavorting with one another on several occasions. Now, there are things that can be overlooked and if it were up to me I woulda simply turned a blind eye and pretended to know anything, but it has been brought to light that these ‘activities’ were done while out in the field on your latest mission. Is this true?” 

The hair on Simon’s arms is standing on end and he feels like he is about to be sick, the bile violently churning in his stomach as his worst fear is realized. Instantly he feels guilty and begins to blame himself; this is all his fault. After all, he was the one to break protocol back at the safehouse. His careless actions have caught up to you both and now you will have to face the consequences.

Price turns his attention to you as there is no hiding the guilt on your face like Simon can behind his mask and though neither of you have spoken yet to confirm, there is no need. Your body language mixed with his lieutenant’s silence alone tells him that the accusations that were made are indeed true.  

“You both understand that this is out of my hands,” Price emphasizes the point. “If this reaches anywhere outside this base my authority will be brought into question and this operation cannot afford that. Not to mention that I risk the possibility of losing either one or both of you if things escalate. What the hell were you thinkin’, doin’ that while deployed?”

The lieutenant doesn’t have an answer, at least not one that will make this all go away. The problem is that he wasn’t thinking; all he knew was that for the first time in a long while he wanted something so bad that the consequences didn’t matter in that moment. Now he has to pay for them and unfortunately that means you do as well…and that is what is breaking his heart. 

He has dragged you into hell with him.

“You both have crossed a line that I can’t pull you back from,” Price continues with a defeated exhale. In all honesty, he wants nothing more than to let this go, but there are too many variables at stake. “The one who reported this is threatening to take this up the ladder as far as they need if I do nothing. My hands are tied on the matter.”

“Sir, if you’ll let me explain, perhaps we can come to an agreement…” you try to reason with your captain, but that is not how this will go.

Price can hear the tremble in your voice and he knows he’s struck a chord. The look he gives you is one full of remorse. “But in the end we’re all adults here and that means ya have a say in what happens to yourselves. If you want to request a transfer or, hell, apply for a discharge, I can’t stop you; that is a decision you have a right to make.”

The wind feels like it has been knocked from Simon’s lungs and though he can see Price talking, his mind will not allow him to fully comprehend what is being said. 

Amidst the stunned hush that has fallen over the room, Price slowly pushes his chair out from the desk and makes his way to stand. “I know I’ve sprung this on you both without so much as a warning, so I’ll give you some time alone to make your decisions. Otherwise, I will have to make them for you and that is something I want to avoid.”

With that he steps out of the office, closing the door behind him, and thrusting you both into an uncomfortably tense stillness. It lingers for far too long as Simon battles internally with what to do, struggling to accept that his happiness has imploded as it always does, but one thing he keeps coming back to is the fact that no matter what, you will be forced to separate if one or both of you decide to stay in this line of work.  

The taskforce means everything to you just as it does him and this is so much bigger than simply exploring the depths of a crush. This is your entire life, all the blood, sweat, and effort you’ve both put in to be here; it’s all you’ve worked so hard for. It is all you both have ever known. 

Can you really give that all up? It’s too soon to be having this type of life-altering conversation.

Out of the turmoil in his mind, he hears you calling his name. “Simon? Hey,” you call out to him again to get his attention; it feels like he is a million miles away even though he is still sitting right beside you. 

He can’t bear to look you in the face and keeps his eyes locked on his shoes; his gaze is so avoidant that it is painful, especially after how close you both have become. Still, you try your hardest to lighten the mood even through the ache making your chest tight. 

“Not the best way to start the morning,” you chuckle uncomfortably. 

More silence follows, more agony. He’s going to have to say something at some point and when he does it’s all going to come crashing down. As long as he is quiet he can suspend the moment for as long as possible. 

“Listen,” you say, “I know this sounds bad, but we can figure it out. I mean, I don’t have a problem with requesting the transfer if I have to.”

That’s the last thing he wants; you can’t leave. If you leave it will kill him. “Sweetheart… don’t…” Simon speaks up for the first time since you entered the office and it sounds like he’s being tortured. 

“Would a transfer really be so bad? Who knows? It could just be for a short while until everything cools off,” you remark, still hopeful, but he simply shakes his head.

Simon pauses. “No, ya can’t do that,” he says and you can feel a lump forming in the base of your throat that makes you almost gag.

“Isn’t it my decision? Don’t I get a say in what I do?” you push.

Another drawn out pause. “Ya don’t wanna do that, I know ya don’t.”

“Don’t speak for me,” you say harshly as you know where this is headed and you can’t stand even the thought of it. “I can choose to do what I want.”

“I can’t let ya do that,” he denies you again, his words firm. “I can’t let ya fuckin’ give up everythin’ for me, no matter how much I may want it. Ya forget I read your personnel file when ya arrived, I know ya worked your ass off ta get ‘ere. You made it all the way ta sergeant by the sweat of your brow. Don’t fuckin’ throw it all away jus’ for somethin’ so new.”

More pauses. Why is there so much silence present now? It hurts to have all that quiet be filled with sadness where it was only comfort before. 

“So, this is it then?” Your heart is shattering into pieces, you can physically feel it crumble as you suffocate on the sadness. When did this get so god damn complicated?

Simon bites the inside of his cheek until he can taste copper. “I don’t know what else ta fuckin’ do…” he says quietly. “This is all so sudden, I don’t ‘ave a plan. I just know ya can’t leave and I need more time.”

He’s not as quick to act on this as you are and you can’t fault him for that. In all honesty he isn’t wrong; this is all happening so fast that it’s overwhelming and nothing really feels like the right decision. So, even though it pains you to concede to his argument, you do and the heartbreak wins. Yet you cling on to the hope that maybe there is a way out of this. He did not say outright that he is completely done, only that he needs time to think. 

You can give him time, right?

“Please, Simon, just look at me.”

Those brown eyes drift up to meet yours and the agony of this whole fucked up situation is written in his gaze. This is supposed to be something wonderful, not something that has casualties, and he is being ripped apart by duty and what he wants most. He wants to scream, beat his fists, break anything, but it won’t do any good; he is like a man cursed…somehow this was always going to happen.

“ ’m sorry,” he says and a heavy bit of silence follows as you sit there just looking at one another. 

Overcome with emotion, you swallow hard. “I know,” you retort as you reach out to take his hand in yours. “I know.”

Simon slides his long fingers in between the spaces in yours and holds on so tight to your hand it’s almost painful. Irrationally he thinks that maybe if he squeezes hard enough not even fate can take you from him, but that isn’t the case. There is no stopping what has to happen and though you both can prolong the moment, you can’t stop time. 

Releasing his grasp, he lets you go and all at once you feel like you’re drowning. He leaves your side only for a moment to reopen the door as a sign that a decision has been made. Several more excruciating minutes pass, but eventually Price reenters the office and again takes his seat. There is a gloom that sits in the room now like a fog and he knows without even having to ask that a decision has been reached and it is one that clearly was not reached happily.

“It’s over, sir,” Lt. Riley confirms with the short response; any more than that and he may fall apart.

Price nods in acknowledgement. “In that case, I think it best to send ya both out on separate missions very soon. It’ll show that action has been taken in case anything else comes from the allegations. I appreciate your cooperation in this matter; I know it could not have been easy.”

You nod back firmly in agreement and Lt. Riley does the same. 

Price quickly dismisses you both and you immediately bolt up from your seat to make it to the door in a flurry of quick steps, too overwhelmed by your emotions to sit still another second more beside the one thing you can no longer have. You can’t seem to catch your breath and even though you make it outside of the stifling atmosphere inside the office, it does not lessen. 

Your feet carry you forward to where you have no clue; there is no rational thought left with you right now. All you know is that you need to put distance between everything and everyone that you can before you shatter because it hurts like you are being torn in half from the inside and if you are going to rupture you want to do it where no one can see.

But grief is a volatile and disastrous thing; it consumes and destroys and confuses. Right now, your mind is scrambling to feel something other than the pain of your loss, any other emotion it can experience that won’t murder it and it settles on the emotion that is the opposite side of grief: anger.

Halfway across the site you spot that familiar mohawked head near the mess hall and a rage builds in you. You and Simon had speculated before about Johnny’s knowledge of your situation, what if he was the one that told Price? Intentional or not, what if he is the reason all this is destroyed? There is not a shred of proof, but your brain is desperate to find someone to blame, anyone to throw all your anger on and that just happens to be him. Before you can stop yourself, you are already bounding his way. 

Johny looks up as you come within earshot, turning his back to the building. “Hey, stranger, ‘aven’t seen ye ‘round much this weekend. Wonder why that is?” he says with a knowing smirk, but it drops from his face as he sees the look on yours. 

Without warning you grab Johnny by the collar and manhandle him until you are able to haul him forward and slam into the wall behind him, knocking the wind from his lungs as you crush him up against the concrete. “Was it you?” you spat the question with fury into his face. “Tell me now or so help me God…”

“What the fuckin’ hell are ye talkin’ ‘bout?” he asks back as he struggles under your tight grip around his collar. “Have ye lost yer mind?”

Blinded by rage, you pull him back only to shove him harder into the wall. “You know exactly what I’m talking about,” you say, the venom in your voice full of acid. “Were you the one that ran like a bitch to tattle on me to Price? You better have a fucking good reason why.”

Johnny pauses and stops struggling against your grip, confused. “Wait, what?” he asks. “Someone’s gone te Price ‘bout somethin’? Ye gotta explain everythin’ cause I don’t get it; seriously, what’s this about?”

The tone of his voice causes you to really discern the look in his eyes: he is genuinely confused by your statement. “You really don’t know what I’m talking about?” you question.

He shakes his head. “No and I’m bein’ serious.”

In the time you’ve known him, Johnny has always been straight with you and you do genuinely trust him to tell you the truth. He may be a pain in your ass sometimes, but honesty is always something that you have shared. If he says he doesn’t know, he must really not know.

“Tell me, what’s happened?” he asks, his brows drawn together as he stares back at you with serious concern. 

You choke back the emotion gathered in your throat as your eyes sting. No sense in hiding anything; he’d probably find out eventually anyway if gossip gets around. Besides, keeping this inside makes you feel like you’re rotting. “Price knows about what me and the lieutenant have been doing in secret and what we did while we were on our last mission,” you admit as you hang your head. 

Johnny is silent for a moment. “I fuckin’ knew it,” he says with a chuckle, which he immediately regrets as you pop your head up to give him a heated glare. “No, I… look, jus’ listen ta me for a moment.”

Releasing him from your grasp you take a step back, the anger subsiding to be replaced by an overwhelming sense of dread. Tears burn around the rims of your eyes at how lost you feel and how easily you are flying off the handle; it makes you worried. How are you meant to control this? How are you meant to survive?

Johnny straightens himself up and continues. “Yes, I knew ‘bout ye and the lieutenant…cause I was the one that orchestrated the whole setup. I seen tha way ye two kept eyein’ each other an’ I decided that ye both needed a push in tha right direction. Why the hell would I get ye together only ta get ye in trouble with Price?” 

You divert your gaze again. “Well, it’s all over now,” you can barely say aloud; just hearing yourself speak it into existence feels like being stabbed in the chest. “Whoever ratted us out is threatening to go above Price’s head if they need to. There’s nothing left for us to do, but end it or shit’s gonna get worse. It’s already done.”

Fuck, you can’t hold back for much longer and the last thing you need is to cry, but a pair of strong hands clasp around your shoulders to bring you back from the brink of your sadness. 

“Look,” Johnny tries to reassure as he is genuinely worried about your wellbeing. “I’ll figure out who it was that stuck their bloody nose in it, alright? Jus’ leave it ta me; I’ll get ye a name and hell, I’ll help ye gut the bastard if ye need. We’ll figure it out, honest.”

Somehow you don’t think anything will come of it, but at least it is something. Right now hope is a drug you have to take just to get through.

Days pass the same way with little variation in your mood. You try to stay as busy as you possibly can, filling your schedule to the brim with as much work as Price can give you. He doesn’t mention it, but everything he assigns you seems to keep you from even crossing paths with your former lover and for that you are grateful. Then a few days become a week and a week becomes two, but time does nothing to stop the ache in your chest and at the end of each day, when you return to your room and the quiet hits you, it’s impossible not to shed a few tears into your pillow as you pine for the company you once had. 

Thankfully mission assignments finally go out and you can spend your time consumed in preparation to depart to fill the void that settles in your chest. It’s a couple of days before you are meant to leave and information makes its way through the grapevine that Lt. Riley is headed out tonight with his team and god if it doesn’t kill you not even to get the chance to say goodbye.

You can’t even finish your lunch today; you are so upset by the news that you quickly toss your food into the trash and head out. You’re so wrapped in your thoughts you don’t even hear Johnny calling to you until he has caught up to you outside of the mess hall and is grabbing your elbow to drag you alongside him. Where are you going? You have no clue.   

“What are you doing?” you ask with annoyance, not up for whatever bullshit he’s trying to pull today. 

“Jus’ keep walkin’,” he says, his head constantly on a swivel as if he is looking for something. You try to protest, but it gets you nowhere as he keeps booking it across the base with you in hand until you both reach the munitions depot where he finally comes to a stop and lets you go. 

You look up at the building. “Why are we here?”

“Keep yer head and jus’ go inside,” Johnny says as he gives you a shove towards the door. “Ye only got a couple minutes, so ‘urry the hell up.”

You stare at him with a raised eyebrow. What the hell is he talking about? You really aren’t in the mood for his shit, but you also don’t have the energy in you to fight him on it; you let out a weighted huff and grab the handle, pulling it hard so that the door swings open and you head inside. 

“What the fuck am I supposed to be looking for?” you question yourself.

There is movement and you hear the sound of boot steps. “That would be me,” a gravelly voice sounds at your side, making you jump.  

You are thrown into respiratory distress as you turn around where you’re greeted with that familiar mask and its wearer is just standing within reach. “Simon,” you breathe his name like a prayer, forgetting decorum.

“Wrangled Mactavish inta helpin’ me, said he’d bring ya and guard the door,” Lt. Riley says as he stands there, unsure of what to do with his hands. “I-” he sighs, “I had ta see ya ‘fore I leave.” 

Suddenly the room is spinning and you can’t figure out which way is up. After the agonizing chasm of space that has been put between you it is disorienting to be this close again and you aren’t sure what to do. Do you run into his arms? Do you keep your distance?

It doesn’t make sense.

“I know I shouldn’t have brought ya ‘ere like this,” he says, “but I…missed ya.” He pauses and sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose through the mask. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m doin’. I’m supposed ta follow orders no questions asked, but…” 

Standing there, waiting on bated breath, you stare back at him with those big doe eyes until you are able to speak and break the silence. “But what?”

More silence follows your question as he steps closer and closer and closer. Then he stops and there are only inches between your bodies. He reaches out his hand and the backs of his gloved fingers brush against your own with a touch so delicate it doesn’t seem humanly possible, most of all from someone like the lieutenant. 

“Priorities are changin’,” he admits as he takes your hand into his grasp hesitantly, eyes unable to look anywhere but at the connection as if he isn’t sure if he should touch you at all. “I never experienced somethin’ like this before. I don’t know what the fuck to do.” 

“Are you saying you want to go against Price?” 

His sight lingers on your conjoined hands as his jaw shifts under the mask, struggling to find the words. As he clears his throat, his gaze finally draws back to your face to meet your eyes. He doesn’t have to say anything, you can read the sentiment in his gaze: he is being tortured by being forced to choose between his duty to this task force and what he wants above all else. 

“Listen, yeah? As long as we follow orders, we get ta stay near each other. Fight it and who knows what the fuck’ll happen. I…” he pauses, the pain of confession hard to stand, “I don’t know if I can risk not bein’ able to see ya at all, sweetheart. Even just a glimpse cross the way.”

