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loveindefinitely · 4 months

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༊*·˚ FOREVER WINTER (IF YOU GO) — task force 141 x reader

01 — TOO YOUNG TO KNOW IT GETS BETTER

featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + johnny 'soap' mactavish + kyle 'gaz' garrick + john 'bravo six' price + (non-endgame phillip graves)

warnings. nsfw, fem!reader, fmmmm, enemies to lovers, slow burn, polyamory, ghostsoap, pricegaz, alerudy, heavy angst, requited unrequited love, graphic violence

series masterlist. read on ao3. fanfic playlist.

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You almost worshipped him.

It wasn’t because of his status – although, that certainly played a role in it all – and it wasn’t because of his bank statements.

No. Phillip Graves was one of the best men you’d ever known.

Or so you had thought.

Turns out, no matter how well he looked after his men – his ‘girl’ – and no matter how charismatic he was, that wouldn’t, couldn't change his roots. And, at those very roots, was decay. Evil in its most purest of forms; a tantalisingly devastating mix of every sin.

The most prevalent one?

Greed.

He was a greedy, greedy man, and he would stop at nothing to have it all. Even if he knew the fall out; even if he knew that he could never go back to the man he once was.

Phillip Graves didn’t care. Not in the slightest.

And it was you that would pay the ultimate price.

Rain beats down your back in heavy sheets as you stand, the harsh night littered with flashlights and car sirens.

It’s cool, just this side of too cold, and it has the hairs on the back of your neck rising with the temperature.

The temperature, and…

“Yup-yup,” the two men to your right call into their comms. You remain silent, but it goes unnoticed. Your eyes are trained to the paved street, rippling with the rainwater, littered with streaks of red.

Blood stains this town, and you haven't done anything to stop it.

“Let’s go.”

Raising your head, you meet the eyes of the operative who, ranks-wise, is below you. Really, you should be reprimanding him for his quip, but you understand the annoyance. You’re being quiet – something quite unusual for your normally direct and authoritative nature.

Tightening your grip around the shiny, water-slicked gun in your hand, you give him a sharp nod in response.

Seemingly satisfied, he turns, and you follow him along the sidewalk of the narrow, stone streets. Shops line either side of the area, their front-windows smashed and the products inside thrown about.

It’s like your heart has launched itself into your throat, the constant thrum of it setting your nerves alight.

“Three-zero, I want you and your two to find those Brits. We’ve got the cops. Copy?”

That once reassuring, adoring voice is now cold, void of any emotion he used to have. It makes tears burn at the back of your vision – if you were a weaker woman, they’d have fallen. Instead, you press down the button for your comms.

“Copy, Sir. Three-zero out.”

The fact that you manage to get those words out is a feat in and of its own.

It feels as though you’re lost at sea, with nothing to hold onto. Buoyant, but barely – every wave threatening to pull you under for good. To smother your silent cries for help, for guidance, for something to keep you grounded.

But there is no sea, and there is no support.

“You two go up ahead, I’ll search the house here,” you say, voice thick with demand. You didn’t have to decide anything right now. You just had to be the leader you were, and do what you’ve always done.

“Copy,” your two subordinates say, moving up further.

With their absence, you find that you can breathe – as if a weight has been lifted off of your chest, and you can finally fill your lungs.

You’re alive. You’re alive. You’re alive.

The mantra helps, surprisingly, and you hold onto those two words like they’re your only lifeline.

Through the thick of night and rain, you can see the door to the house on your left. It’s been left open, which means that either it’s already been searched – which you doubt – or… Someone else has been in there.

Gun secured in your grip, you move to the door with soft footing, quiet enough to not be heard over the shouts of other shadows just a few ways away. The constant pattering of the overhead storm clouds slow, just the slightest, allowing for a bit more sight.

Using your shoulder to further open the door with a creak, you take note of your surroundings immediately.

There’s a flickering light to the room on your far right, a living area, most likely. To your left is a short hallway, but none of the doors alert you of any occupancy. The place has been torn apart, pictures scattered along the wooden floor, shards of glass decorating the space along with it.

It sends a pang of guilt through your chest.

These were families being torn apart by your commander, your company. And for what? What was Graves’ angle here?

You’d been left on base to keep things running smoothly while Graves and unit one worked with the 141 and Las Vaqueros. You knew very little about any of this, and when you’d been called out to Las Almas, to aid with this?

This wasn’t what you fought for. This wasn’t what you would ever support, not in a million years.

But going against direct orders was going against your commander, and your livelihood. Shadow Company was all you’d known since your childhood. Having been hired when Graves was merely a young-upstart with big dreams, you were quickly swept up in the community of it all. They were your family, and Graves was the only semblance of a ‘loved one’ you had.

And now?

Now, he was sending you on a bounty hunt, for two men who, from your limited knowledge, didn’t deserve death. They were the good guys, and although most of your existing bias towards the two was due to rumours back on base, your intuition said that they were good men. And your intuition had never steered you wrong, not once.

Your mind feels like a never ending turbine as you move through the house, eyeing the barren walls and smashed vases.

Exhaling a low, deep breath, you tighten your hold on your weapon. It’s more of a comfort, at this point. Which is odd, considering that its sole purpose is to kill and destroy.

Through the dim light, you manage to find a set of stairs. They’re dingy, and the patterned carpet is mildew-riddled as you make your way to the next floor with slow, careful steps.

You’ve decided to keep your flashlight off, just in case it brings any extra attention to you.

As soon as you make it to the last step, a sense of… wrongness settles in your system. Something’s off, and it’s almost as if there’s an alarm ringing in your ears at the realisation.

Someone’s here.

Grounding yourself, both mentally and physically, you prepare to push through the hallway.

Setting aside your mental dilemma, you remind yourself that the physical battle is far more vital to your life right now. If you lose that, you lose your life.

If you lose your morals?

You just suppose you lose yourself.

The sound of a radio switching on has your senses alerted like a switchboard completely alight.

Stepping into the hallway, your chest constricting, you snap your gaze to both of your sides. With the little-to-no light, you can barely make out your limbs, let alone your surroundings. Your spatial awareness was solid, but with conditions like this? Near impossible.

The entire corridor is shrouded in shadow, the incessant rain outside and the screams of the cartel’s policemen ringing in your ears.

It reeks of death and despair, and your skin is coated in a thin sheen of chilled sweat.

The third door to your left is creaked open, just the slightest sliver, but it catches your attention like a moth to a flame. Keeping your frame encased in the darkest of the shadows, you move with patient, skillful steps towards the door.

A moment passes, tense and nerve-wracking in a way no other mission has ever been.

A breath in.

A breath out.

You push open the door, gun raised, ready for anything –

Nothing.

Quickly checking over the room to your right, you see nothing but bashed up mattresses and blood-stained carpet.

Just as you’re about to turn to check behind the door, two things happen at once.

One, you get slammed to the ground, your head knocking against the hard flooring and sending a burst of pain through your temple, your gun skidding across the floor to your left.

Two –

“Fuckin’ Christ!”

A man – scottish, that much is prevalent – whisper-shouts. You squint, the pain of the sudden fall throwing you off.

Not a second later, however, you manage to roll, shoving him off of you with a grunt. Your eyes struggle to adjust to the darkness, but you manage to make out the impossibly muscled frame of the man who’d just fallen on top of you.

