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firsttimewriter92 · 8 months

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Neighborly shenanigans Pt. 1

Simon "Ghost" Riley x f! reader (Neighbor AU)

Part 2; Part 3; Part 4

Description: You´ve just moved in a couple of weeks ago, trying for a new start. A brief encounter with your neighbor gets your endorphins and imagination going. What is it about the mask?

Warnings: cursing, some dirty thoughts, fluff, a little pining

Word count: 1.917

A/N: Hi everyone <3 This is my very first Simon Riley x reader fic. I´ve written about several characters of CoD but Ghost was always kind of an enigma to me. I never knew how to make him the love interest. But and idea popped into my head after reading some characterization that made it much easier to write for him. So here you go :) Let me know if a part 2 is something you´d be interested in.

“Jesus fucking Christ” you swore as you tried your best to push your heavy apartment door open and balance your bag and groceries through the door. It was a struggle to say the least, but you were damned if you did second trips. Grumbling through your teeth you saw no other possibility than setting down your bag, holding the door open with your foot and grabbing your groceries a little more securely. Bending your knee, you gave your door a forceful push and slid through into your small hallway. Foregoing taking off your shoes you made your way into your open kitchen and set the heavy paper bags down on your kitchen island.

A sigh escaped you and you took a moment just to stand in your kitchen and take in the chaos around you. Half emptied moving boxes were strewn all around your living room, amidst not yet hanging shelves, plastic plants and several DIY projects. Another sigh left your lungs with a huff. Moving and starting anew had seemed like your only option a couple of weeks ago but now you dreaded the silence. You wanted this, ___, you thought. It was your decision.

Your new job was everything you ever hoped for, and training turned out to be smooth sailing. You loved it, you loved your apartment, even though it was far from being finished yet. But still, what you´d left behind still lingered in the back of your brain all too clearly at times. Especially when your heavy door closed behind you every evening and there was nothing but you, your DIY projects, an occasional phone call with your parents and then silence. Silence to wallow in, rake your brain and memories. Memories not even a good Podcast or music were able to drown out.

You weren´t as close with your colleagues yet as to be invited out to the pub after work but that was to be expected. The chances were good though. Maybe just a couple of days more and you´d have at least some kind of social interaction. One step after the other, you reminded yourself. Rome wasn’t built in a day. Your own impatience with yourself was yet again trying to make you feel like you´d made a mistake by moving. A humorless laugh bubbled from your lips as you shook your head. Calm down, you thought. This is your life, your pace. Relax.

A couple of minutes later your food was stored away, veggies and salmon steaming away and finally you sat down on your couch, glass of wine in hand and Netflix on your TV.

“Bloody hell” you cursed as a shot of adrenalin set your brain into overdrive. Your bag. You jumped off your couch and hurried over to the door. Swinging it open with a yank you initially thought someone had put out the lights in the corridor. All you saw was black and not a second later you collided with something solid.

Shaking your head, you realized three things. It was 7 o´clock on a warm day in July, so it couldn’t be dark out already. Your hallway had several windows and yes, the sun was still out. The black wall you just ran into turned out to be a massive chest.

Heat was ascending your neck as you took a small step back and lifted your head to look at the face this quite impressive physique belonged to. What the…?

Before you stood a man, several inches taller than you, frozen in place with his arm lifted as if he was just about to knock on your door. He looked down on you with impressive, hazel eyes. Honey blond, tousled hair adorned his head, falling slightly onto his forehead, wet tips clinging to his temples and a bead of sweat disappearing behind his ear. But that was about all you could make out.

Seeing people wearing a facemask had of course not been an unusual sight for the last three years but he wasn´t wearing one of those surgical ones. His nose, mouth and chin were covered in thick, black material, even spanning over his cheekbones and disappearing behind his ears. When your eyes caught his again you saw them narrowing just slightly and one blond eyebrow ticking upwards.

Something wriggly moved inside your belly.

The man slowly lowered his arm, simultaneously lifting the other slightly, holding out your bag.

“This yours?” a deep, calm voice broke through the silence and the wriggly something inside you spread out towards your chest, down your arms and into your fingertips. You swallowed, trying to gather your wits again.

“Uhm…yes. Yes, that´s mine. Forgot about it” you said with a nervous laugh as you took it from him. He hummed deep inside his chest in understanding. The sound only letting your eyes snap onto his again trying to decipher if the squinting was an annoyed one or an amused one.

Amused, as it turns out. He took a deep breath, the black material of his running shirt as you now realized it was, stretching across the expanse of his chest.

“You know, that´s how you get your identity stolen. Or at least your wallet.” Yeah, there was no question now, he was grinning behind his mask, his tone mildly rebuking but not at all belittling.

A small smirk of your own crawled onto your lips as you cocked out your hip and nodded your head.

“You´re absolutely right, Sir. I´ll cuff my bag to my wrist from now on so this inconvenience shall not occur to you a second time.” You want to be cocky, mister? Fine with me.

Your answer made him chuckle. It was short but genuine. One hand in his pocket he stepped back slightly and only now did you notice the heat that his body had emitted. With one last narrow of his eyes, making the edges crinkle ever so slightly he answered. “Not an inconvenience, Miss. Have a good evening.” He nodded once and walked away to your right.

“Y-you too” you cursed the way your words tumbled. To your surprise he halted in front of the door next to yours and your heart jumped into your throat as he took out his keys. Your eyes still fixed onto his side profile (you still couldn’t really make out any features), he gave you one last look before opening his door.

“And thank you” you rushed out.

He only lifted one hand to give you a small little wave that seemed way too juvenile for a man of his stature and closed his door.

Kind of shellshocked you turned around yourself and let your door fall shut behind you. Clutching onto your bag you didn’t even notice how long you were just standing in your hallway, trying to sort out the wriggling nerves. Who was that? Idiot. Your neighbor. Your neighbor that you´d never seen before. A man like him you´d remember seeing. There´d never been any noise from the apartment next to yours so you just thought it was either a very quiet tenant or one that only went there to sleep.

Sitting down on your couch again you stared at the wall behind your TV. He was behind that wall, doing…things. Existing. Why did that feel so exciting to you? Maybe it was just because that´d been your first real social interaction apart from talking to your colleagues?

Laughing incredulously at yourself you buried your burning face in your hands and giggled. No. No that wasn’t it and you knew it. It was stupid. So very stupid and weird and nerdy and…that damn mask!!

“Whhhyyyy…..?” you moaned grinning and rubbed your temples, finally letting all the pent up adrenalin and endorphins rush through your blood stream unstopped. What was it about men wearing those damn masks? Not being able to fully see their face. Having to find out what there was to them by just their actions.

The fist time you really thought you´d lost your mind was when you actually developed a burning crush on a literal tin can from the Star Wars universe. Oh yeah, sure. Give me a brooding, sarcastic, overworked loner with PTSD and give him a freaking child to protect. Watch him become a devoted, loving single parent. Of course! Yes, let me thirst after him. And did it stop there? Of course not. The pandemic hit and the lockdown had everyone in a chokehold.

The only chokehold you wanted to be in at the time however was one carried out by a video game character called Ghoul from “Call of Obligation”. Tatted up, burly, sharp, dutiful, loyal and fucking hot.

The only thing you were able to see of him? His eyes. Just his eyes and an occasional forearm here and there. Everything else covered in tactical gear and a scary facemask. God that character haunted your dreams almost every night. And now, you had his existing, breathing, heat emitting, real human equivalent living next to you. You felt your insides burn as another funny noise came from your mouth. There had to be something wrong with you. Why was half a visible face or even less, so damn attractive to you?

“Shit must be some kind of kink” you murmured to yourself as you reached for your wine glass.

Why was he wearing that mask anyway? People weren´t obligated to wear one anymore. Was it some kind of training technique while running?

Anyhow, you appreciated the encounter. Your mood instantly better even though the both of you hadn’t talked much at all. He seemed witty. Cocky almost and you liked that.

Emptying your wine, you put the glass back in the dishwasher and walked over to your bathroom when you heard it. The shower in the next apartment was running. Immediately you halted all movement and tried to not even breath. The situation seemed so delicate, like thin glass ready to break. You stared at the wall when something else caught your ears.

No. Did you hear this right? Was he…?

You walked carefully over to your shower and stepped in. Trying not to care about how crazy you must look at this moment, you turned your head to the wall slightly, closed your eyes and listened as hard as you could. There it was.

Low, melodic and absolutely captivating. Over the sound of the water hitting the tile you heard your neighbor singing. Your forehead hit the tile and you breathed as quietly as possible, marveling in the baritone sweetness that could be heard through the wall. All too soon, about a minute later it was over. The water was shut off, the singing stopped.

As if in trance you got your nighttime routine going and a couple minutes later, slid into bed. Knowing where his bathroom was now, you were positive that his bedroom had to be next to yours as well. You tried to hear more, but nothing else penetrated the walls. It made you glad actually. If you would be able to hear him in his bedroom, sleep would turn out to be an impossibility to achieve.

This way, you closed your eyes, got comfortable and let your thoughts drift and wander. Not long after, you were dead asleep. Your dreams yet again haunted, but now, the usual scary mask of Ghoul was replaced with a solid black one and instead of clawing at a fully clothed head between your legs, your fingers tangled into soft honey blond curls.

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I hope you enjoyed and thank you for reading. Please consider interacting with this post and give me some feedback. Comments and reblogs always help not only to push my work that I love, but also help to improve my writing and get my imagination going.

Thank you for considering it <3

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crosshairlovebot · 3 months

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scents and steam / hunter x gn!reader

pairing: hunter x gn!reader. reader is not present but heavily mentioned.

description: hunter returns home to you early, but you're not in your apartment. so he takes a shower to pass the time as he waits for you to arrive.

word count: 1,353

warnings: NSFW 18+ male m*sturbation. heavy scent kink. plot only if you squint.

this is so, so incredibly out of my comfort zone. i don't know what happened. hunter shower thoughts possessed me and i couldn't be stopped. i have never written smut before so i hope this is okay!

also posted this on ao3. feedback is welcomed, reblogs are appreciated. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Hunter punched the door code with the gloved tip of his finger with a little too much force behind each press. He was much more tired than he would admit, he could feel the heaviness weighing down his body, shoulders hunched as he scrubbed a hand over his face, the other holding his helmet. The lock clicked and the door slid open. When the door closed behind him, he felt his senses relax, picking up on the familiar scent that he hadn’t felt in so long. It was a feeling of relief. He looked around the small apartment, one single yellow lamp lit by the window, he didn’t sense anyone else in the space.

They weren’t home yet. That didn’t surprise him, his arrival had been a surprise for him too.

He rubbed his eyes before making his way to the single bedroom in the apartment. The scent of them was even stronger in here, and he felt his nerve endings tingle and tighten with the recognition. His fingers twitched and he felt his stomach tighten. His body knew that when he was here, he was more than just content. He was home.

He stood in front of the window, looking out over the bustling Galactic capital as he took off his armour, unclipping his shoulder pauldrons and sliding off his vambraces and thigh gauntlets, stepping out of his codpiece – he placed it all on a neat pile before padding his way to the adjoining bathroom in just his blacks. Even though crawling into the bed was tempting – the need to be completely surrounded by the smell of them overwhelming he had to hold himself back – he knew he needed to shower first. He was filthy, and the last thing he wanted to do was dirty the bed.

He flicked the light on, and the blub buzzed for a moment before it stopped. He looked in the mirror and breathed deeply. It was so strong in here, that he felt heat pooling through his body before concentrating in his lower half. He groaned before opening the shower curtain and turning the water on, cranking the dial to the left for hot water, steam already rising.

Hot water was a scarce commodity aboard the Marauder. With four men, all of whom ran around completing gruelling missions day in and day out, when there was time for a shower, the water was rarely warm enough to be comfortable. And since Hunter always let his brothers go first, he seldom had a warm shower.

But here? He would make the most of it.

He stripped himself of his blacks until he was completely bare. His whole body tingled as he kicked them off to the side somewhere before he slipped his bandana off, leaving it hanging over the basin. He checked the water with his hand before stepping in, letting the water wash over him.

He moaned as the warmth of the water seeped deep into his bones, relieving the aches and pains that came with being a soldier. It felt incredible. He faced away from the water, leaning his head back to wet his hair. He closed his eyes as the water teased the edge of his hairline before he wiped a wet hand across his face. He stayed that way for a while, moving his head so that the water flowed over his shoulders, cascading down his chest, the rivulets forming paths in his chest hair before falling past his belly button and down his hips and legs.

Hunter turned around and placed his hands on the wall, letting the water hit the back of his neck as he let it hang forward. Then with one hand still on the wall, he took his cock in his hand and stroked it gently, his eyes squeezed shut as his groan echoed off the tile.

The entire shower smelt like them. The smell of their soap lingered as if it were painted on the tiles themselves. Bathing in it simultaneously felt like heaven and torture. After so many long months of being without them, now he was surrounded by them. He couldn’t ignore it, his whole body going into overdrive. He’d been deprived of it for so long that his senses were trying to compensate for all the time of being without it. It sunk into his skin, his bones, making his cock twitch in his palm.

Where were they? The scent in the shower wasn’t enough, he needed to breathe it in off their skin – right in the space where the neck met the shoulders, that’s where it was strongest.

He couldn’t wait for them to return. He quickly grabbed the bar of soap and rubbed some on his hand, breathing it in before resuming his position. He moved his hand up and down carefully, building the pleasure slowly as he felt himself harden.

He was tired, but he so rarely had the opportunity to let himself go like this. Privacy was as scarce as the water, and the tiny shower in the Marauder was too cramped to really enjoy any kind of pleasure. And holo-sex was out of the question too. All he’d had was his memories and a five-minute window every few days.

He clenched his fist on the wall, and he moved his hand in slight twists up and down, drawing it out. He pictured their naked body, sprawled out just for him, and moved his hand a little faster, pleasure building. Their soft skin, their smell, he imagined it all. He imagined kissing up and down, using his mouth to pleasure them, and the way they squirmed when he moved his tongue just right. He gasped, moaning loudly as he felt his body tighten.

He’d missed them so much, he hoped they didn’t take too long to come home. He really should wait, so they could help. But the possibility that they could walk in on him like this gave him a slight thrill.

His hand moved faster now, he was so, so close. He had memorised the sound they made when he would bite their shoulder or the inside of their thighs, and he played it over and over in his head. He muttered out their name as he quickened his wrist. He’d make sure he made them make it again and again when he returned.

He tightened his hand on himself, and he jerked, crying out as he thought of the way they clenched around him. The way they mewled for more as he moved inside them; begging for me, telling him how good he felt inside them.

Soon. Soon. Soon they would be here. Soon he would feel it again. The thought of it was driving him crazy.

He was so close, practically on the edge. His breathing was laboured as he imagined the way they could cry out his name upon their release, nails clawing into his skin leaving crescent moon carvings. He panted harshly as he felt himself draw up and he made a choked-out sound as he stiffened as his release hit him.

He groaned loudly as the pleasure unfurled in his body – no need to squash the sound with his hand. He imagined the sound of them coming, the loud way they moaned his name, crying out with how good it felt. He threw his head back as his body shook as months of pent-up frustrations fell out of him. He opened his eyes to his release hitting the tiles as his hand drew out the rest until he was spent.

Hunter caught his breath, pressing his forehead against the tiles. He laughed lightly to himself as he straightened up. He was still half-hard, and he felt warm all over – not shower warm, a different kind of warm. He washed away his release then grabbed the bar of soap and moved it all over his body, smiling at the thought of smelling like them too. He hummed to himself, his deep tenor filling the room. He couldn’t wait to see them.

banner art by @vimse thank you for reading! <3 again, this is my first time writing something like this so feedback (delivered kindly) is really appreciated!! if you want more fics like this let me know...it's good writing practice for me even tho i primarily write fluff/angst pieces!

🏷️ @starrylothcat @sinfulsalutations @32rotations @moodymisty @nahoney22 @freesia-writes @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @bobaprint @crosshairsnose @jesseeka @thegalaxys-edge @chopper-base @wenalena @shredderwest @leavingkamino @r2d2staser @beckbucket @pb-jellybeans @mylifeisactuallyamess @padawancat97 @littlecrowtime @jedipoodoo @ezras-left-thumb @lovelycurls @fruitsaladtree @literallydontlook

TAGLIST FORM

if you're a regular on my tag list but haven't been tagged, it's bc your age isn't in your bio/have said you prefer sfw fics.

#larissa writes #hunter x reader #hunter x reader fic #hunter smut #hunter x reader smut #hunter bad batch #hunter fic #hunter bad batch fic #the bad batch hunter #the bad batch smut #tbb hunter #tbb hunter x reader #tbb x reader #bad batch smut

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lustfulslxt · 6 months

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Help - Chris Sturniolo

summary : oc catches chris trying to get himself off to her, and gives him a helping hand

warnings : smut obvi

a/n : this is another one of my ao3 fics xx

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chrissy ❤️‍🩹 come over

evie 🫶🏼 im at work rn

chrissy ❤️‍🩹 so come over after

evie 🫶🏼 ok but i'll have to stop home and shower first

chrissy ❤️‍🩹 just come straight over

chrissy ❤️‍🩹 you can shower here and we can have a sleepover

evie 🫶🏼 ok do you need anything before i come over

chrissy ❤️‍🩹 nope, just you

evie 🫶🏼 see you soon

after maybe half an hour, evie was pulling up to her best friend's house. as she was walking up, nick and matt were walking out.

"oh, hey evie." the two boys smiled.

"hi guys." she smiled back at them. "you guys leaving?"

"yeah, going to madi's for the night." nick says.

evie nods, "okay, see you tomorrow."

with that, evie walks in the house. nobody other than chris was home now, so she made her way up to his room. upon walking in, she seen him turning his pc off and removing his headset.

"hey babe." she greets her best friend.

"you're here!" chris exclaims, walking over to pull her into a hug.

"sorry, i probably stink. i did just get off work."

chris shakes his head, "you're fine. but you can shower right now if you want and you can just borrow some of my clothes. i figured we could just hangout and watch movies."

evie nods, "okay, that works. i'll be out shortly."

chris relaxes on his bed while evie goes to his connected bathroom. while waiting for her, chris gets lost in thought.

he asked evie to come over because he needed her. he was having a bad day, but he didn't know why. he was tense and stressed and he was completely clueless as to why. evie was always his solution. no matter the problem, he always found his answer in her. she was like his platonic soulmate. that he found attractive and sometimes fantasized about having sex with. but that's besides the point, it would never happen.

the bathroom door opens, snapping chris out of his thoughts. evie emerges wrapped in nothing but a towel. there's water droplets all over her body and steam fogging around her from the heat of the bathroom.

"sorry, i didn't exactly bring any clothes in there." she says to him.

he clears his throat, "oh, you're good. you can pick whatever."

she goes to his dresser, looking through a couple of drawers. chris couldn't take his eyes off of her. she looked so incredible and he just wanted to do dirty things to her. absentmindedly, she bends over to sift through the bottom drawer, not realizing that her best friend was watching her every move.

chris' mouth parts, his eyes widening at the sight before him. he seen her pussy pop out just beneath the towel, looking so pretty, pink, and incredibly fuckable. his throat ran dry as his dick immediately stiffens under his shorts.

"um, i'm gonna use the bathroom." he mumbles to her, quickly shutting himself in there.

evie furrowed her eyebrows but got dressed nonetheless. she sprawled out in his bed and scrolled through her phone as she waited for him.

after what felt like forever, evie decided to get up and check on him. she didn't know if she was just super bored or if he was actually taking forever. but once she got closer to the door, she heard him on the other side.

it was muffled but she could still hear it clear as day. chris was moaning, more than that, he was moaning her name. without actually using her head, she quietly opens the door to see what was going on. her suspicions were confirmed once she laid eyes on chris.

there he was, leaning against the sink. his boxers were down to his ankles and his hand was gripping his dick. he had his head tilted back with his eyes squeezed shut as he inhaled sharply.

"f-fuck evie." he moans out, his hand squeezing around his throbbing tip.

evie's hand went over her mouth, completely flabbergasted that her best friend was getting himself off to the thought of her. unfortunately, she wasn't exactly silent with that.

chris' eyes shot open and his head snapped towards her. he immediately tries to cover up, his mouth falling agape as he failed to form words. evie quickly shuts the door and runs back to his bed.

both of the two's stomachs were in knots, but for different reasons. chris felt guilty and embarrassed, and terrified that he just ruined their friendship. he wanted the earth to swallow him right then and there. evie, on the other hand, couldn't get what she saw out of her mind. how hot chris looked with his face contorted in absolute pleasure, and all to the thought of her. she couldn't help but wish that she was the one actually pleasing him, rather than just the thought of her.

after a few minutes, the door opens and chris slowly walks out. he barely even looks at her, his eyes trained to the floor. evie couldn't look away though.