“You think that is better than one of us leaving?” you want to ask, but the question dies on your tongue and in its place is only a bitter taste in your mouth. 

You know if you say anything at all it’s only going to make it harder- for the both of you. You are just two soldiers bound by a need to do what is right and nothing is going to change that. Fuck do you want to scream, to rage at what you are being strong-armed into doing against your will, yet your exterior stays a calm mask against the storm inside. The situation puts you between a rock and a hard place and though you don’t want to admit it he is ultimately right; if all you get is to have nothing or what you had before all this mess started, then you would choose the latter.

At least you can still be around one another; at least you can still see him. Even if every time you do it is going to shatter your heart all over again.

Lt. Riley feels like he is being ripped apart as he catches the agonizing pain in your eyes. “I need ya ta know, if circumstances were different…” 

You stop him before he can say more by gently placing your hand against his covered lips; you cannot bear to hear anything else about ‘what ifs’ and ‘maybes’. It’s too painful right now to dream. Accepting reality is the only thing that is going to help you survive now. The lieutenant’s eyes drop to the floor as he comes to terms with the fact that some things are better left unsaid. 

Removing your hand from the fabric of his mask, you can feel that recognizable mass welling in your throat and you know you are going to have to leave soon or risk him seeing you cry. That is an image you don’t want to leave him with, not if this is what he has to see before he goes.

“I’m glad I got to see you before you leave,” you say while forcing your best smile for him. “It was hard thinking you’d leave and I wouldn’t get to say goodbye at least.”

He nods as he cups your cheek. “Ya be safe, yeah?” 

You lean into his touch and close your eyes; god, it’s hard not to enjoy his touch. “You too.” 

Time is slipping away fast like sand through a sieve and he knows that you only have a few short minutes left that you will go unnoticed so he blurts out the question that sits on the tip of his tongue and he can’t stop it from coming out. “One last kiss?” he asks, though he hates himself for doing so.

A ragged breath is pushed out of your lungs as your eyes flutter open. The question is surprising, but you already know the answer; you can’t say no because to deny him would mean denying yourself and your heart won’t let you. His hands paw at your face as his eyes beg. 

Your heartbeats mesh together as you press your body against his until they become one rhythm. He keeps his hands locked to your face as you reach up and slip the bottom of his mask up over his lips and rest it on top of his nose. It feels like you are holding your breath and time stops as you again capture his unwavering stare.   

“Make it count,” you breathe.

You can feel the shudder from his desperate inhale as he collapses into you like the burst from a dying star, crashing his fiery kiss onto your mouth with an intensity that makes your knees buckle, but he has you. His arms keep you up as he aggressively steals your lips over and over again, pinning his mouth on yours until it burns, stealing your breath, tasting your kiss, letting that gnawing ache that had been festering in his heart eat him alive.   

His intensity is matched with your own as you kiss him back with everything that you have. You need the feeling of his lips to be imprinted on yours for as long as they can and you push so hard he cannot catch air. But just as quickly as it started, it has to end.

“Eh, ye need ta ‘urry guys,” the sound of Soaps voice calls from the door, forcefully thrusting you both back into reality. Lt. Riley grips around your biceps and pries himself from you with everything he has and with that he bounds away as you fall to your knees and enfold your arms around yourself like a hug, the tears streaming down your cheeks in heavy, engorged droplets. 

He is gone.

The time away does nothing to ease the pain of your separation. Being off base makes your absence in his life even more prominent. You are in his head constantly after that last kiss, haunting him like a ghost that he cannot get rid of and though he knows he should, part of him won’t let go; he can’t. No, that’s not entirely it. Even if he could let go, he won’t.

The lieutenant’s days spent on assignment pass by agonizingly slow and he begins to realize that as much as he enjoys what he does, that it is no longer holding the same importance in his heart as it once did. That feeling has been replaced by something else and that is the way he felt with you. He had thrown everything outside of work to the wayside because never believed that he would get a chance at bits of normalcy in his life. Until you…

What if he is throwing away something that could fulfill him more than his work with the 141? Could he live with that? Whenever he finds himself with a free moment, he spends them silently contemplating that question, mulling it over incessantly in his mind even though he keeps returning to the same conclusion: he can’t live with it. 

He would rather regret leaving all this behind if it meant he could be with you than to regret letting you slip through his fingers. And he desperately wants to tell you that he finally knows what to do.

The thought eats at him until one night, as he lays awake staring at the pitch black ceiling, he can no longer take it and without thinking he is digging through his pack to grab his cell phone and just like that the small, square device is in his hand and he is turning it on. As the light pierces through the darkness, missed call after missed call pops up on the screen all from… Mactavish?  

It’s only been off for a few hours. What the fuck is going on?

Lt. Riley hurriedly moves himself into a quiet corner away from the others sleeping and quickly redials the number. The repetitive ringing continues until they instantaneously stop and the young sergeant answers with an urgency in his tone that makes the lieutenant’s heartbeat pound in his ears.

“LT, fuck, been tryin’ te get a hold a ye fer a while now,” Soap says over the receiver. “Don’t ye ever answer yer god damn phone?”

The lieutenant tries to speak quietly so that he won’t draw any prying ears into eavesdropping on this conversation. “What the hell sergeant? Ya think I just have all the fuckin’ time to chitchat?”

Soap ignores the lieutenant’s agitation; this is more important and he is risking a lot by even having this conversation at all, so it’s gotta be quick. “ ‘Ave ye spoken te Price? Laswell? Anyone back ‘ere?” he asks as if insisting on a swift answer.

“No,” Lt. Riley confirms. “Haven’t had a need. Why?”

“Fuck, so no one’s said anythin’ te ye yet?” Soap questions as if the fact is distressing him.

“ ‘Bout what? Today, Mactavish,” Lt. Riley says with a hint of unchecked panic in his voice. Nothing about how Mactavish sounds is making the lieutenant feel any better, not the way whatever it is has him flustered like this. 

“We ‘ave a situation,” he says firmly and what comes out of his mouth next makes the usually calm and collected lieutenant nearly drop his phone as his entire body goes numb. “The sergeant and her team deployed right after ye, as ye know… all was fine until a few days ago.”

Simon can’t breathe as Soap finishes his sentence. “...we’ve lost contact…they’re all currently MIA.”

Tag list: @flameohotpotatooo @shadowtfpcod @xnyx1n @igotmajordaddyissues @essentialbeats-blog @mishaglass

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #call of duty #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut #simon #ghost simon riley #simon smut #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley imagine #simon riley angst #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x you #ghost call of duty #ghost #cod ghost #cod

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

It's a Match! || poly!141 x Reader

[Chapter 31] || [Chapter 33]

Pairing: Gaz x gn!Reader || Ghost x gn!Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.3K~ cw: not angst but a bit 'angsty', fluff fluff fluff. Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: This one made me all emosh to write ngl.

Chapter 32: No Harm Done.

You're sitting by the sliding glass door leading out to the balcony on Sunday morning, looking out and holding a warm drink in your hands.

It's raining outside. It's always raining in England, so it shouldn't really surprise you... but it still feels like a lazy, down-sort of day regardless.

You're home alone. Johnny went to base for P.T. and a meeting of sorts, while Kyle went out to the gym himself, giving you some time for yourself.

Your phone sits in front of you, fingers tapping away, back-and-forth, between chats with friends and with the lads, your lads.

Ghost said they'd text you to let you know when they were back, a promise they'd made after they sort of just turned up at your door all injured and hurt without warning so many weeks ago.

It feels like it's been an eternity since you had them all here.

Your eyes find your chat with Simon, flittering over the last couple of texts you sent each other. Right before the boys left on their newest mission.

Regardless of what Kyle and Johnny say about Simon, he's actually the best texter out of all of them... John being the worst.

simon: Have about 5 minutes before we have to go. you: will u be safe? simon: Always am sweetheart. simon: Don't you worry about me. you: i meant ALL of you. you: and of course i worry about u! simon: If it was about all of us, you wouldn't be messaging me separately. simon: And I appreciate it but you shouldn't. you: i hate how smart u are. you: u face death literally every day in your job simon: And I always come back. you: okay but im allowed to worry no? you: youd worry about the others too? simon: I guess so. simon: But I'll be fine. you: u dont know that. simon: I know enough. simon: Been doing this for over a decade. you: that's not reassuring the way you think it is. simon: You're very worried. Is this because of what I said?

That text makes you set down your phone when you read it again, your face warm with embarrassment at the reminder, just like it had been during that text exchange as it was happening.

He had told you he loves you. Two of them had by now.

The thought of that still makes you shiver, the words so full of emotion and vulnerability when Simon said them, never any pressure on you, just a gesture on his end.

you: maybe? simon: That's really cute of you. simon: Don't let it make you worry or overthink. simon: I'll make sure I come back to you. you: si... simon: GTG ✋ simon: Will text you when I touch down.

Kyle's, however, were a lot less vulnerable. They were sweet, sudden, driven by happiness and amusement...

Both of them came out of left field and caught you off-guard.

Both of them felt just as real, however.

You took a sip of your warm drink and glanced out of the window again, watching the droplets slide down the glass panes.

You can't help but think about how things have been going for you.

Is this becoming too much? Is it going too far? Did you finally lose the plot?

When did a silly little Tinder account you made with your friends while fighting heartbreak become a 4-way relationship and 2 out 4 men telling you they're in love with you?

You're lost in thought when the door opens behind you, Kyle making his way in.

"Hey, lovie." He greeted, causing you to jump a bit, spilling some of your drink over the glass top of the table.

"Ah, fuck." You complained as you reached for the napkin holder and started mopping up the liquid. "Hi, Ky." You added as you cleaned the mess you made.

"Sorry, did I catch you off guard?" He asked as he approached the table and began to help you.

"Yeah..." You murmured and looked up at him, finally, finding him in a grey sleeveless hoodie and black workout shorts.

You smiled softly at him as you gathered the wet napkins and moved to the kitchen to dispose of them.

Kyle seemed to catch the look in your eyes as you glanced up at him. "What's wrong? You seem strange..." He asked as you followed you into the kitchen.

"Just thinking, it's nothing." You told him as you turned after throwing out the rubbish, only to find him standing right behind you, looking at you with scrunched brows.

"Is this about yesterday?" He asked you softly. "Was it too early?" He added in earnest.

The memories of the day before come back to you sharply. The way, after he told you he loved you, you sputtered for a bit, your face burning up, your eyes wide...

And how you had come back home together, your nose still pink, his cheek still red, the both of you looking embarrassed and sheepish, avoiding eye contact and biting your lip.

How Johnny had teased the two of you, thinking you had gotten down and dirty in the car and that's why you had come home looking so embarrassed...

You look up at him with a sigh and shake your head. "No, it's just..." You trailed off.

"Was it because Soap teased us after we came back?" He reached forward and gently ran a hand over your cheek.

"No!" You added and sighed, leaning into his palm, and gently holding his forearm in your hand.

"I'm just worried... I've never... been in something like this before." You explained, as you looked into his eyes. "More than one partner and-"

Kyle nodded at you, watching you with understanding eyes and a soft gaze, like he wanted you to keep talking, communicating.

"I don't know how to act about this... I don't know..." You trailed off and looked away for a moment. "It's... a strange feeling."

"To love more than one person at once?" He asked you as his brows raised in inquiry.

You nodded in response and looked up at him. "Yeah... And to... have them love me back."

"So I wasn't the first to tell you, huh?" Kyle asked, having caught the way you mentioned 'more than one person' when it came to 'loving you back'.

Your face burned up hot in embarrassment and you shook your head at him.

"Simon was." You replied, which made Kyle's eyes widen and then a smile take over his lips as he shook his head.

"Wasn't expecting that..." Kyle admitted as he caressed your cheek again.

"Did you say it back for him? Like you did for me?" He asked and you nodded your head in reply.

"Well..." Kyle trailed off, seemingly lost in thought for a moment, as if pondering what to say, and how to say it. "It's not exactly a bad feeling, is it?"

You shook your head. It wasn't a bad feeling. In fact, you quite liked having said the words, having had the words said to you.

"Then, I'd say there's not a big cause for worry. We all knew this would happen, right?" He added. You, once again, nodded at him.

Gently, he cupped your face with both hands, his thumbs rubbing your cheeks. "Then, let's just... let it be." He chuckled.

"You and I love each other. You and Simon love each other. I love Simon too..." He admitted with a shrug. "No harm done, right?"

Smiling a bit more, you ended up nodding and gently pushed up, kissing him slowly and deeply, both of your eyes closing, his hands caressing your face, your hands caressing his forearms...

You're so into the kiss, you don't hear the front door close, nor Johnny approach, until he shows up at the kitchen door. "Greedy bastard, leave some space for the Tav, will ye?"

taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!):

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@tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva ,

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@blckbrrybasket , @agoodmoviekiss

#ikea writes 💚 #it's a match! fic #cod modern warfare #cod fanfic #captain john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #text story #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #141 x reader #gaz x reader #ghost x reader

[kooberist]

. . . . ⋆.˚ when i see you cry it makes me smile~ ♪ 𔓘

nerd!jungkook x crush!reader

non con, sadistic jk, crying, mentally ill jk? jimin being the devil on jks shoulder

His lips purred into a smile so wide that they parted and his eyes squinted, teeth showing. His smile was almost angelic, as if he held a secret that could brighten the darkest of days.

Your face did the opposite. Lips quivering as tears overflowed your waterline and made your eyelashes all soggy and your eyebrows all furrowed.

This was all going on at the same time. Jungkook was smiling because you were crying, something he found inexplicably joyful.

Why? Why did he find joy in your tears?

Jungkook's heart beated for you, and his lungs expanded just for you. He felt euphoric when he saw you, but all of it came to a halt like a cog was missing in a clock.

"Would you like to be friends?" Jungkook studied; he knew he wanted to be more, but this was a baby step in the right direction. A sour expression crept on your face as you heard his question. "no thanks." Your words cut through his heart like he was in a slasher movie, leaving him feeling rejected and hurt, but one more thing consumed him: hate.

Jungkook sat on his best friends' beds as he contemplated how to deal with this new emotion. "You want to fuck her, right?" Jimin asked with a smile. Jungkook shyly nodded, and that's when Jimin said what Jungkook secretly had in the back of his brain. "Then rape her." He stated that it was a simple task. With a little help from his friend, he found a light in the tunnel at the end, and that was revenge. He had no choice.

Browsing through the campus library, trying to scurry as the clock almost reached the closing hour and the dim place slowly got empty, nobody left except you and the young pink-haired person at the desk down on the bottom floor. Fastly looking through the big books in the empty, dark island, a boy in a big black hoodie tapped your shoulder.

"Would you like help?" His voice was soft and calm. You shear your head no and go back to searching and he felt like a genius as his prediction to your reaction was spot on

He tapped your clothed shoulder again, and when you turned around, his hand that was once on your shoulder flew to your neck in a tight grip.

He felt ecstatic as you gasped for air and your face shifted to fear and panic.

"Im sorry." He lifted you off your feet with ease while his free hand undid his belt in a swift motion along with your skirt, and your mind raced, desperately searching for a way to escape his grasp. The room seemed to spin as you struggled to break free, your heart pounding in your chest.

Pants dropping along with his boxers. He groans as he strokes his throbbing cock about twice before sticking it in your wet heat with a soft and quiet moan..

"Ah, fuck," he groans. Was he really losing his virginity to rape right now? He told himself it was your fault in low groans as he thrust in and out. Tears are now streaming down your face, and moans of pain are escaping your mouth loudly. His fat cock thrusting in and out as his legs shook and his forehead met his, and sweat beamed down his forehead. Pre-cum and slick juices mixed together, creating a slippery sensation. The room filled with a mix of desperation and pleasure as he continued to move with increasing intensity.

"help" You cried out in a raspy voice. The intensity of the situation weighed heavily on your mind as you desperately pleaded for help, hoping someone would hear your cries. Each passing moment felt like an eternity as you struggled to comprehend how this could be happening to you.