He’s tall, not as giant as some of the men you served alongside with, but tall nonetheless. That’s all of the visual information you manage to gain before he sends an elbow to your gut, evoking a hiss through your gritted teeth.

You wriggle away, kicking out with your right foot and hitting what you think is his chin, considering his pained grunt.

“You bloody bastard,” he snaps, hand wrapping around your ankle and pulling you.

Your responding squeak is likely the most undignified sound you have ever made in your life, but it gives the man pause. Enough of one so as to allow you to wrench your leg back and careen it back into his face.

“Shut the fuck up!” You hiss back, all too aware of the likelihood that your men will show up and shoot first, ask later.

“Are you feckin’ stupid, lass?” He retorts, although his tone is dutifully lower as he scrambles to grab your legs once more, his fist finding your belt and pulling you towards him.

Your attempts to dig your heels into the ground to prevent yourself from being pinned by him are fruitless, his strength undoubtedly superior to yours. That was a fact all too common when it came to your hand-to-hand fights, but luckily, it was just one factor of many.

“Are you?” Your shock is palpable as he gets his other hand around the other side of your belt, using the grip to pull himself over you.

His torso is pressed against your own as he goes to pin your hands, but with one quick manoeuvre, you wrap your legs around his waist and turn.

Utilising your lower body strength, you’re able to reverse the position, your hips pinning his to the ground. In one sweep of your hands, you collect both of his wrists and force them into the carpet. The room fills with your harsh, panted breaths, the outside commotion only a distant soundtrack.

“Yer supposed to kill me now, Shadow,” he says, a torment, a threat.

You swallow, once, an unsure thing.

He’s right, of course. He should be dead by now, bleeding out onto the floor. You should be comming to your fucking Commander, and telling him that one of the men he’s after has just been reported KIA. That’s what should be happening.

So how come it’s not?

“I know,” you say, the words falling through your lips despite the internal conflict in your head. “You should be dead.”

He mirrors your confusion with raised brows, and it’s then that you can feel the blood trickling onto your hand. He’s bleeding down his arm, you realise with a start. He’s wounded.

Flitting your gaze to the floor up ahead, you catch sight of your gun, only a few steps away. One shot is all you’d need. One second, and that mouth of his would never open again.

The sole window in the room flashes with a burst of lightning, and that short second of light lets you catch sight of his features. Blood coats his jaw – from your kicks, maybe – and he’s got dirt caked onto his cheek. His stubble has clearly missed a few shaves, and his mohawk isn’t gelled.

“Still waiting, Shadow,” he says. And although he’s quiet, the words feel like a yell in the tense room. Like a shout directly into your soul, screaming for you to sort your shit out.

You go to respond – with what, you’re not sure – when the man underneath you manages to rip his hands from your grip and swing them around the back of your neck. He pulls you forward, your neck fitting into the crook of his elbow as he squeezes.

When you try to inhale, you end up choking on a cough. He’s strangling you, you realise, with his fucking biceps.

There’s mere moments for you to make a decision before you pass out, or he breaks your neck. Moments for you to decide what the fuck you can do.

Balling your right hand into a tight fist, you punch into his nose, a sickening crack making your teeth slide together. He swears, rapid-fire, a few Gaelic-sounding words slipping out along with them. It’s enough of a distraction to let you wrench out of his hold with a cough, wincing when you claw at his arm and draw blood. Thank fuck for fingerless gloves.

Crawling forward as he brings a hand up to his now-bleeding nose, you’re just a breath away from reaching your gun when his hand grabs into your hair and pulls, eliciting a cry from you.

It’s a dirty move, but this is a dirty fight.

“Fucking – let go!” You grit out, the pain of the tightening on your scalp unique and not at all tolerable.

He just pulls tighter in response, and as you try and reach the gun, your fingers fall just millimetres short. It’s maddening, your emotions out of whack and your mental compass skewed beyond belief.

He should be fucking dead. He should be fucking dead.

So why wasn’t he?

You realise that he’s using his grip on you for leverage, to move himself closer to the weapon. Reaching towards his bare arm, you manage to catch your hand around it, nails digging into his wet skin.

He lets out a pained groan, and it becomes quickly apparent to you that he’s been shot in that arm. Moving your fingers, your index finger pushes into the open wound.

His grip on your hair goes lax, and he stops moving towards the gun long enough to allow you to move on top of him once more, pinning him underneath your weight. You’re both evidently weaker than the last time you were in this position, and you’re about to do something, something, something –

“Johnny? How copy?” An urgent, oddly panicked voice echoes around the room. It’s crackled, in only the way a radio’s can, and the two of you stun yourselves into freezing. His communications have been dislocated, and now they’re loud and clear for both of you to hear. “Johnny, what the fuck is happening?”

“Shit,” Johnny curses, head falling back against the ground in exasperation.

You’re not sure when you’d laxed your grip from his wound, your hand loose around his arm. You’re not sure when you’d subconsciously started avoiding fatal moves.

At this point, you’re not sure about anything at all.

Although it’s hard to see, you’re sure that the two of you make eye contact.

Neither of you make a move.

“Soap!”

Slowly, Johnny moves his hand to the communicator in his vest, pressing the button to allow for his voice to carry over to the man on the other end.

“A little occupied, Sir,” he murmurs, tightly.

If you move your hand to his throat, or use this as a distraction, you could have him dead before the other man could even register his words.

“I can’t get a visual on you,” the other man quips back, voice laced with thinly-veiled worry. “Johnny, if you die, I’m fuckin’ killing your ass.”

You bite back a slightly crazed chuckle at that statement, and by the shift in Johnny’s chest, he does too.

Johnny doesn’t turn off his communicator. The other man – Ghost, if you’re correct – will be able to hear everything you say.

Ghost and Soap.

Jesus H. Christ. Soap – Johnny MacTavish – the 141 operator you heard whispers about throughout your unit – he was underneath you. He was on the run from your commander. He was the man you were assigned to fucking kill.

He’s alive.

You’re alive.

“Shadow Three-Zero, what’s your status?”

Oh, fuck. Fucking hell.

Both you and Johnny’s eyes dart to your own communicator – the earpiece scattered along the floor just as his had been.

Graves’ voice. It sends a shiver down your spine for all the wrong reasons, and the lump in your throat doubles in size. If it’s at all possible, the rain outside grows louder, and more gunshots echo in your ears.

“Shadow Three-Zero. Have you got ‘em? Don’t go two-timing me now, babe.”

How he’s – how he’s being so light, so carefree while storming these streets and murdering fathers, brothers, sons in cold blood – it cements a thought in your head. Out of the storm of them, the endless noise of them all, one becomes concrete. Factual. A single truth in your world of lies.

You press down your communicator button.

“Haven’t found them yet, sir. Wouldn’t dream of going against you.”

“Atta girl,” he responds, a light chuckle carrying over the radio. “After this is all done, we can have a celebration of our own, hey?”

Your mouth is barren of moisture, your tongue a heavy weight that feels all too useless as you reply once more. It doesn’t go unnoticed how neither Soap, or Ghost over the comms, say a word.

“It’ll be my pleasure, sir.”

You rip off your communicator, throwing it across the room. It sets the course of the rest of your life, you’re sure. You still do it.

All the while, you hold Soap’s gaze.

He hasn’t killed you. He could’ve, you realise, he really could’ve. He had the opportunity. Still does.

But.