"i'm so sorry." he whispers, unable to meet her eyes. "i shouldn't have been doing that with you here, let alone thinking about you while doing it."

he was extremely embarrassed and he hated how awkward he felt. since he couldn't even look at her, he didn't see that she wasn't bothered one bit.

"you don't have to apologize." she responds. "everyone does it. masturbate i mean, everyone masturbates. to whatever, not like to me."

she felt stupid because she sounded like an idiot, spewing those couple sentences out. however, chris finally looked up at her.

he frowned, "i'm seriously sorry. i wanted you to come over because i've just been having a weird day and i've been stressed and i don't even know. then i seen you bend over in that towel and i just.. i'm sorry, i get if i made you uncomfortable. if you want to leave, i understand."

"chris, honestly, it's okay." she says, biting her cheek. "it was actually pretty hot."

she definitely didn't mean to spill that last statement, but she didn't regret it. chris' head snapped up at her, his eyes wide.

"r-really?"

"mhm." she finds herself grinning, "i was actually a little disappointed you didn't just ask me to help you."

"you would do that?"

she only nods.

chris sheepishly rubs the back of his neck, "um.. is it-uh.. is it too late to ask?"

she didn't say a word, she just got up and slowly walked towards him. he was really nervous and super tense, she could see it all over him. her hands slowly trailed up his bare chest, finding their way to the nape of his neck and played with his hair. she looked him in the eyes, just admiring the way he looked in front of her. his cheeks were washed over with a pink tone, his eyes flickering all over her face as he tried to read her expression. his fingers toyed with one another as anxiety built in the pit of his stomach. and yet, he was still stiff downstairs.

without another thought, her hand made its way to his shaft and gently grabbed him through his boxers. a barely audible gasp left his lips, not expecting this in the slightest.

"do you want me to make you feel good?" she whispered, palming his rock hard dick.

he frantically nods, wanting nothing more than exactly that. evie bends down just a little bit, and trails her tongue from his v line and up his chest, moving onto his neck.

"use your words, baby. do. you. want. me. to. make. you. feel. good?" she repeats, leaving wet kisses along his neck between every word.

at this point, chris was harder than he's ever been in his life, it was almost painful. evie could feel him throbbing in her hand and it made her super wet.

"god," chris lets out a moan as she continues to palm him and kiss all over his neck. "p-please. i want you s-so bad. i want you to m-make me feel good."

after those words fell from his lips, evie grabbed his face with both hands and smashed her lips against his. him being sexually vulnerable and submissive with her and overall looking so good right now, she was extremely turned on. on top of that, she could feel his hard dick pressing right below her stomach. chris kissed her back with so much heat and lust, already feeling the stress from today dissipate. their tongues battled for dominance, swapping spit in sexual hunger.

evie pulled him with her, towards the bed, not removing their lips once. she sucked his tongue and pulled away, slightly dragging his bottom lip between her teeth. a whimper escaped chris' lips and he tightened his grip on her waist. as her hands travel to his boxers, she pauses and looks up at him.

"if we do this, it won't jeopardize our friendship right? because i don't want to lose my best friend.

chris immediately shakes his head, "i don't want to lose you either. it won't be weird or awkward, we'll be fine."

she looks into his eyes, and although his pupils are dilated and irises are 10 times darker than usual, she can see he's being sincere. with that, she loops her fingers into his boxers and pulls them down to his ankles. his fully hard dick springs out, slapping against his stomach. he was big, really big.

evie drops to her knees, holding eye contact with him. she placed one hand on his thigh while the other grabbed his dick. it was already dripping precum so she licked the tip soft and slow to taste him. chris immediately let out a moan and his hands found their way into her soft hair. she grinned at his reaction and continued to lick up and down his shaft before taking all of him into her mouth, until he was hitting the back of her throat.

"oh fuck." chris moans out, his hips bucking into her.

she continues bobbing her head up and down, hollowing her cheeks and sucking hard to give him the most pleasure. she sucked even harder around the tip, knowing he was sensitive. every time she pulled away to slightly catch her breath, she would use her hand to jerk him off while licking the slit. chris' grip in her hair was tight and he was fighting the urge to hold her head and fuck her throat.

however, evie then started deep throating his entire dick, fast and hard, gagging every so often. chris couldn't contain his moans or the involuntary thrusts his hips made. he was so close to cumming and evie knew that, so she pulled away.

"no." chris whined, "i was so close."

"i know, baby. that's the point." she smirked at him, returning to her feet.

he looked so flustered. his hair was slightly damp and his forehead a sheer layer of sweat. his cheeks were bright red and he was panting, trying to catch his breath. it was definitely a sight to see. if evie was being honest, she wanted to have him like this every day.

she softly pushed him onto the bed, his back meeting the sheets as he stared at up her. his eyes were wide and he looked at her in anticipation.

"do you want to fuck me?" she boldly asks.

chris' eyes widened more, if that were possible. he didn't expect anything to happen between them, let alone sex. and the fact that she abruptly asked him, threw him off, but he was not complaining.

again, he only nods, frantically.

"your words, baby." she teased.

"i-i do. i want to fuck you so bad. i want to feel your warm pussy around my dick. i-i want you moaning my name. i want to make you cum all over me."

his response surprised both of them, neither expecting those words to fall out. in all honesty, it turned evie on even more than she already was. she then removed the shirt of chris' that she was wearing, along with the boxers she put on. chris couldn't help but stare at her naked body, he wanted his hands all over it.

evie proceeded to crawl on top of him, her heat placed directly on top of his hard on. he could feel her arousal dripping onto him and it made his dick twitch, wanting to pound into her wet warmth. she leaned forward and connected their lips again, in a rushed and longing kiss. she loved the way he kissed her, it was just so hot.

chris hands were roaming her body, settling on her boobs for a moment. he broke their kiss and took one into his mouth, sucking and biting on her nipple. it caused a couple of soft moans to fall from her lips, encouraging him even more. he continued to switch back and forth from both boobs, before his hands went lower. they went around to her ass, squeezing and parting her cheeks as he bucked his hips, his dick brushing against her holes.

she was so wet, it was the perfect lubrication for him to do whatever he wanted. but he was waiting for her cue. he was oddly submissive to her. not so much but he was definitely letting her take the lead.

after waiting long enough, evie slightly lifted off of him and grabbed his dick to line it up with her entrance. she looked him into his eyes, unsure of what she was looking for, but everything she seen, finally made her slowly sink down onto him. both of them let out low moans, him filling her up perfectly. it was a tight fit, but it felt so good to both of them. he was hard, she was soft, both of them emitting heat, and her lubricating them. it was the perfect mix, and chris would be lying if he said he didn't just almost cum at the feeling of her, especially after she edged him.

evie started off slow, only grinding into him. yet, it still caused them both immense pleasure. she, soon, picked up the pace, bouncing up and down on his dick while he had his hands on her waist, guiding her. the two were letting out pleasurable sounds, and she was loving the fact that he wasn't ashamed to be audible. it was such a turn on, especially because he sounded sexy. and the fact that it was her causing him pleasure, made her love it even more.

at times evie would slow down to find the strength to pick back up, chris couldn't help but continue thrusting, fucking her from below. neither minded it, both just enjoying the sensation one another gave each other.

"mm, you feel s-so good." chris moaned out, his head tossing back onto the pillows as he continued thrusting up into her.

"fuuck." she whimpered.

the feeling in evie's stomach tightened and she knew it was only a matter of time before she reached her climax. and from the way chris was almost shaking underneath her, she knew he was close too. she picked up and sank back down hard, causing him to jerk up and let out a loud moan. it was obvious he loved that, so she continued doing it. after only a few times doing that, chris' grip on her waist tightened and his legs were trembling.

"holy fuck." he groaned out with a heavy breath, "i'm about t-to cum."

"mmm, me too. cum in me, baby." she moaned in return.

not wasting another second, the both of them let out loud cries, releasing at the same time. his nut shot into her pussy as she came all over his dick. both of them in a state of euphoria, but evie didn't want to stop. he was making her feel so good and he was still hard, so she just kept going. both of them were obviously a lot more sensitive than before, so she knew it wouldn't take long for them to cum again.

once chris realized she didn't plan on stopping, he pulled her face down to his and captured her lips with his own. he kissed her so deeply, basically swallowing all the moans that escaped from her. he parted from her and gripped her torso, pulling her body into his before fucking up into her. she was a moaning mess on top of him, practically screaming, and he was living for it.

without a word, both of them came again. evie let out an extremely loud moan, her face scrunched up in pleasure. chris couldn't help but stare at her, in awe of her beauty and the way she looked when she orgasmed. it was intense for both of them, as they struggled to catch their breath. chris was damn near whimpering underneath her, still slowly fucking into her as they rode out their highs.

chris starts, "that was-"

"amazing." she finished for him, "hands down the best orgasm i've ever had."

he stares up at her, nodding in agreement. he licks his lips and swallows deeply, trying to find the courage to speak his mind. sure, they just had great sex, but he wasn't sure what it was for her.

"um.. is this just a one time thing?" he finally asks.

she pulls off of him, collapsing right next to him, before asking, "did you want it to be?"

"honestly?" he asks her, them locking eyes. "no. i want to be able to fuck you whenever, wherever."

a wide grin pulls to her lips, and she just leans forward and places them on his. it was a short and sweet kiss.

"chris, baby. after that, you can have me anywhere, anyway."

the two burst into giggles, chris pulling her into a hug as he peppered kisses all over her face.

"come on, let's get cleaned up."

a/n : next is chris requesttt, just couldn't keep my bestie waiting 🫶🏼 here’s #3 for you @flowerxbunnie

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inoreuct · 6 months

Text

zosan caretaking fluff feat. hair washing, banter and very soft vibes. dinner is served.

Sanji sighed, sliding down until the back of his head pressed against the lip of the bathtub. The water was toeing the line between too hot and just right and he'd poured in enough lavender emulsion to coat it with dense, heady bubbles; they tickled his chin as he let his eyes slip shut.

It had been such a long day.

He'd been rudely woken up by the sound of a cannonball crashing through their hull, tossed out of his bunk a second later when the enemy ship rammed into their side; having to fight moments after being startled awake had already put him in a horrid mood, and then he'd realised that the galley had taken damage and he would have to restock more than half of everything he'd had in there. The fridge had lost power too so he'd had to cook all the meat that had thawed (which, to be fair, was never a problem with Luffy around) but then his whole crew had scattered during their supply run and he'd lugged a shit-ton of food back to the Sunny himself and now his brain was buzzing and his everything was aching and he was pretty sure he had gunpowder in his hair.

The steam filled his lungs when he breathed in, damp and dense and warm, settling heavy as he trailed his fingers through the milky water. His neck hurt from staring down at goods all day and he could feel the beginning of a tension headache behind his eyeballs. It was a small blessing that he had the bathroom to himself—

The door creaked open.

Goddammit. Sanji sucked down a fortifying breath before he looked up— and relaxed, because thankfully, the one possible person he might be able to tolerate at the moment was sliding inside with one arm behind his back.

Zoro pushed the door shut with his heel, loose pants wrapped low around his hips and hair already darkening from the humidity. "Hi."

"Hello, marimo," Sanji sighed, tilting his head to the side. He watched as Zoro trudged over and stuck his free hand into the water before yanking it back with a muffled hiss.

"That's hot."

"Nearly enough to boil a lobster," the cook agreed mildly, eyebrows flashing up as he turned his head to track Zoro pulling up a stool, lazy and languid. "Now did you need anything, or are you just here to kill off more of my brain cells?"

Zoro gave him a dry look.

A heavy exhale slipped from Sanji's nose before he reached behind him, fingers brushing Zoro's elbow and sliding down to take his hand. He spread the swordsman's fingers out, tracing over hard-earned callouses with featherlight swirls. "I'm sorry, mon chou," he sighed, letting his temple fall against Zoro's knuckles. "Just... tired, is all."

"I know." Zoro flipped his palm, rubbing a thumb over Sanji's cheekbone before pulling away. "Brought you something."

Sanji heard the sound of glass being picked up and nearly turned before he was presented with a dark, stout bottle, the labelling font reminiscent of chalk on a blackboard. "Pirate Blend," he read, huffing a chuckle. Fitting. "No glass?"

"As if you won't finish the whole thing."

He let out a faux-indignant gasp, reaching out to whack the back of his hand against Zoro's bare chest. "Ass."

"That was my tit, cook. Think the steam's getting to your head."

The laugh that peeled its way out of Sanji's throat was sticky with exhaustion, steeped through with lavender suds and underpinned by the ache in his muscles as he popped the cork with his teeth and took a swig. "...Where did you get this?"

"There was a tasting booth in the market. Thought you'd like this one."

"You thought right," Sanji admitted, lifting the bottle to his mouth again and letting the wine coat his tongue; a red by the taste of it, with a nearly savoury spiced vanilla and dark, syrupy cacao, a rich core of sweet berry, an almost silky hint of dry tannin. He held out the bottle, but Zoro shook his head with a soft quirk of his mouth.

"Got it for you, swirly."

The cook smirked. "Suit yourself. So that's where you ran off to while poor little me was stuck doing all the heavy lifting," he lamented, sighing and emphasising it with an exaggerated sip.

"Not just that."

He heard twine sliding across waxed paper, packaging rustling as it was unfolded—

The water sloshed as Sanji set his bottle down and turned around, holding onto the edge of the tub as Zoro pulled the last bit of paper away to reveal the set of soaps in his lap.

The cook's breath caught. Each of the five bars clearly had a different scent, and a design to match; the one with green and cream swirls was matcha, surely, and the translucent one with rose petals was obviously rose. One more was oat and honey, and the one with a herb sprig on top was definitely rosemary mint— But the last one was plain brown, mild enough that his nose couldn't pick out what it was supposed to be. "Marimo."

"Hm?"

"How much did these cost?"

Zoro shot him a smug grin. "Just a couple of logs that needed chopping... And some charm."

"You." The cook blinked, stretching out like a cat to rest his chin on his hands, lips twitching as he tried to hide his awed smile. "Charm."

"Oi! I can be charming when I want to be!" The swordsman scowled at Sanji's fond, disbelieving scoff. "I charmed you, didn't I?"

"Yes, well—" Sanji felt a little breathless, buoyant, like if he let go of the tub he'd float with no effort at all. "Yes, I suppose you did." He held still, heart fluttering in the hollow of his throat as Zoro's face softened, leaning forward to poke at something in his hair.

"You've got gunpowder in your bangs."

"I— Ugh, I know!" he complained, rolling over with a dramatic sigh.

"Well, hurry up and pick one, then!"

"Pick one?" Sanji lurched up again, bubbles sloshing everywhere, eyes flicking between Zoro and the soaps. "I can't just pick one, they all smell so good and they're too pretty to—"

"Oh, for the love of— Curly, can you just pick one and let me wash your hair?" Zoro deadpanned, crossing his arms over his chest and completely oblivious to the way he'd just made Sanji's entire system freeze, the inconsiderate moss-headed bastard.

If a cannonball crashed into their ship again, Sanji wouldn't have noticed. If the Sunny was sinking, he wouldn't have cared. He was much too preoccupied with staring at the man sitting in front of him, skin flushed with the warmth, green hair mussed as it always was, soaps that he'd bought for Sanji on a whim in his lap. The cook's fingers dug into the edge of the tub and gripped until ceramic squeaked. Zoro wanted to wash his hair.

Zoro's throat bobbed as he swallowed, clearly fighting the urge to look away. "Look, if you don't want—"

"No!" Sanji yelped, startling himself enough that he nearly clapped his hands over his own mouth. "No, I— This one," he breathed, reaching for the plain brown bar and pressing it into Zoro's palm. "This one." He knew that he probably looked nearly shocked, eyes so wide it must have been unsettling, but his chest ached something fierce when he breathed in deep down all the way to his gut and he couldn't help it. His water must have been getting cold by now but he didn't feel it at all.

Zoro's lashes fluttered as he shifted in his seat, carefully wrapping the rest of the soaps up and placing them aside. "Okay, then. Turn around."

Sanji flipped, sitting still as Zoro gently pulled the tie from his hair and slipped it around his own wrist, holding back a shiver when calloused hands cupped his face to guide him nearer the running tap. The water seemed warm, but not warmer than Zoro himself; the swordsman always seemed to run ridiculously hot and Sanji—

"Relax," Zoro murmured, his hand broad and steady against the back of Sanji's head. "I've got you, cook. Lean back."

And Sanji was slowly coming to realise that he was loathe to deny Zoro anything, so he did. He let his weight sink back against Zoro's hand, trusting the swordsman to hold him up, letting his eyes close as Zoro carefully poured water over his scalp until his curls were soaked. He didn't open them even as he was pushed back up, settling comfortably in the tub as Zoro lathered the soap in his hands. What remaining suds left in the tub lapped at his collarbones; the water was a soothing pressure all around his torso, and he didn't bother hiding his soft sigh when Zoro's fingers slid into his hair.

"S'getting long." Firm fingertips started scrubbing at his scalp, kneading into spots of tension Sanji didn't even know he had. "You gonna cut it?"

"Mm? No," he sighed, shuddering when Zoro dragged his thumbs up from his nape. "Think I w'na grow it out."

Zoro hummed at that, tipping the cook's head to the side. "You'll look pretty."

"I know I will. And you'll tell me every day."

"Oh, will I, now?"

"Mhm."

The swordsman scoffed without any bite, doing something with his fingers that made Sanji melt. "You're so cocky."

"Mhm," Sanji mumbled again, not even bothering to find out what he was agreeing to. He had better things to focus on. "Just... keep doing that."

He heard Zoro chuckle and then pretty much zoned out completely, tension bleeding from his muscles, letting Zoro move his head this way and that. His bathwater was tepid at this point; he didn't care. Zoro's hands were big and warm and as the bubbles drifted down to his shoulders, he finally realised what this bar was scented with.

Sandalwood suffused his senses, a deep creamy sweetness with an undercurrent of leather and earth. With what little wherewithal he had left, Sanji decided that it suited Zoro more than it did him. Maybe he'd try to convince the mosshead to take it for himself. A few kisses should be bribery enough. Fingertips dug beneath the bones just behind his ears, working until the ache dissipated, and Sanji felt his shoulders slump because God, that felt good.

He didn't know how long he sat there, drifting blissfully between sleep and Zoro's fingers scrubbing at his crown, gingerly detangling his hair, but if you had to ask him his answer would be not long enough. His eyes fluttered open when Zoro tapped his cheek, and he squinted at the light. "Wh—"

"Wake up, baby. Gotta rinse."

The pet name made something tucked inside his ribcage pull tight like a gasp, but Sanji just closed his eyes again. "Just a while longer..."

Zoro chuckled as Sanji's head lolled in his palm. "We should get you to bed."

"Noooooo." Was he whining? This was ridiculous. He really didn't care.

"You're a spoiled prince," Zoro said matter-of-factly.

"Your fault." Sanji discreetly cracked one eye open to gauge the swordsman's reaction and immediately closed it when he saw Zoro's expression, sucking in a hitched breath.

That was enough devotion in a glance to kill a man, and it tore through Sanji like a fucking bullet. Right through the ribs, in and out faster than he could stop it, so quick that he didn't even realise until his love was bleeding out of him, all over his hands, filling his mouth, colouring his teeth, honeyed at the back of his throat and finally he'd be able to see how much of it his heart held. He didn't mind. He didn't think he ever would, actually; he'd fill this bathtub with red if it meant that Zoro would see. If it meant that he would understand how every time he looked at Sanji like that it felt like he had Sanji's heart in his fist, his lungs in a vice, his goddamn life under his thumb.

Sanji had come to terms with it long ago. He put his soul in these battle-scarred hands every day and he trusted them to be gentle because he knew that they could, they would be, for him. Even now, Zoro took his weight easily, one palm at his nape and the other stopping suds from getting into his eyes and it meant far too much for something so simple, but that was just how it worked, wasn't it?

The cook swallowed hard, allowing himself one more moment before pushing up so Zoro wouldn't accidentally waterboard him. It would possibly be hilarious but he might also very possibly just die, considering how low his guard was. The thought made him laugh a little, strained with how his head was tipped back; he saw Zoro give him a weird look upside-down and decided that he was either more tired than he'd thought or he'd had more of the wine than he'd realised.