"Sorry," he said in repeated whispers, but when you started to ugly cry, his guilt flew right down to his dick, making him on the brink of orgasm. His legs are shaking due to the sound of your moan-ish cries.

The knot breaks the rope in your stomach as you cum all over his cock in an extremely loud cry. The sweet music in Jungkook's ears echos through the big library, and you grow limp in his hand. His hips speed up at an inhumane pace, and his cum fills up your womb as his eyes shutter and his hand lets go of your neck, causing your energy-less body to fall to the rough carpeted floor of the isle full of books.

His lips purred into a smile so wide that they parted and his eyes squinted, teeth showing. His smile was almost angelic, as if he held a secret that could brighten the darkest of days.

Your face did the opposite. Lips quivering as tears overflowed your waterline and made your eyelashes all soggy and your eyebrows all furrowed. Sitting in the chair of an office and trauma comes back as you retell the traumatic memory. Jungkook innocently smiles as he knows you are just crying at the memory of what he did while he peeks through the glass window of the dim office.

Maybe you will think twice about being an asshole next time.

©kooberist 2024

#(୨୧ ❛ᴗ❛)✧ #𓆩♡𓆪 #bts smut #bts #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook #smut #dead dove do not eat #dead dove fic #fyp #bts jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook smut #bts dead dove do not eat #bts x fem!reader #bts x reader #bts x y/n #jimin smut #jhope smut #rm smut #tae smut

[ponderingmoonlight]

Hi! I just love your levi fics so much!

For a request I was hoping for something like this -

Levi & reader had grown up together along with Isabel and farlan, when the group gets sent off onto their fateful mission levi thinks reader died alongside with Isabel and farlan. (Angst)

Only to discover years later that reader was alive and actually doing very well for themselves, well known and a strong fighter. Just a very cute reunion fic maybe? Maybe romance 👀 thanks! <3

🦅- Anon

this was an emotional rollercoaster I'm still crying babe but here you go, I hope you enjoy it as much as I do <3

Levi thinking he lost his sun forever only to find you again after years

Pairing: Levi x fem! reader

Word Count: 3,3k

Synopsis: It's been 1869 days since you were killed by the abnormal titan Isabel and Farlan lost their lives to as well, 1869 days of missing you and regretting that Levi didn't tell you about his true feelings when you were still alive. Little does he know you aren't so easy to get rid of and that you are still out there...

Warnings: death, blood, war scene, depression, full on hurt to comfort, super duper fluff in the end, as usual not proofread because I need to go to bed now hehe

Notes: Finally my first Levi fic after literally MONTHS! I know a lot of you were patiently waiting for more attack on titan content and I'm beyond sorry it took me so long babes. Please let me know how you feel about Attack on Titan content so that I might do more and especially regular fics in the future <3

He can’t take his eyes off you. To be exact, the sunlight suits your facial features so well that it seems impossible to ever let go of your sight.

You have been friends since he met you on that day exactly 6 years ago, when you tried to steal a load of food for a heavy pregnant woman. Since then, he was captivated by your beauty, your brain, your skills. But somehow, this makes the stinging fact that you sit beside him even worse.

“You shouldn’t be here, (y/n)”, he speaks out before he’s able to stop himself.

Immediately, your gaze drifts away from the dreamy scenery to him, eyes widen in surprise.

“What are you talking about, Levi?”

Don’t say his name while looking at him like that, not with that gentle tone in your angelic voice. He told himself over and over that you are nothing but a close friend, maybe considered family like Isabel and Farlan.

He huffs to himself. What a filthy little lie.

“This mission is dangerous. I don’t want you to get-“

“Hurt? Killed? You told me about all those things more than once and I’m happy to repeat myself again for you: I will not leave you, Farlan’s and Isabel’s side. After all, we are friends, right? And friends don’t leave each other behind.”

You gift him with your usual breath-taking smile while his heart skips a beat.

A friend.

He has to remind himself over and over again, force his orbs away from you. You are nothing but friends. And he will never risk to lose you over the potential of something more.

-the evening before the mission-

“I thought I’d find you here”, your teasing voice shouts from behind.

You are probably the last thing he wants to see this evening. Not because he doesn’t enjoy your company, but because he wasn’t able to convince you to stay in safety. Erwin Smith made it very clear that this mission is dangerous, that multiple survey corps member already died behind those walls. And even though you, Farlan and Isabel showed your skills countless times before, he can’t stop his train of thought. You, getting grabbed by a titan. You, getting ripped apart, your blood scattering onto the ground. He won’t have the chance to stay by your side during all times. One wrong movement, one thoughtless decision and you’d be gone.

“I don’t even have to ask in order to know what you’re thinking about right now, Levi.”

The second your hand brushes over his shoulder, he is too lost in the feeling of your bare hand against his shirt to worry any further.

“You don’t have to worry about Farlan, Isabel and me. After all, you’re the one who taught us everything we know.”

“Tsk. You were already doing fine when I met you.”

“But you were the one who showed me there is still hope, something worth fighting for. If it wasn’t for you, I would have died down there without ever seeing the sun once in my life”, you reply.

All of the sudden you place your hand on top of his and squeeze in gently. That look on your face, is it…Affection? He shakes his head firmly, doesn’t allow himself to get lost in that oh so sweet idea. A woman like you will never fall for a cold-hearted man like him, not when the whole squad fell head over heels for you the second they got to know you better. You are a true sweetheart, everyone’s favorite, a ray of sunshine. He, on the other hand, is none of that.

“Stop praising me or else I’ll puke and make a mess onto the freshly cleaned floor.”

No, he doesn’t deserve your kind word, doesn’t even deserve that spark in your eyes. You are better off without him, even as a friend.

“You’ll gonna clean it up anyway”, you bite back with a wide grin.

“Actually, there is something else I want to talk with you about, Levi.”

The sudden change in your voice paired with the warmth of your hand leaving his lets his gaze wander to yours again – only to catch you already staring.

“What is it?”, he questions instantly.

“If you have to decide between Isabel, Farlan and me…Just promise that you’ll safe them before even thinking about my ass. Please look after them and don’t worry about me.”

His eyes widen just the tiniest bit, reveal his surprise and…his resist. Not thinking about you, leaving you behind? The urge to shake you becomes almost unbearable when he grabs your arms passionately, gaze locking with yours.

“There is no way in hell I will ever leave you behind, dumbass. Don’t you dare to die on me, got it?”

“Promise”, you urge.

“Promise you’ll look out for them first.”

“(y/n)…”

He has to close his eyes in order to stop staring at your perfect lips. This might be the last time he ever sees you alive so unbothered by his side, the last time he witnesses the way the dim moonlight lights up your hair.

This…might be your last night alive.

“Please, I can’t live with the thought of being without them. They are still so young.”

“What about you, though? What if I don’t want to live a life without you? What if I die myself?”

You smile at him sadly, your hand caressing his cheek oh so gently.

“We all know you won’t die out there, Levi. It’s us who might not be here with you tomorrow. After all, that’s why you wanted to stop us from coming with you, right?”

He swallows hard. Every single one of you is a skilled fighter. Hell, you even survived the underground with countless enemies chasing after you. But this? This is something completely different. For the first time since getting to know all of you, Levi isn’t so sure about your abilities anymore.

“I promise”, he replies with low voice.

“Thank you”, you breathe out.

“Now, let’s get some sleep, shall we? We have a big fight ahead of us.”

Oh, there is no doubt in the fact that Levi won’t close his eyes this whole cursed night, pondering about a way to safe all of you. But even though you are very aware of that, you turn on your heel and smile at him one last time.

The brightest smile of them all, making your face gleam in nothing but affection.

“Oh, and Levi?”

“What is it, dumbass?”

“When I was talking about the sun earlier…That sun was you.”

And then you’re gone in the dark, leaving him with his heart almost beating out of his chest and feelings clustered all over the place.

Him, your sun?

-the battle-

Your eyes widen in sheer horror, the violent scream escaping your lips not reaching your ringing ears. Those powerful orbs…There is no doubt in the fact that this is her, that this is Isabel. Tears stream down your face uncontrollably, mix with the bitter coat of rain that sticks to your face uncomfortably.

Your friend is dead. And you were not able to protect her.

“You.”

The monster standing in front of you doesn’t look like the other titans you’ve seen before. Eyes red like crimson, lips curved into an evil grin. This thing is absolutely aware of the agony it causes you and enjoys every tear you cry.

You grab your blades even tighter, narrow eyes fixating its nape.

“I will make you suffer”, you press out through gritted teeth.

“I will make you regret that you even touched her!”

You dash forward only to get greeted by thin air. Fuck, this thing is so fast you didn’t even realize it was gone until your blade crashed into the muddy ground. Why do your hands suddenly start shaking, your knees felling weak? It’s just you and that thing. The other corps members around you? Scuttered onto the floor in bloody pieces.

Levi?

You escape its clutches by a hair’s breadth, the monster’s stinging smell of death and rotten flesh making your guts turn. You need to focus, need to control your fear and anger. Otherwise, you’ll die just like all the others did.

Levi…Is he dead as well? There is no one around, no one showed a single reaction to your multiple cries for help, your signs. Maybe you’re the only one who’s left. Which means that Farlan and Levi are gone.

Levi, gone? Fuck, you should have told him about your true feelings yesterday, you should have pressed your lips against his like you always dreamed about. This was the last opportunity to tell him how much you love him before both of you die.

And now it will be forever too late.

Just when you’re about to dash forward, the arm of the titan yanks towards you with breath-taking speed. Your eyes widen in sheer horror as all you can do is stare in sheer disbelief.

Is this how you will die? Through the hand of an abnormal titan, eating you alive?

You always dreamed of a life on the surface with Levi by your side. Maybe a small cottage on the edge of a busy city close to a river. Having a little farm with a few animals here and there, Levi working for a local business while you stay home and care for your home. For a brief moment, you allow your eyes to rest, to get lost in the life you will never have.

If only you had told him sooner. Maybe then it would have been different. Maybe then you wouldn’t feel your bones crack against the sheer force of the titan’s flat palm, throwing you into the air like a ball.

As soon as your body hits the ground, everything goes black.

-5 years later-

He opens his eyes against the way too harsh sunlight. Another night he hasn’t slept more than 2 hours. Day 1869 of missing you.

“Good morning, Captain Levi!”

He doesn’t even care to reply, feet carrying him down the hallway monotone. His days have always been the same since the day he lost Isabel, Farlan and you: Getting haunted in his sleep, waking up alone, surviving another day in this living hell. It’s almost ironic, how he already hated the world when you were in it. Little did he know how much worse it would get when you’re gone.

There is no day since back then that doesn’t revolve around you. You, with your hair down in the sun. You, beating up some tuff guys and showing them their place. You, that fucking cursed night before you had to leave.

Until this day, he hates himself for not being there. By the time he arrived, everyone was dead, brutally murdered by an abnormal titan. And even after searching for your corpse for hours in the pouring rain, he didn’t even manage to find a single limb left of you. This should be a good sign. After all, it might mean that you somehow managed to survive.

“The chances of (y/n) surviving and managing to flee on her own are 1 against 500.000”, Erwin said back then.

Maybe it would have actually felt better, knowing that you’re dead. Maybe this would spare him from getting haunted by your giggling and fucking gorgeous face each and every night.

But…If getting haunted by your presence is all he has left, he shouldn’t complain about it.

“We are heading out today. It is said that there are countless abnormal titans roaming around a city nearby”, Erwin explains briefly.

“How the fuck did these things even manage to get in there?”, Levi grumbles in response while taking a sip of his way too hot tea.

“That’s not what I care about. What I’m more interested in is the fact that a group of villagers managed to trap one of them.”

Levi can’t help but put his cup of tea down while Hange bursts out in sheer excitement next to him. A group of villagers, trapping an abnormal titan?

“Former corps members?”, he questions.

“Apparently not. Maybe they are interested in a new job”, Erwin replies, getting up from his seat and straightening his uniform.

“We are leaving right now.”

“Right now? Over some brats who were lucky to not get eaten by that titan?”

“You can’t deny that these ‘brats’ have to be skilled in order to trap an abnormal titan, Levi.  Also, I heard the head of them is a woman.”

Levi huffs to himself. Skilled, huh? Lucky is definitely the better fit.

You sink your blade straight into the eye of the disgusting creature lying in front of you, watch in sheer satisfaction how it squeals underneath.

“Hope you enjoy that as much as I do”, you mumble, twisting and turning your sword painfully slow.

“(y/n), d-don’t you think that’s enough? What if it escapes?”, the man next to you cries out, holding safe distance between himself and the abnormal.

“So what? Listen, you little shit. If you even try to escape, I will kill you without even blinking, got it?”

You rip your blade out. In, out, in, out until everything around you is covered in crimson.

Just like back then.

You stumble back when a wave of nausea hits you. The sight of Isabel’s lifeless head, her limbs scattered across the muddy floor. Back then, you weren’t able to save her, weren’t even able to save yourself. If it wasn’t for your crew, you’d be dead by now. Just like her…

“Hey.”

“How about you take a break for a sec? You’re drifting off again.”

Her gently voice pulls you out of your nightmare just like her tender touch. Petra has been the greatest support since that fateful day. In fact, the only reason you are still alive is her. When she found you, you were already on the brink of death. Only due to her passionate and long-term care, you learned how to walk again, learned how to fight again.

“Sorry”, you mumble, allowing yourself to rest for a moment against her strong shoulder.

“(y/n), I’m sorry to interrupt you like this but…We spotted members of the survey corps?”

“The survey corps?”, you repeat in sheer disbelief.

Rage starts flooding your veins in an instant, forcing you to pick up your blade again. If there’s one thing you will never forgive the survey corps for, it’s the fact that they left you standing in the rain. The countless people who died with the wings of faith embroidered onto their jackets, eaten alive by a titan while your desperate cries for help remained unanswered until this day. For Erwin Smith, you were nothing but canon fodder, nothing but a bait. And you will forever hate him over the fact that he is partly responsible for the death of Isabel, Farlan and Levi.

You storm in the direction your scout sighted them, jumping from tree to tree in order to catch them by surprise. You will definitely not tolerate survey corps members around your area, especially when you just caught an abnormal titan to study and torture.

“There they are.”

Their disgusting green cloaks fill you with thick anger, almost force you onto the ground to knock every single one of them out. But you know all too well this isn’t the way to go. No, you will wait here until the right time comes to throw yourself at their captain.

There are five of them, walking towards the direction of your village. Just wait a few more seconds until the one who walks ahead is underneath you, one second and you…

You lunge yourself at the person with full speed, forcing them to the ground. Him, to be exact. That firm chest exposes all too urgently that you just attacked a man.

“Are you out of your goddamn mind, brat?”, he barks at you, rough hands grabbing your wrists so tightly that your bones threaten to shatter.

You aren’t able to defend yourself, though.

That voice, the way he called you brat.

Is it really possible that…

You allow your eyes to look up at him and for a moment, time seems to stand still.

“Levi.”

You breathe his name out like a prayer, as if your dream might become reality. These grey and unbothered eyes look just like you remember his, the dark hair framing his face oh so perfectly.

“Levi, is that you?”

He can’t comprehend his feelings. Just a second ago, he was under attack of a stranger. But your eyes aren’t foreign. They hold the spark he dreams of each and every night, the memory he cares about so deeply. Is it really possible, that…

“(y/n).”

Everyone was so sure that you died on the battlefield, that the titan must have eaten you alive without leaving any remains. But maybe there was nothing to remain. Maybe you actually did manage to survive. Is it possible? Is this really you?

“I thought you died.”

Your voice is nothing but a fade away whisper, tears streaming down your usual so composed face like rivers when your memories begin to crash down on you like a house of cards. All those years, you were convinced Levi lost his life on this battlefield as well, that you were the only one remaining. But now you’re sitting on top of him, taking in his clean scent while he glares at you the way he used to.

