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#show em the ropes
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so, for all the firefighter!yuuji aus that i adore, i never see any ems!megumi, which feels like a crime
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tswwwit · 2 years
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Who are dipper's parents in this au?
They're parents! And arguably, not the best ones ever - they've been mostly out of the picture since the twin's magic showed up, which is when they were sent to Stan.
They don't have any names in canon, so I've never come up with any for them either!
#I still would like to get to a 'Dipper sees his parents for like the fourth time in 9 years' fic#But that will happen after Confessing It ends#answers#Magical puberty is like ten times more arson-y than regular puberty#But it's still a shitty excuse for ditching your kids with your one reliable (?) magical relative#There's probably some meat on the bones on Stan's experience of this too#Going from 'oh hey. Children in my home. Guess I better show 'em the ropes'#To 'Hey summer's almost over when are you picking em up' while also going 'aw man I'll miss these kids'#To 'what do you *mean* you aren't picking them up'#To flashbacks to Stan and Ford's OWN shitty childhood#To probably standing in the doorway checking in on these kids as they slept#Taking in the enormity of the task#Holy crap these are two whole human children in his 'care' such as it is what the hell does he do with that#A terror in Stan's heart as he realized *he* was gonna be the main influence in their lives until someone else took over#(Spoiler: Nobody else took over)#And staying up all night trying to figure out how to spin an extended stay in Oregon as a 'fun idea right???'#Telling himself 'C'mon Stan the parents just panicked it's not like either of the twins have really dangerous magic'#'You get 'em settled into their stuff and it'll all be sorted out in a few months'#Bless you Stan you were not at ALL prepared for this#But you did way way *way* better than anyone - including Ford - expected#Demon marriage not withstanding and even that worked out incredibly well due to your influence#Dipper definitely thinks of him as 'Dad' somewhere deep inside his mind#Bill instantly clued into the paternal relationship but hasn't seen a reason to bring it up#It's all human drama whatever#No skin off his nose
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stark-alchemy · 2 years
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More meme af SaMS Show Content. October is gunna be a rough ride for everyone but lemmie tell ya, when November hits they're coming for your bitch ass Eclipse!!!
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I'm taking some liberties with Bloodmoon's design...he's just Marx with more gremlin energy.
Poor sun is getting therapy after this...
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Everyone in stream said Lunar would use a daycare chair but thanks to @eldritchxdreamer he now has got a cute ass unicorn chair to destroy him with:
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istherewifiinhell · 1 year
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Between bossman sick and other boss having a lot of things he has to do outside the store i just built up in my mind the idea of getting a new hire with as much excitement of asking for a little sibling or perhaps a puppy.
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nanamisdickrider · 29 days
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Sweet Treat
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Pairing: soft Dom!nanami x reader
You were on your bed, sheets and blankets all messed up and almost falling off of the bed. Your back was arching and your face was shoved in your pillow with a strong and veiny hand on your head, gripping tightly on your hair. It felt like hours passed by since you and nanami started making love.
“M-moree! Nana—mi...can't you be rougher with—Ah!—me..?”
It all started when you randomly told nanami to be rough with you in bed, making him choke and almost spit out his warm tea. He's truly a sweetheart, he can't be rough with the woman he loves. But if that's what makes you happy then he'd be more than happy to oblige.
“Are you sure you can take it? Because if you try to tap out and whine to me that you can't take me anymore...I'll make you take it"
After that, you found yourself buried in your pillow and your ass red with slaps. Nanami pulled you back by the hair, careful enough to not hurt you too much. He leaned down and put his left arm on the pillow and let go of your hair, your face fell in the gap between his elbow. His muscles flexed as you clenched around his cock. Sucking him in deeper. Your cheeks were squished between his arm and you were struggling his breathe, not that you didn't like it. He thrusted in deeper, rolling his hips and leaving wet kisses on your back and neck. Making the darkest love bites on your soft skin. He groaned and used his free hand to reach down and rub your clit because he was close to his orgasm and he knew you were close too. “F-fuck baby...you hear her? She's sucking me in so hard, the wet noises? You hear em’ ?” you were fucked dumb and squashed between his arm. You couldn't think straight and yet managed to mumble a broken “y-yes!”
He rubbed on your clit in a circular motion and when you clenched down on him one last time. He shot hot ropes of cum inside you. His hips stuttering and and his thrusts getting sloppier. Soon after you came, coating his cock with your cum.
He pulled out and turned you over, placing you on your back. He looked at you with loving eyes and cupped your cheeks “Was my squeeze too hard love? Your cheeks are red.” his eyes showed a bit of concern for you. Making you smile. “no you didn't...actually, you should squeeze me harder next time!”
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eupheme · 10 days
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— on the fence [into the fire, part ii]
part i | masterlist
cooper howard / the ghoul x f!reader
rated e - 3.8k
tags: dubcon, power dynamics, vault dweller!reader, bounty hunting, pwp, restraints, sex for favors, oral (m), exhibitionism, spanking, biting, hair pulling, light choking, sub/dom elements, PiV, radiated creampie
a/n: hi! I had a couple ideas I wanted to explore, which turned into a mini-series. I have them all mapped out & I hope to have them up for you soon! 💖
“Why don’t you show me again,” He husks, “What you’re so good at.”
Your breath catches - eyes flicking warily towards the door, but he’s quick to call you back.
“Hey, now. Eyes over here.” The Ghoul snaps, “You need to worry ‘bout me more than anyone out there.”
(Or - the Ghoul gets you out of your Vault Suit.)
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You’re not sure you like the look of this town.
It sprawls wide and low across the desert, the inhabitants gathering in the shadows to escape glare of the sun. A low buzzing murmur that carries with you through the streets.
It feels suffocating, after the open miles before.
Following the dark figure of Ghoul, as you wind through the streets. Partly because you have to - that leash still pulled tight, wrapped around a fist.
Partly because you want to stick close, always.
“-don’t need you slowing me down.” The Ghoul gives the rope a yank, and you scowl, “You get hurt doing some stupid shit, and I’m leavin’ you behind.”
Your frown softens. His words still just as harsh, snarled out. But they’re a far cry from before.
Before, when you were certain he was going to hand you right back over to your Vault, in spite of how far you’ve come. Something significant passing in the journey through the desert, as he had taken what you wanted.
The taste of him has since faded, but he still lingers.
“Gotta earn your keep, too.” His head turns, eyeing you from beneath the brim of hat, “You good at anythin’?”
Unable to help it, you smirk - a brow raising. He scoffs in response, eyes narrowing.
“Anyone can be good at suckin’ cock, sweetheart.” He drawls, unimpressed, “’m not so bad at it, myself.”
Your lips part in surprise and he’s the one that grins, now.
The Ghoul picks up another bounty here. A shady, alley-way deal - keeping you close to his heels as he snatches the faded paper contact off a tattered board.
Running into another pair looking for jobs - a fresh scar splitting across the nose of a man who tries to start a conversation, before quickly retreating.
“Fuckin’ amateurs” muttered in reply to your heavy, silent judgement.
The client is tracked down for more information, after. Wasn’t hard to find the man with cage over the lower half of his face. Spikes that scream Raider with the way they jut through his clothes.
Fifty caps for the “goddamn no-good thief” that wiped out his stall in the night, taking every last bullet and can of cram. Last seen about two days ago, heading north.
Dead or alive, the client doesn’t care.
“Did you see ‘em?” The Ghoul frowns, “What they look like? Give me somethin’ to go off of.”
“Course I did,” The man huffs, “Looks just like me, don’t he? He’s my own damn brother.”
You can’t contain your own sideways look in disbelief, only to see The Ghoul returning it.
He bargains for a hundred, and gets it.
It’s hard not to wonder if he had taken your bounty this way. If your face had been scrawled across a piece of paper. Exchanged in a no-nonsense, disconnected way.
How much had your life been worth?
You never asked him. It’s something you’re not sure you even want to know.
The rest of the afternoon is spent stocking up. Caps exchanged for some more ammo. A couple bottles of watery chems, shoved deep in his bag to join the others.
A way the ease the cough that rattles him every few days. The smallest bottle kept out, wrenched open with a tight fist.
It snags at you - the way he swallows it like ambrosia the second he steps away. Gasping and groaning as if it’s air he needs to breathe.
“I’m good at medicine,” You tell his back - following again. Memories of the Vault pushing their way to the surface, “Could make that for you, if we find the stuff. Wouldn’t have to dilute it.” You almost run into him, with the way he’s gone still. The tilt of his head, a single sharp eye piercing through you under the brim of a hat.
Shifting over your shoulder. Narrowing.
His hand fists in the collar of your jumpsuit instead, hauling you down the nearest alley and into the shadows.
“Hey!” You protest, your back knocked against the wall. He cages you in, knuckles pressing into your jaw with his tight grip.
The vial is pinched between his fingers, dangled in front of your face.
“You can make this?” He confirms.
You’re able to confirm it now, never quite getting a good look before. RadAway. It would be simple, compared to some of the stuff you’d had to cook up.
“Get me to a lab, some supplies,” You nod, “And I will.”
“Huh.” He’s close - you can’t help squirming in his grip, as he considers you, “Ain’t that something.”
A second, before his grip eases - but he doesn’t let go. Your bound fists rest against his chest, but there’s no force behind them to drive him off.
“Could’ve just asked.” You huff, “You don’t have to man-handle me.”
He almost smiles - his voice coming low, with a tilt of his head.
“Don’t I?”
It flusters you, how his body presses against yours. Your heartbeat kicking up a notch, your chest brushing his with each short breath.
His thumb sweeps, ghosting against your skin. Those sunken eyes dropping to your collar, with a frown.
Another glance down the aisle, before they’re dragging over you - voice lowering.
“Need to get you out of this suit.”
His words make stiffen in his arms, a sharp inhale of anticipation.