Zoro rinsed his hair quickly, but he was no less meticulous than he had been at the beginning. It was something that Sanji had refused to admit he admired at first, that single-minded intensity regarding the things Zoro cared about, and oh, wasn't that a thought? That he belonged within that distinction now. Sanji pulled his knees to his chest when the swordsman leaned over to grab the towel he had set out, scrunching the cook's hair dry as best he could and then dropping the fluffy white cloth over his head just to make him laugh.

The bottle of wine was relatively full when Sanji picked it up, holding it up to the light as Zoro dried his hair. "Guess I didn't finish it after all."

"Yeah, well." Zoro shrugged as he took it from him to put aside and tugged gently on a stray curl. "Nobody's gonna want it now that it has your spit in it."

Sanji scoffed. "You'd still drink it. You'd drink any booze."

"...Yeah, I would."

Zoro's eyes were a soft grey as he stood up. Sanji had a feeling that he could have left out the second part of that statement and the answer would still be the same.

He let Zoro pull him up out of the tub, wrap him in the towel and hold open the pair of briefs he'd left for him to step into. He held his arms up as Zoro pulled his soft sleep shirt over his head, brazen as if he didn't know full well the shirt was Zoro's to begin with. If it were any other time he might have protested against being helped to dress like a child— but for now he'd just refuse to admit that he enjoyed it, enjoyed being cared for, even in minute ways like this. Plausible deniability and all that.

Sanji didn't resist as the swordsman took his hand, leading him back to the men's quarters and tugging the covers up for him, patting them into place around his shoulders as he settled. The bed dipped by his hip where Zoro sat, and Sanji sighed as his damp bangs were brushed away from his face. Zoro liked seeing both his eyes, he'd noticed. Maybe he'd start wearing his hair back more often.

"Goodnight, cook," Zoro whispered, leaning down to press a soft kiss to Sanji's temple.

Sanji's brain was full of cotton and sandalwood suds. He squeezed over underneath the blankets, cupping Zoro's face in his palms. "Stay."

The swordsman laughed under his breath. "Haven't showered."

Sanji considered letting him in anyway, but yep, nope, guess his brain wasn't that full of cotton. "Make it quick," he ordered, the effect broken by the massive yawn that interrupted his last word. Pulling Zoro down for a proper kiss was easier than breathing, the press of their lips just enough to wrap warmth over his skin like a blanket. "And use the soap from just now."

Zoro huffed at the words murmured against his mouth. "Spoiled."

"Your fault," Sanji yawned again, jabbing a finger into Zoro's chest before waving him away.

He heard his boyfriend's rumble of a laugh, smiled into his pillow as Zoro's acquiescence was brushed over his cheek, before the lamp was turned down and the door opened and shut. He'd been serious about Zoro being quick; they both slept better when they shared a bunk, and today had been more than enough of a shitshow for them to have earned a good night's rest.

Sanji snuggled down, fully intent on waiting.

He was asleep between one breath and the next.

(And if he woke briefly to curl closer when Zoro slid half-asleep into bed behind him, clean and warm and smelling of sandalwood, well. Neither of them would remember it in the morning.)

thank you for reading! part 2 where sanji takes care of zoro is already in the works, so keep your eyes peeled if you're interested :)

#wishing i was sanji rn #i'm telling you that man is fussy about his drinks but zoro knows his preference down to the last flavour note #that l.a.s. vino pirate blend is a real thing btw and it's absolutely delicious #zosan #zosan fanfic #one piece zosan #op zosan #zoro x sanji #roronoa zoro #black leg sanji #sanji #one piece sanji #zoro #one piece zoro #one piece #ino writes #it has been SUCH a long day it's 3am again #but writing this was like a balm to my soul

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ravenssilver · 6 months

Note

Phantom/Aeon waking up from a nightmare while rolling with someone and craves comfort but is too scared to ask for it?

mmm aeon angst.. my favorite👹

1k words of aeon having a reoccurring nightmare and being too nervous to outright ask for comfort.

cw: nightmare of the Pit, detailed summoning process from aeon’s pov, aeon continues to be traumatized, more of my aeon lore and a bit of how i see the pit :)

under the cut if you please<3

Darkness.

Deep, deep darkness.

Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.

It was all he remembered before he felt it.

Cold. He felt extremely cold. His feet planted on something every time he stepped forward. The ground was almost soft, but it made him sick every time his felt his feet sink into it.

He tripped after a few minutes of wandering, looking behind him and down at the ground, only to see a bone.

A sickly feeling bubbled in his throat as he looked a few feet to the right, squinting through the darkness just to seeing bits and pieces of the skeleton that the bone was a part of.

He quickly turned around again and began running, trying to ignore the dizziness in his skull as he felt a sharp, painful tug in his soul.

He ran and ran and ran, eventually falling to his knees and sobbing when the pain in his chest was too much to bear.

Then, he was choking, like all the little oxygen in the Pit had been sucked away. He clawed at his throat, coughing and heaving in the dust of the wasteland around him into his lungs.

He felt the ice cold wind suddenly be evaporated into steam as his skin burned with the heat of a thousand suns, Aeon choking out a cry of agony as he planted a hand on the flesh-like material under him. Sweat escaped his pores, dripping off of his nose as he trembled and tried to heave in the oxygen that was absent from his surroundings.

His eyes rolled back after an excruciating minute and a half, his body going limp and collapsing onto the sickly soft ground.

His consciousness faded. Though, not before he felt a sudden grab of his ankle as he was yanked-

Aeon gasped as he jolted awake, a choked sound of surprise leaving him as he fell off the edge of his bed. He grunted as he hit the cold floor of his room, still tied up in his blankets.

His lilac eyes darted around the room for a moment before he slowly sat up, feeling the fear and adrenaline coursing through his system as he thought about the nightmare he had just woken up from.

Then the tears started.

Aeon didn’t want to go back to the Pit. He didn’t even want to think about it. He had a life with his new pack. He was happy.

So why couldn’t he shake that damn dream?

Aeon slowly rose to his feet after fighting to get free from the blankets. His legs shook as he tried to get his wits about him, holding back his whimpers and cries so only his shadow casted by the moon would hear.

He laid back down in his cold bed, curling up into himself with a shaky sigh as he closed his eyes, only to snap them open again as he was met with the vision of the Pit.

Aeon swallowed harshly and rolled onto his back, staring up at his ceiling.

He wanted someone from his pack. Dewdrop, Mountain, Aurora would’ve been just fine. But no.. he wanted Swiss.

Of course, wanting was what got him to that damn wasteland in the first place. Constantly searching, finding, and taking things that he simply wanted in his human life was what got him under Mammon’s control.

That is until Copia saved him.

With that damned summoning ritual.

Aeon shivered as he thought about the air that had been stolen from his lungs, which he learned was courtesy of Cirrus and Cumulus providing their element to Copia’s ritual.

He remembered how he got a preview of Dew’s anger and initial hatred for him when he felt heat that only fire could bring spreading over him. Heat that was prosperous on earth. Fire that Aeon once longed for in the barren wasteland. The sweat that only Rain’s element of water could provide in Limbo. The way his body went stiff like the bark of a tree, Mountain’s element tied with Rain and Dewdrop’s.

Aeon wanted Swiss. Badly.

The multi was the only one who hadn’t participated in Aeon’s trauma. He didn’t help with the ritual that quite literally killed him again before dragging him kicking and screaming Topside.

Swiss was his safety when he could finally open his half-blinded eyes again.

But he didn’t want to be seen as weak.

All the other ghouls got over their summoning. Aurora was over it to the best of Aeon’s knowledge, so why wasn’t Aeon over his own?

Aeon shook his head and got out of bed, walking on wobbly legs out of his room and to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

Though, as he walked into the kitchen, he saw Swiss standing there on his phone as the microwave hummed. Aeon froze dead in his tracks, his bloodshot eyes widening as he saw a slightly blurry outline of Swiss.

“Hey, honeybat,” Swiss smiled as he glanced at Aeon, only to do a quick double take. “Woah… are you okay?” Swiss asked, setting his phone down on the island counter and walking over to Aeon. Aeon sighed shakily, knowing he couldn’t lie to Swiss no matter how badly he wanted to.

The smaller ghoul shook his head, keeping his eyes set on Swiss’ chest as to avoid eye contact.

“Nightmare?” Swiss asked, gently cupping Aeon’s jaw and lifting his head so he could look into Aeon’s lilac eyes. Aeon sniffled and nodded. “The same one.” He muttered.

Swiss frowned and pulled Aeon into a hug.

“You floaty?” Swiss asked softly, knowing Aeon sometimes got in his own head and went back to the Pit mentally. “I was for a minute. I’m okay now.” Aeon mumbled, nuzzling his nose into the crook of Swiss’ neck.

Swiss nodded, slipping his clawed fingers into Aeon’s shaggy hair and gently massaging. Swiss began breathing deeply, silently instructing Aeon to follow his actions and breathe with him.

Aeon subconsciously followed his actions, lulling himself into an almost half-asleep state. Swiss kissed at the base of Aeon’s horn.

“You’re here with me, honeybat. You’re warm, you’re breathing just fine. You’re here.” Swiss whispered, squeezing Aeon just the slightest bit more to help ground him in the moment.

Aeon sighed in relief and relaxed even more in Swiss’ hold, finding his eyes slipping shut as Swiss held him in a way that was nothing but loving and protective.

He was there. Aeon was standing there, in the kitchen with Swiss.

He’s okay.

#ghost band #aeon ghoul #the band ghost #ghost the band #phantom ghoul #ravenssilver writes #swiss ghoul #nameless ghouls #swiss x aeon #swiss x phantom #aeon’s a sin of greed #i will die on this hill #raven’s responses

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b4mpyre-k1zz3s · 6 months

Note

YESSS IM SO EXCITED YOU WRITE FOR RYAN FHDNDBFBFJ. Would you write like reader is part of the CKY crew and they’ve both had crushes on each other and like a gary flirting and then she’s thinking it’s unrequited so she gets like a Bf and I wanna know how ryan would feel about this like i wanna see his jealousy and shit talking with bam fjjfgnnkdjffnhy (sorry i had to much caffeine with my meds this morning lol) WHHDHDJAN THANK YOUUUU!!!!

Drunk Love

Y/N and Ryan are best friends, blissfully unaware of eachother’s feelings.

Ryan Dunn X Fem!Reader

(Fluff)

2k Words

Warnings: Suggestive content, nudity, alcohol, description of injury, fighting, jealousy, crude language

An: Thank you for the request!! I had a fun time writing more in depth for Ryan! If anyone is wondering why Bam always sleeps naked in my fics it’s because of a story he told on Radio Bam! You can find it on YouTube under “Bam Gets Caught”, but it’s not the onky time to my memory that he’s talked about sleeping naked XD! Besides that, I actually had a couple requests i combined to create this fic so I included the ones I didn’t reply to directly but still used below! :)

“Watchin’ the little back n’ forth thing you’ve got with her’s painful. I mean-“ Bam leaned over on his side, propping his head up with a hand while laying on the adjacent bed, “Just quit the pussy shit, dude.” Ryan ran a hand through his blonde, sweat soaked hand as the sounds of the running shower made white noise in the background. “It’s not easy, man! I mean, I’ve known her since we've been in diapers.” Sighing, Ryan finally looked at Bam, “I'm sorry- I just can’t take you seriously when you’re naked.” It was a casualty of their closeness that he was very comfortable being nude in front of his best friend, but he didn’t seem to care in the slightest, moving to get up, “You know what? If you’re not gonna tell her, I will.”

“No way! She’s in the shower!” Like a startled animal, Bam broke into a sprint on a dime, nearly reaching the bathroom door handle before Ryan hurled himself off of the bed, tackling him to the scratchy hotel room carpet. His vision was a blur of un-vacuumed orange carpet and pale man skin as the two wrestled, thumping and rolling around and cursing through clenched teeth. But in an act of perfect timing, that’s exactly when you opened the bathroom door. Wrapped in a white towel, hot steam billowed around you as you stared down at the scene at your feet- Ryan pinning a completely exhausted Bam down on his back by his skinny little arms as he straddled him, the two of them making direct eye contact with you. Your mind went blank. “I, uh…did I interrupt something…?”

“It’s wrestling!” They seemed to speak in unison. Bam added hurriedly, “It’s a guy thing.” Panicking and trying to find a way out of this situation, Ryan played along, “Yeah, yeah- total guy thing.” You raised an eyebrow, “So, you wrestle naked?” Easily slipping out from under him and not caring if you saw him, Bam walked into the bathroom, squeezing past you as you still stood shocked in the doorway, “Yeah, Greco-Roman style. Totally!”

You and Ryan sat on top of the covers on his bed as you dried off, only half watching tv. There was some sort of tension between you and him that you really couldn't place. Maybe it was you thinking about technically sharing a bed with him. Maybe it was him thinking about you in that towel. Sniffing the air, Ryan broke the silent tension, “What's that smell?” You sighed in relief that you finally had something to talk about, accidentally replying a little too eagerly, “Oh! I bought some new shampoo.” He sat up a little bit straighter next to you, glancing down at you curiously, “Any, uh- any reason?” You shrugged, “Nah, just felt like it.” Ryan smiled at you. “It’s nice.”

Ryan could hardly remember what stunt he got hurt doing, but the blood dripping into his right eye from the gash on his forehead blurred his vision as he tried to get his bearings. His head spun as he pulled himself up from the pavement, little bits of gravel and dirt caked into his skin and hair. There goes that shower. At least it makes for good footage, he thought, as the rest of the crew cheered while looking back at the footage through the display of Rick’s camcorder.

But just as the cameras turned off, in came Y/N. Oh, Y/N. You kneeled down in front of the dazed man, and you could practically see the little birds and stars flying around Ryan’s head as you reached into your pocket, pulling out some first aid supplies. After a few years of this, you learned to keep this kind of stuff on you due to the nature of what you did- either that, or you'd have to drive bam to the ER again with another horribly infected wound while he wailed in the backseat like a baby. Tearing open the alcohol wipe with your teeth, you gingerly moved the wet curls that stuck to your best friend’s forehead before wiping the cut tenderly, little streaks of red showing through the thin wipe.

There was something in the way that you cleaned his wounds and tended to him better than any of the guys- or hell, better than he ever cared for himself. The alcohol stung and he winced, hissing air through his teeth. You chuckled, “Oh, don’t be a baby…” Your body was so close to him that Ryan could feel the heat radiating off of you as you blew gently on the alcohol soaked cut, the liquid rapidly drying on his face. Oh. Oh, yeah. Yep. He was getting a hard on.

Luckily, you didn’t seem to notice as you finished up, shoving the used wipes into your pocket, “There, all better!” Ryan chuckled and, for just a second, you lingered there, maybe a little too close to him for a little too long. But it felt so normal- so right. After a few heartbeats, you pulled away a little reluctantly. He smiled as you gave him a hand, helping him up while he was still a little dizzy, “Hey, thanks for that…”

“It’s nothing! Don’t worry about it.”

Bam groaned childishly, “If you like her so much, just fuckin’ say it!” Ryan relented that it still hadn’t gotten through his thick skull while he nursed that head injury from earlier with a bag of frozen peas. “She’s already got a boyfriend. It’s not gonna happen!” He was an asshole of a boyfriend too, Ryan thought, real scum. He was always so close to you whenever you all hung out as a group, just hanging off of you like he couldn’t stand by himself. Maybe Dunn felt a little envious of all of your body heat that was being absorbed by that dirtbag, but he would never say that to you. “I mean, he’s a fucking dick, but…” All he received from the other man was a shrug in return. “So? I’ve fucked chicks with boyfriends.” Bam sneered, making his way to the door, “Why don’t you just get’er name tattooed on your forehead if you’re so into her?” It’s not like Bam could get the point if he sat on it and it stuck in his ass. Rolling his eyes, Ryan didn’t even notice until his buddy was about hallway down the hall till he heard the echo of his voice, “Hey, Y/N! Listen, I got-“

Before he could even think, he was out in that hallway after him, jumping on Bam before he could finish his sentence. He landed right at your feet, nearly on the toes of your shoes. You peered over the scene as the two, fully clothed this time thank god, tussled in front of you, grunting and muttering cuss words beneath their breath. Eventually, he got Bam’s head pinned firmly to the ground and he looked up at you with those wide, baby blue eyes, cracking a tired smile as he caught his breath. “Hey…” You had to resist blushing, reminding yourself that your heart really shouldn’t be beating as fast for your best friend. “Where’re you two going?” Bam squirmed, muttering something that got spoken over. “The, uh- the bar! We’re going to the bar! You wanna join?”

That act of quick thinking actually worked better than he had planned. Ryan’s half thought out excuse led him to score what was basically- practically a date with you. The only problem was that his wingman was also the biggest cockblock in history. “So,” You leaned towards Ryan, scoping the place out idly, “you wanna get a table?” He glanced over to Bam for an answer, maybe even some smart ass response, but nope. Nothing. In the few minutes you three were there, he had already left and picked up a chick at the bar. Dunn was on his own and maybe not thinking clearly, but he replied anyway, “Uh…yeah, sure!”

“God…” Ryan’s head buzzed as he gazed at you from across the table, maybe just a little too close as he chuckled, “you’ll never guess what Bam told me earlier…” Giggly, you didn’t even think to move, breathing in the same booze scented air as him, “What…?” Your mouth moved lazily and the same was true for Ryan as he murmured, “He said I should get’cher name tattooed- On m’forehead.” He gestured with a finger to the top of his head. “Oh, that idiot…” You smiled, leaning forward just enough that your foreheads touched. While intoxicated, it didn’t seem like that bad of an idea- but not his face. His face was too cute, but maybe the arm. That would look nice, yeah. In fact, it was kinda romantic. Sighing, you sat there for a while, your eyelashes brushing against each others before speaking up, “M’tired…” Ryan looked at you through heavy lids as you slurred, your eyes falling, “Can I go back’t your room tonight?”

God, it was like fireworks were going off inside of Ryan’s head, soldiers giving a twenty one gun salute, angels singing, eccetera. Maybe, just maybe- maaaaybe this might be a sign you liked him back, but god it just felt too good to be true. Even with a stomach full of booze, all he could barely stutter out was, “Uh, sure. Yeah.”

So that’s how you ended up in Ryan’s bed. Sure, you were fully clothed but nonetheless it meant something. The bed felt so nice, so warm and cozy with the two of you in it; hotel beds are made to be shared, you thought, feeling the heat from his body press against your back, not noticing how quickly his heart was beating against you. Ryan thanked god. Slowly but very surely, the two of you were both drifting off to sleep when he piped up, his lips barely moving against your neck as he spoke. What he meant to say was, ‘I think I like you.’ but it came out more like,“I think I love you….I mean, I have for a while.” Time stopped as Ryan felt his face get hot, holding a breath. He felt the giggle reverberate through your body as you dreamily smiled up at him, making eye contact the best you could while reclining to rest your head on his shoulder, speaking just barely above a whisper, “I love you too.” Just like that, you fell asleep, leaving Ryan awake to process what the hell just happened to him.

You were still soundly asleep when the man you were snuggled up against blinked his eyes open, rolling over to face the warmth behind him. “W-what…dude!” Ryan whisper-yelled, “Get out!” Bam simply threw his arm over him, murmuring while half asleep, “Go back’t sleep…”

#jackass #ryan dunn #bam margera #jackass fanfiction #jackass fanfic #fluff #jackass x reader #ryan dunn x reader

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honeybleed · 4 months

Text

content & warnings: established relationship, fem!reader, suggestive and allusions to sex mdni

author’s note: cooked sumn quick for yew bae @softwiingz 💓 hope u like it tee hee AND DAT ANON WHO SIMPED FOR YELENA IN MY INBOX IF U SEE DIS!

word count: 0.7k

It had taken a long time for Yelena to lower her walls around you.

She'd grown up never receiving affection. She was accustomed to lying and manipulating to get what she wanted.

An intimidating figure that made people tread carefully around her.

But it all changed when you came along and as much as she hated to admit it, you had her wrapped around your finger.

After a small spat which led to a heated argument, which then ended up in intense lovemaking, you gazed at your lover.

You were the only one who could make her cheeks the dusty rose and her eyes glimmer this way.

"I really love you." You said gently as you beamed at her, your breaths labored and heavy as you stroked her cheek.

Yelena smiled softly, feeling a warmth spread through her chest at your words.

"I love you too, my sweet girl," She says tenderly, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. "Always."