“Everyone tried to convince me that that fucking abnormal ate you back then, that there is no chance you survived. Now look at you, dumbass”, he breathes out, very own eyes now coated in a thin layer of glimmering tears.

There is no time to waste. With a swift motion, you lunge yourself at him again, wrap your arms around his strong torso as if your life depends on it while resting your head against his chest and crying your heart out.

Words will always fail to express how much you missed him, that you thought about him each and every night since the day he was taken away from you so roughly. But now, you will never let him go again. Now you won’t waste another opportunity to tell him how you really feel.

“I love you, Levi. I loved you since our days in the underground city, I loved you through all these horrible years of grief. I love you. I love you”, you finally blurt out.

“I love you too, (y/n). I always did.”

Gently, he rests his hand against your nape while lifting your chin up with the other.

The second your lips meet, your world feels complete for the first time. All the pain, the grief, the things you had to endure. The countless nights of imagining him right by your side, the thought of never seeing him again. And now he’s here, right in your arms while kissing you so passionately that you fail to breathe.

“I love you”, he repeats so softly that your heart melts away like butter.

“I love you…”

“I finally found my sun again”, you smile against his lips.

You snuggle yourself onto him even tighter, your grip around his torso firm. Oh, you will definitely never let this man go again. Not after it took both of you so many years to meet again, not when he’s all you ever wanted.

Levi Ackerman, the love of your life.  

“Who’s that woman throwing herself at you from a tree and then getting a smooch from you?”

“Shut up, shitty four-eyes”, Levi barks at the person standing behind him.

Tags:

@hellkaiserinphoenix  @chilichopsticks @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld

@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain (hope you noticed I actually named reader's bestie after you babe) @polarbvnny @kentocalls @kayleegomez

First divider by wonderful @cafekitsune - check out the banner I used here!

Second one as usual from the best @saradika-graphics - I worship the ground you walk on honey

#aot #aot x #aot x female reader #aot x reader #aot x you #aot x y/n #aot fanfiction #shingeki no kyojin #aot levi #attack on titan #levi ackerman #levi x #levi x reader #levi x you #levi x y/n #levi fluff #captain levi #attack on titan x you #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan fanfiction #attack on titan levi #levi ack #levi ackerman x female reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman fluff #levi ackerman x reader #attack on titan masterlist #aot fluff #aot hurt to comfort #levi aot

[saturnsorbits]

Android AU where you purchase a discounted and broken Bakugo model.

He’s got limited movement in his right arm, a faulty ocular system and a series of burns that cover one side of his face and have made the middle of his chest all melted and tacky - the synthetic skin warped like scarred flesh, but he works well enough.

It’s nice, having him around. You cook together. Watch movies. Go on picnics. Hike. Dine out. Visit aquariums and museums. It doesn’t take long for people to start assuming…

Husband. Boyfriend. Fiancé. It’s all thrown round. An endearing misunderstanding that never garners more than a blush, or at least it was, until the feelings started.

It’s a growing debate, if the androids can feel like humans can, but you find yourself at his mercy anyway. You fall for him slowly, but definitely, lost to him in all of the ways you’d never thought possible.

You bottle it, lock it in your chest even when it becomes too much taking you in a choke hold and then one day, you just… Burst.

Ducking under the rail of the park, you cross the wood-chips and toss yourself to the curved rubber seat of the swing. Beyond the small park is the ocean - a small slither of wide open blue that crashes against the walls of the sea barrier before you.

This was your place, just your place and now, now you’re sharing it with him.

He sits on your left, pushing himself with the balls of his feet. In the shadow of the street light with his synthetic blonde spikes spilling over his forehead, he almost feels like a lover - like something more than he can be. ‘I like it here.’

‘I know.’ Bakugo turns, smirks. The social module downloaded into his brain makes it look perfect, tells him the exact angle his lips should stretch to for the chosen effect.

‘There’s something about the sea being so close, it’s…’

‘Calming.’

‘Yeah.’ You sigh, glancing over to Bakugo careful not to look too long. ‘It’s calming.’

‘You wanna know why?’

‘Sure.’

‘My search says it’s due to the broad nature of the sound, as it hits your ear...' He taps your tragus. 'It creates a deep tonal noise, which due to its processing ease in the brain creates a soothing effect.'

'Huh.' It’s strange, hearing him talk like this. Usually, he’s so informal, so blunt and matter of fact it’s strange when all of that wiring in his head kicks back in and has him talking like… Well like a robot.

‘Did it again, didn’t I?’

You chuckle. ‘Sometimes you just talk like we’re worlds apart.’

‘Sorry. I -.’

‘No, no…’ You smile, softly, before reaching over and resting your palm on his thigh.

Bakugo blinks, looking down at the hand wrapping his leg. Gingerly, he accepts it. Entwining his fingers with yours, he squeezes. ‘I…’ His voice is a whisper. ‘I don’t want to hurt you.’

‘Katsuki.’

Squeezing softly, Bakugo doesn’t lift his gaze when he talks. 'I don't love you.'

You laugh, the cold air stinging your teeth. ‘I don’t love you.’ It’s a half-truth, the emotion caught in your chest might not yet be love, but it’s too close to it for comfort. ‘You don’t have to love me.’

Bakugo breathes deep despite not needing to. ‘I - I don’t feel -.’

You cut him off, eyes wide, a softeness already burrowing into your expression. You can’t imagine what’s it’s like, to be filled with a thing you were born never to have - to be coming alive for the first time. ‘Katsuki… You do. I know that you’re more than just a robot… More than -‘

‘No.’ Bakugo tightens his grip on your hand, flicking his eyes up to meet yours. ‘I can - I do feel…’ He corrects. ‘I just don’t feel for you what you feel for me.’

#saturnssnippets

[almacambiondaughterofsaleos]

Yep, It's Just Practically Official The Makers Just See Octavia As Manipulative Emotional Tool To Make Stolas Look Good And Disregard Her When She Gets In The Way Of Their Treasured Ship

This is supposed to be a joke, but in execution we all now Octavia at this point is just a tool to make Stolas look like a "good" dad when in practice he's putting Blitzo over her so much that it's not funny. Wasn't one of Octavia's fears is that her father will abandon her in order to pursue Blitzo.

With that comment that Brandon Rogers did it just confirms to me that at this point they are putting Stolitz so much over everything else that yes even Octavia is seen as an obstacle even though a parent's child should be more important than their booty call. And the fandom and the creators prioritize the other way around.

Seriously, in "Seeing Stars" we see him again neglect her when she wanted to keep his promise to see the stars. Also despite saying it's important to find her he slows down to watch his boy toy perform. In other words, he's all false words until next time when he breaks a promise or continues to be a lackluster dad. But we are supposed to give him slack because he's supposed to be trying hard or again invoking Stella in order to make him look good. Boy can barely do the bare minimum for his daughter without messing up and looking like a selfish pos.

And people want to point to this line as a sign of how much he loves Octavia, but again like everything else it's emotional manipulative bs when you realize in practice he has all of the power and could more easily break up. Sure, it would have be a shock to a young child but since Octavia is born he could have just packed up and kicked her ass rather than wallow in his self-pity while finally getting with his imp toy. Stella was made an obstacle from the start so that we would feel less sorry when he was cheating on her with Blitzo. However, it gets less sympathetic when we see how it affects Octavia and it makes him come across as a selfish asshole. At first the first season was condemning them, but nope season 2 basically makes him sad misunderstood woobie who can't do no wrong including ignore his daughter in favor of focusing on Blitzo.

It's funny that Loona isn't joked as an obstacle to Stolitz like Octavia is. It's probably because Octavia grew up with a married family and again doesn't like ramifications that come with the changes. One of them includes the fact that her father only pays attention to his crush while putting her on the backburner. And again despite the fandom saying Octavia and Blitzo would get along this joke panders to the idea that squashes it if Blitzo sees her as an obstacle to their relationship. And you know if it was the other way around Blitzo would be furious anyone would see Looney as an obstacle. And so would Stolas, but we know that in actual practice he would choose prioritizing Blitzo over his daughter and the narrative will say other wise.

#helluva boss #vivziepop critical #helluva boss critical #vivziepop criticism #vivziepop #helluva boss criticism #helluva boss critique #anti-vivziepop #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel #brandon rogers #octavia #pro-octavia #octavia goetia #stolas goetia #anti-stolas #blitzo #stolitz #anti-stolitz #youtube

[mishellii]

♢ᴘᴇᴛ ɴᴀᴍᴇꜱ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ♢

naruto, sasuke, shikamaru, kiba, shino, neji, iruka & kakashi

a/n: sooo,, i SHOUld be working on my uni essays and on the bf!neji texts BUT this had been sitting in my notes app for a while so i decided to post it ;D (the neji texts will come soon i promise). some are longer, some are shorter for which i apologise,,,,,, please ignore typos, i can't spell & enjoy MWUAH

likes & reblogs appreciated <3

warnings: some NSFW parts! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! :) also not proofread as usual

masterlist

♢ɴᴀʀᴜᴛᴏ ᴜᴢᴜᴍᴀᴋɪ♢

✿oh my baby boy

❀first off: angel. 100%.

✿because u are his angel u feel me

❀he can't go a day without telling u

✿then also just the basic baby

❀but mostly when he wants something from u or he's apologising for dumb stuff he's done

✿puppy eyes and all

❀and also during sexy time

✿it's his most used name for u there

✿fight me on this

❀big on his own self made nicknames for u

✿for instance: u fell down the stairs once?

❀"hey, stairs, how you doin'"

✿and just silly ones like: boo, pookie, apple of my eye

❀he's weird like that c'mon we been knew

♢ꜱᴀꜱᴜᴋᴇ ᴜᴄʜɪʜᴀ♢

✿now this guy is a wild card

❀he'd prefer ur name through & through

✿but he'd slip in a casual babe sometimes which makes ur knees weak obviously

❀because he barely ever calls u that

✿if ur married he'd only call you his wife

❀doesn't even let you answer questions on your own sometimes just so he can hit them with

❀"well, MY WIFE, thinks you suck ass, so.."

✿during sex he can be quiet mean 

❀I DONT THINK in the derogatory way but more in a teasing way

✿"c'mon, sweetheart, look at me."

❀when ur just about to black out??

✿but like i said 

❀not big on pet names but he'll use them more often if he knows u enjoy it <3

♢ꜱʜɪᴋᴀᴍᴀʀᴜ ɴᴀʀᴀ♢

✿pretty

❀just pretty bro.

✿not ALL THE TIME, especially not in public as i don't think he's big on PDA

❀but in the comfort of ur own 4 walls? definitely

✿now don't HATE ME for this but,,,

❀woman. and brat.

✿but only in petty situations, like when ur scolding his lazy ass and he hits u with a "go easy on me, woman, i just woke up."

❀or u've been going on his nerves while he's working

✿,,i'm busy, brat.''

❀in bed tho???

✿love or doll

❀i'm almost CERTAIN.

✿like,, can u imagine?? in his dumb fucking charming voice ???

❀PFFF i'm on my knees 

♢ᴋɪʙᴀ ɪɴᴜᴢᴜᴋᴀ♢

✿now this fucker

❀teasing names through & through

✿ur shorter than him? 

❀"hey, shortie, need help?"

✿ur taller than him?

❀"hey, giant, how's the weather up there?"

✿he's a DICK ok (affectionately ofc)

❀but he can be sweet too i promise

✿he's having fun with calling u bunny during sex or simply baby 

❀also ???? "okay, boss." when he's been annoying u all day and u finally snap at him?

✿he's a menace with nicknames i'm telling u

♢ꜱʜɪɴᴏ ᴀʙᴜʀᴀᴍᴇ♢

✿you probably guessed it and bully me if you'd like but,,,

❀bug or lovebug

✿come oooon he loves his bugs AND he loves you?? it fits PERFECTLY

❀not one to do it infront of other people either but in your private space he just wouldn't stop calling you one of these

✿i also see him using the regular honey but the abbreviation so hun because it's short and sweet and he doesn't like those long ass names

❀apologies if ur name is long LMAO mine is too tho

✿takes the hun into the bedroom but prefers a gentle love while having sex

❀shino's not a sweet talker in my mind, but the pet names make up for it FOSHOU

✿ALSO big brain idea i just had:

❀i think shino can't fully express his emotions verbally so before going on missions he definitely writes u letters and that's where he's blooming

✿''u keep me going everyday, sunshine.''

❀and it doesn't even matter if you have a bubbly personality or not

✿UGH lovesick fr

♢ɴᴇᴊɪ ʜʏᴜɢᴀ♢

❀this pretty princess doesn't even know ur name when ur alone with him 

✿ESPECIALLY when ur texting

❀sweetheart, love & darling

✿he'd make u fall in love over again whenever he calls u one of those i'm just saying

❀because he's always so sincere when he's talking to u it drives me crazy just thinking about it 

✿during sexy time too, he would NEVER

❀& i will die on this hill 

✿NEVER use any degrading names for u

❀ur his baby don't make him do that

✿even when ur fighting, he'd always address u in such a kind way i'm actually going insane

❀"have you had dinner yet, dear?"

✿ sedate me pls

♢ɪʀᴜᴋᴀ ᴜᴍɪɴᴏ♢

✿AAA this guy

❀soo,, like father like son,,, angel

✿u can't change my mind

❀being the kind hearted person he is, it just fits u can't tell me off

✿but i will also say he'd use some funny ones in private because we all know he's just a silly lil guy deep inside

❀i'm thinking toots & peach

✿especially when greeting u !! like ''ey, toots, how's it going?''

❀during sex he will be quiet awkward at the start of ur relationship, settling in angel as he's most familiar with it at first

✿but after some time he'd pull a babydoll or gorgeous on u

❀i mean,,, i'd cry but idk about y'all

✿oVERALL he loves using pet names and wouldn't be opossed to u calling him some sweet ones as well <3

❀call him handsome and he'll go through the roof

♢ᴋᴀᴋᴀꜱʜɪ ʜᴀᴛᴀᴋᴇ♢

✿AHEM

❀so this man,,

✿at the start of ur relationship he's such a shy lil bean so he'll only use your first name

❀but once he's been with you long enough he gets so so comfortable

✿starts of with the regular baby because u are his baby aight.

❀his most frequently used one too i'd say

✿but then he'd go like 

❀"hey, beautiful." "y'alright, sweetheart?"

✿and idk about u but i'd faint

❀HE KNOWS ABOUT HIS AFFECT ON U TOO

✿uses it against u during sex SO OFTEN

❀grunting a "there y'go, darling." into your ear with a sly smirk on his lips 

✿i'm (s)creaming

❀but he's a very private person so don't expect too much of that in public !!

✿a side from a "yes, ma'am" when u tell him not to die on a mission <3

a/n: i hope this doesn't SUCK ahemm,,, and i'll see you beans next time bye bye x

devider by @enchanthings

#naruto x reader #naruto headcanons #naruto uzumaki x reader #sasuke x reader #sasuke uchiha x reader #sasuke headcanons #sasuke uchiha #sasuke #shikamaru #shikamaru nara #shikamaru x reader #shikamaru nara x reader #kiba x reader #kiba inuzuka x reader #kiba #kiba inuzuka #shino x reader #shino aburame x reader #shino #shino aburame #neji x reader #neji hyuga x reader #neji #neji hyuga #iruka #iruka umino #iruka x reader #iruka umino x reader #kakashi #kakashi hatake

[tomieafterdark]

Catboy Eren drabble

cw: afab!reader, dom!eren, 18+ dni if u are a minor

I am gonna be honest, this is so unserious I don't know what possessed me to actually write it and hit poster prob should have stayed in the drafts. Anyways, it is inspired by the same person that inspired this fic because he has a catlike aura.

not proofread also click here for more content

You always thought Eren had this "grumpy cat" aura to him, and you never stopped reminding him about it. In fact, you had tried to make him say "meow" or use a catboy image as his profile picture several times, but all you were met with was him ignoring it or telling you it will never happen.