“Not so smart, are you?” He husks, his gaze dragging from your parted lips, up to your eyes, “Runnin’ around like this. Downright advertising you’re a Vaultie, when someone’s lookin’ for you.”
He’s not wrong. He tracked you down easily enough. You nod is small, a pang of regret as his fingers drop - as he steps away.
“Come on, then. I know a place.”
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The place is an old saloon, the windows blasted out over two centuries ago. The gutted insides filled out with a patched-up bar, the mended tables and scattered chairs filled with patrons. Rooms to rent lining the first - and second floor - if you were brave enough to risk the staircase.
A few stalls set up alongside a wall - a barber ran by a Mister Handy with a looping stutter, the second by another Ghoul. Her few racks are filled with a patchwork of fabric, all in stained and faded patterns.
He gestures, a tilt of his head at the racks, “Pick something out, quick like.”
You’d gape at him, if you weren’t afraid he’d change his mind. Serious about your suit - you’re quick to grab a shirt in your size with only two holes. A pair of trousers, a rip at the knee.
“This ain’t for you.” The Ghoul clarifies darkly in your ear, “This is a trigger-happy town. Don’t need to be wasting my bullets.”
You hum in agreement - undeterred by his tone. The package clutched to your chest as he hands over a couple caps. Stuck over a full two weeks now in the same suit - you’re itching for the soft cotton against the skin.
Turning to leave, but then you’re halting. A couple of the patrons look familiar, hovering just inside the door. Something about that scar-
You’re trying to recall, in the crowd of people you’ve seen today - when a hand clamps down on your shoulder. Wheeling you around as the Ghoul turns to the shop owner.
“You got a room she can borrow?” There’s a change in his tone, almost a sticky-sweet edge to his drawl.
It must work - you’re shown to what used to be an old parlor room. An array of broken chairs, a heavy wooden table. The wallpaper torn and faded, the shades of cream long stained a dull, dirty yellow.
He fills the doorway - an arm propped against the frame, and you hold your wrists out to him dutifully.
You’ve worked at the knots before, to no avail - only to scowl now, as he undoes them easily with one hand.
A moment of silence hanging then, as you give him a pointed look - rubbing at sore wrists.
“You gonna leave so I can change?” You ask, “I’ll just be a second.”
The Ghoul steps forward instead, pulling the door shut behind him. An audible click, as he thumbs at the lock.
“Oh, I don’t think so, darlin’.”
A heat flares to life in your cheeks, “You’re staying?”
“That’s right,” He sinks into an old loveseat, propped up on concrete blocks near the boarded-up window, “Can’t leave you alone in a place like this. Fuckin’ vultures would swoop right in.”
You hesitate, watching him warily as an arm slings across the back, legs stretched out against the floor. If you didn’t know better then you think it was something almost akin to concern in his tone.
Or then again - he might just want to keep your bounty to himself. You had hoped you were past that, but-
“What?” His tongue pokes at his cheek, tone taunting, “Gettin’ shy again?”
The clothes are dropped unceremoniously on the table, your Pip-Boy following. A glare, as you reach for the zipper of your Vault Suit, starting to yank it down.
“Hey, now.” His hand raises, “Slowly. Got it?”
There’s an immediate urge to resist, to test him - but then, you’re catching the look on his face.
It’s hungry, beneath the brim of his hat. You start to feel like you did in the desert, and then the alley - intrigue, and desire, and an ache from his words, all melding together.
So, you take it slow. The zipper slipping from your throat, to breasts, then belly. A roll of your shoulders as you slip your arms from the tight sleeves.
His eyes follow, lingering on each inch of bare skin that’s revealed.
“Turn around.” He growls when you reach your hips, and for him - you do.
Bending at the waist as you unlace your boots and step out of them. Back arched as you wiggle, pushing the suit down past your knees. Down soft legs that part, so you can step out of them.
A glance over your shoulder, then. His head tilts, eyes sweeping from your ankles to fix on the crux of your thighs. They press together on their own, a thrill at being on display for him.
He catches you looking, his hand lazy as it drops to his lap. A lift of his hips as he adjusts, palming himself. The other hand leaving the revolver shotgun that rests on the cushion next to him.
Crooking two fingers at you, silently beckoning you over.
You fit between thighs that inch wider. His hands curl on his lap, before he’s slowly peeling his gloves off. Warm, against your hips, biting into your skin.
“Don’t make ‘em like you above ground anymore,” He idly comments, a flatness to his tone that betrays nothing.
Soft and smooth skin. You wonder if he’s thinking about ruining it - sinking his teeth in and taking a bite. Leaving a mark that you’ll carry.
You think you’d let him.
His grip dents your skin, before his hands are dropping. A heated look thrown your way, as his face tips up to yours.
“Why don’t you show me again,” He husks, “What you’re so good at.”
Your breath catches - eyes flicking warily towards the door, but he’s quick to call you back.
“Hey, now. Eyes over here.” The Ghoul snaps, “You need to worry ‘bout me more than anyone out there.”
It sends a heat rushing through you, knowing that he’s right. You’re locked in a room with the most dangerous man in the city, and it does something to you.
A boldness, in the way you reach behind. His growled out “fuck” when you let bra loosens - joining the blue and yellow suit on the floor.
The wood is rough under your knees. Letting your hands wander, lifting his hips while your work open his belt. Drawing down the rusted zipper.
You grasp at his hips, tugging the faded fabric until he’s free. Fingers tracing over thighs, just as rough and reddened at the rest of him. It’s still not much, but it’s more of him than you’ve ever seen.
Bare beneath the stained pants, cock already thick and full where it curves against his hip. All from just watching you - perhaps a strange thing to be proud of, but fuck, you are.
Your hands curl around his knees, as your head dips. Taking more time than you did before. Lips pressing against the taut base, as a hand twists in your hair again.
“Come on and thank me, sweetheart.” He growls - urging you upward, “Gettin’ those clothes for you. Make it worth my while.”
It’s different this time. A familiarity in the way your tongue presses against the flushed head. The taste of the salt on your tongue, before your lips are part around him.
A soft groan, when he’s filling your mouth again. You’ve thought about it often since last time. Wondering when he would have you on your knees again. If he’d want more, the next.
Your heartbeat thuds between your thighs, with the shift of his hips into your mouth - chasing his pleasure.
An urge to make him feel good. Without thinking - your hand wraps around his shaft, as your head eases back.
“Easy, now.” He grits, though his eyes are fixed on how your fingers curl around him. How it pumps, squeezing him with spit-slick fingers.
Jerking him into a mouth that parts so prettily for him. Your other hand slipping against his thigh, with feather-light brushes. A short inhale before you take him deep again, your fist sliding down to the base.
The next time you pull him from mouth for a breath, drool stringing from his cock to your lips, he hears himself growling out, “Stop.”
You’re being too tender, and he finds that he can’t stand it. Should have kept you bound, like last time.
The Ghoul’s fingers bite into your chin, your mouth glossy from how you swallowed him down.
“I’m taking you this time. Know you’ve been just aching for it.” He husks, his thumb pressing against your lip. Watching your tongue peek out to taste it, “Go on. Get up, and get your ass over to that table.”
Your desire nearly eclipses everything else. Pushing on his thighs for support, crossing the three steps to the side of the table.
“No,” He follows - the gun clattering on the table top, brought over from the couch. His hands at your hips, guiding you until you’re facing the door, “Right here, sweetheart. I’ll be keepin’ watch.”
It has you remembering where you are - that you’re just supposed to be getting changed. Wondering if you should worry that you don’t care - the thought of piping up, having the risk of losing this chance and denying pleasure again has you quickly adapting.
A hand presses at the small of your back insistently, bending you over it. You can feel him against the curve of your ass, sticky against your skin.
“Cross your wrists,” His thighs shift against yours, as you fix your hands that has flattened against the tabletop.
Making it easy for him to grasp at them with one hand - stretching them further, pressing them against the wood as he kicks your thighs further apart.
Leaving you on tip-toe, arched against him.
“Look at you, listening.” He almost coos, with another lazy rock. His cock shifts, fitting between your thighs, nudging against you.
“I think-” You start, but it’s punctuated by a moan, “Think you just like tying girls up.”
“Now you’re gettin’ it,” He drawls, “Though I don’t discriminate. Theres just something ‘bout havin’ you like this-”
The Ghoul leans over you then, his grip tightening. Pinning you firmly between him and the table, unable to do more than squirm as his free hand slips between your thighs, cupping you.
It’s the first time he’s touched you like this, and your muscles string tight - trying not to buck into his palm. Against fingers that rub against your clit, pressing the sticky fabric to your skin.
“Fuck.” He rasps in your ear. Nails bite into your hips, as he tears the fabric down to your thighs.
Coming back to press against your bare cunt, fingers slipping against your folds. You’re unable to help the soft whimper as he parts you, two fingers teasing at your entrance.
“Please,” You whine, as he pets against you. Smearing your slick up to your clit again, his fingers parting just as he reaches it.
His cock presses against your leg, thick and stiff. A roll of his hips until it’s pressed snug against your cunt - jutting between your thighs just below his hand.
“Your pussy is downright leakin for me, sweetheart,” He growls, “You need it that bad?”
You whine, your head turning to look - watching how he arcs over you. That blown-wide look in his eyes again, as you nod.
There’s a split second as his hand leaves you, before it’s cracking down on the meat of your ass. You gasp in shock as you go still beneath him, the pain unexpected and swirling with your heady need.
“Say it out loud,” He barks out, “Tell me just how much.”
Your skin stings, his fingers twitch before he kneads roughly at the flesh - the burn of it akin to way you ache for him.
“I need it,” You keen, “Need your cock. Want you to fuck me-”
The words cut off - a rough hum of approval before he’s lining himself up, a hand curving to grip your hip. The other flexes around your wrist, before he’s driving himself deep with a single, powerful thrust.