You’re alive.

And so is he.

“What’re you doin’, Shadow?” Johnny finally asks, equally suspicious and curious. His tone is tight, almost as much as his body is against your own.

You’d almost forgotten that he’s underneath you. Weaponless, and bleeding out. Wounded.

On the run.

Your eyes are wide, manic, maybe, as you say with shaky breaths;

“This isn’t right. I – I don’t fight for this. You guys, you,” squeezing your eyes shut, if only for a brief moment, you continue, slower, “This isn’t the Graves I know. I’m not going to be on the wrong side of history. I’d rather betray him than stand by his side with blood on my hands.”

Soap must sense your conviction, your wobbly words holding such truth and capability in them, because he nods, sharply.

“Johnny,” the radio chimes in again, the man’s tone a warning. “Don’t.”

Soap works his mouth, a crease forming between his blood-stained brows. If you were at all a poet, you’d akin his blue eyes to a storm-brewed sea. But you’re a soldier, so they’re merely obvious in the window’s scarce light, a stark contrast to the reds and darkness all around you both.

You’re not sure what’s wrong with you. You’d clearly hit your head too hard when Soap had crashed into you, or you’d been drugged earlier.

“I have intel,” you blurt out, like a crazed lunatic. That description is, unfortunately, a little too fitting to your current state. “I’m – I’m a fucking good fighter. You help me, I help you.”

“We don’t need your help,” Soap quickly, almost automatically, retorts. But his words seem weak, his certainty nowhere on your own.

“You’re shot and on the run with no weapons,” you reply, slowly. Words. You were good at words, at debates. You could survive this. Maybe. “I know Graves. I know my men. And I know that I’d rather be a traitor than a war criminal.”

That’s maybe the most true thing you’d thought, or said, since you’d first been asked to head to Las Almas with an order to kill.

There’s silence.

A few beats pass before you open your mouth once more, tone just this side of pleading, “I’ll help you guys survive this. If you help me take down Graves, and support me – if you give me the assets I need. That’s all I’m asking.”

“We don’t trust you,” Soap says, and you nod.

“I don’t exactly have faith in you either. But it’s this or we all end up dead.”

Ghost inputs something, this time. “If you two make it to the church, we’ll consider it.”

That’s the most you can ask for. The best possible outcome from you being the biggest fucking idiot to walk this earth. You were lucky that Soap was… merciful. Which was, all things considered, the weirdest component of this entire, messed up equation.

It seems like agreement passes through you all, like a sort of handshake. An invisible one, but a symbol of truce nonetheless.

“Get yer ass offa me,” Soap groans, breaking the tension of the room.

Scrambling off of him, but keeping your wits about you, you realise that you’d virtually been laying on the man your entire conversation. Your ears burn in embarrassment.

“...Right. I’m taking my gun,” you murmur.

Which is, obviously, the worst thing to say.

“Are you feckin’ serious? Dinnae wanna work with an idiot, Jesus,” Soap immediately hisses out, getting up with a hand on his knee, bringing his other to press against his bullet wound with a wince. You think that Ghost says something similar, but it’s drowned out by Soap.

“I’m best with close-range, and I’m not the one wounded,” you immediately bite back, hand wrapping around said weapon and holding it to your chest, checking over the room for any more supplies. Luckily, unlike the man in front of you, you still have all of your supplies and gear. His top is thin, you think, and soaked through with both rain and blood. Your standard Shadow Company uniform still fits you like a second skin, and although wet, doesn’t soak into your bottom layers. Your tactical knife, still strapped to your thigh, is secure and perfectly in place.

How you’d not used it in that fight was a testament to your mindscape more than anything.

“How do I know ye won’t just shoot me when my back’s turned?” Soap shoots back, his tone a weapon in its own right.

You raise a brow, and you hope that he can see it. “I would’ve done that already if that was my plan. And you’re calling me an idiot.”

“You’re a right ass,” he retorts, not unlike a petulant child.

“And you’re a right dickhead.” And, alright, you realise that you’re not much better, but it’s deserved.

“And you both need to hurry the fuck up.”

You and Soap both have the decency to wince at the man’s words, and you both shut up as you finish checking over yourselves. You, focusing on checking your straps and belt, and Soap, hissing about his wound.

…If this camaraderie lasted the night, you’d think about apologising for that move.

Checking over your gun, you move to slowly open the door as Soap fixes up his radio, putting his earpiece back in its place. You are, admittedly, a bit annoyed that you won’t be able to hear Ghost’s callouts, but again, you had a gun.

“Let’s go,” you softly say, tilting your head towards the door. Soap nods, clearly ready to meet back up with his Lieutenant and get out of here.

As you slowly open the door, guns raised and eyes alert, you let the reality of your situation settle over you like the world’s coldest blanket. You’re going against everything you’ve ever known, all because of your morals that had always been slightly off-centre. Came with the job, you supposed.

But this was uncharted territory. Directly betraying your unit, your men, your Commander, and helping the men you’re assigned to kill? Asking them for their help in return?

“Clear,” you softly report to Soap, who acknowledges your order with a low noise. Following you with silent steps down the stairs, you keep your gun raised as you check over the bottom floor, before signalling for him to exit through the front door with you.

As the two of you enter the laneway once more, your breath catches in your throat as you assess the damage.

You spot several bodies littering the streets as rain hits you once more, the presence of it oddly comforting throughout it all. A truck up ahead has its lights on, the red of the brakes shining against the wet pavement like the pools of blood not three metres away from it.

“Steamin’ Jesus,” Soap murmurs from behind you, and you can’t help but agree with his sentiment.

This was pure bloodshed, at the hands of the one man you thought you could trust.

Betrayal tastes oddly sour in your mouth. Betrayal like this, on all sides, it’s like being suffocated by two cloths at once. Two very bloody, very assaulting cloths, at that.

Soap seems to be communicating with Ghost as the two of you make your way down the street, considering the back-and-forth whispers from Soap. He seems almost. Flirty. Which is a stark realisation, and truly, the least of your worries right now.

“If you can find bandages, or something close to it, I’ll get that arm of yours fixed up.”

You keep your tone low, careful of your surroundings as you see Soap nod, albeit almost in shock, in your periphery. Keeping your gaze forward, you move along the sidewalk.

The beauty of these shops, and this community, has been tarnished by the massacre of your Shadows. Your heart aches, seeing it all – the smashed windows, the blood, the distant sound of screaming and crying.

You and Soap make it about a block in silence, before flashlights ahead have you grabbing onto Soap’s shirt and pulling him into the open door of the shop to your left, heart beating rapidly in your chest.

“Shadow Three-Zero’s gone silent,” you hear a familiar voice say. Your subordinate – one of the two you’d sent to check the houses up ahead. “Reckon she’s dead?”

Soap, for his part, is silent where he’s been pushed up against the wall, your head meeting his collarbone.

“Nah. She mighta slept her way to the top, but she’s good. Probably gone dark so she can suck Graves off on the side or something.”

Your breath comes out in a sharp exhale, your fists tightening unknowingly onto the fabric of Soap’s shirt. He doesn’t even breathe in response.

The other chuckles. “Fuckin’ slut. Can’t believe she gets to order us around when we all know why she’s here.”