Soon enough, you sat on the rim of the bathtub as she lounged in the ceramic grand tub, head tilted back as steam billowed from the hot water.

"I can feel you staring." She said as she didn't meet your gaze. Even though you'd been together a while and she knew you loved her, she still hated the feeling of insecurity always looming over her.

Of course, her slender build and towering figure helped in her line of work but the last thing she wanted to do was intimidate the woman she loved.

"How could I not when my girlfriend is so gorgeous?" You responded in a matter-of-fact tone, earning a chuckle from her.

"Say something about my height and get it over with." Yelena replied.

"You're tall." You said plainly.

Yelena leaned back in the tub, enjoying the sensation of the hot water swirling around her body.

"Heh, yeah I know," She chuckled, relieved you settled for a statement instead of something that may have rubbed her the wrong way. "I've had people comment on it my whole life. It used to bother me, but now I quite like it."

You cupped the side of her face and slowly kissed her.

"I love how tall you are. So sexy." You settled on with a smile.

Yelena returned the kiss, her lips soft and pliant against yours.

"Mmh...I'm glad you find me sexy," She murmured against your lips. "I think you're incredibly sexy too."

She pulled you close, wrapping her arms around you and holding her tightly.

"In fact, I can barely keep my hands off you," Yelena whispered huskily. "Every time I see you, I just want to take you to bed and make love to you for hours."

You straddled her lap in the hot water and giggled.

"Your body is so gorgeous too.." You murmured as you glided your hand across her taut muscles.

Yelena let out something between a half-groan of pleasure and a shy laugh as you straddled her lap, feeling the heat between your bodies.

"You're making it hard to resist you," She said, her voice low and husky with desire. She ran her hands over your body, marvelling at the way your skin felt under her fingers.

Wordlessly, her eyes drinking in every inch of your body, grasping your hip. You settled to sit between her legs, back against her chest as she draped her arm over you.

Your fingers interlaced and your heart quickened.

"May I ask you something?" She asked softly as she nuzzled her face into the crook of your neck.

"Shoot."

"What did you first think of me...?"

You sighed.

"I always used to think you were kinda scary.." You said with an uneasy laugh, hoping you didn't hurt her. As much as the front she always had up, she was a total softie underneath it all.

"Don't know what I was expecting to hear." Yelena said with a hollow laugh as she chuckled. Regardless, it didn't sting. Not with the warmth of the water and the closeness of her girlfriend relaxing her.

She played with your fingers, tracing circles on the back of your hand with her thumb.

"Maybe I am a little bit scary," Yelena continued. "But only to people who don't know me. You know I'd never hurt you, right?"

"I know, Lena." You said fondly. "I trust you and you make me happy."

She tilted her head down to kiss the top of your head, feeling her heart flutter.

"As long as you're happy, that's all that matters to me," Yelena said softly. "I'll do anything to make you happy."

#aot x reader #yelena aot #aot yelena #aot yelena x reader #aot x female reader #aot x fem!reader #aot fluff #⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ nara scribbles

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gojonish · 4 months

Text

one could only dream || ᵏᵃᵏᵘᶜʰᵒ

he told you he'd protect you. so why is he the one threatening your life right now?

pairing: kakucho hitto x fem!reader

context: szn three spoilers, angst (no comfort), character death, violence and guns, definitely some grammar/spelling mistakes

note: i quite literally forgot the name of this timeline but it was the timeline where kakucho kills takemichi and naoto yk yk

growing up, you and kakucho were inseparable.

ever since the day you met him at the convenience store, you knew he was going to be your other half. despite you being a big figure in toman and him being tenjiku's second in command, both of you still figured out a way to be together.

now that you two were older, your relationship had taken the next step. you officially moved in with him and left all the gang stuff behind, wanting to live a nice and quiet life.

kakucho still stayed in a gang, but you didn't mind it. he knew how to separate his work and personal life, which you were grateful for. you were also thankful he didn't bring up his best friend, izana, because you absolutely despised him. you still hadn't forgiven him for plotting emma's death.

but somehow you could forgive kakucho and you didn't know why.

maybe it was the way he kissed you so gently and held you so warmly. maybe it was the way he told you he loved you every single day. maybe it was the way he put your safety first, promising to protect you from anything and anyone.

so why was he pointing a gun at you right now?

you thought he cared about you- he loved you. he told you he'd protect you.

one could only dream.

two hours earlier

"when are you and your man going to get married? i swear, you guys are attached at the hip at this point."

you and your friend were currently hanging out at a cafe, the coffee in your hands still steaming hot.

you chuckled, "to be honest, i think he's hiding something from me."

your friend gasped, "no way! do you think he's hiding a ring?"

"maybe! i don't know! i don't wanna get my hopes up," you smiled thinking about how kakucho had been oddly suspicious lately.

"girl, trust me, that man is head over heels for you. what has he been doing that makes you so suspicious of him?"

you pursed your lips, "well, he's been a lot more nervous around me recently. i don't know why!"

"it's definitely cause he's scared to propose."

"kaku's always been nervous about things like that. it took him all his courage to ask me to be his girlfriend."

"okay, say he proposes tomorrow. are you ready for marriage?"

marriage?

you've been with kakucho for years. you know he could be an amazing husband, with his caring nature and loving aspects.

"yeah," you smiled, "i'd love for him to be my husband."

"it won't be long before kids start coming too."

you spit out the coffee you were drinking, "okay that's a little too far into the future!"

she laughed at your reaction, but you couldn't help but think of having a family with kakucho. him taking care of the kids and taking them to school. you could get used to a life like that.

one could only dream.

after coming back from the cafe, you entered your and kakucho's house.

you should've known something was wrong when you saw izana's shoes on the doorstep.

"kaku? i saw your car out, are you home?" your voice rang out through the house.

no answer.

you exhaled and called out kakucho's name again, but he still didn't answer. from the window, you saw small droplets of water drip down the clear glass.

"hm, it's raining."

looking away from the window, you glanced over at the living room to see if there was any evidence of him being there.

that was when you saw it.

your white couch, stained with something red. it wasn't a lot of blood, just a smidge of it.

something was wrong.

"kaku?" you called out as you ran upstairs, trying to find him.

that was when you heard a grunt coming from your master bedroom.

you swallowed the lump in your throat and pushed open the door to see your boyfriend, bloodied and beaten up. izana was right next to him, smiling at the kakucho while whispering sayings to him.

"kaku?" you called out and ran to him, "oh my god, kaku what happened?"

ignoring the white-haired man beside you, you cupped kakucho's face and examined his injuries. "who did this to you? oh my gosh, you have bruises everywhere, what happened?"

you didn't notice that kakucho didn't give you a single glance when you came into the room. when he finally looked at you, his eyes were blank. it looked like the life had been sucked out of them.

you had no choice but to get answers from the male next to you, "kurokawa, what happened?"

the white-haired man just shrugged and smiled, "he seemed to forget what his priorities in life were. i had to reteach them to him."

"you did this to him?"

izana nodded, causing your hand to fly up and slap him across the face. you clenched your jaw, raising your hand to do it again when someone grabbed your wrist to stop you.

kakucho did.

"kaku, let go! he hurt you!" you wriggled in his grip, but he was too strong.

"stop, y/n, he's right. i have forgotten what's important in this world."

"baby, what are you talking about?"

he let go of your wrist and glared at you. there was a certain look in his eyes, a look you knew was dangerous.

you were scared.

"you," he started, "are a problem."

"don't problems need to be taken care of?"

"what?" was the only thing you could muster out.

"he met takemitchy the other day," izana said from behind you, "it was a real eye-opener for him."

kakucho spoke, "takemichi is an obstacle and only causes problems, so-"

"i killed him."

you stared at kakucho, tears starting to build up in your eyes, "k-kaku, i thought you said you didn't kill."

he ignored what you said, "you- you are causing problems because you are distracting. you distract me from izana's real goal. you distract me from izana. i am loyal to only izana."

it sounded like he was trying to convince himself of that too.

you were panicking. this wasn't your kakucho. your kakucho wouldn't look at you like that. your kakucho wouldn't say these things.

"kaku-"

there's a gun. he pulled it out of his pocket. you didn't even notice he had one on him.

he's pointing it at you. his finger is on the trigger.

"did kurokawa say something to you? is that why you're like this?"

"i only told him what was right. it seemed like he was living some fairytale with you, so i told him to get rid of you," izana smiled, "kakucho, do it."

you saw kakucho's lips go into a fine line, then replied, "yes, izana."

you didn't feel it at first. you didn't know why but you just didn't. it wasn't until a few seconds later that you felt your breathing intensify and red liquid trickle onto your skin. you dropped to the ground, small and quick breaths escaping your mouth.

kakucho crouched near you, watching as the life slowly left you eyes.

"k-kaku," you mustered out, tears running down your face, "i loved you. i always l-loved you. how could you do this?"

he let out a heavy sigh, "i'm sorry, y/n."

"i w-wanted to marry you," you choked and saw your vision get blurry.

he sighed, "one could only dream, y/n."

he shut your eyes after seeing you breathe out your last breath and stood back up.

"one could only dream,” he repeated softly, not knowing if he was saying it to you or to himself this time.

#IM SORRY I WAS FEELING ANGSTY #tokyo revengers #kakucho x reader #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo rev x you #angst #kakucho #kakucho x you

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lazerswordweilder · 2 months

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What, those aren’t in the same universe- yes they are. <<<the thoughts running through my head when I made a crossover of Marvel, Star Wars, Danny Phantom (Dannys stays in Amity and never leaves though, he literally just happens to become a halfa) and DC.

(Its important to note this was written in 2024)

A fact known to Anakin and Anakin alone is that Obi-Wan was reincarnated to take part in Star Wars. He was born in the year 1849 on earth, it was the earth we exist on today, only the future differs. His name was John Kyle, an archeologist who is a retired medic from a long forgotten war but also had unofficial diplomatic and fighting training from various tight spots. Years ago John found a child lying in the desert.

Anakin however has simple been alive all those years. He was born in a desert to a human mother captured by scientists ahead of their times, the experimented on her, and he was born from it. He lay on the desert dying for years, his unwelcome powers keeping him alive and suffering, this sparked his hatred, of the desert, of the sand, of the scientists. The only thing he remembered were his mother’s dying words “Anakin, you’ll- you’ll be so great, you’ll walk the skies.” as she succumbed to her wounds after giving birth, at least he remembers his name Anakin.

Anakin grew up under John, John becoming the father he never had. By the time he was 20 the war had ended but it scarred him, he never forgot the screams. By the time he was 25 he had stopped aging, blaming the scientists and not explaining his past to John out of fear of rejection. By the time he was 34 and John was 52 John thought he had connected the dots, his apprentice had stolen an artifact they’d both been hunting for and it had carried an ancient plage or power that slowed him down from aging! One day while exploring a volcano it turned active, John saw his chance and pushed the boy in and ran.

Anakin burnt alive, his anger roaring up inside of him the same time a natural portal to the ghost zone opened up in the volcano. Anakins eyes turned fire red, the blood in his veins turned to lava, his rage burnt hotter than the lava ever could. Anakin becomes an oxymoron, even beyond the fact he’s half alive half dead, he died in lava yet his weakness is water (guy never learnt how to swim, after being held underwater and nearly drowned he never really got over it), all ghosts hate what killed them and have weaknesses to it, Anakins death is his power. He takes on an apparence which is basically what he looks like normally but with fangs, sometimes his eyes reflect light or glow though, and when he gets mad his skin heats up, turning charred and what should be exposed flesh turns into lava below the charred skin, also his hair starts to turn to flame. Anakins obsession is revenge and his core is permanently stained with rage.

By the time Anakin gets out a grip on his powers World War 1 starts drafting with the year being 1914, Anakin (despite technically being dead) immediately decides that’s a good idea for blowing off steam and also a way to get actually military experience to murder John with. He hacks a comuptor and signs himself up, putting in his photo, his medical stuff, experience, and everything else on the form, then as he stares at the name box he remembers he’s meant to be dead, he choses a fitting name, Achilles. Achilles wrath matched Anakins rage, Achilles heel matched Anakins weakness to water, and hopefully Anakin will be able to bring the name Achilles some more modern glory.

He gets his dog tag and as sits in a cart heading to war with the rest of his team, Anakin runs his finger over the ingraving in it, careful not to melt it, Achilles. As bordom sets in he remembered other stories of ancient greek, more specifically Aphrodite Areia, Areia was an epithet meaning war like and it seperated Aphrodite Areia from her more commenly known version Aphrodite. He supposes he needs one to if there are to be two great Achilles, in his head he starts referring to himself as Anakin Achilles.

After 4 years at war and another year spent wandering the contry Anakin comes back to where he knows John is just to find out he died of old age around the time the war ended at 68, despite this being quite impressive despite modern medican Anakin promptly decides to go jump into another volcano. It is like a warm bath. But it cheered Anakin up- seriously, who knew volcanos were so nice when you weren’t burning alive?

After this he grabs the blackest clothes he can find and knows will be easy to move in, some fabric which he wraps around his face from nose to chin, tucks his dog tag safely into his clothes, and walked into the nearest bar he knew had shady dealing going on. He promptly intoduced himself as an assasin looking for training and gets pointed to a table full of tough looking people.

Two years later he’s been an assasin apprentice for years, under someone he thinks is called Ra Ah Ghoul. Anakin serves the guy for another 4 years despite thinking he’s kind of an asshole, then runs away. He’s learnt enough to avoid most of Ghouls traps and makes it out with a minor stab wound, he doesn’t really have organs anymore so he’s not worried.

He does take a moment to sit on someones roof top and stare at the stars, he thinks back to his first memories and remembers with a small laugh, the one you give when you’re shocked and in awe and a little breathless but happy, he knows his full name now, his birth name, Anakin Skywalker. He thinks fondly about it and feels like a child for the first time in years, staring up the the stars with the last thing his mother gave him, his name, just for a moment Anakins rage is fully forgotten.

Suddenly he feels to small, he looks down a sees the chubby hands of a baby, he actually physically blinks at that. He can work with this, his life is over due for a bit of normal anyways, he stores his dog tag (the only thing he has attachment to) inside his rib cage using a helpful bit of intangibility and floats down to the door step. He can hear a young, kind, childless couple inside.

Anakin- now named William, danced with his wife, Julia Lotis. He was so truely smitten with her and for the first time in so long he loved the domestic life style, Julia had finally quited the rage always simmering in his core, she was his Angel. He brought Julia in for a kiss and admired her, her long chocolate hair, her warm brown eyes that seemed like cozy fires during the winter rather then his uncontrolled rage. He swung her around in a circle and reached out to catch her when her eyes went wide, he caught her lifeless- pulseless- breathless- body and stared.

He stared at her for a long time, trying to hold back the cracks in his core, but it was like reading a book when the ending was so obvious. He conculded he was going to kill everyone within the city once he got out of shock, Anakin dropped his Angel to the floor, moving to the cupboard on autopilot, he grabbed his darkest clothes and put them on, the knifes he had hidden away just in case were quickly hidden in the folds of his outfit, he pulled out his dog tag, letting it’s reasuring weight lay heavy on his chest.

He walked all the way to Gotham, he didn’t even move as it hailed and stormed, as the ground shook and trees collapses. He walked to Metropolis, it was 1975, anyone who knew anything knew the Justice League was looking for new hires, he wasn’t looking for a job but if he could get to one of the interviews then he’d be immediately be recognised as a threat and subdued.

He stormed into the daily planet building where he knew at least Superman was holding interviews, he scared everyone out of the elevator with a death glare and walked straight into the room he could hear Superman talking in, he pushed open the door “Uh, interviews are over.” Superman abruptly paused, probably taking in Anakins disheveled and disassociating self, Anakin ignored the knife that dropped to the ground “Are you- here for an interview?” Superman asked. Anakin glared at him and jumped Superman as red over took his vision.

Anakin woke up in a cell, a wary Superman stood in front of him dripping his lava “If- you could’ve just said you had fire powers.” Superman said, Anakin sagged down into the chains and Superman looked at him for a second before realisation hit him “You weren’t here to show us your powers, you’re here so we could stop you.” Superman was suddenly no longer hesitant “Sounds like a hero to me, I think we’ve got your powers down, but if you want a spot in the League I only need your name.” It doesn’t take him a second to answer “Achilles.”

By 2002 it was doomsday, for the third time this month. The hero thing certainly wasn’t boring, and various other heros had helped Anakin gain an appreciation for technology, he was a technopath. Any

This is getting way too long, also I accidentally queued it so I’ll just reblog with more.

#crossover #lazerswordweilder writes #danny phantom #dp #dpxdc #dc #marvel #Star Wars

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flownwrong · 4 months

Text

perpetuum mobile (due South fic)

Fraser/Kowalski, 5k words, tags: first kiss, post-canon, 5+1 things

Summary: Nothing's permanent.

Written for @duesouthseekritsanta as a treat for @feroxargentea. Thanks to @wicked3659 for running dSSS this year, and happy 20th birthday to the exchange!

read on ao3

1999, 22:37, Yukon

"Three bags. How is it three bags? I'm not even doing souvenirs." Ray ran his hands through his hair, said, "Ow, ow, fucking ow," as the edge of his sleeve produced a visible spark of static electricity.

Dief nosed his way under Ray's elbow and stuck his face deep into a bag. Probably the one half-full with dirty laundry, seeing as Ray had spent a truly impressive amount of time putting the packing off.

Ray grabbed Dief's muzzle firmly in two hands and gave it an impatient shake. "Hey, eyes up here. How is it three bags, Dief?"

Dief snorted with enough derision to make the cabin walls wilt and nudged his way to the fireplace.

"Right, right. I thought we borrowed most of this stuff, how did..."

He crouched down and reached up a blind hand over his shoulder. Fraser put Ray's green scarf into the waiting palm. He wanted desperately to ask Ray why he was taking his winter gear back home in the first place.

"You're welcome to store any clothing or, ah, personal items here, between your visits." The words felt as presumptuous as they did inevitable.

Ray spun quickly on his knees and squinted at him, ever good at hearing the unsaid.

Fraser's neck was itching under the collar of his flannel. Days were getting hotter fast. "I can mail them to you at your request. The postal service here is really remarkably fast, considering."

Ray fingered the little hole in the scarf where a stitch had come undone. "No, no, you hang onto them."

His mouth was downturned, but his laugh lines were clearer now than Fraser has ever seen them. Between the windburn and the sun, Ray's skin was darker, eager to reveal the expressive motions of his face. Fraser looked his fill, already missing it fiercely.

Ray ducked his head. "Shit, when I was moving out, Stella looked like she'd nuke everything I didn't carry on my back." He linked his fingers behind his neck and shivered without moving, somehow. When he looked back up, his smile was a jolt of radiance. "Imagine how much shit I'd hoard around here in another ten years."

His throat felt tight as he reached for the thick mittens Ray'd hated so much on the trail. Feel like the T-Rex, he'd said, staring at the steaming snow where his cocoa mug landed, mouth downturned and quivering like a child's. Can't do a damn thing without you.

He'd been exhausted, one of those first days out, searching desperately for something that Fraser could never seem to get into focus, like looking through a dirty lens, or maybe from too close a distance. By the time they got back and Ray held the cabin door open for Fraser, he was—serene. A Ray he hoped nobody else had gotten to see.

Fraser came back with no serenity in sight, which was confusing and bitter and made him helplessly afraid of the four walls around him, of going back into the vastness beyond.

He turned the mittens over, traced the creases where they'd molded themselves to Ray's hands with his thumb. He could feel Ray's eyes following the motion.

Ray shook his head, his mouth a tight line. "Here, gimme a hand," he said and yanked hard at the duffel's zipper, once, twice, watching it catch on the green weave.

They took Maggie's kindly offered pickup to the airstrip. It was almost summer, the terrain free of snow. Diefenbaker refused to get out, sounding torn between whining and snarling. Ray climbed halfway up the seat and leaned into the back.

"Hey, mutt, you take that back," he said, hand pressed firmly into the thick fur at Dief's nape, "sure I'm coming back. Every chance I get, and—I'm not leaving, okay?" Ray's voice dropped, raw and frantic. "I can do it. You—I can do it." Fraser watched him lower his head, hands going slack on Dief, and hoped against all hope Ray knew who he was talking to.

Halfway through dinner—the last of Ray's artless stew made in a bout of either inspiration or procrastination—he put the spoon down and picked up the mittens he'd discarded on the windowsill. Can't do a damn thing without you, he thought, and felt like his chest was breaking open.