Your cry is loud, this time. Low and rough, pushed from your lungs as your pussy makes room for him.
“Fucking christ, you’re tight,” He grunts, unable to help the shallow buck of his hips, “Better than my goddamn dreams.”
It makes you moan - the gritted-out admission not lost on you.
Even with how wet you are, you still feel like you’re stretched wide. An ache radiating through you, sparking to life as he inches out, only to plunge deep again. The table bites into your hips, back arching as he sets a rough rhythm.
The sharp twinge starting to fade, as you begin to accommodate him. Growing accustomed to the heavy weight of him inside you, the steady stroke against your walls that has you starting to clench down around him.
Your breathing grows shorter, faster. Face turning to bury in the curve of your shoulder, muffling the moans that are pushed from you - until his hand is leaving your hip, twisting in your hair with a sharp tug.
Forcing your head back, his grip anchoring you.
“Don’t think so, darlin’. Know you saw those eyes on you,” He’s lost the steady edge to his voice, words turning rough, “Go on, be loud.”
The Ghoul’s hips pound harder, the rough texture of his cock stroking deep. Each sending a current through you, leaving your fingers and toes flexing, aching for just a little bit more.
“Saw you come in with me. Show ‘em who you belong to.”
“Fuck!” You cry, wishing you had a name to scream. Unable to muffle your ragged breath, the moans he pulls from you.
It fills the room, melding with the slick punch of his cock into your wet and needy cunt. Better than before, because his hands are on you now - leaving your hair, blunt nails dragging down your back. Ghosting across your hip, where your skin presses into the wood.
“Touch me.” You beg, again, “Let me touch myself, I can’t-”
His hand withdraws, and you whine - backpedaling. Afraid that he’s going to pull from you, finish himself across your back or your ass for asking.
“Please. Fuck, please. Don’t, I’m so close-”
He groans at your plea through clenched teeth.
Releasing his grip on you, only for his hand to slide to the base of your throat. His other arm looping beneath you as he hauls you against him, flattening against your ribs.
Palming at a soft breast, as you’re pulled up and pressed flushed to his chest.
“Listen to you, miss manners,” He grins - teeth bared, “That’s more like it, honey.”
The bandolier cuts into your skin, the wood into your thighs. And change in the angle that has your cries growing louder as his cock pounds against a soft spot inside you. Warm breath ghosting against your neck, deep rumbling growls in your ear.
Everything fades, growing hazy. His fingers tighten, but not enough to fully choke the air from you. An implication - your own hands wrapping around his wrist to anchor yourself to him. 
You can hear him inhale you, the scrape of teeth against your skin above the heavy press of his fingers. Salvation in the way the hand splayed beneath your chest drifts lower, his voice smooth in your ear.
“This is for listening,” He husks, “You understand?”
Relentless, when his fingers press against your clit. Slick and circling until you’re grinding into his touch, meeting the hard slap of his hips.
The gasping chant of “fuck, fuckfuckfuck,  please-” turning into mindless whimpers, his rough rhythm growing sloppy.
“Goddamn, you feel good.” It’s a ragged sigh, “Feel your tight little cunt squeezing me. Gonna make a mess, sweetheart?”
It sounds muted, layering with a ringing white noise. Your nails bite into his wrists as the swiftly building tides breaks. Almost missing the sweet growl in your ear.
“Let them hear how a pretty thing like you sounds coming on a cock like mine.”
You do, with the next swirl of his rough fingers - the sound broken as he rips it from you.
Bearing down around the cock that fits so deeply into you, with each blissful pulse of your release. Forgetting about the rest - about the outside world - as your nerves alight with pleasure.
His hand drops from your throat to brace against the table. Bending you flat again as he feels you flutter and gush around his length, crushing you against the top as blunt teeth close against the pulse point of your throat, biting down.
The sounds of his own orgasm muffled - a ragged groan as his cock throbs, as he fucks himself deep into you. Tasting the salt of your skin as you yelp, clenching around him - milking him until your walls are coated with his spend.
He hadn’t meant to - but the urge to pull from you had wavered the moment he buried himself in your cunt. Abandoned completely, after feeling you come so sweetly around him. An instinct lingers even now - to enjoy the soft press of your body against his, your warmth.
You shiver as his lips brush your neck, the closest thing to an apology as you’ll get - before he’s pulling away from you, leaving you clenching and empty.
A ragged hand slips between your thighs as you prop yourself up on your elbows, catching your breath. Pleasure still radiating from your core as fingertips swipe through the come that is just starting to leak from you.
“Fuck, sweetheart,” He laughs - the sound ragged, with a flash of yellowed teeth.
“Guess this means you better start cookin’.”
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The Vault Suit is left beneath the table, a crumpled up reminder that you’re happy to leave behind.
Your cheeks burn as you leave the saloon - the strangers from before cleared out. A definite wobble to your steps - something that The Ghoul certainly notices, the low tilt of his hat hiding the curling pull of his lips.
Outlining the path towards the next bounty as you find your way out, guessing where you might find a lab along the way.
And it’s only as the city starts to fade, that you realize -
He never bound your wrists again, after.
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I have the brainrot for this man for sure! Thank you for stopping by & reading 💖 (and I have also been reading so much about the new chem the Ghoul takes! For plot & smut reasons - I am going with RadAway, haha)
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yawnderu · 2 months
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>Being invited to have sex on camera was never in Simon's plans or Part II of Simon being obsessed with a pornstar.
Half-lidded brown eyes struggle to focus on you, shivers running down his spine at image in front of him. You're riding his meaty, long cock on your feet, the sounds of your ass slapping against his thighs and your wet cunt mix in, forming a symphony he's never heard before.
His rough, calloused hands guide you up and down, feeling his numb nuts getting stickier as your cream leaks down his cock, perfect, pierced tits bouncing up and down right in front of his face. His eyes drift to the set up of cameras in different angles, all of them being displayed on a large TV as you record.
“Fuck, angel...” Simon grunts out, muscles bulging as he squeezes your pretty waist, trying his best not to cum yet despite how your experience mixes in with the desire, fucking him nice and hard, your hands using his hard chest as support.
He's barely lucid enough to push you off of his dick, registering your expression of surprise when he positions you in all fours, one of his warm hands coming up to make your back arch, getting a better look at your sopping, slutty cunt.
“Give 'em a good show.” He whispers only for you to hear, voice dripping with dominance. This is all he ever wanted; the chance to prove he could fuck you way better than any of your co-stars, better than any of the many people he's seen you fuck on social media.
His grip tightens on your waist, slamming into your needy cunt without a warning. He manages to catch the surprise on your pretty face first-hand, a small smirk forming beneath the mask when he sees you give the camera your trademark smile. Simon doesn't hold back, his thrusts aggressive and unrelenting, the natural curve of his cock hitting your spongy cervix in such a perfect angle that you're not even able to follow your regular dialogue.
“Harder...” You manage to moan out, a sharp gasp leaving your lips the moment the intensity in his thrusts builds up, becoming faster and more erratic. His hand snakes around your pretty throat, applying just enough pressure to add an extra edge of pleasure.
“Yeah...? Like that?” He growls in your ear, his voice low and thick with desire. You can barely nod your head, your hand coming up to hold his tattooed arm as he chokes you, holding you even closer to his imposing, burly body, his grip possessive and demanding. He can feel your walls tightening up around him, louder moans escaping your fucked-out body that only seem to encourage you to go harder.
“That's right, sweetheart...” Despite not being a porn actor, Simon's words contain a hint of affection that can't be denied by either of you, only making the tight knot in your stomach come undone. Your long nails grip the sheet, feeling the familiar sensation on your core before you're cumming all over his cock, coating every single inch in your needy juices.
Simon's thrusts become more intense when he realizes you're cumming, fully lost in the primal need to drag out your orgasm as he fucks you raw with pure hunger.
“Show 'em how much you love being fucked.” His hand drifts up to your jaw, applying light pressure and lifting your head up, making sure that your audience gets a perfect look at your face when you have a real orgasm for the first time on camera.
With his own words as the catalyst, Simon follows close after, his release washing over him with the intensity of a tidal wave, shooting ropes of thick, hot cum deep inside you.
Part I | Part III
taglist: @gazsdirtysocks @infpt-zylith @love-simon @chrishy973 @just-another-personal-side-blog @ghosmooth-operator @b100dr0t @bisky-business @watersquirtpewpewboomm @li85367 @thenonweeknd @jamesrifftapes @lastofabbyy @xxshadowbabexx @yumimak @cherryblossomandpeace @kodiackwrites @angelaut0matec @fell4fictionalman @winbinw
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fruitgoat · 1 year
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I wrote three really good paragraphs. Then I inhaled a bowl of cheep ramen. (I've felt a little off, extra worried I was/am getting sick, and maybe kinda have barely eaten for days.) Now it's 2am. And I'm actually sleepy. I can go to bed now.
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merakidoll · 6 months
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— age gap / best friend’s mom trope
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connie was guilty for many things. having a love for quick things, like the way of living, or money. he was guilty of having such an strong love for fast cars, and dying his hair. but he had never thought to add falling for his best friend’s mom on the list.
neither knew how they had grown to like one another other so much. how they grew desperate for each other’s company, or touches. even kisses, and god did they love that. they both had voices screaming to stop- how this would turn out to be a terrible situation. voices that told you the age gap was too much, he wasn’t ready for things that you were. but he always proved you wrong.
now you layed in a heart shaped bed, in the never sleeping Las Vegas where you both had just shared i do. one step closer to connie being adamant on filling you with his seed. his daughter.