And, oh, does that make your stomach turn. You were many things, but you were not one to abuse a position like that. They knew nothing of your struggles, or your relationships, or –

“Fuckin’ cocksuckers,” Soap grumbles, and that shocks you. For a man in the military to recognise misogyny like that was, really, unheard of.

You ignore that thought.

“Shut up.”

He does.

The two Shadows continue walking down the street, and you quickly peer out of the front window to watch them head down another sidealley, taking their thoughts with them.

“Come on,” is all you say, and Johnny follows tightly behind you as you continue down the way you were heading.

You find an alleyway to your left, and you decide to follow it. You can see a flashlight scanning over the street further down. Shadows were everywhere, but they were pushing forward like a tsunami over a coastal town, leaving nothing but destruction in their wake.

Soap follows you without question, which is odd, but you’re not about to complain.

“Ghost says that there’s underground tunnels – we can get to the church through ‘em,” Soap murmurs as he taps your shoulder. You nod, not looking back as you search for any telling of where the best route would be.

After a few minutes, the two of you find yourselves nearing the tunnels Ghost had spoken about.

It’s when you’re about to head into the deep end – quite literally, considering the flooding – that an all too familiar and bone-chilling voice yells out from the right of you both, down another street.

“She’s gone dark – you will find her alive, and if she’s dead, you will be too!” Graves roars, and your heart skips a beat. “She could be hurt, or captured – she is your top priority now, Shadows!”

There’s a chorus of agreement, and if you look down, you’re almost certain that you’ll find your stomach laying at your feet.

A greedy, greedy man. That was what Phillip Graves was – now, more than ever.

If you were a weaker woman, a civilian, maybe, instead of a seasoned soldier, you’d have vomited by now.

Instead, you shoot Soap a look.

“Ghost still at the church?” Is all you ask.

Soap nods. “Yeah. Lt’s talkin’ my ear off,” he says with an eye roll, but his lips quirk into a half-tilted grin more resemblant of a satisfied pup.

“Didn’t think the 141 was so close,” you reply, and you could slap yourself for how nosy you sound. You’re not, not in the slightest – all you cared about was surviving both Graves and them.

Soap’s eyes hold an indecipherable gleam to them when he responds, a touch domestically, “You have no idea.”

You itch to delve deeper, to unpack that statement that seems to hold so many layers, but you keep your mouth respectfully shut.

And you prepare to meet Ghost at the end of the tunnel.

a/n. cutely drops this and hides!! jk but umm idk man this fic idea has been nibbling at my brain and GAWDDD smth about it just. got the juices flowing. this is my personality now thanks gn. if you guys enjoyed please comment or reblog or follow!! ty so very muchly ily all <3

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fandom · 1 year

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Deltarune

This is Toby Fox’s website and we’re just living on it. For more than seven years, his games have cast a spell on Tumblr, stealing the hearts of fans with their winning combination of storytelling, innovative gameplay, and characters filled with heart and determination. Our first look at Toby’s world of monsters and humans came in 2015 when Undertale was released. We learned the meaning of mercy and that while talking through conflict might not be the easiest path, it’s always the right one. When the first chapter of Deltarune came out in 2018, absolute chaos ensued. We met Kris, Susie, and Ralsei and set off on a brand new adventure where you fell in love with the Undertale universe all over again.

The second chapter came as a complete surprise and was one of the best gifts Tumblr received in the past year. You immediately latched onto the continuation of some of the best lore in gaming and memed the living heck out of it. You also spammed our dashes with a tiny little man in pink and yellow sunglasses—so much so that he ended up becoming the #1 video game character on all of Tumblr this year. Spamton had a chance to become a [[big shot!]] and, boy, did he take it.

And he wasn’t the only new character Deltarune threw into the mix. As a game with a combat system based almost entirely (if you’re playing correctly) on social interactions, its characters are key. They're relatable and make you want to root for them. Even, and often especially, for the bad guys. We can almost hear you yelling, “I can fix him!” into the void, and we believe you! Remember that one time you talked about the Deltarune villain, Queen, so much you skewed the tag data for one of the biggest bands of all time and the actual Queen of England? We sure do. And when Noelle Holiday joined the party, your team was finally complete.

This year marked the first anniversary of Deltarune’s second chapter, and you celebrated with every post type Tumblr has to offer. You survived the Tumblr Sexyman poll and the Spamton Sweepstakes, and for that, you all deserve the shiniest gold ribbon.

All of this to say that Toby Fox wins Tumblr. Undertale, for Tumblr, was a total cultural reset, and its impact is still felt even seven years later. It first appeared on our weekly video games list way back on September 21, 2015, just days after the game’s release—and it has been on every single list but one since then. So we’ve always known that Deltarune would find a loving home on Tumblr, and it truly has been so loved.

#year in review #deltarune #tumblr2022

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thecapricunt1616 · 27 days

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Lily of the Valley - (c.b. oneshot)

O/S INSPO: Lily of the Valley Soothing, calming, draws peace and tranquility, and repels negativity. Assists in empowering happiness and mental powers. Married couples should plant Lily of the Valley in their first garden to promote longevity of the marriage. POSTED DATE:03/30/2024 W/C: 4,114

A/N: FINALLY!!!! I am so sorry this took forever! This O/S is based on this adorable request from the LOML @daysofyellowroses - please check out her blog! I hope this satisfies your Carmy Proposing idea! I'm sorry it took so long i've been sick, but were back baby!!! Requests are opennnn y'all! This is also heavily inspired by my amazing OOMF @gingergofastboatsmojito - In another timeline Carmy still somehow came across Madame Stardusts jewelry (she transcends time and space that woman!) , & Stella exists too! If you want to meet more of that character in the universe Ginger created (I highly recommend you do)you can read that AMAZING FIC HERE ! Please be sure to leave kudos & comments & give Ginger all the flowers she deserves!!!

WARNINGS FOR BTC: Smut, Swearing, NO USE OF Y/N - As little physical description as possible, fluffy Carmen, OC Carmy - (He's more emotionally grown obvi hahah)

➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭

You pushed the heavy, bulging tote bags full of groceries up your arm as you walked back to Your&Carmy’s shared Condo Building. The wildflower seeds you’d thrown on the little patches of grass on your walks to the train, along the sidewalk on your block had finally started to bloom. Adorable tiny little flowers in vibrant shades of blue, pink, purple, yellow, and white peeking out over the sidewalk's edge.

Spring had most definitely sprung in Chicago by this point. Your commute whilst walking to work down Michigan Ave, passing the stunning array of tulips, had told you that fiercely every time you walked to and from the train this week on the way to work. It was finally Friday, and you couldn’t be happier.

Carmen had been so busy this week- busier than normal. You’d usually just hang out with your best friends to fill that pathetic, lonely void while grading papers and doing your own assignments- but they were busy this week too! You were convinced the universe had bound you to loneliness this week, so naturally, all you wanted to do was get home, crawl into bed, and sleep- until Carmy came in around 2 to 3 am, and get that savored 15 minutes of cuddles after his shower, before exhaustion came over you again and you fell back asleep.

You used your special key fob to get in the door of your condo’s shared building, which to your standards was very luxurious- it included amenities you’d never even thought of. You and Carmy had moved in together 3 months ago, it took a lot of convincing on your end. You and Carmy had lived on opposite ends of town, so every time you’d see eachother, (which was very often) - it would be an hour's drive that he insisted- or, him losing the battle- and allowing you to take the train back all those stops.