2000, 09:07, the 2-7

Huey was on Ray's phone as he walked up to his desk, which was nothing unusual, what with him being less than ten minutes late and probably not expected for another thirty, and Frannie was practically jumping up to peek over his shoulder, gesturing wildly as he spun around and around until she was practically growling.

He snapped his fingers at Ray, mouthing Fraser, and Ray ducked under Frannie's arm, snatching the phone from his hand.

"Ray?" the receiver asked in a tinny Fraser-voice.

"Hey. Couldn't wait to get me at home?" He was smiling like a sap, so loud it was kind of embarrassing. Two days since they last spoke. A real hair-trigger.

Someone called Fraser's name faintly on the other end of the line.

"Thank you kindly, Maggie, that won't be necessary, and Ray, I'm calling to give you my new address, actually," Fraser said without pausing for breath.

"At how much AM on a Monday? Wait, Maggie's there?"

"Ah, yes, Ray. She insisted on driving me from the airport."

Frannie nudged his shoulder and swerved him bodily until he could see Welsh tapping his left wrist and motioning for Ray to shake a leg. Ray made like Dief and shook his head instead, earning himself some dizziness. "Say again?"

"Ah, I should've mentioned it sooner, but—I took a posting at Whitehorse, as of tomorrow."

"You what? Wait, wait, your cabin didn't burn down or anything? Is Maggie—what?"

Frannie sure knew an opening when she saw one, so that was when she did a solid Michael Jordan impression and snatched the phone from Ray's hands.

"Frase! It's so good to hear you! You sound really, and I mean really—oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't realize"—she gave Ray a major stink-eye for no apparent reason—"yeah, yeah, I'll bring your highest regards, I'm printing them out as we speak. Yes, yes, I'm doing good, just, really good, I had this great date last night—well, not so great, kind of a douche, so it's not like it's going anywhere, and, HEY!"

"This," Ray brandished the recaptured receiver over his head, "is now a pay phone. Come back with a quarter, or, you know, don't."

That got him a shrug and a seriously dangerous-looking eye roll, but that was par for the course.

"Yeah, Fraser. So, what?"

Fraser cleared his throat twice, and wow, there must've been something really awkward he was going to drop on Ray's head.

"Well, Ray, the fact of it is, I found myself somewhat... unmoored."

"Unmoored."

"Yes, Ray. Unmoored. Out of my depth."

"In the Territories?" Ray's brow was gonna fall off if he frowned any harder.

"Yes—that is, no. It occurred to me that I have grown—possibly—too accustomed to the state of being, as you would put it, 'a capella'."

Ray swallowed and nodded, then blinked and realized he'd probably do better sitting down for this conversation.

"A capella, huh." He elbowed yesterday's paperwork aside and dropped into his chair. "Fraser, you do realize you get to choose now? If you wanna hide from the world, you go, convene with the caribou. You earned it."

He could hear Fraser rubbing his brow. "I don't want to hide from the world, Ray."

Ray opened his mouth to say, yes, 'course you do, I get it, but then—Fraser probably had fifty words for lonely, like the Inuit and their thing for snow. Maybe lonely has lost some of its appeal. Maybe lonely changed meaning, hopped across the dictionary, and, in a truly bizarre way, landed near "home". Well, shit. Trust Fraser to not act in Fraser's best interests.

"Okay," he heard himself say, raising a placating hand. "That's, um, good to hear."

"You know, Ray, John Keats noted in one of his odes that solitude is easier borne where one has the freedom to be expressly and unmistakably alone with nature rather than 'among the jumbled heap of murky buildings'. My time in Chicago was certainly proof enough. But the more I return to his words, the more I look at another passage—"

Huey caught his eye and mimed something vaguely threatening.

"—poem, which—"

Ray groaned and dragged a hand over his face. "Jesus, Fraser. Now is not the time to be quoting poetry at me."

"Oh. Ray, I realise I sound somewhat maudlin—"

Ray waved his hand at the phone, annoyed at having his attention torn—never a good tactic with Fraser. "No, no, no, I don't mean it like—listen, Welsh will have my hide if I keep this up much longer. I'll get back to you when I'm home—or, um, when you're home, I guess. Gimme the number, will you?"

"Ah. Certainly, Ray."

Ray grabbed a post-it and wrote the digits down hastily.

"Be safe," Fraser said.

"Right. I will."

He dropped the handset back and stood up before he realized that, a) Fraser could easily call him after getting home, unless he planned to catch Ray with his hands tied and, b) with Fraser across the border and a zillion miles away, the murky buildings did suck massive balls.

He chewed on his thumbnail on his way to Welsh's office.

He chewed on it again after asking the kid behind the counter at the book spot near his place what the poem with the buildings was.

2003, 14:21, N. Octavia Ave

"This is ass-backwards, Fraser," Ray said, balancing seven shoeboxes between two arms and a knee, as Francesca said, "I'll nail your ass backwards to my door if you drop those pumps, bro," and Fraser said, "How so, Ray?"

"It's two weeks in Chicago. There's squat to do. What's not ass-backwards about this?"

Ray was being a hypocrite, really.

"Seeing as you have been spending much of your leave in Canada, I don't think you have a leg to stand on."

"Hell yes I don't, I'm holding shoes on my knee. Which, why are we hauling my ex-fake-sister's schmutter on our backs through the whole city on my day off?"

"It's three blocks, geez!" Francesca said.

"I'm sure you would appreciate the help were your positions reversed, Ray," Fraser added.

"Hey, casa de Ray is not going anywhere anytime soon," Ray said, defensive.

Francesca snorted and looked over her shoulder. "I bet."

Ray bared his teeth at her. "What's that supposed to mean?" He glanced longingly at a passing truck. "Jesus, Frannie, why don't you at least use those rolling rack things?"

Francesca sighed a sigh of the horribly wronged. "I'll roll your rack if—"

"I got it, I got it, you can pipe down now." Ray's hands twitched on the boxes, but he settled for a scowl, thankfully.

"Ray, it's only a short trip on foot—"

"Fraser, you're carrying dresses—"

"Yeah, Ray, and with you hogging the Fraser—"

"Me what?"

"Although, perhaps, in your condition, Francesca—"

"It's not a bug, Fraser, it's called pregnancy—"

"Me what?"

Francesca threw her hands up and stopped, turning on her heel. "Alright, alright." She closed her eyes and counted to ten under her breath, then jabbed a finger at Ray and kept talking to Fraser. "I know you came to see Ray, but it is two weeks. Forgive me for not realizing some time together that isn't yelling at each other over lasagna is too much to ask."

His hands grew cold so fast he wanted to push them against his rapidly warming face. "Francesca, I'm sorry I have given you the impression I don't enjoy my time together with you and your family."

She sighed wearily and looked skyward. "Impression. Right."

"There is a lot in this city for me to come back to," Fraser said, meeting Ray's eyes, wide and wounded.

Francesca's face softened into something like pity. Ray ducked his head and put the revered pumps down slowly.

"Hey," he said, and nudged Francesca's right boot gently with his left. "Whadda you say we get you settled and, um, you can make tea—or I can make tea, just not Fraser, I'm not drinking tree juice—and then we veg out? It's my day off. Got nowhere to be."

Francesca looked confused, primed for an explosion that never happened. Ray sent him a flash of a wink.

Ray was wrong: two weeks, even confined to city limits, was not nearly enough.

By the time Francesca let them go, it was getting dark. Ray scuffed the toe of his boot against the asphalt. "So, uh. Wanna catch a show? Or, or we could just get some grub—"

"I would love that, Ray."

Ray smiled, endearingly lopsided, then not, then snorted helplessly and started laughing, flinging an arm around Fraser's shoulders.

"Come on," he said, giving him a brief but firm shake. He piled Fraser into the GTO, put his glasses on without complaining—for once—about how he could drive just fine asleep with his hands tied, tossed him the cell phone and turned the keys in the ignition. "Chinese okay with you?"

Fraser dialed the number from memory and recited their order, which hadn't changed in years.

Ray's place was largely unchanged, too, and he felt a hot prick of shame for hoping that it was so. Ray'd swapped the television set for a newer, bigger one, and the plumbing seemed to have improved, the metallic smell of tap water less noticeable. The one toothbrush was perched precariously on the edge of the bathroom sink, near the empty cup.

The kitchen counter was still covered in junk mail. The photograph Maggie took of them, two days before Ray had to go, was pinned high on the fridge with a Leafs magnet he didn't expect to see here. He hoped Ray didn't look too hard at the picture—he thought he could see the cornered quality of his own gaze from where he was standing.

"Stay the night?" Ray said, folding back the flaps of his takeout bag and peering inside like he was waiting for something to jump out of it.

Fraser picked up the chopsticks—the nice ones Ray had bought for him and never commented on while snapping apart his own and rolling them between his palms to smooth out any splinters, every time for months and months of takeout dinners—and inhaled the fragrant steam, keeping his breathing even.

The hotel was a safety catch, as was, he supposed, the careful timing of their respective vacations so that they never overlapped fully. Ray had always held up his part of the unspoken deal. If this was a trust fall, he was willing to take it.

"Alright."

Ray's lips curved into a smile, unguarded and relieved, and Fraser's ribs felt tight.

2005, 23:49, apt. 309

Ray unbuckled the holster, his shoulder throbbing sharply.

He was slower than Elaine this time—equal parts pathetic and unnerving. Forty three was not it. He was not gonna croak at forty three, courtesy of some crook with sharp elbows. Fraser would laugh at him. Well, no, Fraser would frown at him. Dief would totally laugh at him.

He grabbed a Miller out of the fridge and picked up the phone.

"Hello, Ray," Fraser said, muffled.

"Hey yourself. Whatcha eating?"

"Oh—pizza."

"You got mushrooms on there?"

"As a matter of fact, yes, I do."

"Right," Ray said and looked at the mess of dishes in the sink. "Your funeral." He picked up the brush and stared at it before dropping it back into a dirty bowl and popping the beer open.

"How did the housewarming go?"

Elaine's building was nice, newer than his, a little further uptown, her apartment uncluttered but lived-in already. He'd stuck to people-watching in the corner, mostly, and wallowed in being too old to go anywhere now. It was kind of a good wallow, not sad or anything, just—content. Eight years on, he still liked his digs. Not like there was any need for a second bedroom—Fraser had always been cool with the couch.

"Uh, great, great. Got herself a good guy, Tony. A lawyer, no less. Wedding's next April."

Fraser was somehow smiling politely into his ear.

"What? What?"

"Oh, nothing, Ray. I got reminded of—that's not important."

Ray groaned. "God, Fraser. Elaine is way prettier—and sharper—than I ever was. And Tony—let's just say Stella he ain't. They'll knock it out of the park, you just wait."

"You've never not been sharp, Ray. Or, ah—eye-catching," Fraser said in this soft voice reserved for late night, before-bed calls. Ray had to squeeze his eyes shut for a second.

"Yeah, right, I'm a regular James Dean. Oh, and, speaking of—Vecchio was there. He's back, him and Stella."

"So I've heard."

There was a shrill whistle of the kettle in the background, and the clutter of Fraser putting the phone down to deal with it. Ray frowned at the mysterious stain on his sleeve and swallowed another mouthful of beer.

Stella wasn't at Elaine's, which was just as well, but Vecchio was, and they'd chatted about cars—Vecchio got zip right—and Frannie's youngest, and it was fine, none of the edgy shit Ray'd come to expect from himself.

Fraser picked up the phone with a click. "Sorry, Ray. Please go on."

"Um, yeah. We're all co-pathetic now. He's got this whole private dick deal—hey, why am I telling you this? You two must gossip like fishwives."

"Well, yes, we did talk not so long ago. But that's beside the point." There was a smile in Fraser's voice. Beside the point, huh.

Ray kind of drifted into the bedroom, shrugged out of his beat-up flannel, yanked the t-shirt up, got the phone tangled in it and gave up, flopping sideways onto the bed.

The shoulder was sore as hell. The glasses were starting to hurt, too, jammed between the phone and his ear, and he flung them onto the nightstand with a bit too much force, picked up the beer instead.

"How's the mutt?"

A gruff Dief-noise was reassuringly loud on the line. Last time he heard it there was an unpleasant wheeze tucked onto the end; not this time. He huffed back. Never let it be said he wasn't a great conversationalist. When it came to aging half-wolves who couldn't see or hear him, anyway.

"Hey, I know, I know. Took one today myself."

Dief sneezed. He knew it, he knew he'd never live it down.

"Diefenbaker, that was uncalled for." A grumble. "Are you alright, Ray?"

"Peachy. Bastard dislocated my shoulder. Elaine got him cuffed before I could whack him."

"I'm glad to hear that. You two make a good team."

"That we do, Fraser, that we do."

He got kinda lucky when Elaine made detective. He'd worked alone, mostly, a fact he knew Fraser knew and didn't seem too happy about. So when he'd finally partnered up with her, Fraser seemed to unclench, and she could hold her own, didn't chafe, didn't bring up any Fraser-memories.

Then again, his Fraser-memories were now as much snowball fights and Chicago museums he didn't even know existed and the flannel Fraser'd left on the couch that first night Ray got over himself and asked him to stay—because really, the whole hotel thing was chicken—as they were burning cars and ice crevasses and Vecchio's crappy fake mustache signaling his personal apocalypse.

"Hey," he said, as it clicked, not a hunch but a stone cold truth, "we made it."

There was a long pause, and Ray swore he could hear Fraser thinking. "Yes, Ray, so you've said."

"No, no, not me and Elaine. I meant, um, you and me." He willed Fraser to know, because he didn't have the right words to mean six years of calls and emails and goddamn visits—and here they were, off the clock and on the phone, pizza and beer, and the two zillion kilometers (zillion miles was around two zillion kilometers, he remembered) mattered fuck all.

"I suppose so, Ray," Fraser said, low, and Ray couldn't stop imagining his stupid dimples and his stupid graying temples and the passing months he'll get to see on his face, next visit, next coming back, soon, soon.

2006, 09:02, Whitehorse

He signed at the last line and set the turtle paperweight down on the forms, like a lock. Immediately thought better of it, picked the pile up and evened the edges out against the table, lengthwise first.

He was lucky to get so much—his job, the only one that mattered; his home, not a long trip away; the kindness the city has extended to him, of not having to be alone and not having to be lost. Ray, highly irregular, always coming back.

It gave him courage. Made it easier to think, I want this, even if I have to leave, I want it, and pick up the pen, the phone, the bags, start moving.

"Hi, Frase," Ray said on the phone, hoarse with sleep.

"Ray."

"Mm-hmm?"

"I'm putting in for a transfer. I thought you would appreciate a, ah, a heads-up this time."

"Oh, hey, right! The promotion—you going back up there to hug the trees, or, or, the lichens?"

Fraser knew Ray could name most of the trees and the lichens and the bird species to boot, but that was neither here nor there. He resisted the urge to straighten out his uniform, seeing as he wasn't wearing one, on a Saturday morning in his own kitchen.

"No, Ray. As a matter of fact, there is an administrative position open at the consulate." He rubbed his eyebrow. "In Chicago."

There was a rustle of sheets—Ray sitting up in bed. "Admini—what, a desk job? Oh God, a Thatcher job?"

"Well, if you mean international espionage, then, no." He thought briefly on the oxymoronic quality of them discussing something they should have had no knowledge of in the first place.

"Don't—no." Ray sighed unevenly, then was silent for a long time.

He worried at the corner of the paper right next to his signature. The whole form would probably need redoing. "It's rather more restrictive than I would prefer, given the choice—then again, my duties as a sergeant would be less than ideal concerning the time I'd spend in my office, so it wouldn't be a big change. And, while we wouldn't be able to partner on cases like we used to—"

"You want to partner up with me?" Ray sounded—dangerous.

"It's hardly news to you, Ray."

Ray was gaining momentum as he spoke, louder and faster and more desperate. "Given the choice, what, given the choice?"

He stopped abruptly. Fraser imagined him running a hand through his hair, mussed with sleep and yesterday's helping of product.

"Listen, Frase. Can't you, dunno, wait until Monday?"

"I certainly could, Ray, but—oh." He had to put his elbows on the table and his face in his hands. The emptiness at his feet where Dief would curl up before still hurt acutely. "You don't want me back?" He sounded all of five years old and couldn't do a thing about it.

"No!" Ray's voice was a snarl, and it tore at Fraser's throat like it was his own. "God, Fraser, it's not back. Back is out there, back is away from that fucking desk, not Chicago."

It isn't Chicago, he wanted to say. You must know that much.

Ray's breathing came fast and uneven, like back in the GTO, when he shook apart after—and God, Fraser should have been smarter than this by now.

More rustling, the sound of Ray's open palm connecting with something solid once, twice. He wanted desperately to be standing there, to put his hand on the back of Ray's neck, rub circles against it like he didn't, hadn't dared to in that car.

"Ray—of all people, you know the most about what I can call home." It felt like a déjà vu. I don't want to hide from the world, Ray. He'd meant it more than anything, the choice of being alone where he'd been with Ray an unimaginable punishment.

There was a creak, like Ray was putting too much pressure on the receiver. "Yeah. Alright." He sniffled. "But, it's bad luck to paper shuffle on a Saturday morning, right?"

That was such a Ray non-sequitur it made him giggle recklessly. "Who said that, Ray?"

"Someone, I remember—they say it, okay? Just, go with me on this. Sleep on it. Forty-eight hours, and you do what you need to do. I have a hunch."

He opened his mouth to ask. Ray cut him off like he'd seen it.

"Uh-uh. Monday, okay? So we don't jinx it."

"So we don't jinx it," he repeated, willing to go with anything that got Ray saying sentences with the subject we.

The shrill ring of a doorbell almost knocked the phone out of Fraser's hand.

"Shit, should've left it broken," Ray mumbled. "Look, I have a, a thing here. I'll call you back, or, whatever, you know the drill. Just, forty-eight hours, okay? I'm counting."

"Forty-eight hours, Ray."

"Good."

He hung up, stared at the papers some more. Forty-eight hours had nothing on seven years.

Forty-eight hours, and Ray hadn't called, hadn't called it off, so Fraser walked into the RCMP building, up the stairs, turned left and—Ray was leaning against the wall, hands in the pockets of his beaten-up brown jacket, the same one he had on when he was leaving that first, most painful time. The slump of his shoulders screamed belligerent.

Ray pushed himself off the wall, jittery and graceful. "I've figured it out," he said, breathless. His hair was growing out, going half-heartedly for an unfamiliar slicked back look, and his eyes looked feverish. He looked younger than Fraser had ever known him, and older than he remembered. "I've figured it the fuck out. I quit, okay, I don't want to—" He kicked at the lone backpack at his feet. "Asked Stella to mail me what I need and nuke the rest."

Fraser couldn't take his eyes off him, three steps away, tried to think of something to say before he would inevitably move and knew the first thing out of his mouth would be a curse or a vow, no stopping it.

Ray crossed the distance and took the key from his limp hands, jammed it into the lock with too much force, said, c'mon, c'mon, and they were inside, door locked.

And then Ray was on Fraser, fists curled on his chest, forehead rubbing restlessly against his shoulder. "I figured it out, why didn't you say it, Fraser, Jesus, fucking desk job, fucking—poems, why didn't you just," and then Ray kissed him, or he kissed Ray, and someone was saying, "Fuck, I didn't know, I didn't know how, I didn't know, I swear," and they made it. They made it.

2023, 17:29, Yukon

"Ow, ow, fucking ow!"

He dropped the box and gave it a kick, and fuck, "Fuck, it better not be dishes in there."

Fraser picked the box up and stared at Ray's handwriting upside-down, frowned like he didn't get it, because of course he didn't, it was Ray's hand upside-down. "I don't believe so, Ray, if the weight and the sound are any indication."

He loaded the box into the back of the ancient pickup. If Ray was sentimental when he took it off Maggie's hands and rigged it up better than new, then it was a surprise to just about nobody.

"Good, good. I, uh, I really like Charlie's one."

Fraser hummed his agreement. "You know, she would make you another one if you asked."

"She's going to Vancouver, Frase."

"There are pottery wheels in Vancouver, Ray. In fact, Maggie said she had to argue with her for almost an hour about setting one up in the dormitory room."

Ray smiled and just knew he was gonna choke up, any second now. "Shit. Charlie's picking out prom dresses and we're—shit, Ben."