“take s-some outuhhh!” you gritted through your teeth pushing at the tattooed abdomen. your cunt clenched around him, cream falling out of you at just the sight of the red ink tattoo with your name right where the thing that kept him living beat. “you got it. your a big girl mama” fully entering you with one stern pump, he sat still using the pad of his thumb and swiping your red lipstick lips before kissing you hard.
hunger was behind the kiss. it was so powerful that you couldn’t help but moan, his lips sucking on your tongue then pulling back quickly with heavy breaths. you two just started into each other eyes, no words but loving looks- all until connie abruptly put two fingers in your mouth and started to fuck you hard.
“s-suck em. show me how you suck on my dick” he watched your every move throwing his head back when your tongue swirled around the tattooed digets, spit dripping down his knuckles. “mmm just like fuckin that” he praised you, balls slapping against your ass and fingers going deeper into your mouth until her heard your gags.
the roughness did something to your body, it drove you wild so mucb that you began to bob your head, spit gather in the bands of your new commitment of till death do you part. “y-your mine, shit m-maaa!” you stared at how he was starting to slow down, his hips never stoping its speed but just growing sloppy from him being close.
your eyes rolled to the back of your head clenching around one good time before your squirt got all over connie. he was slowly losing the toughness, your pussy only getting wetter and tighter that he had to quickly romve his fingers and stuff his face into your neck, whining from how good everything was feeling.
his pierced - sensitive nipples rubbing against your hot skin making him sigh from shock. his cock let out ropes upon ropes of seamen, that was for sure impregnating you. while all of that was happening, your rubbed your now husband giving his soft loving kisses. so often containing a moan from how full you were feeling.
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Dear Heart and Gentle People 3
Summary: It's been a couple of months since you've seen your ghoul. Neither of you expects to cross paths in the Mojave.
Pairings: The Ghoul | Cooper Howard x Female Reader
Warnings. Some heavy putting and kissing here. Alcohol as well, i guess exhibitionist behavior?
Part 4 -> HERE
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Freeside is one of the largest and relatively safest cities that Cooper has been to in his two hundred years on this cursed Earth. People still try to kill him, what's new, but this place has tall stone walls and well-meaning gangs that patrol the broken streets. The Kings make him huff and twist his lips as nostalgia hits him like a deathclaw.
The only bar in town is called The Atomic Wrangler, and Cooper castes his gazes across the bar and stage before he turns to the twins who own the establishment. They introduce themselves as Francsine and James Garrett, and Cooper tilts his hat in a greeting and orders a stiff drink.
Several hours later, he sits at a table, legs extended and pleasantly drunk as he laughs with the other patrons of the bar at the comedian on stage. He makes a sound of confusion when a shadow suddenly falls upon him, and then there is a smoothskin blocking his view. The curse that bubbles falls to the wayside when he looks up and realizes that it's not just any smoothskin. It was his.
You smile down at the Ghoul, that familiar amused quirk of your lips that Cooper hadn't realized he'd missed so much. So much had changed since the last time he had seen you, that this almost felt like meeting you for the first time all over again. Coop blinked up at you, jaw dropping as you step between his open legs, and proceeded to sit in his lap.
"Fancy meeting you here, cowpoke," you say, and despite his brain being soaked in alcohol, Cooper wasn't a complete fucking idiot. His hands find your hips and drag you close, manhandling you until you sit pressed flush to his front, your core already hot and pulsing with need. His cock throbs in his pants, and Coop bucks forward, a quiet sigh of pleasure escaping him at the friction.
"I'm too drunk for pillow talk, baby," the ghoul rumbles and his hands find your ass, massaging the globes harshly, and ruts up in a slow grind against your covered cunt. He finds your eyes, licks his teeth, and dives in to bite along the collom of your throat. He trails up your jaw and then your cheeks, lingering there as he hisses in your ear.
"Better get me outta here before I fuck you in front of all thae people. Give 'em a real show."
Your thighs quake at the dark promise, and you have to really think to yourself. Would anyone notice? Would anyone care?
Cooper watches your reaction, and a slow, evil grin creeps along his face. One hand leaves your ass and slides around, his thumb slipping between the apex of your legs and rubbing against your clothed clit. The pressure has you cursing quietly and falling forward, your face resting in the crook of the ghoul's neck. He laughs, rough and deep in your ear.
"You'd like that, wouldn't you, Darlin'. You'd want to show everyone in here just who you fuckin belong to."
You hiss through your teeth, already feeling like you're at the end of the rope. You hump against his hand, wanting to come so badly it hurts. Cooper goes back to sucking dark marks into your flesh, teeth nipping harshly, and it takes an embarrassingly quick time for you to tip over the edge.
Cooper swallows your whine with a kiss, shoving his tongue past your lips and tasting the nuka and rum you'd had earlier. He keeps you close as you come down from your high, kissing you until you have to push yourself away from him.
You already look fucked out, but Coop isn't nearly done with you, and tucks his arms under your ass and stands from his seat. He marches to the bar, where James hands him a key to the corner room upstairs without a word.
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briefalpacashark · 2 months
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~A little brawl~
You decide to show case a bit of your skill to stamp out the ego of a new solider. And you get in trouble.
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You and your team were posted to some random desert somewhere to complete a mission. Having already done so you were gifted with a few days of rest before your transport back home arrived. Price was loving the time off reclined in a dingy old fold out chair that looked on the verge of breaking. A cigar pinched between his teeth and a cold beer in the other hand. His hat sat over his face.
“Working hard or hardly working?” You asked with a grin walking up to him a pile of reports tucked under your arm. 
“Can't you tell?” he asked gesturing to himself. 
“Medical reports you were after,” with a grunt he sat up taking the reports from you.
“So how are the boys?” he asked.
“Honestly don't know how long you guys survived without a medic,” you shock your head in bewilderment. 
“Where are they anyway, haven't seen em all morning,” you said.
“Oh, the little shites are playing with their new friends,” he jabbed his chin across the ways where a small group of soldiers had formed. Once you had finished business with Price you walked over, interested in whatever was happening. Spotting Ghost a head taller than the rest you made your way to his side. The acknowledgment that you had arrived was simply a sideways glance.
“What's going on here?” You asked as your eyes settled on a makeshift ring, its outline defined by a stray circle of rope set on the ground. A ring where Gaz currently was getting his ass handed to him. Your grimaced as his opponent landed a powerful hit. On the other side of the ring stood the team you had been working alongside. A group of grad A assholes.  An American team.
“Wanna place a bet?” Soap asked taking a sip of his beer stepping up to your other side.
“I hate to be honest, but Gaz doesn't look like he'll win this fight,” You chuckled under your breath.
“Oh we khen that. We bettin on how long he’ll last,” Soap stated with a grin. All your attention was brought back to the ring when the fight ended with basically a knockout. Money was passed around as you and the boys slipped into the ring helping Gaz to his feet and gently hauling him out. Sitting him down you tried to hide your smirk as you woke him up with a few gentle slaps on the cheek.
“What happened?” he asked.
“You just got ya ass handed to ya by an American,” Soap was far to entertained by the fact. 
“Follow my finger,” You ordered Gaz checking for a concussion. 
"Alright aright come on my turn," a young cocky bloke from the other term stepped into the make shift ring. He had been a constant annoying fly that seemed to hand around you. You had politely declined his advances. More than once. You though he got the point, after all he had left you alone for a bit.
"Come on Jimmy!" his squad encouraged him. Jimmy was his name.
"Whos it gonna be?” the soldiers all asked. 
"How about the bitch of 141?" he asked nodding to you. Your teams smiling faces dropped as the atmosphere did a one sixty. You pressed your lips together. 
“I'm good thanks,” you waved dismissively. 
“Huh, that's fine. What can you expect from you lot anyway,” he chuckled. You lot? The insult was weak, but it was there.
"Watch your mouth private," Soap's tone showed how quickly his patience for the other squad was becoming.
“Fuck off Pom, or come settle it in the ring,” Jimmy was a cocky young bloke. And little was known about the 141. so, he didn't really understand what he was offering. Well, the severity of it.
“Pom!?” Soap exclaimed in shock. Calling a Scots man British was just about the worst thing you could do. At that very moment Soap looked like he was about to rip the head of the poor lad.
“You know what, why not?’ you asked cheerfully patting Soaps shoulder as you passed him, gently pushing his back to Ghost.
“Look out, her she comes. Anybody got a set of gloves on them. Wouldn't want to catch whatever she's spreading. After all her teammates seem very fond of her,” You wondered where he got to gal of it all. Possibly little dog syndrome.
“Hey man, for your own benefit I would shut the fuck up,” Gaz words of wisdom were swept to the side. Unacknowledged by the confident young solider.
"What you got what she got?" he smriked.
Soap took a step forward only to be stopped when you held out your arm to stop him.
“Come on Soap. Rember what Price said. We need to play nice with the little new soldiers,” the team was barely out of training. It was maybe there third real mission. And Price had told you all to behave.
“You sure you wanna do this?” Soap asked with a little hit of worry as he glared down Jimmy. 
"I can look after myself Jonny. Plus, someone's gotta curve this kids' ego," you joked unbuttoning your outer shirt.
"You have faith in me right Ghost?" you asked half jokingly.
"Haven't see it personally but I believe you could take me down. So this fucker aint got a chance," he shrugged simply his tone serious. You propped an eyebrow at him. You didn't know he felt that way. You were sort of chuffed. After all Ghost was good in a hand to hand combat situation.
"Wow Ghost, didn't know you felt that way about me," You joked with a wink. You didn't stay to see his reaction as you stepped into the ring those watching letting out cheers. 
"Looks like your used to that," Jimmy muttered as you undressed your outer layer, his eyes resting shamelessly on your chest.
"What are the rules?" you asked shaking your jacket off. Everyone was surprised at the amount of muscle you had. Your frame was small but toned. Plus your team had never really seen your body. Soap let out an impressed whistle at your bear arms.