You weren’t particularly religious, it was more just a personal preference - that you would be at least engaged before you were to move in together. Especially before having a mortgage together. You’d told Carmy this, and he’d given you the same answer each time over the last two years he’d been begging - “Baby we know we’re in love, you know we’re eachothers forever person - we tell eachother every day! We’ve been together 3 years, Let me take care of you”

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to be taken care of- it’s just…you liked working. You loved your job, you’d went to school and earned a masters degree for Christ sake, and were currently working on your PHD. You couldn’t ever see yourself giving that up, and moving in with a boyfriend and him insisting on paying all the bills made you fear you’d fall pregnant, and then your professional life would be over.

But, Carmen had insisted to you he wasn’t interested in children unless you were. You were sure at one point you never wanted them, but you were becoming more afraid, because seeing as amazing an uncle Carmen was, how naturally kind and understanding he was of children- it brought out something in you. It was so sudden that you could imagine turning your shared library / art studio into a nursery during slow time at work.

You walked down the hall, in no rush to be home. The only presence waiting being your cat, Truffle, Carmy had insisted on the name due to his deep black fur.

You approached the door, confused as to why you were hearing…music? From your apartment? You shook the hope of Carmy being home this early away, not wanting to be dissapointed. The neighbors downstairs must be blasting that same kind of jazz instrumental Carmy listens to so loud that you heard it through the floor.

You unlock the door, and sure enough the music playing softly through the condo gets a tad louder but the first thing to catch your eye was the white and pink rose petals making a trail to the kitchen. You heard Carmy humming lightly, the sound of chopping on the cutting board.

“Bear?” You quickly nudge the door shut with your hip, not even bothering to take your shoes off and rushing down the hall into the kitchen. Sitting atop the breakfast bar, was a vase packed with beautiful pink and white roses.

He looks up from the cutting board “My favorite girl” he stops what he was doing immediately coming and taking the bags from your shoulders, setting them down before greeting you with a sweet kiss. He cupped your cheeks gently, pulling you in to him so you were flush together with his other hand.

“You used our card f’that right?” He asked softly when he pulled away. You roll your eyes a bit, he had insisted you get a shared credit card, and that you purchase everything with it- and at the end of the month, he will show you the statement, and only pay a quarter of the total, just another one of the ways he assured every financial burden of yours was eased significantly.

“Yes, what is all this baby?” You asked, motioning to the roses. “Did I forget somethin? Our anniversary isn’t for another 2 months” you asked a bit nervously. Carmen wasn’t a stickler for dates, but it would break your heart if you were to forget something important.

“No- no. I just…just love you- I wanted to show you, and especially after this week I know I’ve been crazy busy, and I’ve been comin’ in late and leavin’ early, and…I just wanted to show my best girl how much she means t’me” he kissed your forehead sweetly and you felt a blush creeping to your cheeks.

“That’s so sweet Bear. Thank you I love you, this is…no one’s ever done this- oh my god- are those balloons?” You giggled, seeing heart shaped foil balloons tied to your chair at the table and he smiled proudly.

“Mmhmm, the lady at the flower place said that - we can talk about it later. You wanna cook w’me? You can just watch if you want?” He asked, gently brushing his fingers through your hair.

“I never turn down a lesson from the best, let me go get changed real quick” you headed toward the bedroom and he stopped you by your hand pulling you back into his chest, kissing your neck with wet open mouth kisses earning a giggle that you couldn’t contain.

“Mmm- don’t go in there right now, it’s for later. I already got your pajamas right here” he said going over to the couch and grabbing your favorite pair of sweatpants and his old ‘the beef’ tshirt that to you was the most comfortable thing in the world, especially when he wore it to bed for a few nights before giving it back.

“For later huh?” You muse, taking off your heeled booties and unbuttoning your slacks before peeling them off and trading them for your soft fuzzy grey sweatpants.

“Mmhmm” he hummed in response and took your pants for you and your blouse and bra as well, bringing them to the laundry room as you put the shirt on and got your hair situated into a bun.

“What are we cooking today, chef?” You asked, heading over to the kitchen to see there were little bowls of vegetables that have been precut and you gasp happily. “Stop- are we really?” You giggled.

“I told you that it’s easy baby but you hate eggplant so ratatouille isn’t gonna be something you’re a big fan of” he chuckled. You had watched the movie with him, and told him that the ratatouille dish looked insanely delicious and that you wanted him to make it for you, but he told you your aversion to eggplant would probably turn you off the dish.

“But there isn’t eggplant” you said looking over the dishes filled with various vegetables.

“That’s right, this is princess ratatouille. I’ve been figurin’ out different vegetables w’Syd that would work for it, we finally got it right. We have zucchini and a few different squashes, and we have onion and garlic, tomato, bell pepper, everything you like. I think you’ll love it baby.” He said rubbing your back gently.

“Of course I’m gonna love it bear, I love everything we make together you have the magic touch. So what’s my job?” You asked eagerly.

“You my special sous chef, are gonna help put the veggies in and I’m gonna do the sauce” He kissed your temple gently.

“Ok! Let me get my apron” You said, happily turning to the drawer you kept your aprons in.

“Wait-” he said, holding your arm. You look back at him and he looked…nervous.”Is…something wrong?” You questioned, brows furrowed slightly in concern.

“No- no I um….i got you a new one” he said sheepishly, walking over to the island and opening up the cupboard beneath you never used.

“Oh- ok..Leveling up are we?” You joked, happily leaning against the counter.

“Jesus-” he chuckled, “Close y’r fuckin eyes- carnival psychic” he teases and you laughed, obliging and closing your eyes.

“Carnival psychic?” you asked and he came over gently putting bundle of fabric in your awaiting hands.

“I swear t’god- you went snoopin’? Open your eyes” he said. You opened your eyes, looking into your hands and seeing an apron. It was white, just like his, and folded perfectly. In thick black letters, intricately painted, ‘ Will You Marry Me? ‘ Adorned with a little red heart over the center pocket that had a square shaped bump.

You felt all of the blood leave your face, your knees feeling wobbly, your mouth gaping in to an O shape, as you stare down at the apron. “Where did you get this?” you whispered, completely awestruck.

“I-I…um…made it?” he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “I- shit. Fuck- is this not how you pictured it? I’m so fuckin sorry babe- I-I thought…I dunno- like.. You wanted it private? Cause I know you said you’d never-” he’s interrupted by your lips crashing on his in a fervent wanting kiss, a mix of spit and teeth and lips and tongues, he moans softly into your mouth, squeezing your waist.

You were pressed together so firmly that the small box dug into your ribs, eventually pulling away from him with shaking hands and reaching into the pocket, pulling out the small black velvet box. You ever so carefully opened it, your breath catching in your throat when you saw the absolutely breathtaking ring.

“I-it’s not uh..not a diamond- cause I know you said-” you interrupt him

“Princesses and Queens don’t wear diamonds, they wear crystals” you finished, staring at the beautifully cut opal, at least 8 carats, banded by a intricate edwardian band… nothing short of a ring for a Goddess.

“But..But- this one…it does- it has both…because uh” he swallows thickly. “It…in my mind- when I s-saw it, it represented your soul, and your physical body.. And I liked that. Cause- y’re my diamond, but you’re also my queen, my everything, baby. Like how - how you said that…you wished your aura was opal? It is. It is, angel. And every time you look at that, I want you to remember that you’re beautiful from your diamond exterior, to your opal soul” he brushed his finger over the ring, before meeting your gaze once again.