Fraser looked at him, and Ray was turned inside out not by the look itself, the same one Fraser had given him in the hallway at the ass-crack of dawn—seventeen, Jesus, years ago, the same one Fraser had given him many times before, if only Ray'd known how to—but it wasn't that, it was that they were both fucking retired and hauling their asses back into the great white only-two-of-us-here nowhere, and Fraser still had enough wonder in him, enough hesitance to look at Ray like he was an honest-to-god miracle.

Then he had the gall to look concerned. "We don't have to go, Ray. You like it here."

And, okay, that was it.

He picked the boxes up first, stacked the remaining ones neatly in the back. His back complained a little, which was okay, considering.

"C'mere," he said then, grabbed Fraser's hand impatiently and felt Fraser link their fingers together, easy as anything. Pulled some courage out of nowhere—which, hey, just how much longer would they have to do this courage thing?—and said, "Almost the highest bliss of human-kind, when to thy haunts two kindred spirits flee. Or, uh, however that goes."

Fraser's head snapped up, eyebrows quirking, mouth reaching for a grin, but kind of a wobbly one.

Ray shrugged and didn't look away. "So. You say that again to me and count the fucks I give."

Fraser took a few big, heaving breaths and reached for Ray's right hand, brought it up to his cheek, soft with the beard he'd been growing out for the past few weeks.

"Hey." Ray turned their linked fingers so Fraser could see. "Look."

Fraser stared at Ray's ring finger, which, by the way, still hurt like a bitch.

"That box caught on my damn wedding band."

Fraser's crow's feet gave him away before a smile broke over his face, a bright and hopeful thing. Ray kissed the corner of it, kissed his eyelids, and his jaw, and his temple, and thought of home.

#my writing #due south #fraser/rayk #fraser/kowalski #benton fraser #ray kowalski #due south fic

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thousandfourhundreddays · 2 years

Note

Can I request something with Ruben? Fluff/smut your choice

A/n Thank you for your request!! It’s my first Ruben piece so hope it’s ok!! Sorry that it’s so late, I wrote half of it weeks ago and only finished it off today. I’m not too sure how I feel about it but I hope you enjoy!!!❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

My Only Exception

Ruben made his way around your bedroom, going about his morning routine as quietly as he could, trying not to wake you, whilst unbeknown to him, you watched silently from the comfort of the bed, duvet pulled up to your chin as a smile pulled at your lips as you watched from a distance. Your eyes followed him as he pulled on a hoodie, his back muscles flexing as he moved, Ripples of sunlight flooding through the crack in the curtains, radiating off his skin. He turned towards you, expecting you to still be asleep, however, his eyes brightened as they met yours. Smiling widely, he brought his hand up to push his hood off the top of his head, before running his hand through his hair.

Your smile changed to a coy smirk as he took a long stride towards you, eyeing you for a second from his place at the end of the bed, before his knees hit the edge of the mattress. Crawling forward, he pinned his arms either side of your head, hovering over you before he brought his lips down to yours, his unshaved stubble grazing your skin softly as you hummed into the kiss.

“Morning” he purred, pulling away slightly to speak,

“Morning” you rushed, chasing his lips to capture them in another delicate kiss.

“Brew?”

“Mm, please” you accepted, feeling his smile against your lips before he vanished in the direction of the kitchen. A content sigh slipped through your lips as your eyes once again fluttered shut.

Not even five minutes later, Ruben returned, two steaming mugs in his hands. Carefully, he took a sip out of one as he held the other towards you, holding it low so you could take it without it spilling onto the crisp white sheets.

You send him a greatfull smile, silently thanking him as his hand ran down your arm, tracing a line from your wrist to your elbow, the tender action sending shivers down your spine as you eyed him over the rim of your mug,

“I won’t be long” he spoke softly,

Nodding in recognition, you watched him disappear into the bathroom whilst you settled back into the duvet, the cool sheets encompassing you as you basked in the early morning silence as you followed his movements through the open door of the en suite. Taking one last sip of your tea, you placed it on your bedside table before pulling yourself out from the comfort of the bed and tiptoed to join Ruben in the bathroom.

You reached across the counter for your toothbrush whilst Ruben stood leaning close to the mirror, attentively gliding his razor over his skin, being sure to avoid the bulk of his stubble, knowing you loved it when he kept it that little bit longer.

The near silence enveloped the both of you, the trickle of water hitting the porcelain strangely calming as Ruben came to wrap a strong arm around your waist, fingers reaching round to trace light shapes atop of your skin. Breathing out a content sigh, you tilted your head back to rest on his shoulder, savoring the precious few moments you get to spend with Ruben before he was dragged away from you by a million other things.

After not long, you both concluded your own tasks. Untangling yourself from his grasp, you turned to face him fully and he caught hold of your wrists gently, bringing your arms up to rest over his shoulders before lowering them back down to settle around your waist, hands clasped tightly behind you.

“Don’t go yet” you whispered, knowing his next task would be to leave the house for training,

He gave you that familiar look, one he gave every time you asked him to stay just that little bit longer, fully knowing it would make him late. A look filled with disappointment that he genuinely couldn’t stay home with you, amusement at your efforts to keep him to yourself, and love, however that was constant, an unbroken, unwavering gaze of love was always present in his eyes.

“I can’t, amor” he replied, his voice low, a whisper which replicated yours.

You huffed before raising on your toes to capture his lips in a kiss, cherishing the short time you had with him that morning as he tasted the cool, mint toothpaste on your lips, before an idea popped into your head…

Slowly, you pressed your body impossibly closer to his. Your fingers raking a little more harshly through the shortest part of his hair at the back of his neck. Your tongue slipped through his lips, in turn, drawing a pleasurable groan from the back of his throat.

You felt him smirk against your lips, he knew what you were doing,

Subtly, you began to creep backwards, purposefully keeping Ruben close, pulling him with you towards the door back into your bedroom,

“Y/n, I really can’t” he giggled, trying to refrain from giving in,

Hearing his words, you pushed your hips firmly against his, bringing a hand down from around his neck, running down his chest and under the soft material of his hoodie, using your index finger to trace his abs that hid underneath before tugging at the waistband of his shorts, never breaking the kiss once.

“No?” You challenged his attempt to brush off your proposition as you felt him harden against your lower stomach, causing a smirk to pull at your lips

A smug wave of triumph washed over you as you suddenly felt him begin to claw at your waist, a defeated whine escaped his lips as he gave in, his legs moved swiftly as he quickened your clumsy journey back to your bed,

Ruben may pride himself on being a man of routine, every morning running in a habitual cycle, an effortless rhythm that you watched enviously as you struggled to drag yourself out of bed every morning, but when it came to you, you were the only person in the word he would happily break his rules for, the only person he would gladly rush out of the door 20 minutes late for,

You were his only exception.

#ruben dias #ruben dias fluff #ruben dias smut #ruben dias imagine #man city #manchester city imagine

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padfootastic · 1 year

Note

Hello I have come to you with another Prongsfoot thought: James absolutely losing his mind when he comes home one day (or comes back to the dorm one day) to find Sirius wearing his jersey (and perhaps nothing else hehehe.)

oh but i’ve got just the thing for you, miss imp 😉 this is a headcanon i’ve had for the longest time, because james is absolutely the kind of person who loses his mind when his partner wears his name on them. and we already know anything sirius does is maddening for him sooooooo this is. a deadly combination.

(i’ve posted this before but it’s gotten lost in the Great Tumblr Archival System so i’m reposting it hehehehe)

“Alright, James, this can’t go on anymore,” Sirius said, voice firm, arms crossed across his chest. James blinked, eyes dragging up from where they’d been fixed on his collarbones, unusually exposed in the large jersey, to focus on furrowed brows and suspicious grey eyes.

“What can’t go on anymore?”

“This—whatever’s going on with you!” Sirius threw one arm out in emphasis. “You’ve been acting off the entire day, do you realise?”

James tilted his head in question, silently asking for him to elaborate. He knew he’s been…a little distracted, but it couldn’t have been so much as to call for this intervention, surely?

“James!” Sirius says, exasperated and really, that’s one too many times he’s called him by his full name. He can’t even remember the last time Sirius did that. “You crashed into a wall twice, tripped over Mrs. Norris’ tail and had to hide inside a suit of armor to avoid her claws—then you fell over in the damn thing and got a bump the size of an ostrich egg on your head. Five seconds ago, you almost plummeted off the staircase to your death and now you’ve been somewhere Not Here the entire time I’ve been talking. Seriously, what gives?”

Okay, maybe, put it that way, it sounded quite bad but James didn’t intend to be so scatter brained! He was having a perfectly decent time, had his head screwed on straight and then Sirius had to go and mess all that up! He was not prepared for the sight of him walking out of the shower, a cloud of steam escaping behind him. His hair was half wet and pulled back, cheeks flushed red from the heat and most importantly, he was wearing James’ Quidditch Jersey.

The one that was at least two sizes bigger than Sirius usual clothes. And the one that, when his best mate turned around, had POTTER emblazoned in huge letters across the shoulders. James had just stood there, jaw slack and fingers clenched around his tie, taking in the sight. He knew what his jersey looked like, had worn it hundreds of times, but he never knew it could be like this.

And that had just been the beginning. It seemed like with every passing hour, Sirius looked better in the damn thing than before which—shouldn’t be possible considering how extremely good he looked in the first place. Seriously, if James wasn’t as…confident as he was, he would’ve definitely gotten a complex by now. As it was, Wormtail always looked a bit peaky around Sirius. Just before their first class, Sirius’ had dried into his usual perfect curls, loose strands framing his face. By the time second rolled around, the jersey had slipped off one shoulder, exposing sharp collarbones. James didn’t even know bones could look so- so obscene but here he was, proven wrong. Right after lunch, Sirius had gotten frustrated with how much the fabric was flapping and had casually used his hair tie to knot it in the back.

This led to two things. First, his hair was now free to tumble around his face, leaving James with the strongest urge to run his hands through it, or perhaps even tick strands behind one ear. He only avoided doing so by utilising pressing his fingers into his palms to the point of pain. The second, more maddening, one was that now, it wasn’t just his unnervingly attractive shoulder but also his waist that was on tantalising display. Every time he stretched, or raised his hand in class, or ran a hand through his hair—the jersey would ride up until Sirius’ pale skin peeked through and honestly, was it really a wonder that James almost walked off the moving staircases the first time he got a glimpse of that happening?

The entire day was an exercise in making him lose his mind, he was certain. Somewhere, he had pissed off a deity and they wanted him to suffer because there was no other explanation for this. James had never been one to feel possessive. In fact, he loved sharing everything he had with the people around him. Their joy was his joy and all that. Hell, Sirius and him had been wearing each other’s clothes since first year when Sirius hadn’t had anything except uncomfortably formal robes for Christmas morning, which was an atrocity because everyone knew you wore ugly sweaters on the day so he’d given his to Sirius and DIY’d one for himself. Of course, as James started playing Quidditch and bulked up harder and faster than anyone could’ve predicted, it had decreased until the only things they really shared were robes and ties.

But seeing his name on Sirius? Plastered across his body, marking him as James’? He just knew, right there and then, that he could never go back. Now that he’d felt what it was like, that burning heat deep in his gut, the dizzying feeling of seeing Sirius look so…delicate—there was no way he couldn’t crave more of it. In his head, James had already started making plans for now he could, inconspicuously, get Sirius’ in his jersey more often. Because it absolutely has to happen again, James hasn’t had nowhere near enough of the sight.

“Jamie? James!” A hand waved in front of him, ripping him away from his pleasant daydreams of seeing Sirius in nothing but his jersey. His face flamed red, not even realising the direction his thoughts had travelled in until he blinked and saw Sirius standing in front of him, looking bemused and dressed perfectly respectably (James was trying very hard to ignore the skin visible just above his waistband.

“Er—sorry,” James said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Went away for a second there.”

“That’s exactly what I mean! You’ve been drifting away quite a bit today.”

“It’s not—Seriously, nothing’s wrong—“

“I never said it was,” Sirius said, shrewdly, making James immediately choke on his words as he tried to backtrack.

“No—That’s not…I mean—“ James’ teeth snapped shut with an incriminating ‘clack’ as Sirius steps closer to him, toed shoes touching at the tips. Close enough that they were breathing the same air, for James to see the shades of grey in Sirius’ eyes. Close enough that he could feel the movement of Sirius’ chest as he breathed deeply.

“Si?” he croaks, throat too dry all of a sudden.

“Won’t you tell me what happened, James?” Sirius’ voice was soft, pitched low and James had to strain his ears to hear him properly. He gulped unsteadily, eyes tracking the way Sirius tongue slipped out to wet his bottom lip, leaving a maddening shine behind.

“Si,” he said, again, tone matching Sirius’. One of his hands had, without his permission, travelled to the waist he’d been eyeing for the better part of the day. It was featherlight, barely even a touch, really, but the way Sirius shuddered when his hand made contact with warm skin was entirely too much for James’ already fraying self control. His fingers twitched, hard, in an attempt to stop but in the next second, they’d wrapped themselves entirely around the body in his arms. James’ forearm was pressed tight against Sirius’ back, their noses were mere inches away, and Sirius’ eyes were more than halfway shut.

James took a deep breath himself and let his hand press imprints into the curve of Sirius’ waist. The only response he got was the feeling of Sirius’ forehead pressing into his shoulder, arms wrapping around him in return.

It was then that James let his own shoulders unclench, let himself relax like he hadn’t the whole day. A soft smile lifted his lips as he thought about where to go from here

“You’ll wear this for me again, won’t you, darling?” he asked, pressing the question into Sirius’ dark curls with a kiss. He didn’t get a reply but he didn’t need one. Sirius’ hitched breath was enough of an answer for him.

#sirius black #james potter #bambibelle #prongsfoot #this is from months ago #but it’s one of my fav things #i’m so glad we’re on the same page here miss imp #bc james is just. floored.#also the light dom james vibes r *chefs kiss*#i love how shameless i am these days #not just reblogging but entirely reporting old stuff lmao #guess that’s what happens when ur in a ~dry spell #oh well #this scene of course leads into an established relationship where sirius stars doing this on purpose #WHILE wearing nothing else underneath #and bending over whenever possible (and even when not) bc he knows how much it affects james #especially in public #and love seeing him trying to hold onto his control (almost always unsuccessfully)#there’s a little vein that starts popping in his temple and his forearms flex delicious w how hard he clenches #yum #(miss imp pls never stop the asks/prompts—you’re my one source of inspiration lol)#pen’s asks #pen’s writing

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arlertsbaby · 7 months

Text

codependency, condescension, mentions of violence, mentions of gangs i think? idk. kidnapping, ran puts his hands on reader, no happy ending u all end up with a cliffhanger kek

this makes zero sense!!!! pls

The footprints your boots leave in the snow are crisp and orderly as you pick at your nails while nearing the steps of your boyfriend's apartment building. The code you know punches itself into the number board and when the speaker buzzes and the door clicks open, you step inside.

His door was exactly 2 floors above where you're standing; it only took you two seconds to bolt up each floor to reach his and knock on his door twice, and then once again.

You hear a quiet rustling come from inside the apartment for a moment before the door clicks and opens slightly; blue eyes look through the crack of the door secured by only a thin chain, and he unchains the door and opens it fully.

“I know ‘m not supposed to be here,” your gaze pointed down, your hands fidget, and you’re shifting your weight between your legs while standing on his foot mat, “I just wanted to say things havent been the same without you, I can't manage without you.”

A moment of silence passes by as Inui looks you in your eyes. You cant scan his emotions, or tell what he’s feeling at the moment, but he does let out a short breath before stepping to the side to allow you to come in.

You sit with your legs tucked under yourself at his couch, and you can hear the faint hum of his fish tank from across the living room. He’s around the corner of the room inside his kitchen, making hot water for the two of you while you sit in silence.

A few moments pass by when he comes into the warm lit space, two cups in hand, and hands one to you.

“I don’t have mint at the moment,” Inui sits down next to you with both hands on his mug. He looks at you with a sad smile on his face. “I’m sorry for how things are currently going.” His face is indifferent, his eyes looking over to your low ones.

He earns nothing short of a quiet grunt from you, meant to be a soft laugh to soften the tense situation you two were in; his fingers shift around his cup.

You’ve noticed from the moment he opened his door that his eyes looked darker, sadder, and sunken in, like the way yours were just a few moments before. You stopped crying only a short time ago, a tired, numb look on your face made everything you’ve experienced evident.

The white stuffed bunny that you’ve caught in your vision (Inui made it when he was seven, he says it's his last memory left of his late uncle, and that makes sense to you because of the messy stitches and missing plastic eye) on the couch is sitting about 2 and a half seats from you, and you’d have half a mind to reach for it if you weren’t currently fixing your lips to say a sentence.

“Just shaken up, that's all.” You breathe out, nod, and bring the cup closer to your face, sniffing the strong cinnamon smell wafting from the steam. You take a sip.

“Ah,” Inui sighs wearily. He isn't looking at you now, his eyes directed to the wall in front of you two, where a TV would stand if a long hallway wasn’t made in the middle.

“Has Koko mentioned anything about management lately?” You ask after you put your cup back down on the glass coffee table.

His face looks nothing short of a bad week, month even; yet he continues to speak.

“He hasn’t mentioned anything about the company's joint account since Ran pulled that stunt last meeting,” you shiver at the name, “real funny act to a guy who gets off on making a living hell out of people's lives.” Inui spits out the last word like it's a curse, and a sharp frown is shown on his face.

Haitani Ran was nothing short of an evil person. He didn’t care for anyone, except his associate members and his brother. He thought your bond with Inui was a waste of time, and approached him frequently to convince Inui to drop you.

Its 6pm when the sun sets, and the light blocking curtains Inui has installed gives his bedroom a quiet look. No artificial light is present, instead three vanilla candles are scattered around on tables; one near his closet, one on the dresser, and one on the nightstand beside the bed you were sitting on the edge of.

Inuis bedsheets are soft and blue, and that’s easy on the eyes, you think. Inui is a benevonlent person, so it shouldnt be a surprise that his house matches his interior.

A few moments have passed since you’ve sat on the bed, and by the time inui comes in you’re halfway under the covers running your index finger over his silk pillow cases. He chuckles under his breath.

He’s wearing a pair of blue athletic shorts, with what appears to be a white t-shirt wrapped around his right hand. His back is facing you as he’s fiddling with some things on his dresser, (that you assume is cologne and deodorant). He turns around once he’s finished.

He’s sliding the shirt on while making paces toward the bed on the other side of the room, and the candles illuminate his face and abdomen.

“I streamed all new law and order episodes every time they came on this week, thought you’d wanna watch them next time you came over.” He speaks in a matter-of-fact tone while grabbing the remote and climbing beside you onto the king-sized mattress. When the ‘on’ button is pressed, the remote makes a short click and the episode starts. You're not even 30 minutes into the first episode before you fall asleep on one of the blue pillows beside you. Inui tucks your shoulders under the covers.

“Ran, you can’t do this,” Inui sounds torn when you register his tone in your mind. He sounds far away, you can make out.

“Sure I can,” A familiar voice, supposedly Ran, answers back in a playful, but dangerous tone.

Your eyes slowly open and you see Ran standing in front of you. He can’t see you’re awake yet but when he begins to walk away, you adjust under the covers, and he catches that.

“Awh,” Ran stops in his tracks and turns his head toward you. Your eyes are fixed on his purple ones when he turns around.

“Look who's awake, Inui.” Inui’s gaze drops to the floor. You’ve lifted your head high enough by now to see his face, and he’s standing in the farthest corner of the room.

Fingers snap close to your face, making your nose scrunch involuntarily. Ran smiles when he sees you flinch.

“Hi,” He’s unforgiving when he places a heavy hand on the right side of your neck, yanking you out of your place under the covers to stand up on the cold hardwood floor.

“Ran, that hurts,” You hiccup.

“I’m not sure why you thought you’d be safe after denying Manjiros orders,” His grip tightens on the side of your neck.

Inui grimaces. Ran’s face moves closer to yours, and you try to pull away. He lets go of you, and you hunch over onto the floor.

“Anyway, I’ll be taking the girl to Mikey. Don’t try to make moves. Kokonoi already knows and he won’t be on your side anytime soon.” Ran speaks casually when he starts rummaging through the nightstand, fishing out Inui’s gun from the mess of clothes inside the drawer.

“We’ll be heading out, Inui.” Ran leans over, grabs your hand, and drags you to the door. You turn your head to face Inui, only shame and guilt plastered on his face. Ran notices this moment between you two (the face he makes at this realization is almost sickening) and laughs.