"Everything goes. No one kills and you tap out when you're done," Jimmy said rising his fists as he smirked.
"What about breaking bones?" you asked throwing your jacket to the side and rolling your shoulders. Your opponent was slightly put off with how calm you were.
"I don't know about breaking, but I've sure got one bone for you,” he winked his statement earning chuckles from his team. You looked your opponent up and down, he was pretty, but not your type. 
“I'm flattered but I don't have my magnifying glass on me right now,” This time your own team chuckled. You smirked slightly reaching behind you to take your phone out of your pocket. You had looked down to find a place to throw it. An explosion of pain snapped to your right cheek sending you stumbling. 
“Slut,” You straightened up feeling the coppery taste fill your mouth. He had punched you; he hadn't waited till the little bell had rung. A deep chuckle left you lips as you gathered the blood in your mouth and spit it to the side. Slut, you hated that word.
“The fuck was that!” Soap yelled in anger only being held back by Ghost. Why, because he had full confidence in what you were about to do.
“We hadn't started yet,” you chuckled rage bubbling inside you.
“Everything goes,” he shugged.
“Yeah, everything goes,” you nodded. Now you were a calm person, you were reasonable and rational. But the guy in front of you was cocky. And you so wanted to repay his for every unwanted advance he put forth.
You stalked forward your eyes narrowing in at him, then as you stepped right up to him you let lose. It was so quick he was barely able to throw up a block. Your fist cracked into his nose with such precision and speed that he fell back onto his ass. In a daze he stumbled back to his feet as you shock out your hand. He had a hard head. 
“Get em Love!” Soap cheered for you.
He threw a wild hay maker to which you simply ducked under. Delivering another punch you aimed for his kidney. The hit crippled him, he fell to one knee. Taking his head in hand you brought it down onto your knee. You weren't a violent person, but you knew how to end a fight quickly. After all it was those skill that kept you alive. And while you never took any pleasure in it you felt a slight tingle of satisfaction.
Pushing him back you gave him a minute to breathe through the daze.
“Tapping out?” You asked. He looked like he wanted to. His anger flared at the sympathetic look you gave him. At how quickly you had managed to beat him. And how pathetic he looked because of it.
“To a slut like you?” he asked stabling to his feet. He was in no position to fight. You almost felt bad for what you had done.
“Come on mate, you can barely stand. Let's call it a day yeah?” you were happy to keep going, but you were actually worried for the boy now. 
“Fuck you,” he seethed. Your forced a smile.
“Well then I'm tapping out,” you said tapping your thigh. You didn't want to continue, and you thought that would be the end of it. So, you turned your back to them. So, you didn't see the coward punch Jimmy threw. You didn't see it heading for your head. What you did see was a mass of black crowd your vision. Ghost had appeared Infront of you. You frowned as his arm shoot past your head, seeming to catch something. At the quick movement you jerked around following his arm to see he had caught the punch inches from your head. In one swift movement Ghost had swept you behind him as he twisted the man hand in painful position.
“Now that was just plane stupid,” Ghost stated as Jimmy cried out dropping to his knees at the pressure. In an instant both squads were at each others throats, yelling and throwing insults.
“You alright love?” Ghost voice broke through the commotion as he back over his shoulder at you while he still held the man in the hand lock.
“Y-Yeah,” you nodded.
“Keep your bitch on a leash!” Someone from the other team yelled. 
“I'll put ye in a leash!” Soap snapped. Thats all that was needed. After that all hell broke loose.
So, there you sat. back in your own base tent that you shared with the boys. You were all lined up in a row. You and Soap sat in the middle the widest grins on your busted up faces. The insults throw quickly resulted in a brawl. One you had originally tried to break up before getting caught up in it. Ghost sat on the other side of you, his mask covering some of the hits he took. Gaz sat on the other side of Soap shaking his head at the two of you. 
Price stood in front of you all an angry expression on his face. 
Do you remember in school when you would look at your best friend and just randomly start laughing. Well, that's what happened to you when you peeked at Soap out the corner of your eye. You both broke out into laugher that sounded strangled as you tried to keep it in.
“I can't even leave you unsupervised for one fucking second,” Price pinched the bridge of his nose.
“They started it,” Soap interjected.
“Shut up,” Price snapped. Soap ducked his head his smirk widening.
“He tried to get her when her back was turned,” Ghost stated nodding down to you.
“Well, still did you have to beat the shit out of them?” Price words brought proud smirks to all your faces. Compared to the four of you the other team looked to be just out of commission. In the end you all delt worse than you were given.
“They were talking shit. Had to set them straight,” Gaz explained with a shrug.
“I understand that, but all I'm asking for is a little self-control. I mean who put that lads head through that brick wall?” Price put and emphasis on the word brick. You all turned to Ghost who had personally express delivered Jimmy's head to the other side of the wall. Under the attention Ghost simply shrugged and looked away. 
“You're all on tent arrest,” Price declared. You all groaned and began to protest slightly. 
“Enough!” he snapped.
“This is what happens. When you misbehave you get privileges taken away,” You and Soap once again tried to hold back your laughter. It was like he was scolding a group of toddlers.
“And your two smart asses are on clean up duty,” he declared pointing to the two of you.
“Ha,” Gaz chuckled.
“Fucking kids,” Price grumbled as he walked away. There were a few moments of silence as you all came to terms with the consequences you faced.
“That was defiantly worth it,” you stated.
"Defiantly," - Gaz
"Fuck yeah," - Soap
"Should have done worse," - Ghost.
Another moment of silence passed around you before you all chuckled softly. You could even see Ghost shoulder shake slightly. You looked up to him with a thankful smile.
"Thank you," you whispered. To your utter shock and bewilderment he glanced down at you.
AND WINKED!
"Anytime love," he stated before getting up and walking away. Leaving you to wonder if what you had seen was an illusion or not.
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--COD Master List Here--
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undeadcannibal · 10 months
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imagine one of the Fem! rookies getting lil skeleton hands tattooed on her hands, and ghost just-
*INSTANT BONER*
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Summary: Ghost can’t help but be turned on when he notices the Recruits’ new tattoos. Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley/Reader
Genre: One-shot, request(s) Word count: 1,138
Warnings: Mature rating, mention(s) of sexual acts.
A/N: Ooh, I had fun with this one, Anon. Was tempted to turn it into a full fic, but figured I’d be an asshole and tease y’all since I write tons of smut otherwise. Whoops! Anywho, thank you so much for the request, Anon. I hope y’all enjoy it~ Also, I apologize if this has a lot of mistakes. I’ve been slammed with allergies, mental stuff, and work, so I’m all sorts of fucked lol. ( Gif credit: xxx )
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Ghost paid little mind to most of the rookies they trained. At least, he had before until he'd met you a few months back. Price had mentioned to 141 he was interested in possibly having each of them bring some new recruits under their wing to help show them the ropes. He figured if anyone could get any of them ready, it'd be his boys. Each of them eventually had someone signed to them to help train. Ghost's recruit certainly was interesting, to say the least. 
John had figured with Ghost being more reserved than the rest of the group, it might be easier if he had a recruit that kept to themselves more than the rest. He was thankful for that. The less he had to worry about babysitting, the better. Thankfully, that never seemed to be the case with the recruit Price had assigned to him. 
You went by the call sign Mouse. 
At first, he'd assumed it was for your small stature, but after he'd heard whispers from the others, he quickly realized it was due to your specialty for silence and speed. Apparently, you were just as quiet as you were quick in your fieldwork. That he could appreciate. Yet, aside from that, he didn't know much about you even after weeks of training together. 
Aside from learning the truth behind your call sign, he'd also come to notice that - surprisingly - you were covered in numerous tattoos.
Every time the two of you sparred together, he found himself discovering a new tattoo he hadn't seen before or a blank spot that had yet to be filled with ink. 
Eventually, somewhere around the two-month mark, he found himself asking you about them after a successful session. You'd finally managed to break out of a particular grapple you were struggling with thanks to the size difference between you two. However, Ghost refused to relent until you'd gotten the hang of it. Your enemies wouldn't play fair if they towered over you, so he had to prepare you for any sort of outcome to give you the best chance of survival possible. Still, that didn't mean he was so strict as to not celebrate the small victories. 
As the two of you were hydrating after training, he'd found it in him to comment on your tattoos for whatever reason. 
"Noticed you had a blank spot there." He'd comment, glancing down at the blank space of flesh on your hands. It'd surprised him to see your arms covered yet you still had yet to choose something for them. Maybe you didn't care for hand tattoos, he wondered... 
"Have any plans for 'em?" 
You paused in bringing your water bottle to your lips, pursing them as you hummed softly. Seemingly debating on how to answer his question. 
"Mm, yeah... I've got a few ideas in mind for them, but have yet to settle on anything yet." 
He was content to leave it at that had it not been for your next response. 
"I've got a few ideas in mind but haven't settled on anything just yet. Tell you what though, when I do get those spots filled in, you'll be the first one I show them to." 
By the time that'd happened, it'd been a few months later and he'd pretty much forgotten the interaction until he'd bumped into you again on his way out for a smoke break. You'd stopped to say hi and chat for a bit before he suddenly saw your eyes widening. A giddy smile broke out on your face shortly afterward. 
"Oh, I nearly forgot!" Raising the sleeves of your long sleeve top, you also quickly rid yourself of those pair of gloves he often saw you wearing. "Check out the new tattoos I got while I was back home." 
With your forearms and hands bare to him, he could see the fresh, black ink now covering the spaces on your appendages that previously clear soft skin. 
The moment he realized what the tattoos were, Simon was thankful for the strait-laced control of his reactions. Certain if he wasn't so strict with himself that he'd be giving off numerous micro-expressions showing his interest in your new pieces. 
Of all the tattoos you had to get, it just had to be a stylistic representation of your wrists and hands skeletal system. 