He gently wiped the tears that were running down your cheeks freely, hot and wet and open. It was rare that Carmy genuinely used his words rather then his actions to express his love for you, so you were nothing short of savoring this. “Holy fucking shit” you laughed, shaking your head and looking down at the ring box. “Put it on my hand” you held your left hand out.

He chuckled a bit, “so… yes? You will?” he asked carefully, pulling the ring out of the box.

“Are you kidding, YES! Put this ring on my finger and fuck me dumb- this is all i’ve ever wanted, Bear, I fucking love you- and youre asking if I want you to be my husband?! I’ve wanted nothing more for two years- at least!” you shake your left hand for emphasis, a wide large grin on your face.

He carefully slid the ring over your manicured finger, and it just made you cry more how it fit perfectly. “How do you know my size?!” you asked, since most of the vintage rings he'd bought you were adjustable so it didn't matter the size of the rings he’d gotten for you before.

He chuckled a bit, “so- y’re ring…y’know the one…y’thought you lost it at Chipotle like…ahhh- 8 months ago now? In the bathroom? Y’took it off at the table, you wore it on your ring finger so I had to take my chance. You kept sayin how it was like- the only ring you’d found that fit without takin’ it to the jewler. So uh” he dug in his jeans pocket, placing your beloved vintage ring with your starsign on it in your palm.

“I got that ring, based on the size. I got it uhhh…sorry dont be offended- it’s not new… I got it at an estate sale of this lady- it was crazy- the way I came across it babe… like fate. It was when Syd and I went to New York for that interview, she literally dragged me to this sale cause she said the lady who died was said to have a bunch of vintage fur and stuff she was looking f’somethin- anyway. We met the lady’s daughter- Stella? I think it was? Doesn’t matter… but she um..said her Ma was some crazy astrology nut, also said she only wore crystals. So I took a look… that was the first box I opened. And y’ring on my pinky, it fit perfect, so I tried it on- it fit like a glove. I’m glad we don't have to size it. Asked her if it was real, she said - her Ma told ‘er some…. Like life coach? Er- astrologer life coach author? Gave it to ‘er on a trip to Jamaica in the 60’s. Told ‘er ‘this ring will someday be worn on a hand proudly as a devotion of true love’- Miss- No! Madame ! Madame Stardust. Nutty name right?” he chuckled a bit.

You smiled proudly at the ring, a devotion of true love indeed. “I think” you turned to the counter, stacking the bowls of vegetables together and putting them in the fridge as you friskily countered “you are not going in to work at all next week- wifes orders” you walked over to him, hips swaying. “And after you fuck me absolutely stupid” you grabbed his collar, pulling him in so your faces were meer inches apart “Oh- and we talk about how this mademe stardust? Confirms that our souls are indeed woven together like a fucking wicker basket” you kiss him roughly, weaving your fingers through his dirty blonde curls and tugging firmly.

He moaned into your mouth, his hands trailing down and squeezing your ass firmly. You hummed in satisfaction, leaning against him and he stumbled back, back, back, pushing the bedroom door open with a squeak. You looked up, Breaking your kiss with wide eyes.

All throughout the bedroom, were printed photos of you and Carmy throughout the years, suspended with clear wire so it was as if the photos were floating midair. You clasp your hands over your mouth, admiring all the hard work and pure thought that had went into the gesture. You looked over all the photos, three years of memories hanging before you like a gallery of love surrounding you, all of your fondest happiest memories at every flicker of your eyes.

“Carmen” you whispered, walking forward and admiring each and every photograph…

He comes behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Y’know how you said no work next week…” he said softly, kissing up your neck with wet, sexy, open mouthed kisses. “We leave Sunday… F’Cyprus” He said hotly in your ear, his breath tickling your neck causing a moan to escape your lips as he gently lifts your shirt, palming your breast gently.

“Is- is that-” you breathe out

“We’re getting a tour of Aphrodites Baths” he said softly, rolling your taught nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“Ah- y-you remembered?” you gasped, he let out a soft deep chuckle, Kissing the corner of your mouth and gently laying you down upon the soft sheets of your shared bed.

“I’d have proposed over a year ago- when I got the fuckin’ ring if i coulda gotten us the tour sooner” he muttered into your skin, tugging off your- (his) shirt, leaving supple, gentle kisses over your stomach and up your ribs.

“Mm- are we- can we swim?” I asked hopefully.

He gently wipes your tears away, “No” he said a bit sadly, “We can dip our hands… some asshole ruined swimming for people years ago…before we met…but- we were also gonna Parga Greece, baby. We’re spending 2 days in Cyprus, then flying to Parga on a charter- we can swim, fuck, do whatever in those waters baby. Amidst the Goddess of the Underworld f’five whole days” he smirked and you gasped, as if he’d gotten you the moon on a string.

“The Acheron River?” you whisper and he nodded, gently rubbing his thumb over your lips.

“That is the sexiest thing i’ve ever heard in my life- you’re gonna make me cum in the 2nd most famous river of Hell?” you giggled and he snorts a laugh, pushing you on the bed gently.

“Fuck yeah, you little fuckin’ freak” he teased, tugging off your panties and sweatpants in one swift pull, leaving you soaked and bare before him.

You gasped at the rough action, quickly being soothed by soft, sweet kisses over your hipbones.

“I fuckin smell y’kitten fuck” he growled, kissing the inner of your thigh in the way that made you creen.

“Shit- good- right? If y’compared me to a seafood market i’d break your nose” you teased, hooking the crooks of your knees over his shoulders, shivering when he leaned in closer, his hot breath directly over your clit- his lapis blue eyes boring into yours.

“That question doesn’t deserve an answer” he grumbled hotly, spreading your folds with his fingers and admiring the wet, slick, mess in front of him. “S’fuckin pretty princess- fuckin’ prettiest pussy in the world” he nearly moaned, burrying his mouth where you needed him most, eyes fixed on yours.

You couldn’t even make a sound- a hot breathy gasp escaping your slack-jawed stance as your head flopped back on the mattress with a soft bounce. “Mmmmm shit” Carmy hummed, satisfied with your taste as if he was devouring his favorite dessert.

“F-Ffuuuckkk” you whimpered out pathetically, voice cracking and bleeding out between the fracture lines of your hot intense pleasure.

“Mmhmm-mmmhmmm” Carmy mumbled confidently against your now firm clit, tongue flicking over it at a mind-numbing pace, bringing you right to the edge and hanging you there by a single finger.

“Ahhhh-Ahhhh-Fuck!! Carmy! Oh- ohhhh!!!” You whined, spine pointing in an arch off the mattress, your hips and thighs quivering and shaking wildly as your orgasm crashed over you like hot lightning before you could even warn him, or know yourself it was so close.

“Goooood girl, thats it- mm- my good fuckin’ girl- Y’gonna be my fuckin’ wife baby? Mmm? Gonna be mine? F’rever?” He grumbled, placing a gentle kiss to your clit before placing gentle yet firm pressure over it with the pad of his tongue that made your hips buck with a mind of their own.

He chuckled slightly into your heat, the vibration causing you to whine pathetically. “Y-yes-yes-fuck i’mfuckinyoursBear-y’gonnamakemey’wife? Yeah? Gonna make me Mrs. fuckin Carmen Berzatto?” you slurred, pulling him into a messy wanting kiss, soughing at the flavor of your core coating his spit.