Everything he said seemed to go in one ear and out of the other, because one day when hanging out with him you decided it would be a good idea to bring cat ears and try to put them on him.

And you did. Eventually.

As if his death glare had not been enough, you just had to blurt out that he looks like a submissive catboy. 

And that is how you ended up in this lovely situation.

"E-eren slow down!" You whined.

"Shut the fuck up." he hissed in irritation, pushing your head further down into the pillow. 

Tears rolled down your cheeks as Eren was stretching you open more and more with every thrust, as if the position he had you in wasn’t painful enough he went in with almost no prep. Adjusting to his size was quite the challenge.

He loved watching your hole swallow his cock whole, but what he loved even more was the way you reacted to how deep he went inside of you. He could tell that none of your previous sexual partners had ever touched your cervix with their tip, nor had they stretched you so good that it feels like your first time all over again. 

He kept his eyes locked on you as he fastened his pace. Your whimpering grew louder and clearer even though your face was buried in the pillow, your cries were actual music to his ears. He needed to hear them more clearly. 

He suddenly slips it out, you are too fucked out to notice it at first, still arching. But next thing you know he is sitting next to you on the bed and leaning against the headboard. 

“Get up y/n, I want you on top.” He commands coldly, his intimidating gaze not leaving you for a second.

You get up slowly, feeling a mix of pain and pleasure between your legs. You suddenly notice he forgot to take off the cat ears you had put on him earlier, it is very hard to not giggle but you manage to somehow muster up enough self control to keep quiet. You slowly move over to him, it is impossible to not stare at his face because of the cat ears. He looks so good with them on, and surprisingly not submissive. However the “grumpy cat” energy remains, and he looks even more annoyed now because you are taking way too long getting on top of him. Somehow he comes to the conclusion that you are being nervous because of his size but you are just in awe of how good he looks with cat ears on, you haven’t even glanced at his dick yet. 

“Y/n, if you are scared of the size just say that. I can assist.” He mutters, seeming less annoyed and almost concerned now. 

“Huh?” You look at him in confusion, but the dots soon connect. You are about to protest, but the way he suddenly became all attentive and kind of careful made you feel some type of way and you don't mind this going on for a bit longer. 

He starts fingering you and the sudden intrusion makes you hiss but he quickly shuts you up with a kiss. You manage to take a quick glance at his cock amidst all the kissing and moaning and you feel the knot in your stomach. It is a strange mix of fear, excitement and doom. How would all that fit inside you? 

All the mixed emotions and his skilled fingers bring you closer and closer to climax, he is aware of it by the way you are squeezing around his fingers and moaning louder and louder into the kiss. He stops right before you cum, you feel so close and you are so desperate that without even thinking, you quickly bring your left hand between your legs. 

“Not so fast.” Your wrist is suddenly burning from the iron grip he has on it and the more you pull away the harder he grips. You whine and pout in frustration, not even looking at him directly and still looking for a way to reach your high. You are really starting to lose patience. 

He grabs your lower face, making you look up at him. “If you want to cum, you will do it on my cock. Got it?” His stern voice and cold stare anchor you back to reality, and all you can do is nod. 

He doesn't waste another second, grabbing you by the waist making you straddle him. You instinctively hold on to him, and he does the same to you, just he does it for a completely different reason. You held on to his shoulders because a part of you feels safe around him, while he grabbed your hips out of impatience and to teach you a lesson for putting cat ears on him. 

You try to wriggle yourself out of his tight grip a bit, usually when you are on top like this you are the one controlling the pace and taking on a more dominant role but this is nothing like that. Instead, he slowly lowers you down on it and you gasp hard even though only the tip is in. 

Truth be told, he is resisting the urge to slam you down on it and teach you a very hard lesson, but ever since he noticed you have not had anyone his size before he has been taking his time with you. No, not because he cares, he just thinks your reactions are hilarious. You went from “annoying and cocky asking him to meow for you” to “crying little mess that does not know what to do with herself every time he thrusts” very quickly.  

He watches you intensely, you avoid looking into his eyes, it makes you feel like prey and as if his darkness is about to eat you alive even though he still has the cat ears on. The more he lowers you down on his cock, the more you are starting to believe you will feel it in your guts. He lowers you down very slowly and it gives a whole new meaning to “feeling every inch of him”. 

Your mind is going a bit blank, all you can repeat is “it is so big” and “I feel so full” inside your head. On the outside you are just biting your cheek trying to not burst out in tears like you did earlier. It feels different when your face is not in the pillow, hiding from his cold sharp gaze. This has you feeling new depths of submissiveness and being vulnerable. Though he can kind of notice you are trying your hardest to keep it cool but that is nothing but a challenge to him. This makes him want to break you more. 

You let out a yelp, because he suddenly slams you down on it with no warning and does not stop thrusting even for a second. You are not looking at him directly but you can tell he is smirking at the way you are struggling to keep it together. 

“You were doing a good job trying to keep it together, but you have to try harder to fool me.” He whispers into your ear as one of his hands starts to caress hair. The contrast of his soft demeanor while caressing your hair and his rough thrusts that have your legs almost shaking has your mind going hazy. “I will break you either way, you might as well give in to make this easier for yourself..” he continues in his dark husky voice as his hand leaves your hair now, traveling further down caressing your clit instead. 

It does not take a lot of movement to make you come undone. All that pent up energy from earlier was just waiting to be released, hanging on by a thread. The higher you feel the lower you will come down, and right now you are not just seeing stars you are seeing other galaxies. He grins as he watches you come. Your beautiful eyes are finally letting those tears out, and this time he can look into them since there is no pillow to shove your head in. 

You feel so drained from that one orgasm, you end up just laying down for what feels like several long minutes. This low really matched the high. 

Suddenly he climbs on top of you, his eyes even more dark and playful now. Before you can even react he, flips you on your stomach.

“Wha-” you blurt out. 

“Who said I was done teaching you a lesson? I was going easy on you earlier..” He snickered as he spreads your cheeks apart. 

 © 2024 tomieafterdark | All rights reserved

#eren smut #eren jaeger smut #aot smut #attack on titan smut #eren x reader #eren x y/n #eren yeager smut #eren yeager x reader #eren yeager x you #smut #drabble #female reader

[sunlighthroughthe-ashes]

wow, this episode was wild from start to finish — the makgeolli scene was ludicrous, sol's elder brother is annoying, and HOW DARE they end it on such a cliffhanger!!!

that said, i LOVED the parallels of sol switching the fan on for sunjae while he was sleeping just like he did for her in previous episodes (it was such a lovely, subtle bit of cuteness) — him unconsciously covering her hand with his own was an added bonus.

that boy is aware of her EVEN IN HIS SLEEP.

i think it's a testament to byeon woo-seok's acting that he's able to communicate the tenderness of his feelings for sol so well with just his eyes — i keep mentioning this, but there's a literal reverence in his gaze when he looks at sol that's simply uncanny. his whole face just softens when he looks at her!!!

kim hye-yoon matches this well with the way her face lights up when she's watching sun-jae — her smile is pure RADIANCE when she's looking at him.

there's such genuine respect and adoration in her expression that it just warms my heart.

sunjae confessing his feelings all in a rush was such a bittersweet experience for me — first love is often so sweet but also overpowering and bewildering — you can see from the beginning of the story how helpless sunjae is in the wake of his emotions for sol.

he put her into music and made her memory eternal!

having said that, i was NOT a fan of the way sol rejected sunjae at the hospital. i understand her reasons (since she's uncertain over her fate after the day of her accident / her having to return to the future) but she didn't have to be that harsh.

the poor boy even said "don't be so cold" 🥺

and the fact that she realized she was his first love and the song was about her — only to get kidnapped right after: EVIL move on the writers' part.

i think she'll manage to get out of this without getting paralyzed again (maybe with sunjae's help) — that's why the promo showed her walking in the future.

i know a little about the webtoon, so i'm pretty sure sunjae DOES remember her, he's just behaving coldly because she rejected him / or because after the accident past!sol returned and didn't remember him and he distanced himself ever since then.

either of those reasons would also explain his refusing not to do the movie that sol's presumably directing.

as far as sol trying to stop him from coming to the bridge — she probably realized something to do with his death. it might be related to her (and the taxi-driver) so she's trying to stop sunjae from meeting her and putting everything into motion again.

i think the first time she went into the past, it was to remember sunjae, the second was to prevent her accident, and the third will be her finally stopping sunjae's death.

hate to say it, but i think sol will have to go through sunjae dying again before she goes back into the past for the third and final time (probably when they're in university) and saves him at last.

she better save him and make sure they have a happy ending, otherwise this viewer is going to become a LOVELY HATER. XD

NOW HOW WILL I SURVIVE UNTIL NEXT MONDAY??? 😭

#lovely runner #tvn lovely runner #byeon woo seok #kim hye yoon #tvn drama #tvn #kdrama #kdrama lover #rom com kdrama #fantasy kdrama

[impishtubist]

seed moon fest snippets

Sometimes you just have to admit defeat and say that a story simply isn't going to be finished 😂 Anyway, here's my attempt at knocking Remus up for my own informal fest. It's nearly 3K words of unedited nonsense and unfinished scenes that was supposed to be a much longer fic that spanned all of OOTP.

Someone else with more brain cells than me should definitely knock Remus up during OOTP properly, as he deserves. Until then, enjoy this fragmented chaos:

---

September 1995

“We need to talk,” Remus says as he unwinds his scarf. 

“The last time you said that to me, you wanted a divorce.” Sirius helps him out of his cloak and hangs it on the rack. 

The corner of Remus’s mouth quirks. “Can’t exactly divorce you twice, can I?”

“I suppose not.” Sirius examines him. “You look a bit peaky.” 

“Yes, that’s what--”

“Lupin! Black!” Kingsley’s voice carries up the stairs. “Order meeting!” 

Sirius sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Duty calls. You can divorce me again after the meeting.”

***

Dumbledore hands out assignments at the end of the meeting--guard duty for everyone except Sirius and Remus, as usual. Sirius is ordered to stay in the house, and Remus is assigned to another werewolf pack, this time in Poland. 

“No,” Remus says, and the whole room goes silent.

“Remus,” Dumbledore says after a moment, “you are the only member of the Order who is able to infiltrate the packs, and need I remind you of the importance of--”

“Yes, I’m aware of the importance of my missions,” Remus says dryly. “Given how successful they were in the first war, I understand why you want me to repeat them. The answer is still no. I will not be infiltrating any wolf packs for the foreseeable future, and Severus, I will no longer require Wolfsbane from you.” 

“Remus,” Sirius protests, “you can’t--” 

“I can,” Remus says forcefully. 

“But this is your health we’re talking about!” 

“Lupin’s no use to us if he won’t perform his missions as instructed,” Snape says. “Of course I’ll no longer be providing Wolfsbane to someone who refuses to make a contribution to the cause.”

“I don’t understand why,” Molly begins.

“Neither do I,” Sirius says. 

“Remus, if you could enlighten us--”

“Sonorus!” Remus shouts, pointing his wand at his stomach. 

A steady thud thud thud fills the room, and it takes Sirius several seconds to realize that the heartbeat isn’t Remus’s. 

“Oh, Merlin,” he breathes as eyes widen around the table. 

A flurry of emotions flash across Dumbledore’s face--anger, disappointment, resignation. He settles on grim. “You intend to keep the baby, then, Mr. Lupin?”

Remus flinches slightly, but he holds Dumbledore’s gaze. “Yes.” 

“Very well. Your services are indeed no longer required, and Severus will no longer provide you with Wolfsbane for the moon.”

“You can’t fucking do that!” Sirius shouts at Dumbledore. “Just because he’s physically unable to be your puppet-”

“It’s poisonous to the baby,” Remus says quietly, and Sirius’s mouth snaps shut. “Wolfsbane, I mean. I can’t take it while I’m--while I’m pregnant.” 

***

Dumbledore ends the meeting after that. Thankfully sensing that Sirius and Remus have a lot to talk about, the rest of the members file out of the kitchen quickly, leaving them alone. 

“So,” Sirius says after a moment. “Is it, er--”

“Yes, Sirius,” Remus says tiredly. “It’s yours.” 

“Oh, good,” Sirius says, and then quickly adds, “Not that it would have been a problem if it wasn’t! Obviously, you were allowed to have a life these past thirteen years, and--” 

Remus kisses him. “Shut up.” 

“So, er, in June…”

“Yes. We could blame it on Dumbledore, really. He’s the one who sent you to me after the Task.” 

“Oh, Merlin.” Sirius passes a hand over his eyes, shaking with silent laughter. “That would go over well, after tonight.” 

Remus smiles briefly, but it quickly drops from his face. “I didn't mean to break the news like this, and I know I made the decision without even speaking to you, but--”

“Remus,” Sirius says, “it’s fine, really. I mean, Merlin, a baby. Of course I wasn’t expecting it, but I think it’s great.”

“Do you?”

“Yes. I mean, it’s also insane. I’m still a convict who isn’t allowed to leave the most heavily-warded house in Britain, which also happens to be the headquarters for a secret organization fighting the darkest wizard of our time, and you’re a werewolf living through an era of unprecedented anti-lycanthropic legislation. This is madness, and yet, I’m thrilled.”

Remus bites his lip. “Can we do this?”

“Yes.” Sirius reaches for his hand. “We can do this. I used Crookshanks to access my vaults last year, and I can do it again. We won’t hurt for gold. This is the safest house in Britain, so you’ll move in here permanently. We’ll have nine months to make it, er, baby-proof, but yes we can do this. We will do this.”

“Six months.”

“What?”

“I’m twelve weeks along, so we have roughly six months to get everything ready, although the baby might decide to make an early appearance.” 

Sirius grins. “Six months it is. I like a challenge.”

“You’re taking this rather well.” 

Sirius shrugs. “Always wanted to have a baby with you.” 

“What?”

“If we raise the baby here, we’re taking Harry in as well,” Sirius goes on, as if he hadn’t just said something earth-shattering. “I’m not going to send him to his relatives for another summer, and then raise another child simply because they’re my blood.”

“I agree,” Remus says. “But you--want this? You’ve wanted this?” 

“Wouldn’t have gone about it like this, but yeah.” Sirius’s lips quirk. “Next time, we’ll do it after I clear my name and we’re living somewhere that isn’t a house full of dark objects.”

“What do you mean, next time?”

***

“Sirius, where’s Kreacher?”

“Hogwarts,” Sirius says, and Remus blinks at him. 

“Hogwarts?”

“I’m not having him in this house once the baby arrives.” Sirius resumes his scrubbing, though perhaps with more force than is called for. “I grew up with that elf, and I won’t have the baby do the same. I won’t put them through that.” 

“Oh, Sirius.”

“And I wasn’t going to behead him like my dear old mother would have, so sending him to work in the kitchens at Hogwarts seemed like the best solution.” 

“That was kind of you.”

***

“Well?” Remus asks, holding out his arms. “What do you think?”

Sirius circles him, examining the outfit.

“It’ll do,” he finally declares.

“It’ll do? I should hope so! This one alone costs more than I made in a year at Hogwarts.” Sirius had insisted on buying him a whole new wardrobe as soon as Remus started having difficulty fitting into his usual clothes. He’ll have to buy Remus new clothes every few weeks now as Remus increases in size, and doesn’t seem to see an issue with that.

***

December 1995

“Remus is still staying here,” Sirius says, “and, er, there’s something you should know before you see him.” 

Fred and George give him twin glares that could kill, and Sirius can’t blame them--their father might be dying, might be dead already, and Sirius wants to talk about one of their former professors? But Harry looks inquisitive, so Sirius plunges on. “He’s going to look a bit different when you see him. He’s, er, pregnant, and he's pretty far along."