“You’d be the luckiest man in the world if you ever see your girl again,” Ran quips, and then turns to you, “and you, take that frown off your face,” He pinches at your cheek,

“It’s fucking unbecoming of you.”

#WHAT THE HELL #this makes no sense #just needed to post #ran x reader #inui x reader #dont flame me #agh #inui seishu #ran haitani #can you tell i havent finished tr #yes u can #HAH

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fallingfor-fics · 2 years

Text

Anarchy- Negan x Reader

⊹ Part 3 to Souvenir ⊹ (part 2 here) ⊹

Pairing: Negan x Female Reader

Warnings: Sex, sex, amd more raw, filthy, smut. Oral fem receiving. Little bit of bloodplay (if you can even considerate as that)

Word Count: 7.2k (OOPS)

Summary: Negan finally gives you what you want, and finally comes to his senses.

It had now been hours that had gone by and I was still waiting tirelessly in Negan's room. The sun had set and it was now approaching one o’clock. I had mixed up my own drink while he was away, just from other stuff on the cart, so I was feeling delightful. I had managed to get a nice buzz, or at least that's what I would say to him knowing im well into tipsy. I was once again sitting in bed and thinking about the insane but enticing man I'd been getting to know. I had been so lost in all of the technicalities of this I hadn't really stopped to think about how I was feeling in the whole thing. I didn't know what made the girls suspect I fancied Negan when that was just, not true in the slightest. He was really good in bed and that was about it. Yes sometimes his words would leave me speechless or the way he would kiss me could leave butterflies in my stomach, but I also had to make a deal with him in order to leave this place. I took the last sip of my drink, filling the cup with water this time and setting it on the nightstand. I walked slowly over to the window and looked out at the quiet community, everyone turned in for the night. I couldn't help an eerie feeling brush over me as I thought about what could be keeping Negan out this long. Especially with the rest of the people silent in their homes, if he was out with people or having a meeting surely there would still be lights on.

I let out a sigh and tore myself away from the window before deciding to snoop around some more. I looked in a few bedside drawers the most suspicious thing being a few vintage playboys which I honestly found pretty erotic, although crass. I went into the bathroom, shocked I had never really gotten a good look at it before. The shower was huge and as soon as my eyes laid upon it I knew I couldn't pass up the opportunity. I had never showered in a bathroom this nice in my entire life and who knew if I'd ever get the chance again. I peaked my head out of the bathroom to listen for any noise and then went to turn the water on. Negan had it really good, the bathroom filling with steam at the almost boiling hot water as I began to brush out my hair and then take off my dress. I prodded around in my lingerie as I grabbed a towel and hung it next to the shower. I couldn't help but check out the window once again, looking around for any sign of Negan's return. I frowned when I still saw nothing and made my way towards the bathroom again, stopping to switch on his record player, allowing whatever album was on to fill the room softly. I smiled at the peaceful setting and imagined Negan probably doing something similar on nights he decides to spend alone, which isn't often of course. I lightly ran my hands over my hips, admiring my frame in the mirror. Rarely was I able to appreciate my figure but I never failed to feel more like a woman than when I danced around half naked before a shower.

The alcohol ran through me sweetly, heightening my senses and allowing me to feel no shame in practically prancing to the music. As I enjoyed the Billy Idol vinyl that sang out a smile rose to my face and I let out a laugh. I decided it had been enough time spent messing around and I went to take off my undergarments but stopped when I heard the familiar sound of the heavy bedroom door opening and being slammed shut. I grabbed my chest at the sound and grew afraid he would be upset with what he was coming back to. I heard him muttering something before I slowly arose from the bathroom and he turned his gaze to me. I frowned when I saw his appearance, he was covered in blood and sweat, and was red in the face. “Negan what happened?” I asked softly as I shut off the music and walked back over to him. “People dont fucking understand how to listen thats what happened.” he scoffed, walking past me to take off his jacket and throw it on the couch. “Are you okay?” I asked, not really sure what to say or where the blood came from, though I was guessing most of it wasn't his.

He rubbed over his face, smearing some of the remaining wet crimson fluid from his cheek. “No, I'm not too happy right now, what are you doing?” he asked, looking over at me and looking me up and down. I gestured to the shower and he nodded. I moved to pour him a glass of whiskey without saying a thing and brought it over to him. He looked down at me standing before him with the glass and smiled. “I didn't even have to ask.” he remarked with a heavy breath as he began to calm down and I smiled, shrugging. He took the glass and just drank it as if it was a shot and my lips parted, “Okay.” I laughed and he set it down on the end table. “Look at you, making yourself comfortable hmm?” he lifted some hair off my shoulder before allowing it to fall back in place, his long fingers barely grazing along my skin. He raised a still hand to brush my cheek and I felt my heart beat slow down. I felt a bit of the blood paint onto my skin and he ignored the fact as he looked into my eyes and then over my chest. “I got tired of waiting.” I muttered and his dimples emerged on his cheeks as he went to slide the straps of my bra off my shoulders. I grabbed his hand softly and looked up at him with an unsure smile, “I think you need to clean up first.” I looked him over and he followed my gaze, “What? Cant handle a little blood princess? Would've never thought that’d stop you.” he laughed and I shook my head in disagreement. “Not when its blood from who knows how many people you just got done torturing.” I felt a little regret traveling through my body when I realized it wasn't really a necessary comment that I'd just spat out. The drinks, overall exhaustion, and the state of the man, had led me to drop my filter a smidge and release the snarky phrase. He tilted his head and leaned away slightly. I looked between his eyes, allowing the guilt to show slightly in mine to convince him I was maybe just tired.

“Is that how it's gonna be tonight?” he went ahead and asked, the playfulness pulling away from his voice as he stared me down waiting for me to answer. Instead I crossed my arms and looked down and my feet, not sure what to say. “Some people were trying to get in. Just trust me that I did what I had to do.” he added and I just nodded. I understood somewhat, but I also knew there was more to the story he wasn't telling me, and I was pretty sure I didn't want to hear about it. We also hardly spoke as is, usually communicating in our obnoxious remarks unless we were asking each other rare personal questions. Other than that our mouths are usually preoccupied with other activities… I looked up at him and he was trying to give a convincing sympathetic smile. After a brief silence I reached for the hem of his shirt and slowly began to lift it up, revealing his sweaty, slightly blood stained stomach and then chest. I felt a small smile creep onto my face at the slow reveal of the light chest hair that faded and trailed down his body. He welcomed my actions and helped me finish pulling it off, he took off his belt and jeans as well and moved to take off my bra. This time I didnt stop him and let out a small giggle at the feeling of his scruff against my stomach as he kissed it quickly while he removed my underwear. When he came back up I finally grabbed around his neck, ignoring the dried dark red blood that trailed across his face and down his neck as I kissed him. He smiled into my lips before grabbing my head gently as well and kissing me with just as much desire.

We had both been waiting all day long to have one another and now that we had no interruptions we took our time and had fun. He reached down and picked me up so he could keep his lips interlocked with mine. I wrapped my legs around him and he walked to the still running shower, setting me down in front of it and taking off his boxers. I smiled at the view and he just shook his head, smacking my ass and ushering me to get in. I followed the direction and stepped into the hot stream of water, Negan following behind and shutting the glass door. When we had both finally looked at one another I smiled to ease the awkward tension that rose between us. I looked to my right and saw a washcloth and some soap, grabbing the cloth and getting it wet. Negan quickly shampooed his hair as I prepared the washcloth with the body wash and watched as the red tinted water trickled down his chest and shoulders. “Like what you see?” he teased and I rolled my eyes before reaching up to scrub the blood off of him. I gently ran the washcloth over his chest, around his neck, and then his face.

When I got to his cheek and began gingerly wiping the blood from his forehead and temple, I tried my best to resist eye contact. I could feel his dark eyes on me and I slowed my movements as I reached the last bit on his chin and processed what I had just done. I nervously snapped my eyes up to his, the look in them only confirming my fears as he stared in silence at the moment. I hadn't realized how thick the air grew while I was lost in my foolish mezmorized trance. It was too intimate of an action for our special situation and we both realized the minute we locked eyes. I pulled my hand away and he just watched me. I cleared my throat before handing him the cloth to move and wash my own hair. We continued the shower like normal, trying to forget about the odd little interaction and get on with our night. While he was busy rinsing himself off I watched the movement of his arms and chest under the water. The growing heat in my core finally got to the point where I couldn't ignore it any longer, I ran a light hand down my stomach and to my clit, rubbing small circles. He finally opened his eyes and I smiled letting out a small moan for his benefit. He watched me for a moment before reaching towards me, I grew excited but instead he shut off the water and then ripped my hand from my center giving me a glare. I couldn't help but want him more, giving him a lust filled glance, I stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel.

He followed me out and did the same. I could feel the need growing in me and could see his length hardening as he looked over the curve of my behind as I dried my legs. We both poorly dried the rest of ourselves, throwing the towels on the counter and walking up to each other. I went to kiss him but he pulled back and I frowned, leaning in again but he continued teasing me. He walked around me and into the bedroom, grabbing his empty glass from the table and filling it up. While he was occupied for the moment, I brushed my hair and pulled it into a ponytail. I suddenly felt self-conscious of my openly nude form despite Negan posing the same a few feet behind me. I ignored the nagging in my head and looked into the mirror. Negan was smirking as he took a sip from his glass, his dark eyes were drawn to my body but he just looked me over before walking to the couch. My mind was racing as I pulled myself together and walked over to him, I could feel the space around us shrink as I grew closer and my heart began to speed up. I didn't know why I was getting so nervous but I also couldn't find it in me to just take a breath and relax. He was sitting in the same spot he had chosen earlier, I guess that was where he usually resided, probably beckoning his wives to do the same as me.

“Figured we would pick up where we left off.” he muttered in a syrupy-sweet voice that allowed me to feel a little more at ease. I switched the record on once again, starting it over and turning it up so a nice melody flowed through the tense air, and hopefully would block out some noises. I sat down, ignoring the strange feeling of my completely bare ass on his equally bare lap. He laughed, putting the glass to his lips to bite the rim between his teeth and quickly grab my hips, pulling my thigh over his lap, he brought me down to straddle him. I gasped at the new feeling of his hard cock between my legs and he grabbed the glass from his mouth and took a sip before setting it on the table. “You didn't pour me a drink?” I pointed out and he looked up into my eyes before scoffing, “That's because I know you have already had some little girl.” I looked away and he nodded his head and let out a small laugh. I couldn't help the small smile that grew as I just played it cool and attempted to change the subject. I had been here a week and Negan does spend a lot of time with me but it never failed to rattle me when he would just know things. Although it very well could be im just not good at hiding it, or I happened to leave something out that told him of my little cocktails.

I slightly rolled my hips, grinding my damp core against him which rewarded me with a small grunt from the man. I loosely wrapped my arms over his shoulders and smiled down at him, slowly drifting over him back and forth, taking my time to tease the man. He let out a frustrated groan and threw his head back. “Fuck princess you gotta stop being a goddamn prude.” he complained as he forcefully grabbed my hips and held me still, pulling his hips down for a moment. “Get on your knees.” he ordered, looking me in the eyes and releasing his grip on my waist. “I am anything but a prude.” I went to kneel for him and he got ready but I stopped when I rested a shaky hand on his knee. I stood up straight again and smiled. I wanted nothing more than to have Negan destroy me right now after having waited all day, no stress release, but I also realized the slight power our deal gave me that I don't think either of us had considered. “What?” he asked, annoyed and hesitant. His smile had faded and he was now just eager to get on with the act which only made me enjoy this moment more.

“Only if you beg for it baby.” I taunted and I saw his eyes shift from annoyed to slightly aggravated. “You’re fucking with me?” he laughed, trying to give me a chance to retreat but I just shook my head. He ran a hand over his face and I went to gently pull his shoulders up so he was sitting forward. He looked at me and then allowed his eyes to trail down my chest as I got closer. Soon I felt his large fingers brush up my ass and over my lower back, pulling me forward so he could kiss my chest but avoided my nipples. I lightly tugged at his hair and I could feel the sarcastic grin against my breasts, suddenly he pulled back and stood up all in one quick motion. I was slightly startled but he just stared at me with dark eyes and an evil grin. He reached up and gripped my jaw in his hand, pulling me to his face and kissing me. The faint taste of whiskey on his tongue was a favorite of mine and I moaned into the kiss as he slid his hand down to my neck and held it gently. “No more fucking games tonight.” was all he said, but he towered over me, ever so gently squeezing my neck, and staring into my eyes with a pathetic glare.

His voice was serious but soft, however a chill went up my back and I felt the slight rush of fear run through my veins like shards of glass as his thumb brushed against the soft skin of my throat. “Yes Sir.” I nodded with a small grin, rubbing my thighs together to ease the ache that took over deep in my stomach. I could feel he enjoyed the look of me under his hand, squirming, and clueless of what was to come. He pressed a more gentle kiss to my lips, allowing me to enjoy the tenderness for a moment, almost as if it was the last innocent one of the night. Once satisfied he pulled away and switched our positions, grabbing my hips and spinning me to face the couch. I made a guess as to what he was expecting and placed my knees on the cushions, leaning my elbows on the back and popping out my ass to him. “Yeah you know what to do.” he scrutinized and I looked back at him with a glare. He placed a light smack to my ass and I smiled. Rough hands ran over my legs and I felt him press the tip of his large cock against my entrance and I held my breath as I waited for him to continue. “You know something darling,” he began with a scoff and I rolled my eyes, temptation was taking over and I just needed him to stop with the games, I didn't know how Negan was able to resist and keep his lust from driving his actions, instead of just taking me as soon as I got in position like id have assumed he would. “What?” I asked with an attitude I will admit, turning to look back at him with a bored expression. He went to speak and met my inattentive gaze and I noticed his stance shift in response to my tone, letting his smile fade for a moment. Before I could even attempt to give a lighthearted grin he pushed into me completely, bottoming out, I gripped the back of the couch, “Ahhh! Negan!” I screamed, looking at him in an overwhelming state of shock at the pain and growing pleasure I felt. His thick cock stretched my walls as I tried to relax and adjust around it. His cheeks dented as a large smile appeared and he watched my face shift expressions from his work.

“I was going to say you may actually have a shot at winning our bet, but instead,” he pushed even further, if possible, “I'll say, I have been enjoying your company so much… that I may discard of our deal all together.” he let out with a heavy breath as he got used to my tight cunt around him and I also let out a grunt in response to his comment. “What do you mean?” I asked softly, still trying to get used to the tip of his cock being damn-near pressed against my cervix, it also didn't help he kept teasing with little short thrusts, barely moving and only running his thick length against the ridges of my walls in a vulgar movement that caused my jaw to drop slightly. He laughed and grabbed my waist with tight fingers, I only hoped there would be marks as usual that are always a fun reminder of our lewd interactions. “Yeah I think i'll just keep you to myself.” he said casually as he slowly began to pull in and out of me, moving his hips allowing one hand to run over my body. He grazed it over my ass and up my back, grabbing my ponytail and giving a small tug. “What do you think of that sweetheart?” he insisted, keeping my hair gripped in his fist and his hips moving in a slow comfortable pace. I didn't know how to answer because I was still in a distracted haze. I wanted to go home yes, but he didn't seem to care and I knew it wouldn't take much for him to dispose of me if needed, or even house me as a prisoner should it come to that. But if my assumptions were right, than so were his and he knew I was smart enough to find my way out of things need be.

He hummed and placed another smack to my ass, beginning to speed up his thrusts. “Yes- fuck okay fine. I'll stay.” I deplored in a more sensual tone than I intended and he grinned. I wasn't done however, pressing my hips back into him so that he was all the way inside me again, I propped myself up from leaning on the couch, “I have a few conditions.” his hands went to grip my hips again and he nodded at me, “You can be a big girl and talk through it.” he encouraged me. I didn't argue and let out a small whine as he pulled out and pushed in again at a spiteful speed. “I wanna be able to visit home.” he continued with a bit more focus, going in speed with his slow breathing, trying his best not to just speed up and destroy me, spreading his cum inside and then going to bed without another word. But it was now an unspoken agreement to make this round a well-deserved one. He stayed silent at my request before letting out a small grunt and then shaking his head. “What? Why not?” I whined, only being able to keep my head up for a few seconds, sending him a glare and then falling forward again. I could feel him deep in my core almost as if in my stomach, but he was going so soft and steady as we bargained. “Because you wont come back.” he snapped. I could almost hear a bit of resentment and fear in his voice, like he was genuinely afraid of his assumptions coming true. I was able to snap out of my erogenous daze when I caught onto the eerie and yet slightly heart-warming tone. Call it fucked up, I almost felt bad for him, but I liked seeing, or hearing, him weak. It reminded me he does indeed have the vulnerable side we all often hold back. It just takes a lot of effort to get him to release even a single remark.

It was now my turn to stay silent as he continued with strategic and angled thrusts. I let out a small moan but I was still hung up on my answer. It wasn't true, what he thinks I'm going to do. I would come back, foolish as anyone else may see it. And my next thought was only going to lead me to a train of others, but I followed it as it swarmed my head because I caught a glimpse of it upon the interruptions from the man behind me. I knew it was still early and I barely knew anything of the man, but I almost felt as if Negan was the only one who would understand my outlook on this life. Like he was the only person that would just say ‘fuck it’ with me and do something stupid or brave. I was at that point now, I had been surviving life even before the apocalypse. I had handled the already tainted world before it rotted down to what it is now, and so I wasn't still wasting time to achieve the dreams my old self had.

Not that I had many, I had really only enjoyed a few things before everything happened, those being the typical drugs, parties, the occasional hookup, and well now that I think about it, that was it. Then again I was still fresh out of high school when it all started, hadn't really formed too many dreams yet besides the standard ones, a good career and maybe even a partner and family somewhere down the line. But I had also never really planned ahead, I coasted. Figured i'd happen down the normal path of life or I’d die young, never did I imagine this current reality however. But either way Negan seemed to have a similar outlook, and although I don't know the cause of his jaded personality, I got the impression in the end he just wanted to try and have a somewhat joyful life for the rest of his days-- even if he wasn't really going about it the right way at the moment. That was the other thing, could I get him to change? Or would he be the same and i'll end up bitter for not choosing differently. He had potential I could see, but were we both just too far fucked to even make it work at this point? I let out a small sigh as I struggled to think as well as focus on the pleasure Negan was inflicting. I had almost forgotten about what we were currently doing, getting lost in my head and blanking out completely.

I shook my head, “No,” finally responding to him after however many minutes crept by while I was out of it. “-no I wouldn't do that.” I reassured him. I tried to sound as genuine as possible considering I indeed meant it. He furrowed his brows, the grip he had on my hips lightening up as he processed my soft and sweet words, a rare occasion on my end. I looked back over my shoulder and he was staring at me, he stopped slowly in me when we locked eyes. He was observing my expression and I knew he was trying to figure out if I was being honest with him. I looked down and then forward again with a sigh, “I want to go home, but I also..” I let out shaky breath before I continued, not sure how he would react, “But I also like being here with you.” After a brief silence I felt the need to justify my response some more, “I would come back-- because I would want to, and that's how it should be Negan.” We both went silent and I couldn't bring myself to look at him. I was too afraid he would be furious at my statement. And I was now on the opposite side of my plan, almost afraid he would see i'm not what he wants, and now that it's gone this far he would kill me. I felt him pull out of me and I felt my breath hitch. I still didnt turn around yet but began to lean up slowly. I was now assuming I had killed the mood completely and he was just going to kick me out or something of the sorts.

However, I let my breathing continue, shaky and hoarse, as I felt the familiar scratch of his warm and rough hands slide up my waist and pull me back off the couch. He turned me to face him and I looked into his eyes with fearful ones. My soft gaze flicked around his face and began searching for so much as a smirk or raise of his brow to allow myself to breathe. For a moment I thought I caught a glimpse of hope in his own eyes as he met mine. We stood sharing the air between us and tainting it with paranoia and remnants of lust. “Is that really how you feel?” he finally asked, his dimples threatening to appear with a smirk as he waited for my answer. “Yes.” I answered with confidence, but still as endearing as possible. He looked between my eyes that reflected the soft light of the fire and he had a small smile lift the corners of his lips. He lifted a hand and cupped my cheek, “Okay.” He agreed with little hesitation and my eyes lit up like stars at the revelation, my cheeks also flushed a light pink as well and I gave a small grin. “Really?” I clarified, just in case he tried to change his mind again. Although I think we both knew we were too smart to ever truly escape each other. He nodded and I finally felt the weight leave my chest and waves of relief ran through me. “Then what are you waiting for?” I teased and he scoffed, pulling me in for a haste kiss.