“Fuckin- spit in my fucking mouth- claim me” you groaned. He smiled against your lips, pulling away slightly, a thick hot string of saliva connecting the two of you.

“So fuckin dirty” he grumbled with a smirk “Open that filthy fucking mouth” he ordered, getting quiet for a moment as he gathered saliva in the front of his mouth.

You obeyed him immediately - your jaw going slack, tongue stuck out ever so slightly and eyes fluttered shut. Then- you felt it, hot, sweet, salty saliva coating your tongue, you groan at the flavor as it continues pooling over your tastebuds. “Do not fucking swallow yet- greedy girl” he tapped your chin firmly, before pulling your jaw open wider with Tthe pad of his thumb.

“Stick out that pretty little tongue” he grumbled, you obeyed with a smile, opening wide as you could, sticking your tongue out far, showing off the creamy white saliva he’d dressed your tongue in, so much it was seeping down onto your chin, threatening to coat the front and back of your throat.

“Good girl- that's my good little kitten” he purred, “How d’you want me princess?” he gently collected the excess saliva from your chin on his thumb, sucking it off his digit hotly as he awaits your response while you swallow gratefully, the taste setting your soul ablaze.

“I want you to fucking claim me, Carmy, holy fuck- use me, worship me, fuck me like a goddamn animal- whatever you fucking want- please” you begged after you’d savored the taste while you swallowed, his sky blue eyes going dark as navy slacks with lust at the admission.

“Yeah? Why not all three?” he pushed you down to the mattress by your throat, not hard enough to bruise- but hard enough for the breath to leave your lungs and your core to throb so hard you were clenching your thighs, trying to give any solace of pressure to your swollen aching clit.

“P-please” you stuttered, writhing against the mattress and he chuckled darkly.

“Are we a little needy? Mmm princess?” he pushes your knees apart with his thigh, aiding the throbbing pressure with his strong fingers, rubbing firm, slow circles into the twitching bud that made your hips snap into the mattress and head fall back to the bed, eyes rolling back with a sharp gasp of pleasure.

“Pl-please-” you gasp out, spine arching sharply as he replaced his fingers with his mouth on your clit, 2 fingers slipping inside of you with no resistance due to the fact your core was so soaked it was beginning to pool at the dip of your bum and soak the sheets. The squelching as he pumped into your g-spot mixed with your high-pitched moans and frisky growls was absolute sin.

He opens his jaw wider, tonguing your entrance wildly and nuzzling his strong nose against your clit in broad strokes, randomly flicking back and forth quickly making you squeal in pleasure as you grind against his mouth, fully out of control of your movements as if you were a puppet on a string.

“H-Hooooo-i’m cumming- oh- don’t you dare fucking stop Carmen” you growled, grabbing his curls and pullinghim further into your core. “I’m cumming- i’mcumming-holy-holyfuck-imfuuuckiing-AAAH!” your thighs and hips shake and quiver, stars of ethereal white filling your vision.

“Mmhmmm” he grumbled, coming up and sucking your nipple with his slick lips, his chin and nose soaked with your arousal, so much so his chin dripped onto your ribs.

“H-Oh-yes Bear” you whined out, head tilting to meet his gaze. “I need you- I-I need you inside- like- fuck- when you- you have my knees around your hips and y-you fuckin’- just drill me Carmy- I need that- need you deep” You reverberated wantingly, wrapping your thighs around his waist taughtly, making it easier for him to take you exactly how you wanted.

“Jesus Christ- I can’t fuckin’ stand y’baby. Y’re like a fuckin’ drug- it’s like I fuckin’ function unless I’ve had a hit” he nibbed your collarbone, quickly removing his jeans and boxers, aligning himself with your entrance.

You gave him a mischievous smile, inching your hips forward. “C’mon- I don’t give a fuck ‘bout cooking right now- fuck me absolutely dumb- then take me to Sam’s f’r chocolate chip pancakes- sure that waitress will be over the moon bout my ring” you mused, capturing our lips together, as he scoops up your shoulders and holds you chest to chest, your third of many orgasms that night building throughout every muscle.

It was going to be a long night….

#carmen berzatto #the bear fx #carmy berzatto #the bear fic #the bear hulu #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmy berzatto fanfiction #the bear #the bear fanfiction #carmen berzatto fluff #carmy the bear #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy x reader #carmen x reader #carmen berzatto smut #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #the bear fandom #borders & banners by saradika

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hyperactively-me · 8 months

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Princess!reader finally slipping up and insulting King Ghost by calling him a murderer, or saying that she hates him for that reason. King Ghost finally understanding why she doesn't like him. I need the angst and drama aaaA.

In the dimly lit chambers of the royal quarters, a heavy silence settled. King Ghost sat at his desk, surrounded by the flickering light of candles, lost in the weight of his responsibilities. He had always carried the weight of the crown with solemn grace, ruling his kingdom with a firm hand and an unwavering dedication. Ruling with a strong hand was necessary for Kastron to survive, earning the respect of his subjects and the loyalty of his council. Yet, despite his outward strength, there was a void within him that he couldn't quite fill – the strained relationship with his own wife.

You kept him at a cold distance that seemed impassable. He could feel your eyes on him, could sense the tension in the air whenever you were in the same room. He yearned to bridge the gap between you, to understand the source of your resentment, but it remained unspoken. He knew that you resented him for taking you away from your home, for throwing you into this role that you never asked for.

That evening, during dinner, you were absentmindedly pushing around your food with your fork. Your posture was tense, your face scrunched up, lost in thought.

Ghost clears his throat, the sound echoing in the quiet room.

“What are you thinkin’ about?”

“Oh, this question again,” you snap.

Being immediately met with your hostility, he prepares for a blowout argument to occur.

“Can I not ask how my wife is doing?”

Your gaze hardened, your fingers curling into fists. You slam your fork down, springing up from your chair.

“Your wife,” you scoff.

“It’s what you are, are you not?”

You don’t say anything.

“Do you want to tell me what you’re thinking about? We’ve been playing this game of back and forth and I’m growing tired of it.”

“You want to know? You really are asking me this? Fine, I'll tell you.” Your voice trembled with suppressed emotion, a volcano on the brink of eruption. “I hate you for what you do.”

If he wasn’t paying attention before, he definitely is now. He sets down his fork softly.

“Tell me what I do.”

His simple response, his nonchalance, his ignorance of the whole situation, of your feelings, enrages you. The anger that had been simmering within you finally bubbled over, and you couldn't hold back the torrent of emotions any longer. Your voice cracked as you unleashed the storm that had been building up for far too long.

“You’re a murder, a killer. You’re a murderer and I can’t stand the thought of being married to someone who has so much blood on their hands.”

Ghost's posture stiffened, his own anger simmering beneath his usually controlled demeanor. “You speak as though I enjoy it. As though I revel in the violence.”

A bitter laugh escaped your lips, devoid of any humor. “Maybe you don't revel in it, but you certainly tolerate it, don't you? You justify it as the cost of maintaining your power. Well, I can't stand it. I can't stand the sight of you, knowing what you've done.”

His gaze bore into yours, the tension between you like a physical weight in the room. He opened his mouth, searching for words to counter your accusations, but you interrupted him.