“Pregnant!” Ron blurts, while everyone else stares at Sirius in shock.

“You’re the other father, then,” Ginny says, and she doesn’t sound surprised at all.

“Are you?” Harry demands.

“I am,” Sirius says. “It…wasn’t planned, to say the least.” 

Remus comes into the basement kitchen as Molly and Sirius are in the middle of making breakfast, and he does a double-take at the number of people who have appeared in the house overnight. 

“Fill Remus in, Harry, won’t you?” Sirius asks over his shoulder as he prods at the bacon. 

He listens as Harry recounts the events of the previous night. At the end, Harry adds, “And Sirius told us about the baby, so, er, congratulations, Professor.” 

“Thank you, Harry.”

“Do you know if it’s a boy or girl, Professor?” Ginny asks. 

“No, we want it to be a surprise.”

Now that Arthur’s out of danger, his children are more than happy to pepper Remus with questions about the baby. He patiently answers all of them while they eat breakfast, and even lets Ginny feel the baby kick when she asks. They’re always more active after a meal.

After breakfast, the kids go off to nap, except for Harry, who lingers in the kitchen with Sirius and Remus.

“Where’s the baby going to stay after they’re born?”

“Here, with us,” Sirius says. “Remus has already moved in, and we’re turning one of the guest bedrooms into a nursery.” 

Harry nods. “I’m really happy for you.” 

“Harry,” Remus says gently. “There’s a place for you here, too.” 

“Oh, I didn’t mean--”

“I know you didn’t, but we want you to know that.” 

“I don’t have to go back to the Dursleys?”

“Dumbledore will want you to, and he’ll probably try to force you to go,” Sirius says. “If I have to kidnap you from Kings Cross myself, I will. We’re not letting you go back.” 

“As long as that’s alright with you, of course,” Remus says. “It won’t be easy, living with a newborn.” 

“Anything is better than the Dursleys,” Harry says fervently, and then he throws himself into Sirius’s arms. “Thank you.” 

***

Pregnancy seems to calm the wolf, a side effect Remus hadn’t been expecting. He still prefers moons where he can take Wolfsbane, but at least these transformations aren’t traumatic without it. He still sometimes dislocates a joint or breaks a bone during the transformation itself, but Sirius tells him that while he’s the wolf, all he does is nest and sleep. 

Moony has decided that the Black family library is the perfect place to build his nest, and he spends each moon gathering items from around the house and dragging them to the library. So far, he’s confiscated all the couch cushions, every blanket that had been moldering in a wardrobe, and three of Sirius’s cloaks.

***

Remus’s labor begins on a sunny Tuesday shortly after lunch, and he stays in early labor well into the night. He’s able to go about his day mostly as normal, despite the increasing discomfort.

That changes in the early hours of the morning, when he grips Sirius’s arm hard enough to bruise and grits out, “Get Molly.” 

Their birth plan isn’t much of one--they’ve been relying on Sirius’s years-old Healer training and whatever books they can lay their hands on. They can’t risk telling anyone about the baby who wasn’t at that initial Order meeting, not even Poppy. Molly has helped two wix friends through their own pregnancies, so she’s the closest thing to an obstetrician that they have. 

She helps keep Remus comfortable, checks to see how dilated he is, and coaches him on when to push. She makes sure Sirius is actively involved as well, and he’s the one to catch their son as Remus pushes him into the world. 

“Oh, fuck,” Remus wheezes as Sirius cradles the infant in his hands, tears coursing down his cheeks. “Oh, fuck, I am never doing that again.” 

The baby starts to wail in earnest, and Sirius laughs, giddy and relieved and so fucking terrified. Molly helps Remus with the after birth, and then Sirius lays the baby on his chest. 

“Still think he’s a Teddy?” Sirius asks softly while Remus cuddles the baby close. He presses his nose to the top of the baby’s head and breathes. 

“Yes,” Remus says finally. “He’s definitely a Teddy.” 

***

Harry knocks on McGonagall’s office door precisely at eight, and it swings open immediately.

“Mr. Potter, come in,” she says. “Have a seat.”

He sits in front of her desk, wondering what task she’ll assign him for detention tonight. Scrubbing all the toilets on the fifth floor with a toothbrush, probably. At least it won’t be lines with a blood quill, he thinks as he massages his hand absently. 

“I have a message for you,” McGonagall says.

“Right,” Harry says, blinking at her. A message? He’s here for detention. 

“Edward John Lupin-Black was born at five-thirty this morning. Professor Lupin is doing well, and your godfather is beside himself with happiness.” 

“Oh.” Harry blinks, absorbing this. “Remus had the baby?”

“He did,” McGonagall says, and there’s a ghost of a smile on her lips. “I’m sorry for the ruse, but serving you a detention seemed the best way to get this message to you. I was summoned to Headquarters for a meeting this afternoon, which is how I learned about the baby. Mr. Black also wanted me to convey to you that he’s looking forward to seeing you this summer, and that he loves you.” 

***

June 1996

The kitchen door bursts open and Sirius hurries in, his wand in one hand. He has a crying bundle in the crook of his other arm, and for a moment all the thoughts flee Harry’s brain.

“Harry? What’s going on, what’s wrong?”

“Teddy?” Harry blurts.

Sirius holsters his wand and kneels before the fire, adjusting the baby in his arms. For a moment, the sight of Harry’s floating head distracts the baby, and he stops his wailing. 

“Where are you Flooing from?”

“McGonagall’s office,” Harry says, jolted back to reality by the question. “Sirius, I thought--I saw--you were being tortured! Voldemort kidnapped you, and he was holding you somewhere, and--”

“Harry, breathe,” Sirius said. “It must have been another vision. I’m safe; we all are.” 

“My other visions have been real,” Harry says--hesitantly, because he wants to believe this is Sirius in front of him. “Mr. Weasley did get attacked, and that old man really did die.”

“I know,” Sirius says, “but we already know that Voldemort can get into your mind, and that Snape never completed your Legilimancy lessons. That means that Voldemort can plant visions in your head, ones that aren’t real and never happened.”

“Sirius?” Remus comes into the kitchen, knuckling sleep out of his eyes. He freezes when he sees Harry’s head in the fire. “What’s going on? Harry, are you alright?”

Harry explains the night’s events as quickly as he can. He doesn’t know how much longer he has before he’s discovered. 

“You should come through, Harry,” Remus says when he finishes. “If Voldemort is giving you visions at Hogwarts, you clearly aren’t safe there and there’s no point in you staying.” 

“But what if this isn’t real?” Harry demands. “What if this is the vision?”

“Voldemort doesn’t know about Teddy,” Remus says. “Unless you think Professor McGonagall is a spy, then we’re the only ones who know about the baby. This can’t be a vision that Voldemort has planted in your head, because you know details he doesn’t. This is real, Harry.”

Remus has a point, and none of his visions have ever been this vivid. Harry ducks back into McGonagall’s office for another handful of Floo powder, and then steps fully into the fireplace. 

“Hi,” Harry says, and he barely has the word out before Sirius engulfs him in a hug.

“Hi, Haz,” he says into Harry’s hair. “I’m so glad you’re alright. I’m sorry you were so worried.”

“It’s not your fault.” Harry pulls away. “Can I--”

“Of course.” Remus adjusts the bundle in his arms so Harry can see the baby. “Meet Teddy. Teddy, this is Harry. He’s going to be living here with us, too.” 

“Hi, Teddy,” Harry whispers. He reaches out a hand, and when no one stops him, touches Teddy’s cheek. “I’m--”

“You brother,” Sirius says, laying a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “This is your brother, Teddy.”

#imp is writing #wolfstar #seed moon fest #breed that old man 2024

[marvelfanfics1]

How do you think cg!Rafe would react to little!reader who has had a really bad day and is very deep in littlespace?

I'm not really happy with how this turned out but I tried 😭

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You both had been invited to some family gathering by Rafe's dad. It was a fancy restaurant and many relatives were there which already made you nervous because you had the urge to be little since you woke up but decided to push that away for the sake of Rafe not canceling, knowing he would do that in a heartbeat but you wanted to impress his family since you still felt out of place any time at one of the Cameron's gatherings and decided not to tell him.

Everything had gone smoothly until you went to use the restroom. Sitting in your stall you could hear two of his cousins talking bad about you. You tried holding back your tears but the second you heard the door shut again your feelings poured over.

You didn't know how long you had been sitting there sobbing, that fuzzy feeling you get when you're at the verge of slipping having you shake your head.

"No, no, no...not now- be big. Imma big girl-" You mumbled to yourself, getting up and checking if anyone is there before you went to look at yourself in the mirror, scolding yourself. "Stop being a baby."

If Rafe could hear you right now. Lord have mercy. He would scold you even more for disrespecting your little self.

When you were sure your crying stopped you wiped away the remaining tears and took a deep breath. Leaving the restroom you suddenly bumped into someones chest, looking up you sighed when it was da- Rafe.

"You were gone for a while, you okay?" He asked and even though you nod he knew you were lying, your puffy and red eyes giving you away. He just let it go for now as the evening is almost over and you both just wanted to get over with it.

Later in the car you were silent, just looking out the window and playing with the end of your soft pink dress. Rafe glanced your way and sighed.

"Look, I- I know something happened earlier and don't say 'it's nothing' because when you cried about it's- it's not nothing, a'ight? So, tell me."

You just shook your head, not in the mood to talk anymore today. The only thing you wanted now was to wrap yourself in a blanket and sleep.

He wanted to press the subject further, placing his hand on your thigh to give you some assurance but you only shrugged his hand off and Rafe then slowly figured that you may have slipped the second you got in the car and that you're probably just tired and overstimulated from everything.

"Okay, I understand. Let's- we'll talk about it later." He said and you didn't give him any sign of acknowledgement, looking out the window again.

Back at home you completely shut down, quickly making your way to the bedroom, grabbing your lamb stuffie and curled up under the covers. All the big emotions you felt having frustrated tears flowing down your cheeks again.

Rafe came in a few minutes later and smirked, not obvious to the situation and sat down by your side, pulling the bedsheets off your head and is instantly worried by your tears, his eyes widen.

"Hey, Hey, hey. C'mere." He pulled you into his arms, ignoring your fussing and weak attempts at trying to push him away. "No- none of that. Shh, you're okay."

You only whined, giving up and slumping against him, gripping onto his shirt and letting the tears flow. Rafe started rocking you while whispering affirmations, practically suffocating you in his hold but that's exactly what you needed right now.

After your little meltdown you pulled your face from his neck, looking up at him with big eyes, just blinking at him slowly. He was a bit irritated because he didn't know that look at all.

You only mumbled a small 'daddy' before placing your head back on his shoulder and slipping your thumb between your lips.

It then clicked in Rafe's head.

"Someone's feeling really small, hm?" He rubbed your arm, feeling you nod against him. "That's okay. That's why daddy's here, to take care of you."

He just kept holding and rocking you. When you were sound asleep he reached over to grab your paci from your nightstand and took your thumb out of your mouth, quickly replacing it with the paci when you started to stir.

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Taglist

For everything:

@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @devilslilbabysblog @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @wandaslittlewhore @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @aagn360 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @fluffyblanketgecko @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse @kissforvoid

For Rafe:

@chiaraanatra

#little!reader #daddy!rafe thoughts #daddy!rafe drabble

[looneyleyle]

the self-destructive habits of a hopeless romantic ~ j. hughes

synopsis: monetizing one's self-sabotaging habits, surprisingly, has its downfalls. one of them being leaving that one attractive hockey player that is an absolute gentleman who loves you with his whole entire heart.

warnings: self-sabotage, self-deprecation, angsty (but with happy ending)

word count: 3425 words

note: once again unedited but i wanted to get this one out there

???'s pov

time and time again, the world has seen the self destructive habits of humans. well, that makes it seem serious. the world has seen the countless missed opportunities due to a fear of another's reaction. the world has seen the blunders due to saving face. the world has seen the heartbreaks due to miscommunication. time and time again, the world has seen how people sabotage their own lives for the dumbest reasons.

esther graham was no different.

in fact, she capitalized on her ability to put herself into the worst emotional distress possible. every heartbreak produced a great work of literature that would nearly sell out in bookstores all over the northeast. she wasn't a new york times best seller by any means, but she was a small town writer from mont vernon, new hampshire. she made a name for herself during her time at hamilton college in their creative writing program. in her junior year of college, she published her first book, woes of a teenage failure, a novel following what could have been for a young college drop out named sophia. the book was a hit amongst her peers and professors, and by word of mouth, ended up selling 200 copies. the book, as ms. graham remarked, was her own "what-if" story, as she almost dropped out of college the beginning of her sophomore year.

and how do i know so much about ms. graham?

well, because i am ms. esther graham.

and i'm here to tell you all about the biggest blunder of my life.

after my first book, i hit major writing block. i would stare at my computer screen for hours just to delete the only three words that i could come up with. i would sit in coffee shops, pen in hand, ready for inspiration to strike, and yet, nothing. i was nearing the end of my college career, riding on the coattails of my first and only book's success, and couldn't figure out how to continue. my professors taught me plenty of ways to try and combat writer's block, but nothing worked.

until i met ryan. a devilishly handsome man all the way from the cheese state of wisconsin, who was meeting up with some college friends for the annual boston beanpot. we had our meet cute at a nearby pizza joint, in which i sat down and started chatting with him, thinking he was a publisher that i was supposed to meet with. after realizing my blunder when he had absolutely no idea what an anthology was, he asked if i wanted to join him and his friends at the beanpot, as one of their friends had cancelled, leaving them with an extra ticket.

ryan and i dated for four months. we would take turns traveling between my college in new york and his in wisconsin until eventually it became too much, or should i say, too little for him, and he broke it off. in my rage and complete depression from the breakup, i wrote my next hit, until the sun sets, a 142-page anthology of gut-wrenching poems, which was eventually integrated into hamilton college's curriculum for their young adult modern literature class. i was quite proud of that.

after that, i found myself yet again staring at blanks screens and empty notepads.

that is, until chloe. a beautiful new york native whom i had actually met while dating ryan. she was a hostess at a restaurant ryan and i would always go to. she was pursuing her masters in psychology, which gave me fascinating insights and tactics to use in my books. we were never officially together, but we had something for almost three months before she was whisked off by some californian named ella. i never saw her again, which prompted my next book, the ninth floor, a murder mystery following a closeted lesbian couple in 1940's hollywood (it was one of the girlfriends the whole time).

at this point, when i hit a creative block for the third time, i realized that i needed my heart or brain to be in absolute shambles in order to produce my best work. i needed to be at some sort of life crisis, and the easiest way to do so was to love another and let that love be ripped out of your life.

so, i began dating for the sake of my career. it was like i sought out the most manipulative, scummy people in the world who were able to get away with it just because they were attractive. over the course of a year, my first year out of college, i dated a total of three men and one woman, and poured my emotions out into a collection of short stories titled lavender.

and that was when i met jack.

i was in new jersey for a book signing at this little bookstore which, as it turns out, was right by the prudential center. as i left the bookstore, i was nearly run over by an overly excited man-child with a giant bag slung upon his shoulder.

"luke, watch out, you nearly killed that woman!" a voice yelled from where the man came from.

"i'm so sorry about that miss, my brother can get a bit overexcited sometimes." looking at the person talking to me, i found a young, very attractive brunet with the most adorable smile. i straightened myself up instinctively, wanting to appear presentable.

"no worries. if you don't mind me asking, what got him so riled up that he almost trampled me?" the man let out a laugh at my statement.

"of course, we owe you at least that much for your near-death experience. he just got nominated for the calder trophy." he explained, as if those words meant anything to me. seeing my blank stare, he clarified. "a rookie of the year award. we play for the new jersey devils." the boy in question came up and joined us, grinning ear to ear.