Rationally, he understood that the new set of ink likely had no meaning behind it - most of his own didn't - but a smaller, possibly more primal part of him wanted to puff up his chest. Preen at the thought of everything you could have chosen, it was something similar to the gloves he often wore himself. Only much more permanent. And attractive. 
Fucking hell, he was down bad over something that meant nothing at all. 
Just so he didn't break down and smile, Ghost took a long and deep drag of his cigarette before exhaling the entirety of the smoke from his lungs. Watching the vapors dissipate entirely before finally having it in him to look at you once again. 
"How'd you do during the fingers and knuckles?" 
You laughed sweetly and softly, causing him to feel an odd sense of pride in being the cause behind that laughter. Especially when he took notice of the way your cheeks appeared even softer and rounder than usual as you did so. 
Eyes down, soldier. Look at the tattoos, not her damn squishable cheeks. 
Watching you wiggle your fingers in his direction, you grinned up at him cheekily. 
"Pain comes with the territory. Besides, I kinda enjoy that type of pain, and it's also a hell of a lot cheaper than therapy." You joked. 
Simon felt like a pitiful man when he felt the familiar stirring of arousal deep within his lower belly shortly after. His mind already drifting towards mental images of you down on your knees before him. Opening his pants just so you could wrap those tattooed fingers around the base of his cock. Stroke him till he grew hard and began to twitch within your palms. Eventually - given your permission - he'd paint the dark ink with his release, claiming you in a way and--
He needed to stop his thoughts before he began to spiral down the rabbit hole that was his sudden lewd thoughts that came on with your new tattoos. 
He was going to need another cigarette as soon as he finished his first one. 
Clearing his throat, Simon glanced at you with dilated, bright eyes. 
"They look good on you, kid." 
Even if he wouldn't admit it aloud, Ghost secretly saw it as a secret bond between the two of you.
Now, you had a permanent mark of his favorite pair of gloves on your body.
The thought alone turned him on much more than he'd ever thought possible. 
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garoujo · 1 year
Text
SOMEONE ASKS IF YOU’RE SINGLE DURING THEIR Q&A LIVE — BLUE LOCK
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feat : nagi seishiro, bachira meguru, itoshi rin, itoshi sae + mikage reo
♱ warnings — sfw! fluff, a little making out in bachira + reo’s, protective babies, all characters written as pro players. / note. pls i can’t get this idea out of my mind < 3 !
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・✶ 。゚ NAGI SEISHIRO
it wasn’t nagi’s idea, but he’d end up roped into doing one with bachira and reo for the team, even though he’s barely visible in the frame and too lost in the video game he’s playing on his phone — happily letting the other two carry the conversation.
but that doesn’t mean his fans weren’t paying attention to him, infact they were watching closely enough for them to be able to see the way his eyes only left his phone screen in favour of looking over at you.
nagi’s gaze is soft as you enter the room and become visible in the background of the live, the viewers watching the way he immediately leans into your touch when you move closer to brush your fingers through his hair. he gives you a gentle “where you going?” because he hopes you’ll stay, as you round the couch to stand beside him — just out of frame.
“ay, nagi! the viewers wanna know if our ultra geniuses s/o is single?” reo smirks at the white-haired striker over his shoulder, something teasing glinting in his gaze when he watches the way his friends lips twist into a pout as his drowsy gaze sharpens.
“huh?” nagi hums before he looks at you, reaching to guide you down onto his lap as he squeezes you underneath his arm. he makes sure you’re buried in his chest so he can respect your privacy — but also keep you as close to him as he always needed you before he’s back to focusing on his game, resting his lips against your temple as he sighs.
“eh, really? obviously not. tell ‘em they’re mine or something, i dunno.” he grumbles, not showing any signs of real irritation despite how tightly he seems to be holding you. but you and reo both know it got to him somewhat considering he was never one to be so open with affection, especially around others.
but reo just laughs before he’s back to entertaining the chat, breaking the ‘bad news’ to them about how you were off the market before you feel nagi press a kiss against your skin, stealing back your attention as you blink up at him and notice the cute little frown on his features.
“eh, im bored now and this is such a pain, course my pretty thing isn’t single.. so bothersome.”
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・✶ 。゚ BACHIRA MEGURU
bachira was doing a q&a live with isagi before they both left for practice while you kept yourself busy in the background, just barely visible in the camera but apparently still enough to grab a few viewers attentions.
you come closer to the frame for a split second to set a shake down on the table for your boyfriend, earning you a smirk from the striker as he lets himself reach for you — wrestling to get you into his lap playfully before he lets you go in exchange for a quick off-frame kiss that makes him laugh.
“is your s/o single?” isagi laughs as he reads out the next message that pops up in the chat, nudging bachira as he drops back down next to him with a smirk that almost looks misplaced given the question. but it’s fast the way he thinks it’s over in his head before he’s grinning even wider and turning to call you back.
“baby! they wanna know if you’re single. cmeer—they’re gonna think they can steal you from me.” he sings, just loud enough for it to grab your attention and draw you back over with a confused sort of look on your face. but just as you get close enough, bachira’s hands are on you before he’s pulling you down onto the couch, still out of frame but it’s obvious your there.
“bachi—“ you gasp as he leans in closer, lips ghosting yours as you sit half pressed onto his lap and the hooded look he gives you almost makes you melt as he grins at you. “we both know that’s not true though, mhm— gotta show ‘em.”
the way bachira kisses you is eager, needy as he lets his tongue press through your lips to swipe along your own and you almost lose yourself in him completely, until you hear isagi awkwardly clear his throat beside you both.
but your boyfriend looks even more smug than usual when he pulls away, a teasing glint in his eyes as he leans forward into the camera, giggling at the disappointed viewers who can’t have you.
“see, all mine. m’kay?”
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・✶ 。゚ ITOSHI RIN
rin had been pulled into doing a q&a with isagi and bachira, answering a few questions from where he’s sat back on the couch. he’s mostly letting the other two take the lead as he props his head up against his palm, clicking his tongue at a few of their answers every so often.
“this one’s for you~” bachira sings as he nudges into his teammate, making him scowl as he jolts before he’s biting his tongue and narrowing his eyes at the smirking striker by his side. “is your s/o single, hm?” his teammate knows it’ll rile him up, but what’s a little fun between players?
rin’s eyes widen slightly before they drop back into a look that’s more lidded, darker as he takes the phone from the table to make sure he’s not just being fucked with right now. but he scoffs when he reads it for himself, mumbling under his breath as he bites on the inside of his cheek “what’s that supposed to mean.”
he shoves the phone back into its normal position when he’s seen what he needed to, leaning back even deeper against the couch as he crosses his arms over his chest. he’s probably not even aware of the pout that’s settled on his lips before he clears his throat to finally speak.
“no, obviously they’re not single.” rin grumbles as the furrow on his brows deepens even more, a subtle undercurrent of possessiveness in his tone before his next words are barely heard under his breath. “they’re mine.” the small act making his cheeks dust as a little pink as he looks away from the camera, although he always seemed to blush when he spoke about you it seems.
he feels a little bad that maybe he wasn’t being too obvious you both were together, considering his instagram really only consisted of a few posts — but most of them were you, maybe he just needed to post you more regularly, his camera roll was full of you afterall.
maybe that’s why he’s a little clingier when he gets home that night, pressing kisses along your jawline as he holds you close.
“you’re mine, all mine.”
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・✶ 。゚ITOSHI SAE
obviously doing a live like this wasn’t exactly sae’s idea, especially when his manager had made him get up early to do it — to leave the comfy safe haven of his bed with you as he sits on your balcony, sipping away at his morning coffee knowing you’re cuddled up without him only a few feet away.
he’s restless, irritable and it’s written all over his face as you tune into his profile — giggling at the bored look on his face as he props his head up against his chin. you can tell he wants nothing more than to leave, he’s only got a few more minutes left.
sae behaves for most of it, maybe it’s because he knows you’re watching — that is until he notices a message pop up in the chat, one that makes you snort, and one that makes him adjust himself in his seat, leaning in closer to reread the text as if hes hoping he imagined it.
is your s/o single? you watch him lean his neck to the side before you hear a faint pop followed by a click of his tongue, and it almost makes you shiver the way his tone remains carefully neutral despite the way his gaze is hooded and dark. “what a stupid question. no, they’re not.”
you’re pretty sure he would’ve gotten worse, but the tension in his shoulders relaxes only slightly when you quickly type out a text that you watch sae read at the top of the screen, before he’s resting back in his chair with a sigh.
he’s in an even worse mood for the rest of the live before you eventually convince him to come back to bed after, giving him a drowsy little smile that makes him breathe out a heavy sigh before he’s crawling back in beside you. he melts into you quickly, immediately as you reach out for him — soothing the tension from his body as you let your palms smooth along his chest.
“i think they got to you.” you giggle, soft and you watch sae’s gaze soften before he speaks. “it was a stupid question though, sweetheart. you’re mine.” he begins, fingertips reaching to lock around your chin before he’s tilting you to face him, his lips pressing chaste against your own before he continues. “aren’t you?”
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・✶ 。゚ MIKAGE REO
it’s nice to hear reo banter and get along with his followers as a pro, he enjoyed giving them a little insight into his life and liked the idea of showing you off whenever you were comfortable with it. it was nice to listen to him, like now after dinner as you preoccupy yourself with your apartment.
“oh?” you hear reo sound from behind you, and if you were to look round you’d see the way his jaw clenches, despite the almost too friendly smirk that’s curling at his lips. is your s/o single? the question draws him forward, makes him chuckle despite the way there’s no real humour to it.
“they’re pretty right? lucky me.” he goads, quietly enough for you not to hear, teases as his smirk seems to curl even wider before he’s calling you over with a dreamy drawl of your name. it catches you off guard the way reo pulls you closer to him, almost pulling you down onto his lap as you send him a questioning look.