It was even more passionate and sensual now that we had the agreement settled and we could focus on pleasing one another. I wrapped my arms around his neck and he quickly took advantage and reached for my thighs to pick me up. I wrapped my legs around him out of habit and he began kissing down my neck as we walked to the bed. I let out a little laugh when the scruff of his beard tickled and scratched my neck. He continued sucking marks on my neck, taking time to leave several dark ones as he laid me down and then pulled away. He smiled at the slowly developing red bruises and he brushed back the messy hairs that escaped my pony tail, I propped myself up so I was sitting and smiled, “You want to fuck my face again, Sir?” I teased with a bit of sarcasm in the inquiry but with fluttering lashes for the flirty affect. He laughed and reached up to brush and tug my bottom lip with his thumb, “No not tonight sweetie, lay back down and open your legs.” He ordered, the laugh disappearing and his expression shifting with his patience that was draining by the second.

I obviously did as I was told, practically giving myself whiplash from the speed I draped my back on the soft mattress and looked him dead in the eyes as I slowly spread my legs apart. His eyes darkened and he kneeled on the bed, propping himself up between my legs and gently tracing along my thighs with his fingers. I felt goosebumps follow his trail and he admired the glistening of my damp cunt, all a response to his behavior of course. This was his favorite kind of power to have and he almost always stopped to admire the effect his pride-driven actions had. I sighed as he rubbed down my thighs and up my waist. “Ugh- Negan please! I've been waiting all day.” I whined looking at the clock as it approached three in the morning. He seemed to get a kick out of my misery-- the sadistic bastard, but of course deep down I trusted it would always be worth it. “Put a sock in it baby.” he mocked, smacking the side of my ass and I let out a pleased hum while he leaned down and approached my center. I tried to keep my eyes on the ceiling, too nervous to watch him as he kissed around my core. And suddenly I was being reminded of who exactly was between my legs at the moment and my heart began to thump in my ears. I finally felt him flick his tongue through my folds and brush over my clit. I held back a reaction and he continued taking his time with his craft. I had no doubt Negan was a pro at this, he had shown his level of skill in other ways as well, so I wasn't surprised.

The bold man wrapped his hands around my thighs and gripped them, his large fingers indenting the skin beneath them and surely leaving bruises overlapping the currently fading ones. I sucked in a breath as he suddenly sped up his actions and ran his tongue around my clit. I finally looked down at him as my hand traveled to his hair and he pulled back to flash a smirk before returning to my eager heat. I arched my back as he sucked on my clit and slid a hand down to tease my entrance with a finger. He took his time in warming me up with slow and thoughtful movements of his tongue, eventually easing two fingers followed by a lewd moan leaving my lips. He curled his fingers up and brushed against my walls, just barely poking at my g-spot as he teased and smirked between my legs. I moaned again, pulling his hair for encouragement and biting my tongue to keep from barrating him with pathetic pleas to finally be fucked. It was my way of learning to enjoy the little things, is what I said to convince myself to hold on a little longer.

I felt his tongue press harder onto my clit, he used the very tip to perfectly torment my nerve. I squirmed harder than I had been at the new feeling, it was more stimulating and almost felt hot. His saliva mixed with my own lubricant was shining alongside my inner thighs, and I could see the faint warm glow of the fireplace being cast across the room and highlighting the wet spot along my legs and his arms. I also looked at him, and caught the light hitting the faint glisten of sweat on his forehead as well as his almost luminescent skin from the initial wave of lust that summoned our bodies natural coolant. I jerked beneath him when he didn't take a break and instead pulled his fingers back and then pushed them farther in. I gasped and my thighs instinctively closed around him. My hand laced through his dark, faintly-graying hair and tugged harshly. He stopped his tongue and I opened my eyes that I hadn't realized squeezed shut and I quickly, but reluctantly moved my legs apart again before he could remove his fingers and do it himself. “Thank you babydoll, you’re doing so good, I can feel you wanting more.” he praised with a smile and leaned forward, using his other hand to pull me up gently by my throat, catching me halfway in a kiss. He sucked in a breath as I tried to catch mine. The praise allowed a peachy blush to grace my cheeks and I was thanking heavens he was able to read me in this moment, hoping it meant he wouldnt continue this insanely pleasurable agony.

After a few minutes of him allowing my orgasm to build up, and then denying me I let out a rather pathetic moan. “Negan please will you fuck me now?” I asked and he pulled his fingers out and leaned up. I propped myself up on my elbows and waited for his response as he just smiled and caught his breath. He gestured with his fingers to flip and I caught on before he spoke, moving to my hands and knees. “You know how I want it baby.” he quipped and I felt heat as well as some butterflies spiral in my chest at the comment and I smiled. He really was the whole package if you took away his tyrannous streak-- but like I said we will probably both be dead in five, or ten years… twenty if we’re lucky. He must have noticed my distraction cause he tugged on my hair and grabbed my hips with force, a moan escaping before I could apologize for my boring behavior. I laughed and just leaned back to kiss him before pushing his hand down between us. He gave into the kiss for a moment more and then traced his other hand gingerly up my spine and lightly pushed me away and back down on my hands. His other guided himself into me once again, and as soon as he pushed in fully he began rough thrusts, taking his time to enjoy the feeling of me around him again first before he couldn't convince himself to hold back a second longer.

I let out a moan as my back arched into him and his rough hands gripped into my hips and ran up to squeeze my breasts. He picked up the speed of his thrusts when he began to play with my nipples. I let out another more lustful moan in hopes he would continue his hard thrusts. “Fuck- Negan you feel so good.” I finally spat out, not being able to hold back the compliment that would surely stroke the man's ego or inspire more sarcastic remarks. He instead grunted, “Im gonna have a hard time lasting much longer, you feel fucking fantastic princess.” I felt my orgasm begin to approach at his comment and he quickly caught on, a hand quickly took place to rub circles around my clit and I let out a cry as I arched my back and he thrusted faster, “Go ahead and cum, it won't be the last sweetheart.” I didn't hesitate to allow the myself to collapse into an orgasm, cumming around Negan's cock and threatening to fall into the bed if not for his arm around my stomach.

I allowed myself to be lost in the haze, but Negan continued on, slowing down slightly but only pushing in deeper. “Ugh! Fuck!” I yelled as he hit deep in my gut and my eyes rolled back. I pushed my hips back onto him, bouncing myself back slightly desperate for a second releases I could feel building again. He hissed and held me still letting out a curse and mumbling to wait. I moaned impatiently and he gave a smack to my ass to tie me over while he slowly began to thrust again. I felt my orgasm approach faster and I moved my hips again, this time he didn't stop me and I threw my head back, “Im gonna cum again Negan.” He went to slow down again but I couldn't hold back and rode out the second wave, smirking as I looked back at him and he shook his head. “Give me one more.” was all he said and I felt his hand continue to rub harsher circles around my sensitive bud and I whined. “I'm gonna need a sec” I breathed out heavily and he continued with slow, soft thrusts. “I think you can do it now baby.” he grunted as he sped up again, his hand on my clit rubbing at the same pace and his other hand creeping up to wrap in my hair and tug. “I-mm Negan! I can't-” I complained more but he continued and I moaned louder. I could feel another slow orgasm approaching. It would be good but I knew I would probably be practically knocked out after due to rate it took to get here.

He went deeper again and found my weak spot, shoving into it without resistance and then allowing me to fall forward on my elbows. The new angle caused us both to moan and he sped up again. I could feel him twitch as I squeezed around him and rutted my hips back to chase the third wave. “Come on Y/n I know you can do it.” Negan encouraged with slight sarcasm. I let out a moan into the sheets and gripped them tight as I felt the intense wave rush over me but almost barely satisfy me. I moaned loud, turning away from the mattress so he could hear it more. “Fuck Im gonna cum soon.” he grunted and I took in a few breaths before offering to swallow his seed but he insisted on playing this out and finishing deep in me. I wasn't opposed of course and moaned as he continued to thrust into me with tantalizing force. I couldn't feel my legs and could see bruises forming on my hips. I smiled and he gripped my breast and fucked me harder as he came. “Mgh- Fuck!” his back leaned over me as thrusted in deep and rode out his own orgasm.

I frowned when he pulled out but could feel him drip out of me, he used two fingers to swipe up his cum and held it to my lips. I obedeiently sucked it off his fingers and he smiled. His eyes sparkled in the firelight and we both leaned in for a kiss. I layed back and he went to lay beside me, our lips meeting again as I leaned on his chest and he took over the kiss, his tongue sliding between my lips and then his teeth biting my bottom lip. It surprised me but I smiled and deepened the kiss. After a few minutes I pulled back with a red face and laid my head to his chest as I yawned. “Its fucking late.” was all I mumbled out and he nodded not even bothering to look at the clock. “Are you sure you wanna stay with me?” he asked, pulling me out of my sleepy haze and I opened my eyes to look at him, I nodded with a small smile, “Of course. I think we both know you cant get me to do anything I don't wanna.” he nodded in agreement and gripped my jaw to kiss me, “That's true. I just wanted to make sure th-” I stopped him by shoving my fingers over his lips, I shushed him and smiled. “Please, can we just go to bed?” my eyes could barely stay open and he smiled under my hand before nodding. “Fine. You really are something else y’know that doll?” I mumbled an agreement before drifting off into sleep, Negan following close behind. I didn't know if we were actually going to last as long as I hoped, but I knew it would at least be a damn good time.

#negan x reader #negan x reader smut #Negan X Female Reader #daddy negan #negan the walking dead

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carnivorous-canine98 · 6 months

Text

Of Monsteress and Women: When Curiosity Strikes

Trigger warning: Slight fearplay and rough mouth play

It had only been a few days since the "incident" that led me to gaining a "unique" girlfriend.

I was damn grateful that I had a few days off to process things. Even still… my mind tended to wonder about other things. A sigh forced itself out of my chest as I absent-mindenly went about what it was I was doing.

Dusk, the name that she currently went by, kept to herself for the most part. She would answer the few questions I gave her when curiosity did strike… as well as tease me. I gave a low hiss, my cheeks burning up slightly, remembering the crap she did. God… and that damn nickname she keeps calling me didn't help matters either.

Dusk did dip out a few times too and I quote… "Satisfy my hunger."

The thought sent shivers down my spine, I was just glad I wasn't on the receiving end of things. I shook my head quickly trying to get my mind off of things. Once again, I was so lost in my thoughts I wasn't paying attention to what I was doing.

A sharp yelp rushed past my lips as the knife I was using slipped and caught a couple of my fingers. Hissing in pain, I instinctively tossed the knife to the side, trying to nurse the cut.

My gaze was only down a second before a tall figure loomed over me. I let out a shriek, jumping back some as Dusk had suddenly appeared from literally nowhere. She didn't say anything, gently taking my injured hand into her own.

"D-Dusk? What are you doing?" I asked sheepishly.

She gave no response, eyes seemed locked on my hand for whatever reason. I soon got my answer as she slipped my bleeding fingers into her mouth. I tried to yank my hand away, but she had a firm grip on me. A shudder ran through my body as the cold mussel that was her tongue, eagerly lapped at my blood.

"D-Dusk let go!" I shouted, moving my other, now fisted, hand towards her.

"Relax, sweets," she hummed, blocking my other hand with ease. Dusk let go of my fingers, earning a grossed groan from me…. But nonetheless, I was happy. Glancing down at my saliva coated fingers, I was surprised to see the cuts were completely healed.

"What the….?" I breathed, utterly shocked.

Dusk chuckled, leaning close. I instantly squeaked as she got close, blushing intensely. "Well, sweets," she purred. "To answer your question… My saliva has some pretty potent healing enzymes in it. Hence, your fingers coming out like nothing ever happened."

The steam was blowing from my ears like loud whistles, causing me to only catch part of what she had said. "O-Okay, thanks," I yipped, scrambling to get past her. "What's wrong, sweets?" Dusk purred, licking her lips as she pinned me up against the wall.

"D-Dusk," I whimpered as I felt her nestle her face into the crook of my neck.

"You smell so good," she purred, nuzzling more. "I can't help myself…"

With no control of my actions, I pushed her off of me. Dusk stared wide eyed at me, surprised, but didn't say anything beyond that. "M-My eyes itch…" I stammered. "I need to take care of that." She stepped aside, letting me bolt past to the bathroom.

Once in there, I quickly locked the door, placing my back against it. While it was a half lie, I still needed to calm my nerves. God… this is still all so new to me. Letting out a shaky sigh, I reached for my eye drops and contact case. Washing my hands quickly, I used them to carefully take the contacts out of my eyes.

A whole different person was staring back at me as I looked in the mirror. I quickly slapped my palm on my reflection, letting out a shaky sigh. I did not want to think about that… not now. My head moved away as a soft knock came from the door.

"Hey Astra…. Everything okay?" I heard Dusk's voice from behind. There was a gentleness that I wasn't expecting coming from her.

Unlocking the door, I slowly opened it. My hair covered most of my face as I made my way out of the bathroom. "I-Im good…" I said softly. "Just a little on my mind right now is all."

"Alright… just… if you want me to tone things down, let me know okay?" I felt her hand gently stroke my cheek. My cheeks flushed slightly and I found myself hugging the tall woman tightly. She gave a surprised grunt, but returned the gesture.

Blushing, I let go, shifting on my feet a bit. I kept my gaze down as I spoke. "S-Sorry… It's a lot to process right now. And my feelings are over the place right now. But, please…" My voice lowered to a whisper. "Please don't stop… I kinda like it in a weird way."

"Alright then, sweets," Dusk chuckled, ruffling my hair some.

I huffed a little at what she did, giving a low sigh. I closed my eyes, once again having no control over my words. "Dusk… what do I taste like to you?"

The black haired woman looked at me with wide eyes once again, giving a few snickers. "Would you let me get a better taste if I were to tell you, sweets?" She purred playfully. I felt my cheeks burning up at her statement. "H-How would that even b-be possible? You can't exactly shift in my apartment," I squeaked.

"I have my ways, sweets. Now… yes or no?" Dusk cooed, licking her lips.

I looked up through the hair that was covering most of my face. God damn, my heart rate started to race. A weak flustered whine came from my throat as Dusk leaned in closer to me. "Well?" She purred, giving me a wide toothy grin.

"O-Okay… fine," I squeaked out.

"Perfect," I heard her deep voice rumble happily.

A small huff escaped my lips as I crossed my arms. Once again my long reddish-brown hair obscured most of my face… but I could still see that damned grin of hers. Wait? Was it getting bigger?

A wave of sudden dizziness crept up onto me, resulting in me stumbling back. "W-What's going on?" I forced out. Dysphoria started to set in as I found myself struggling against nothing in particular.

"Easy there," Dusk's voice rumbled around me. "It's normal for this to happen for someone's first time. Just take it slow and breathe…"

My breath started to slow as the vertigo subsided, yet… it's always something, isn't it.

The once normally tall Dusk once again towered over me, not as a beast like before, but still in her humanoid form. Panic started to set back in as I now started to gaze at my surroundings. Everything was massive… or rather it was I who was small.

"D-Dusk what the absolute fuck did you do to me?" I squeaked, head whipping around like a sheet in the wind.

The woman's deep chuckle resonated above me as she slowly inched closer. "I told you sweets," she purred, massive hands cupping around me. "I have my ways of doing things."

"Y-Yeah… b-but… HOW IN THE HELL AM I TINY AND WHY!?".

Dusk purred, scooping me into her hands as she inched closer to her lips. Her grin widened some as she delicately moved the hair from my face. She looked about to say something, but her eyes widened. A yelp escaped my lips as my face was lifted by her thumb.

Dusk's face softened quite a bit, moving more hair from my face. She brought me a bit closer, her voice barely a whisper. "Are these your natural eyes?"

I froze at her question. My body stiffened at the realization of what's going on… I didn't put my contact lenses back on."

I gulped hard, nodding slowly as I looked away.

"Astra…" Dusk paused for a sec. A soft smile came across her lips. She lifted my gaze to meet hers. "Your eyes are beautiful…" The woman murmured, nuzzling me gently.

I couldn't find the words to reply back with. Biting my lip some, I found myself leaning into the nuzzling more. My body seemed to have a mind of its own as I felt myself go limp. A smile wormed its way onto my lips as Dusk's purrs vibrated through my entire body.

The bliss was short lived as something cold and slimy ran along the side of my body. An audible groan weaseled its way out as I was greeted with another lick. "Of course you ruined the moment," I huffed, rolling my eyes.

"Hey…. You're the one who agreed to this sweets," my handlers swooned. "Either way… I'm going to savor every, last, part-of-you."

The fire once again returned to my face, a flustered mewl rushing past my lips. I didn't even get time to react as Dusk proceeded to run her tongue along my body again. She shuddered, mumbling something that I couldn't even comprehend.

I was about to ask what she said… only to have the ground literally swept from my feet.

"D-Dusk, put me down?" I cried, failing about some.

"Mmm, I will," she purred, slowly lifting me higher.

I continued to flail about, scared about being dropped from this height. Fuck, it was like she was enjoying torturing me. Seems I'd been too lost in thoughts to notice the cool breeze from below… if you could even call it that.

My eyes flew wide open at the open cavern below me. Body moving on its own as I thrashed about. "W-Why are you d-doing this? Couldn't you just slip me into your mouth?!" I shouted.

"Much more fun this way," she hummed.

I let out a scream as I felt her grip loosen slowly. It was all too fast to even process as Dusk let go. She didn't give me time to recover as I fell into her open maw. The sudden loud click of her fangs sent me into overdrive, kicking and thrashing around. Her loud purring was rigorously rattling the whole fleshy cavern.

God, I was going to have a massive headache later.

I kept up my thrashing for a bit, grunting as I gave the roof a good kick. She responded by pushing me against the pallet, purring depending. Dusk moved her tongue underneath me, swishing it around. She let up, giving me time to breathe, only to repeat the process over again. “F-For fucks sake, make up your mind already?!” I shouted, pushing against the roof.

Her snicker rang around me, earning another kick. Dusk seemed to finally stop, only to maneuver her tongue and me along with it. A cry of surprise rushed out as I found myself being squished somewhere. My back was against something hard, leading me to guess she stuffed me into her cheek.

Dusk let out a low hum, that playful edge never leaving her voice.

“Why the complaints, sweets? You asked how you tasted, did you not?” My captor spoke, low and slow.

I shuddered as she spoke, feeling the massive boulders that were Dusk's teeth move against my back. “Y-Yeah… but not to be treated like a Goddamn piece of hard candy,” I spat between breaths.

“How can I not have someone as delicious as you… You're a delectable, sweet star.”

My cheeks burned with the comment, making my body squirm all on its own. I whined loudly, Dusk giving a purred filled laugh in reply. “Either way… I want you all to myself again,” she hissed. “Mine and mine alone.”

Her tongue came alive once more, scooping me back into the main chamber. I could feel my heart thumping rapidly in my chest. I don't know if it was from the situation at hand… or what was said. A squeak forced its way out as everything suddenly shifted down. The slick surface pulled myself close and closer to my awaited fate.

For some strange reason, I didn't fight it. Like I wanted it to happen. This made my face burn even more and my heart to pound faster. I clenched my eyes closed, a weak whine eminenting from me as I prepared.

A thunderous gulk resonated all around as tension built from my legs, gradually worming it way up. I wheezed as I was pulled further into the darkness. My body tried to move, but couldn't because of the pressure all over. Yet… this oddly felt nice for some weird reason.

It was like an all over massage, slowly helping me relax. I would've almost fallen asleep had it not been for the unforeseen drop into a bigger chamber. Strangely a soft crimson glow started to illuminate the cavern around me, allowing my eyes to adjust some.

Once again, this was short-lived as everything started to violently shift around. “D-Dusk, take it easy or I'm going to be sick,” I shouted, trying not to bounce around like a fucking ping pong ball. “Oops… sorry,” Dusk laughed meekly. “I was just moving to the bed.”

With another loud huff, I gave the stomach wall a kick before setting down. I crossed my arms against my chest, a yawn escaping past my lips. All the action I'd been put through left me exhausted. “Gotta admit… oddly comfortable in here,” I murmured, nestling down some more.

I soon found myself casting off into a deep slumber, the gentle movements and soft, slow heartbeat helping.

Dusk purred, a soft smirk on her face as she laid a clawed hand over her midriff. “Get some sleep, my sweet little star,” she hummed. “As I'm definitely doing this again down the road…”

#safe vore #g/t vore #soft vore

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