"ahhh, i see. i'm not a big hockey watcher, which i know is absolute blasphemy for someone who grew up in new hampshire." his jaw nearly dropped.

"you're from up here and don't like hockey? we have to change that." he exclaimed. in my peripheral vision, i could see his brother trying to hide his laughter at his brother's forwardness.

"ill have to come and watch a game sometime." i mused.

"we have a game coming up next week against the blue jackets. i could maybe snatch you a seat in exchange for your number." he proposed. his brother snorted at that, having to turn around to hide his obvious laughter. the man paid his brother no mind, just looking at me with a big smile on his face.

"trying to bribe me mister?"

"is it working?" i put my hand out and he immediately put his phone in my hand, adding my information into his contacts.

"esther? that's nice, you look like a esther." i quirked an eyebrow at him, but continued on anyways.

"and you? what should i call you?"

"call me yours. or jack, either works." the brother was doubled over on the floor at this point, jack finally acknowledging him by kicking him slightly, making him fall over.

"anyways, ms. esther, we have to get going, but ill see you next week at our game." he put out his hand for me to shake.

"you've got yourself a deal jack."

and just like that, jack and i started talking. his eagerness was cute, he texted me no more than ten minutes after meeting me. we talked every day, mainly on calls, asking each other questions and such to get to know each other.

and sure enough, the next week, i found myself back in new jersey watching the brothers play. i assumed jack was going to be some sort of benchwarmer or something, but that didn't seem to be the case. despite my lack of hockey knowledge, i could tell the boy was good, and he had quite a fan base if the amount of women wearing his jersey meant anything. and i felt severely out of place, simply wearing a grey sweater and jeans, unlike everyone else in the stands, decked out in red.

after that, i found myself going to a couple more hockey games, for no particular reason. jack would try to explain the game over video calls and our occasional coffee meet ups, but i couldn't for the life of me wrap my head around it. why do they all get off the ice every five seconds? and what the hell is offsides?? jack always laughed at my confusion, telling me that i'd get it one day.

we spent a couple months thriving off of video chats and once-in-a-blue-moon hangouts, until i got a job as an editor for a local paper. i was good at editing, always having good grammar and an eye for design, but it wasn't my dream. despite it not being my dream, i needed a stable income, and fast. my mind was devoid of ideas, and it didn't seem like that would change any time soon.

plus, it helped that this stable income happened to be in new york city, putting me a lot closer to a certain someone. and, with me being closer, that certain someone would pop on by a lot more than before. and eventually, chinese takeout dinners turned into staying the night, which turned into coming up for the weekend, which turned into the line of friendship being crossed into something more.

and then, i made the dumbest mistake of my life.

i let him go.

now, i know what you must be thinking. he must have done something wrong, he must have cheated or neglected me or done something so completely unforgivable that i would just throw away the most amazing thing in my life. and i wish i was here to tell you that was the truth.

but it wasn't.

jack was nothing but a gentleman, and i was just a broken girl doing the only thing i knew how to do: leave. i like to tell myself that it was for my career, that i needed to write another book, that i wasn't fulfilled in my job and that i was putting myself first by doing this, but i was perfectly content with my life. i was an editor for a major publishing company, i started writing little happy poems about my mundane life with jack, and wanted nothing more. i had no reason to run away. i just woke up in his bed one day and realized that i wanted to spend the rest of my life with him, and i couldn't accept that. i had gotten so used to leaving people that i assumed that they would leave me if i hadn't done so first, and i couldn't lose the one real thing i ever had.

so naturally, my self-destructive, self-sabotaging self let him go, the exact opposite of what i wanted.

and when i got back to my apartment after writing jack a confusing and half-assed letter, i cried. i cried and cried and cried, and i always wrote about characters crying until they couldn't anymore, but that day, i couldn't find the end to my tears. for hours tears would either slowly leak or violently pour from my eyes, and they never did end, not even when i passed out on my couch from exhaustion.

and after a week, i was expecting to pick myself up and start writing my next best seller, coping with my writing. but i sat there, and my florescent computer screen simply sat there, staring back at me. and when i left my apartment for a change of scenery, the blank pages of my notebook mocked me. i flipped through past works, all of them being little poems about jack, and the waterworks continued, right in the middle of a starbucks.

after a week and four days, i couldn't take it. i had to make things right, i had to at least see him. it always worked in the books, right? someone makes a huge mistake, they break up, they see each other again and realize they're both miserable without each other and then get back together and live happily ever after.

when i knocked on the door to jack's apartment, i was met with an unimpressed looking luke. at the sight of him, the waterworks started up again.

"you're an idiot, you know that?" i nodded furiously at this, sobs wrecking through my body. i couldn't see through the tears in my eyes, but i could tell the luke hadn't moved a muscle.

"he deserved better and you know that." i felt my soul being crushed. "i mean, a letter? seriously esther? and a half-assed one at that. i know damn well you don't have a degree in creative writing for that bullshit."

i opened my mouth to explain, but nothing came up. what would i say, that i was a broken person? cop out. that i did it to everyone? not much better. that i got scared? fucking coward.

"if you think that you deserve to see my brother, then i'll let you in." he told me, moving out of the way, door open wide. i just stood there, staring at him through teary eyes. my brain cheered, finally able to go in, but my feet wouldn't move.

my heart still clenched and ached, and with every thought of moving forward, into that apartment, it hurt more. jack didn't deserve this. after all the nights of him reading my poems about him and praising my work, after all the sweet things he'd say when i was down, after all the little acts of kindness he showed me, after all the love he poured into us, he didn't deserve to be broken by me. hurt people hurt people, the scholars had that right. he didn't deserve to be broken.

and so, i got ready to leave, again.

"i'm sorry." was all i said, turning around with heavy legs and a heavy heart. i heard luke let out a sigh as i walked away, closing the door behind him.

a couple of days went by and i found myself back at their apartment. i knew they wouldn't be there, they had an away game in anaheim the night before, and i knew from my time with jack that they would always spend the night in the city before coming back, especially after a win, a 5-0 win no less.

i stood there in front of their door, a small box in my hands, contemplating. jack didn't deserve this, but a selfish part of me needed this. i placed the box gingerly outside of their door and left the building. if the box was taken by some nosy neighbor, or thrown in the trash by some janitor, then it would be fate. it would be a sign to move on. but, there was a chance that jack and luke would come back to their apartment, and would pick up the box, and jack would recognize my handwriting. and, instead of throwing the box in the trash like any normal self-respecting person receiving a box from their shitty ex, he would take it to his room, and open it up to see my notebook, with a bookmark starting at the pages when i first started seeing him. and he would read the poems and maybe, just maybe, he'd see the note written on the bookmark to meet me at the park near his apartment, and maybe, just maybe, he'd be willing to hear me out.

i went to that park every single day for exactly one month and six days, always arriving by 1 pm, never late. and i would stay there until 4 pm, waiting.

on the 37th day, i was sitting there, editing, funnily enough, a sports column about the recent devils and islanders game. i watched it, absolutely terrible game it was, the islanders beating the devils for the first time in the season. our sports journalist, while passionate and very knowledgeable about seemingly every sport out there, had a knack for writing long, run-on sentences that reflected his rambling nature. as i sat there on the same park bench i had been sitting on for the previous 36 days, a figure stopped in front of me. i finished up the sentence i was working on before looking up.

and while i hate cliches, the wind was absolutely knocked out of my lungs.

"h-hey jack." i started, immediately putting away my work, giving him my full attention.

"hey esther." a shiver ran down my spine from him just saying my name. it had been so long, and while it lost its loving tone, i welcomed it with open arms. jack moved, taking the spot next to me, looking out at the trees in front of us. when it became apparent he wasn't going to say anything, i started the conversation.

"i see you read the notebook."

"i finished it three weeks ago." he replied, voice lacking its usual emotion. tears welled up in my eyes. three weeks.

"oh."

"i came here immediately after finishing it." i felt my eyes bulge out of their sockets at that. he continued, "i went to that bench over there and watched as you fidgeted in your spot, looking frantically at everyone who passed by. i watched the next day as you sat in the pouring rain with no umbrella. i sat over on that bench every day that i was here since reading your notebook."

a silence fell upon us, my mind reeling, trying to figure out what he was trying to say, from his emotionless face to the fact that he came.

"do you know how much it hurt? waking up to empty sheets and some half-assed note with the lamest excuses on earth?" i hadn't really paid mind to the tears rolling down my cheeks until he brought that up, sending me back to that morning, quickly scribbling out some gibberish before leaving the best part of my life behind.

"i was going to wait another month, y'know. to see if you were still gonna come here every day."

"so why didn't you?" i asked, sniffling intensely, trying to calm down my sobs.

"luke said i was absolutely miserable without you. coach told me i wasn't focused. my teammates pointed out that i barely left my apartment. the icing on the cake was when my mom started asking if you would be coming over to the lakehouse this summer. i realized, as pathetic as it seems, that i can't live without you."

my attempts at stopping my crying were thrown out the window at that. i could probably fill the hudson river with the amount of tears i had shed over the past two months.

"how can i make it up to you. please, please let me make it up to you." i begged, fully facing him, my hands angrily playing with the sleeves of my shirt because if i didn't, i would be reaching out to the man in front of me.

"never pull that shit again." he bargained, looking me dead in the eyes for the first time in months. and in that moment, i saw just how bad he was doing. sunken eyes with heavy bags, his skin dull, hair slightly unkempt under his hat.

"never again." i promised, putting out my pinky to him, something he would always do when he promised me to not get hurt in games. he let out a hoarse laugh, looking away from me, and when he looked back, i saw the tears brewing in his eyes. he took my pinky in his and held it there, between us.

"now, i'm not gonna just take you right back after all that. that was really shitty and i need some time to get over that. but, as i've found out, i can't really function without you. so maybe you could start with coming to my games again, and i could take you out for coffee next week."

"sounds perfect."

i accepted my life as an editor for the local newspaper, accepted that i probably wouldn't write another page-turning sell-out book, accepted that i was completely content with whatever happened to me, so long as jack was there with me.

and with that, my self-destructive, soul-crushing, heart-breaking tendencies reached their end.

#jack hughes #jack hughes x oc #new jersey devils #fanfic

[eulalielatibule]

For the Autistic Character Writing prompts:

31. Autistic character with hyperempathy who struggles to deal with it

With Steve, please?

-Zombie

Thank you for the prompt, @thezombieprostitute! If anyone wants to send me something from this list please do! 🩷

You were outside tending to your garden like you always did in the morning. You found it very relaxing and liked to look at all the critters and bugs.

At some point you wanted to go in to get some water, so you stood up and out of the corner of your eye you saw a little little blob on the concrete of your driveway. You got closer and bent down, seeing it was a bug that you must have accidentally squished.

Now, this happens all the time. People accidentally step on bugs daily. But that didn't make it any less painful to you. Your eyes welled up as you were hit with emotions and you let out a sob.

Steve was busy making up some breakfast and over the sizzling of the bacon he heard your cries. Quickly he turned the stove off and ran outside to see you hunched over on the driveway.

"Honey, what's wrong?" He gently spoke as he squatted down next to you and pulled you into a side hug. You wept as you snuggled into his large chest and tried to calm down.

"The- The- The bug, it died. I killed it." You whimpered, making Steve coo and squeeze you closer.

He knew how sensitive you were. It was a stereotype that autistic people had low empathy, and while that was true for some people it wasn't true for everyone. For you and several others, you had hyper empathy. You cried almost every day over things that some people might consider silly. But Steve understood just how hard this was for you and that you needed comfort and reassurance.

"Hey, hey it's okay. Take a deep breath. You made a mistake, you're not a bad person. It's okay." He watched as you kept the remains of the bug in your cupped hands, rubbing your arms and continuing to squeeze you in the hug as he knew pressure was comforting to you. "Do you want to give it a little funeral?"

You nodded and carefully got up and took it to an area with lots of soil. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. I hope your family and your pack will be okay without you." You said as you dug a tiny hole in the dirt with your fingers and then placed the bug inside the hole. You covered it back up with dirt and hugged Steve again. He rubbed your back and kissed the top of your head.

"Let's get washed up and have breakfast okay? I'll make you your favorite drink to help you feel better?" You nodded in agreement and followed him inside.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers angst #steve rogers fluff #autistic!reader #my writing

[marredmusings]

umm so i wrote a little fic/blurb idk i don't think it's good but it's something that's been stuck in my head for a while with my own little oc named grace but her name is only mentioned a few times so it could totally be ignored and seen as reader.

anyway this is my first ever fic so please be kind to me and if you have suggestions or other fic ideas i'd love to hear them.

not proof read and lowercase intended.

and if you think it's awful please lie to me i'm fragile 😔

deny

you are a lover girl. a hopeless romantic, someone who dreams of finding "the one" and living happily ever after. kie often says you tend to fall in love a little with everyone you meet. you can't help it though, you have so much love in you, it feels like you'll burst at the seams if you don't share it with others.

you think you're in love with your best friend jj maybank. no one understands you the way the wild blond haired boy does. no one can communicate with you with just a single look the way jj does. no one makes your heart beat out of your chest and your tummy flutter the way his dimpled smile does, eyes crinkling at the corners, a slight sunburn on his nose because lord know that boy doesn't use the sunscreen you bought him.

so yeah you're in love with jj maybank but then yesterday a different boy kissed you. pope heyward, your other best friend, genius extraordinaire whom you thought was maybe in love with kie but no- he kissed you and you felt a tingle in your ever beating heart. heat filled your cheeks and your ears became fuzzy. that was a new feeling when it came to pope. it made you excited to explore because as much as you love jj, you don't think the boy would ever return your undying affection because your friendship meant too much.

----

you stood in the threshold of popes bedroom, gasp stuck in your throat, eyes wide and mouth open at the sight before you. you’re not sure how to process what you’re seeing.

before you on the bed that pope kissed you on not even 24 hours ago, is jj maybank, your closest friend, kissing the heyward boy.

so many emotions flow through you at the sight before you.

shock because not once has jj; or pope for that matter mentioned or even hinted that they liked men- or each other. then again, jj has always liked beautiful people and pope is certainly that.

sadness because you and pope had literally just kissed. maybe you were naive to think a simple kiss meant something more to the boy, but it was pope, you don't think there's a mean bone in his body. then again you’ve always been too much of a romantic, too blinded to really see what’s in front of you. blinded by your want and need to be loved that perhaps you create situations in your mind that you interpret as reality? maybe you need to contact your therapist again. you're sounding even more delusional than before.

lastly, you feel jealousy. the angry green monster rumbling around in your tummy, making its way up your throat. you’re not sure what exactly is making you jealous because the image of the two boys kissing is surely confusing. are you jealous because pope is kissing another person who isn’t you? a part of you is jealous because he’s kissing jj. or maybe it’s that jj is kissing pope or that maybe they’re kissing eachother and they're not kissing you? you're not sure at this point. dear diary jealousy is a disease babes, and you are infected.

you must have made a noise because next thing you know, the two boys are pulling apart, a string of spit still connecting them and for a second your love rattled brain is jealous of it. the spit that is, because deep down you’ve always known that you wanted them both… to be the one to connect them. you feel slightly crazy being jealous of spit.

jjs face goes beat red and then flushes pale, like a ghost. he looks terrified and like he might vomit all over the floor in a second.