“jus’ wanna show them what’s mine, bunny. relax, alright.” he breathes low in your ear, but you see the question just before it’s buried in the chat and you can tell by the way your boyfriend is peppering your jawline in kisses that he’s almost staking his claim, but you let him.
you don’t say anything, not until the lives over and reo’s giving you a hooded look from across the room again as he stands — drawing closer until he can pull you against his chest and relax with the first deep press of his lips against yours.
“you okay?” you murmur as his hands squeeze at your waist, feeling him swallow the syllables as he presses his tongue between your lips, humming before he pulls away to look at you with a dark sort of grin.
“hah, course not. you’re all mine anyway, bunny. right?” you nod quickly at reo’s words before you melt into him once more, letting him kiss you until you’re pliant and putty in his hands. “you gonna show me, yeah?”
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© 2022 garoujo. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.
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Text
She Was Only Ever Mine
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(not my gif)
WARNING: MINORS DNI, smut suggestive ending, jealous!emily, angst, mean!emily, flirty!emily/r, possessive!emily, alcohol consumption, brief mention of firearms, blood, one bed trope
req: So it’s Emily Prentiss x fem!reader and this is one of my first asks so idk if I’ll get picked or wtv but I appreciate your time anyway! :) So, maybe there’s a one bed trope somehow in this? But maybe during a case r and Em have to be roomies :) the team has just finished the case and is out for drinks, r suspiciously keeps getting alerts on her phone which the team is obviously curious about. Basically Emily hates r’s guts and r never figures out why despite her attempts at trying to befriend the woman. Bar after the case and Tara flirts with r because she knows Emily will get jealous and most likely confess
Long fic! Buckle up! (Not my best fic and was rushed pls forgive me)
Emily grumbled as she board the plane. This was absolute nonsense, of course she had to share a one bed hotel room with y/n. The woman was insufferable, smiling and prancing everywhere she went.
No words could describe the dread she felt everyday walking into work and seeing the prissy Princess, thank the Lord JJ would leave a coffee on her desk every morning, though, it’s strange she only started doing it after y/n came on the team..
Emily shook the thought off and continued her last page of paperwork. Signing off on it and pushing it aside. Checking the time she place a few more extra things in her go bag.
Knock. Knock.
“Come in!” The Unit Chief exclaimed, never lifting her eyes from her bag, a certain ‘prissy princess’ popped her head in with a bright smile. “Care for coffee?” she quipped, hoping for a yes, although, deep down, she knew she’d be rejected.
“I wouldn’t be caught dead hanging out with you in public, princess” She had assigned her that nickname the minute she walked through the doors of the BAU. Her demeanor had screamed Disney Princess. Y/n frowned but slapped inside holding two coffee cups, “Thought so, I got you coffee anyways, Wicked Witch of the West” The younger woman smirked, when Emily’s mouth dropped open, “I’ll let you take that one, but I will get you back for that.” She warned, taking a sip of the warm liquid, she hummed in approval, “you know my order…do you stalk me, Princess?” Emily teased, y/n rolled her eyes as she sat down on the chair infront of the chief’s desk. “I wouldn’t dream of it”
—————
“Ugh, why are you so annoying?” The unit chief complained, the Young woman behind her bit her lip to hold back from saying something that could land her at a desk job, “why are you so mean?” Y/n retorted, crossing her arms as she stormed past the woman for what seemed like the 40th time that day. Not even the slightest moment of peace lasted, not when these two were in the same room. JJ and Tara looked at each other and sighed, “y’know, Em, you’ve gotta be nice to her some day” JJ lectured, her motherly tone popping out, Tara followed y/n into the jet.
Lord knows what’ll happen now that Emily and Y/n have to room together.
”Hey, y/n, you okay?” Tara cooed, noticing y/n’s angry gaze and sniffles, “I’m here if you need to talk.” Sitting down she gave the woman a sincere look, Tara had always been kind to her since her arrival at the BAU, even showed her the ropes and policies. “It’s just..I dunno, I’m so frustrated!” she exclaimed, picking at the skin around her nails, “I haven’t done anything to her! At least nothing that I know of”
JJ and Emily entered the jet last and Emily sat quietly next to y/n with an angry look, they both tensed, refusing to look at each other in any way. Clearly both JJ and Tara were weirded out with the tension and moved to the seats next to them, just to give them a little room. The guys were upfront talks about who knows what, while the back was as silent as a mouse. Emily glanced over to seeing y/n looking out the window and picking around the skin around her fingers. The older woman hated to admit it but she felt bad, she always did, but being the stubborn woman she was, never apologized, at least verbally.
Placing a soft hand on y/n thigh, she gave it a little squeeze as an ‘I’m sorry.’ Looking at the hand, y/n only scoffed, “Y/n..” Emily pleaded softly, looking at her with sincere regret in her eyes, “What, Emily?” Y/n turned, her eyes filled with annoyance, “Look, I’m-“ Emily looked down to see a red substance start to seep out of y/n’s finger, “Hey! Don’t pick at it, here, I’ll get you a band aid, she hurriedly dug in her bag for one and unwrapped it carefully, “I told you to stop, you’ll hurt yourself!” She tsked, trying to get the medical wrap to stick, “there, that’s better,” she smiled softly trying to not show too much tenderness, looking at the woman infront of her who held a curious expression, “Thank you, Emily.” The gray haired woman simply nodded, not saying another word.
Time passed quickly and upon landing, the team was debriefed by local police men, “and you’ve confirmed that this is him?” Emily stated, pointing to their Unsub who’s face on the paper, which was very clearly out in the open, “Yes Ma’am, we have agents stationed outside of his living area within a 100 acre radius.” The investigator replied, handing her the file, the team all sighed, they all could rest tonight, after weeks of intel gathering and tracking down some of the most evasive killers they’ve got their Unsub bagged. Tommorow was the night of a gala were several owners of various big name companies would attend. It was there where they would make an arrest.
It just so happend that their Unsub was Damian Frazier, a very charming man who killed his way to the top of the food chain. He had some connection which is how he evader for so long, but now they had to only wait one more day.
———
“Alright, I think I’ve about finished my report, I’m gonna call it a night” JJ groaned, Spencer following swiftly behind, Rossi sneaking with him. Tara stood up and straightened her shirt, “Yeah! I think I’m gonna hit the hay too, Luke, Matt” she said through gritted teeth, they looked at the woman confused before mouthing ‘ohhhhh’s. Sometimes, the two shared the same brain cell and it took for them to look at each other before realizing. The last three quickly excused themselves, getting the Assignment.
The team had took it upon themselves to start Project Cupid, amazing name, right?
Well, Garcia thought so, she made it up with an excited expression on her face. The plan was to do everything possible to get Emily and Y/n to realize their feelings for each other. That meant booking hotel rooms so the two had to room together.
“Ugh, why am I always stuck with you?” Emily sneered, writing a little more aggressively on her paper, y/n stayed silent, tired of the woman’s antics. She only tried distracting herself, in this case, it was by texting someone to keep her occupied.
Isobel Castille had been a good friend of hers for a while, they dared for precisely 3 months before moving on with their lives, realizing that they weren’t meant to be. That didn’t stop them from being close, no, it encouraged them to confide in each other. Y/n laughed at a joke her friend sent, Emily lifted her head and her jaw clearly tensed, “Holding out on me, Princess?” She commented, seemingly not caring about who was making her smile brightly. “Huh? Oh, it’s no one. You done?”
———
It was obvious now that the two had a…special relationship, they argue but it never got too heated. Prentiss had known when she crossed a line and apologized, non-verbally most of the time. But over this, said time, Emily developed a few feeling that she might’ve shoved down. It had just been 2 days after their last case, and Emily began to freak out about The events that unraveled at the hotel.
~~~ “You sure you don’t want me sleeping on the floor?” Y/n asked, making sure that she wouldn’t be making the gray haired woman anymore grump in the morning, “Yeah, Princess, just sleep so I don’t have to hear you squeaking.”
Y/n shrugged, pulling the covers over her as Emily silently read her book her glasses resting on the brdge of her nose. Before they knew it, both were fast asleep, the issue was, in the morning they had awoken tangled in each other’s arms, both also afraid to admit that it was the best night’s sleep they’d gotten in a while.
They very quickly pulled away, Emily being the first to zoom out of the comforting bed. Y/n laid motionless for a few minutes, replaying the memory of Emily’s warm and soft skin on hers. She knew this was messed up, Emily hated her, why should she be so attracted to someone who wouldn’t want her in a million years?
Before she started to spiral she brought up the courage to get out of bed and dress. It wasn’t flashy but she wore a tight fit long-sleeve and boot cut jeans that fit her well. She finished it off with a necklace that Tara had gifted her for her birthday and earrings.
Emily came out of the bathroom and tried to stop her lingering gaze, but she couldn’t hold back the way her eyes took in the sight before her. “What? Is it that bad?” Y/n questioned, crossing her arms in discomfort, clearly concious of the way Emily thinks of her.
The profiler immediately sense a change in tone and posture, “No, you look, good.” The corner’s of her lips turned up slightly in a almost invisible smile, not waiting for her response but swiftly moving across the room to retrieve her phone and badge.
———
The day went by quickly with the arrest going smoothly actually, not wanting to embarass himself further than he already had. Damian took the cuffs willingly but not without cursing the government, of course.
“Drinks on me?” Rossi asked, smiling as the team cheered, the weeks had been long but all became worth it in the end. It was safe to say that, good work was done and a reward was certainly due.
“Hey, y/n can I talk to you before we leave for the bar?” Tara asked, gently placing her hand on the woman’s bicep. “Uhm, Yeah, sure!” She smiled, walking with Tara away from the group, JJ smirked as she elbowed Garcia signalling that their plan was in motion.