“grace!” popes panicked voice reaches your ears but they’re still kind of ringing from the shock of seeing your supposedly straight best friends kiss.

in your heartbroken haze you wonder if you're being a bad ally right now. you love the gays you swear! you just never pictured pope and jj as being a part of the gays ™.

you clear your throat, “jb and kie are waiting for us downstairs. we were going out on the boat today, remember?”

you try and say that as gently as possible because jj still looks like he’s going to pass out and pope isn’t much better.

popes hands are shaking as he reaches for you and a part of you wants to pull away but you’re not mean. you’ve never been mean so even if your feelings are hurt you’ll always put your best friends feelings above your own. and it looks like pope needs to touch you. maybe to hold your hand and reassure him you’re really standing there, witnessing something that you probably shouldn’t have.

so many emotions flicker through popes eyes. you can’t really see his blush but you’re sure if you touch his face it would be hotter than the sun.

pope grabs your hands in his shaking ones. you can feel how clammy they are and you hazard a look back to jj who has yet to even move. you’re a little concerned he’s gone into shock.

you let out a soft sigh and smile at the boys, a smile that is mostly genuine.

you squeeze popes hand and make eye contact with the panicked blonde boy on the bed.

“it’s ok jj. i won’t say anything if you don’t want me to.” you speak kindly, as if you’re talking to a scared feral cat.

you only see jj swallow hard. “for what it’s worth, i understand the appeal... wanting to kiss pope and all.” you tease hoping to cut the obvious tension in the room. you feel like you're the one choking now.

jj and pope both let out huffs like they’re afraid to laugh but also relieved you’re not upset.

“you’re not mad?” jj croaks like he still has a frog lodged in his throat. he looks at you with soft wonder, like you’re the best thing in his life. his stare makes your tummy flutter.

“of course not. you guys are my best friends. i only ever want you to be happy!” you reply honestly. jj deserves happiness after the shit life he’s been dealt. he deserves good things and if you have to set aside your feelings in order for him to have good things then by golly you’ll do that.

“grace, about yesterday-“ pope starts off,

“don’t worry buddy, already forgotten.” you cut him off. hopefully saving him the strife of having to apologize to you about the kiss and saving you the embarrassment of him telling you he regrets your kiss. you don't think you could survive hearing that out loud.

you march over to jj still holding popes hand, effectively dragging the boy with you. you throw your arms tightly around jjs neck and after a heartbeat, jj returns your hug. you move your head to look at pope and nod at him, encouraging him to join the hug.

“now c’mon. you know how pissy jb gets when he’s made to wait” you giggle.

you lead the boys out of popes room and home and into the twinkie without giving them an option of saying no.

“finally! i thought y’all died or something. what took so long” john b huffs in exasperation.

“my fault jb!” you quickly chirp so the boys don’t have to panic and think of a lie “pope showed me the new book he got and it’s my favourite and i starting gushing and you know me i can’t shut up and… well i forgot why i went up to get them in the first place” you giggle with a sheepish smile.

“you’re so lucky you’re cute, grace” kie laughs teasingly.

you see pope and jj making eye contact. you have a feeling you might need to play therapist for them soon. pope doesn’t know how to talk about his feelings without beating around the bush and well, jjs favourite thing to do is deny deny deny.

actually, that’s exactly what you’re gonna do too! deny you have feelings for pope. deny you have feelings for jj. deny you ever saw them kiss and deny that them kissing only upset you because you weren’t a part of it. deny that a part of you enjoyed it. deny that your feelings matter in this situation and deny that if given the chance, you’d love to be in between a beautiful jj maybank and pope heyward sandwich.

yep, deny deny deny. this is gonna be a long freaking summer.

#jj maybank #kiara carrera #obx #outer banks #pope heyward #jj maybank x reader #pope x reader x jj #jj maybank x oc #pope heyward x reader #pope heyward x oc #john b routledge #my fic #obx fanfiction #obx fic

[natsukishinomiyaswife]

⋆ 𝓐𝔃𝓾𝓵 𝓐𝓼𝓱𝓮𝓷𝓰𝓻𝓸𝓽𝓽𝓸: 𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓜𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓜𝓮 𝓢𝓸 𝓗𝓪𝓹𝓹𝔂 ⋆

Please note: This is a repost from my old blog, @sugarcookiesheep!

⋆ You had never been with anyone like Azul before. How dedicated he was, how hardworking he was. He had dreams that he would always strive for, creating goals for himself and planning whenever he could. His business, the Mostro Lounge, meant everything to him, and you would support him however you could. Over time you began to realize just how important you were to him, how he considered you a priority just like the Lounge, if not moreso. He made you feel cherished, treasured, like you were the only person in the room. You had seen him at his lowest, at his most vulnerable, and you never took the trust he has for you for granted. There was no one but you in his eyes, no one else could ever compare.

⋆ He would go to you first whenever he had an idea or business plan, wanting to know your opinion. Even if it was as simple as changing decor or adding new items to the menu, your thoughts mattered to him most. You would have fun sitting at the table reserved specifically for yourself and Azul, taste testing new dishes and drinks he was considering. The table was tucked away in the corner, secluded to give you both privacy. As soon as you entered the lounge the staff would greet you, recognizing you immediately. They would inform Azul of your arrival, knocking on the door to his office and letting him know.

⋆ Whether he was expecting you or not, his mood would always brighten whenever you stopped by, leaving his office to greet you. He would take your hands in his, pressing a soft kiss to your lips as he asked how you were. He would put his arm around your waist as he walked you to your table, his hand resting on your lower back. He would be focused solely on you, his eyes never leaving you as he pulled out your chair. Once you were seated he would go to his seat, sitting across from you.

⋆ There was a candle in the middle of the table, shining in the dim lights of the lounge. It made your meet up feel more intimate, giving a romantic atmosphere. He would have his hand resting in the middle of the table, palm facing up. He did this every time you sat across from each other, wanting to hold your hand. You didn’t even think as you put your hand in his, doing so out of habit.

⋆ Servers would bring you various dishes and drinks one by one, Azul explaining each as you tried them. Throughout the night you began to notice a pattern, looking towards him as your heart raced. The drinks were made using your favorite fruits, the dishes with your tastes and dietary needs in mind. These new items were meant for you, you realized. He created them thinking of you.

⋆ He noticed your staring, wondering if there was something wrong with the current dish you were trying. Before he could say anything you leaned across the table, kissing him softly. You thanked him as you sat back down, looking at him affectionately. He laughed lightly, saying it was no problem as he mentions how you must have noticed the trend with the new items. You nod your head, Azul going into detail about what the inspiration was for each new thing. Details that you hadn’t even considered, like one of the drinks being your favorite color, or one of the dishes being a recreation of your favorite meal growing up. The thought and care blew you away, leaving you speechless. You didn’t think it was possible to fall even more in love with him, but here you were, falling for him all over again.

⋆ “You make me so happy, Azul” you say, sounding a bit emotional. His breath hitches, squeezing your hand lightly. He felt frozen under your loving gaze, his heart pounding at your words. He clears his throat, his face a light pink as he thinks for a moment. When he responds his voice is just as emotional as yours, his gaze unwavering,

“I…could never repay you for all the happiness you have brought me, even if I tried. I will do my best though, for as long as you’ll allow me.” ♡

Originally posted: February 20th, 2024

𝓣𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓴 𝔂𝓸𝓾! ♡

#♡.sheep writes #♡.twst #♡.azul ashengrotto #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul x reader

[plethora-of-imagines]

Silk Lingerie

AN: Practically unedited but here is the first longer fic I have made in a long time!

Prompt:

Shopping for 'that special outfit' is harder than it looks when you're dating all the moon boys. They each like something slightly different, but you want to find something all of them can enjoy- and when you do, their reaction is almost magical 👑🦇

Word Count: 1,831

Warnings: smut/lemon, inaccurate portrayal of DID

"Oh, love," Stevens' voice was filled with awe. Not quite breaking but consumed with emotion making it thick. "What have we done to deserve such a treat? You're just too good to us, truly."

The soft silk of the slip dress had been chosen just for Steven to touch, the buttons just to build the anticipation as he worked to undress you. The lace of your undergarments peeking out from the low neckline to tease the others and make clear that this was for all of them. 

Steven was hesitantly stroking the soft smooth fabric near your hips with reverence. His face scrunching up at the voices that for the moment only he could hear.

"I'm not letting either of you take control. There is silk and buttons," he paused as they likely spoke over each other. "Nope, not happening, mates. Silk and buttons! That's my special treat and you know it. Let me enjoy it and bugger off."

You laughed and took a moment to brush Steven's hair out of his face. Heart swelling as he leaned into your touch.

"Don't worry, my boys. I tried to have something for each of you.”

The cocky smile on their lips told you that against his wishes, Steven had control stolen away from him.

“Good. I would have to remind you not to forget the rest of us if you didn’t, princesa.”

“Jake, give Steven back the body,” your attempts to sound stern were laughable when compared to Jake’s stern voice.

Gripping your ass firmly with his hands he hummed in consideration. Leaning his body back to take in as much of your outfit as he could while still keeping his crotch against yours. You could feel their cock getting firmer with each second Jake admired you.

“Let me enjoy you all sexy and dolled up with my own eyes first. Stevie isn’t the only one to love a bit of silk.”

“Jake you love basically everything,” you laughed.

“Mhhh, must be a side effect of loving the most beautiful girl in the world then.��� He sighed. “Alright, alright, I’ll give you back the body Steven! Just stop with all the screaming and annoying songs.”

“It’s your turn after he undresses me,” you told Jake to ease his reluctice to give up the body, “then Marc’s. I’m planning to owe Steven a slow morning fuck tomorrow since he likely won’t get to fuck me tonight like you and Marc will.” 

His hands released your ass in favor of creeping up your back. Mouth finding your collarbone in a manner that screamed Steven.

“If that’s okay with you Steven. I don’t want you to feel left out or shorted by this...”

Your attempts to seek reassurance about your idea fled your mind as the light bites and gentle kisses were pressed against your throat. Soft moans overtook any attempts to question if Steven felt shorted again. He certainly didn’t seem to feel shorted with the attention he was lavishing you with.

The top button of the dress popped open with ease. Steven’s fingers alternating between playing with the button and tracing patterns of hieroglyphics against your skin. 

“I certainly don’t feel left out,” he muttered against your skin. “You dressed up just for us, in this silk and button number just for me. Gonna take my time yeah? Fully enjoy you until the others are screaming for me to let them have their turn. Make you feel so good that you think of me while they fuck you proper.”

“Steven,” you moaned.

Your stomach was filled with butterflies in the best of ways. You were already aching for him. Still lavishing your body with affection he slowly messed with the second button. Beginning to unbutton it before changing his mind and closing it again. Fiddling with it like he tended to mess with his sleeves. You had always lovingly called his too long sweaters his sweater paws.

“Steven, please,” you begged. 

You knew that he could keep up this torture for hours. 

In answer to your pleas he slowly trailed his kisses down your throat to the skin right above the valley of your breasts. Sucking lightly at your skin until a small hiss passed your lips. While you were distracted he finally committed to opening the second button. Hands sliding under the slip dress to cradle your breasts for a moment before moving on to their real goal. Pushing off the thin straps to make the fabric pool off of your breasts, the sage green lace of the teddy you were wearing was further exposed to him. Remaining buttons kept the silk from slipping off of your body any further than Steven wanted it. Lying just below your beautiful breasts.

“Well isn’t that just the prettiest sight known to man. Almost a shame that no one else but the three of us gets to see it,” Steven delighted in your burning cheeks, the closest approximation to a mischievous smile he could manage breaking out on his lips.

Groaning you wordlessly tried to beg him for more.

Taking pity on you, Steven’s lips enveloped your breast. Sucking your nipple through the lace covering you from sight. A strangled moan filled the air between you, throwing your head back in bliss. Warmth flooded your veins, your clit pulsing in need. Fingers threaded themselves through your hair.  Holding you in place with a guiding hand.

His lips were so warm. Alternating between sucking firmly on your nipples, soaking the lace with his tongue, and pressing open mouthed kisses to your tit. One hand tangling into the silk pooling along your back. The other, the other was gently squeezing your neglected tit. Just a nice, firm pressure. Your hips subconsciously ground against his. Steven didn’t hesitate to slide his thigh between your legs, letting you thrust against him.

Your hands grasped onto Steven’s head, pulling him gently up by his hair to meet your lips. Sloppy kisses, broken only by gasps for air and needy moans.

A bite to your lower lip, had you pulling back with a small squeak. 

“Sorry, princesa,” Jake teased, sounding not at all sorry for his hard nip. “But Steven and you were getting far too worked up, and the rest of us want to get our turn.”

Jake’s steady hands made quick work of the remaining buttons. Hands sliding underneath the pooling fabric at your hips. Simply, sliding it off your body. Down onto the floor. A light pressure against your thighs encouraged you to jump into Jake’s arms. Letting him carry you to the bed as he devoured your mouth with kisses.

He didn’t bother to step away when he broke the kiss for a precious few seconds to yank the shirt Steven had been wearing over his head. Throwing it across the room to land closer to where your dress had been discarded.

He took those few seconds to also admire your appearance before his hands and lips were once again on you. Moaning against your skin as he moved to suck a hickey onto your neck. Hands teasing down into the opening near your crotch on the lace bodysuit.

Fingers sliding against your pussy, collecting every drop of arousal they could from between your legs.

Pulling away, he murmured teasingly, “I’m not the only one excited princessa.”

Jake looked you dead in the eyes as he brought his slick covered fingers to his mouth. Sucking them clean, a sting of saliva followed them along as he returned them to your clit. Circling as he watched your eyes roll back. Soft pleas filled the air as you fell apart on his fingers. The first finger entered you slowly with no resistance. The second was able to easily slip in as well. Spreading and searching for the spot that would make your body writhe. As if he didn’t already know exactly where that spot was. Gentle pressure spread you open as his thumb flicked lazily at your clit.

“Just take one more, one more and then you can come apart on our cock.”

Whimpering as the small burn that his third finger caused as it pushed inside. Feeling so full and stretched. When his fingers left your dripping pussy you could feel your arousal leaking out of you. With eyes that struggled to stay fully open you watched as he covered his hard, leaking cock with your juices.

The pressure as his cock slowly slid inside had you squirming. His hands reaching out to hold you still by your hips. Clenching around him as each inch filled you.

“Mhmmm,” you struggled to hold back your sounds of pleasure. Overwhelmed by the feeling.

Feeling his balls against your skin, knowing that he was fully inside you prepared yourself to feel him move. But he didn’t.

“How do you want it,” Jake refused to move until you answered. “Does my precious princessa want it fast and hard?”

“Mhm!” You hummed your agreement, foolishly hoping that he would take that as an answer.

“That’s not an answer, I need you to use your pretty words, mi amor,” he teased.

“Please,” your cheeks were flushed from both need and slight humiliation at being made to say it out loud. A sort of state only Jake seemed to be able to stir in you. “Please fuck me hard, Jake.”

Squealing as you were granted what you asked for. The force pushing you against the sheets, sliding up until Jake grabbed your shoulders and dragged you back to meet his cock again.

You could feel his cock twitching as he groaned. Head falling back in his bliss.

“Oh fuck, how the hell did Jake not cum! Fuck, baby girl you feel so good.”

Scattered thrusts that had no pattern or consistency emphasized Marc’s inability to keep still so close to release.

“Bet you planned for me to take that pretty number off of you and have you in just these” snapping the garters against your skin with a smile pressed into your skin, “pretty things. But you feel too good to stop. I can understand why Jake likes to see you like this. It’s cute how much of a mess you are, pretty girl.”

“I,” skin feeling warm as you managed to get flustered. 

You whined as he halted your attempts to hide your face before they could happen, “Marc!”

Kisses devouring you once again. As he kissed the remaining breath out of you as he thrust, over and over again.

The warm feeling as your pussy was coated in Marc’s seed from the inside had you shivering. It felt so good. Not even bothering to pull out, he continued to fuck you with gentle thrust. Fingers playing with your clit with a skill you didn’t even have.

The uncontrollable twitches of your body as you reached your peak left you limp. Marc’s body falling on top of you.

“Second round in the shower?”

His impish smile teased that it wouldn't be the last round.

#marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #jake lockely x reader #marc x reader #steven x reader #jake x reader #anon