The bubbly blonde spoke up, “Oh, aren’t Tara and Y/n just so cute?” Penelope felt excitement rush through her veins as Emily looked over with a blank expression. It was clear she was trying to stay composed, but her tensed jaw betrayed her. “I guess so, but y/n could do better” she said through gritted teeth, JJ cocked her head to the side and narrowed her eye, “Like who, Em?”
“Erm-“
“Em! You ready?” Y/n seemed a bit more joyful which made Emily worry about what they talked about. “Uh, Yeah, Princess, let’s go” this time, Prentiss said it with a softness in her tone, which of course made y/n’s heart race. Tara had pulled y/n aside to tell her the plan, Emily did like her, you couldn’t hide anything from a team of profilers. Now, y/n just had to play along like she didn’t know anything.
Emily shockingly accompanied y/n home since she knew she had left some clothes at her place. “You still have this shirt? No wonder why I couldn’t find it” Emily laughed as she brought the shirt up to her body and made a duck face. Y/n snorted as she put on some flare leggings and Emily’s old sweat shirt. “Okay, this is nice!” She said in the mirror coming into the bathroom where Emily was fixing her hair.
“Uhm, excuse me, miss, that’s my sweatshirt” she teased, pulling at it, slowly bit her lip as she took the woman in front her in. She ran a hand down her arms and gave a cocky smirk. “well, you look good in it” she assured, y/n couldn’t help but bask in the section cheif’s affection. Something that felt so foreign, yet, meant to be.
——
“There they are!” Luke beamed, everyone turning their heads immediately to the two. “Hey, y/n” Tara friendly greeted, but her stance suggested she wanted something more. With a deep breath y/n ripped herself from Emily’s hands and gravitated toward the doctor. “Tara, I’m practically peeing myself right now, what if if doesn’t work!” Y/n exclaimed, though her tone was hushed careful not to let Emily hear.
Speaking of the woman, she was conversing with Rossi and Simmons while she almost always had her eyes on you and Tara. It angered her the way that Tara could make her seem so comfortable and free so quickly. Perhaps it was a consequence for not dealing with her feelings sooner.
“Emily, if you keep staring I think you’ll actually burn a hole through her.” Rossi chuckled, giving the woman a nudge, she only chuckled half-heartedly, Simmons spoke up with a hand to her shoulder.
“What’s up?”
“I think I like y/n, it’s just that I know she doesn’t like me, I mean look at her and Tara” she admited, looking down at her drink swirling it around her cup. Rossi and Simmons looked at each other like they just got a coldblooded killer to confess to their crimes.
“Well, maybe if you just talk to her. It’ll help, before Tara makes a real move” Matt said, slowly pushing her over, Tara noticed a certain woman coming over and placed a hand on y/n’s waist and pulled her closer, “play along” she whispered, y/n nodded slightly and let out a laugh.
Emily scoffed, it should be her holding you like that not Tara.
“Oi, Princess, over here!” She stood with her arms crossed, y/n giddily walked over, but of course conceal if her excitement.
“Yeah? You okay, Emily? We can leave-“
“I want you, Y/n. I need you! I know I was so rude to you and I never told you why, but I just didn’t know how to handle my feelings. I love you, I mean it and I get it if you like Tara because she’s just amazing and I’m an asshole, I hope you can-“ as Emily rambled, not meeting y/n’s loving gaze, she kissed her first to shut her up. “You’re good, I like Tara, really. But, I love you”
Emily couldn’t stop the heat growing in her cheeks, or the way her lips bended into a wide smile.
Maybe this could work.
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jobean12-blog · 1 year
Text
Something Sweet
Pairing: Joel Miller x reader
Word Count: 636
Summary: You, Joel and Ellie make a stop by Bill and Frank’s place and have just a small moment of real peace. 
Author’s Note: This is for Navy and Roo’s slumber party @the-slumberparty week 1 and the prompt bouquet of flowers. When I saw this I was instantly hit with a few ideas but Joel was the first and since I haven’t written him yet I thought this might be a nice start. Thank you both for hosting and thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the sweet @firefly-graphics​ thank you love🥰
Warnings: Softness and fluff
This gives a nod to episode 3 of ‘The Last of Us’ but there are no real spoilers, however, just want to give you a heads up! 
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You kneel on the ground, the grass soft and cool underneath you and the sun warm at your back as you sift through the tangled vines and leaves. Your eyes catch something bright red and you dig further until you uncover a real treat.
Smiling to yourself you begin to carefully collect the strawberries, your one free hand already full and the fresh smell wafting up to your nose.
The air is filled with the sounds of nature; several birds chirp and twitter in the large oak tree above you and honeybees buzz as they hover over the flowers of the strawberry plant.
You search around the area for something to hold them in and spot an old and rusted watering can.
The serenity of the moment surrounds you and for a brief moment you completely lose yourself in the smell of the strawberries and the feel of the sun.
You’re still headfirst in the plants when you hear the crunching of feet behind you. Your body immediately tenses and you reach for the gun hidden in your boot, the peace you felt vanishing on the breeze.
With a sharp turn of your head you spot Joel walking up to you, one hand hidden behind his back. The tension seeps out of you at the sight of his handsome face and even through the weathered lines around his eyes you can still see the softness that fills them.
“Guess what I found?” you ask with a small smile.
He lifts his eyebrows in question and waits.
You stand and show him the contents of the watering can. With a smile teasing the corners of his mouth he reaches his hand inside and pulls out a strawberry, brushing it off with his fingers. He holds it up to your lips.
You take a bite and close your eyes, giggling around the sweet taste. When you open them his gaze is lingering on your mouth and he brushes his calloused thumb over the corner, wiping away a stray drop of juice.
Reaching your hand up you grab his wrist and bring his palm to your cheek, leaning into his touch.
“What do you have back there?” you ask.
You playfully try to peek around his body but he blocks your view and takes the watering can from your hands.
Without a word he presents you with a bouquet of wildflowers neatly tied together with a frayed piece of old rope.
Your eyes meet and he graces you with a lopsided grin, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
“I know how much ya love ‘em darlin’,” he says quietly.
“Joel,” you whisper, taking them in your hands and holding them up to your nose.
You inhale a mixed but fragrant aroma and gently finger the soft and colorful petals.
“Thank you.”
He gathers you in his arms, plucking the bouquet from your fingers and resting it inside the watering can.
“I wish we could stay,” you admit quietly, relaxing your palms on his chest and toying with the open buttons of his shirt.
He doesn’t waste time with an answer he can’t give and tightens his hold on you, drawing you closer.
A soft breeze blows and rustles the leaves above, allowing a shaft of bright sunlight to slip through, bathing you in a warm glow. Your arms circle his neck and you comb your fingers through his salt and pepper hair before they slide down to caress his scruffy cheek.  
His eyelashes flutter closed and he leans into you, trailing his nose along your neck.
His eyes burn bright with all the words that hang in the small space between you and just as he dips his head, brushing his lips across yours, he whispers, “no matter where we go ‘m gonna make sure you always have flowers.”
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yandere-kokeshi · 3 months
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How would Dad! Ghost react to coming home, finding his son gone - being kidnapped by enemies?
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Warnings: yandere behavior, and violence.
A/N: all platonic. Ty for the ask <3.
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Dad! Ghost had felt fear before — from his father, being tortured, being betrayed and being in war — but nothing as petrifying as this. You were gone. And he would tear the whole fucking world apart until he found you. 
Price and the rest of the team and Laswell and Farah are quickly informed of the whereabouts. Some reactions of “You had a son?” to “We’ll get ‘em back. We promise.”. They immediately get to work, as does Ghost. But he’s a rope ready to snap. 
He’s unsure how to react. He’s angry, snapping at Price when they ask what you were last wearing. Becoming unbelievably quiet where he doesn’t answer anything, or to anyone; chewing his lips until they bleed. 
Yet, he doesn’t cry, sleep, nor stop working– he can’t show weakness, especially since you’re out there alone.  
Every passing second and minute hits him like a bullet train. The ‘what ifs’ trailing his mind. He’s ready to blow off heads. Dad! Ghost needs to know if you’re okay. 
Finally, Laswell informs the team and him of your whereabouts — trapped in a large-abandoned warehouse, possibly chained with enemies. In a way, he was relieved. But, he winced with physical pain at the thought of you covered in many battering. 
And with that, Dad! Ghost doesn’t waste any time. His eyes sharp and gaze unwavering, storming inside with bloody intentions. Pure muscle memory with his trained tactics, discarding the men with single blows, either to the head or their neck slit; not missing a single step, ramming into the shut doors and going through the empty rooms in hope of finding you. 
Soon, Dad! Ghost finds you and rushes over to you, holding you with extreme tightness; urges on picking you up into his arms. He covers your eyes, not wanting you to see his bloody wrath. But by the stained blood on his gloved-hands and gear, it’s easily shown what he did. 
Despite how you look — whether with blood from him, or being hurt — you’re transported to a hospital. And by the time you reach into a room with IV’s, you’re passed out, sleeping away by the huge dose of adrenaline. 
Right beside you is Dad! Ghost, caressing your hand and looking at you with sullen eyes. You’re alive. But nearly died because of him. 
He apologizes in a soft whisper, and right when you don’t expect it, he cries. A few tears dropping from his eyes, sinking into the skull balaclava.
In hindsight, Dad! Ghost feels terrible. Not only at your traumatic experience, but if you’re mad at him or how he now feels incapable of being your father now. He promised to himself that he would protect you. And he didn’t, causing this terrifying encounter for you. 
For now, he’s focused on you waking up — watching how you breathe, his own fingers playing with yours, consistently looking at your vitals and pulse; fidgeting with everything. 
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© yandere-kokeshi 2023 — Do not copy, modify, edit, repost, or use my works for ASMR readings, tiktoks, or other content.
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