“And not to mention, I’m here now. Yeah, I’m all of a sudden the queen of your kingdom, and everyone expects me to tolerate it and to know what I’m doing. I have no fucking idea what I’m supposed to be doing here.”

Ghost's eyes flashed with frustration. “You think I don't carry the weight of every decision I make? You think I don't question myself, every night, about the lives lost under my command?”

Your laughter was harsh, cutting through the air like a blade. "Your remorse doesn't wash the blood on your hands. And it certainly doesn't—”

“You don’t even know what you’re talking about, do you?” he cuts you off, the interruption slicing through the air.

His voice is low and strained.

“You don't know the weight of these decisions this kingdom has had to face. You don't know the sacrifices I've had to make to protect this kingdom, to ensure its survival. Every choice I make, every life lost, it's a burden I carry with me every day.”

Your breath caught in your throat, his words penetrating the walls of anger you had built up. You looked into his eyes, seeing something raw beneath his exterior. For the first time in a long while, you saw Ghost not as a cold king, but as a man – a man burdened by the choices he had made.

“I never wanted you to see me like this. I never wanted you to be exposed to the violence associated with me, and I sure as hell never wanted you to despise me.”

“You’re too good for me, you don’t deserve to be in this kingdom with me. So I tried my best to shield you from this side of me, from the violence associated with Kastron. I want to work toward a better future, not only for the kingdom, but for us.”

You take in his words, understanding the weight of it. You’re going to be here for a lifetime. You’re not going anywhere. And who are you if you back down from a challenge? No, you’re a fighter, and you’ll go down fighting for what you think is right until the day you die.

“I don’t know if I can just…forget everything,” you say slowly. “And I’m not expecting you to.”

“But, I can’t live the rest of my life here resenting you. It’s exhausting. I mean, fuck, I’m the queen of this kingdom,” you shake your head.

A deep sigh escaped your lips, your shoulders sagging as the weight of your anger began to lift, replaced by a complex mixture of emotions.

"I don’t want to resent you," you admitted, your voice softer now. You twist the wedding ring on your finger. Ghost pretends not to notice.

“How can I close this distance between us?” Ghost pipes up with a calm tone. “How can I be better for you?”

“I… I don’t really know…” you say. “I just want to get to know who you really are. Who Simon is.”

He’s quiet.

“I could say the same for you, you know. I want to know who you are as well.”

You nod slowly. “Okay…”

“After all, we do have a lifetime together,” he grunts. You pick your fork back up and take a bite of food. You think while you chew, taking in the last few moments.

“I hope, with time, we can find a way to…overcome this. Together.” You nod your head solemnly.

Silence settled between you, a tense quiet that held the hope of change. The journey ahead was uncertain, a path fraught with challenges, but as you looked at him, you saw not just a king with blood on his hands, but a man willing to confront his past.

The anger that had ignited your words was still there, but it was tempered now by a glimmer of understanding, a sliver of hope that maybe, just maybe, you could find a way to stand together against the darkness that haunted both of you.

- - - - -

(masterlist)

#damn #okay #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon “ghost” riley x reader #simon “ghost” riley x you #hyperactivelyme

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adrinoir · 10 months

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Can we just applaud the writers for the amount of kissing we’ve gotten in season 5?

They’ve all been SO passionate, a bit spicy, and well animated! Like yes please, keep it coming, I love it, it fills the romance void in my life

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mehbzz · 1 year

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Mother's Day

Poly!Ghostface Billy Loomis x F!Reader Stu Macher x F!Reader

18+ No real plot as usual, more like scenes out of a relationship. AU with Billy's mom having left earlier in his life. Yandere vibes, insecure/unstable Billy and Stu, insinuated violence/murder if you squint, oral sex, abusive relationships, misogyny, unsatisfying sex.

There's an itch crawling under Billy’s skin. A violent cold itch that had started with a panic filled awakening from a nightmare. A nightmare where he’d lost you. You’d just gone. Your house empty and void of anything even remotely connected to you. He knew what was triggering it. He knew even if he wouldn’t directly acknowledge it. It was dumb, childish. His father had called him stupid for getting upset over it more times than he could count growing up. It was a commercial holiday, nothing to act like a pansy over. You’re a man now, act like it. But the dread from the nightmare had persisted. Like a toothache he kept returning to it, poking it, prodding it, letting the fear grow and the thoughts spiral until he was dragging Stu out of bed at 9am in order to go check on you.

"She's working."

"I know." He snaps, he can’t take his eyes off you as you talk to a customer at the counter. He feels stupid if he’s honest, embarrassed, but the dark thoughts are winning out over logic.

"Sooo dial it back a bit," Stu pokes at a couple of VHS tapes in mild curiosity, glancing at him out the corner of his eye. "You look like you want to tear someone's head off."

“She's-,”

"Working." Stu finishes for him. “We’ve been here for nearly half an hour dude, I’m dying of boredom.” It interrupts his spiralling thoughts to see Stu so nonchalant, puts a little pause in his almost crushing sense of insecurity. Billy finally tears his gaze away from you to stare at him, and Stu returns his stare with a look Billy was tempted to call concerned.

"Something going on I should know about?"

"No." He hisses and Stu holds his hands up in surrender, taking half a step back.

"Alright man, only asking."

He's aware of Stu hovering, the constant glances. Instead of feeling annoying and adding to his bad mood it feels kind of comforting. He watches as you say something to the girl that makes her laugh. There’s an uncomfortable knot of something vicious growing in his chest, he feels like he’s about to do something he’ll regret. You’re here. He repeats it in his head like a mantra, trying to control the lingering fear that he’d woken up with in the middle of the night. You’re here, you’re not gone, not like-, you laugh and it distracts him, his attention focusing in on you once more. You’d obviously been on cleaning duty before being interrupted; you’re wearing an old worn tabard and have dirt smeared across your cheek.

“She looks cute. Domestic,” Stu murmurs over his shoulder. He flinches but he doesn't move away from the heat of Stu's hands on his hips. "Shame she’s being such a little flirt right now." Stu's hand moves a little lower skirting over Billy's stomach and teasing the zipper of his jeans. “Flirt?” He repeats. Were you actually flirting? Now Stu has mentioned it he can’t stop noticing the curve of your lips as you smile, the way you’re holding eye contact with her. Are you usually this chatty with your customers?

“Yeah, look at her,” Stu leans forward until his lips brush over his ear as he whispers. “maybe we should drag her home and remind her who she belongs to?"

This was a bad idea, letting Stu be so brazen with him in public but he couldn't find it in himself to care right at that moment. The girl leans against the counter, her fingers brushing your wrist as she takes her tapes. Can you really not tell she’s flirting with you? You’re so damn naïve sometimes. He feels a little flurry of anger at you, his jaw on the verge of breaking from the tension. He needs to distract himself, distract himself from Stu’s attempt at riling him up. “Domestic?” He hates that his voice comes out strained rather than the teasing jab he was aiming for. He watches you talk and he’s hit with a strong desire to push his fingers against your jaw, to press his thumb inside your mouth and feel the way your tongue moves around the words. His hands drop to Stu’s and tug them gently away. He can’t deal with it; he feels exposed, like Stu is brushing over raw skin and nerves. “You really have a thing for the housewives don’t you?”

"I have a fantasy, sue me." Stu shrugs, obviously disappointed that Billy didn’t rise to his bait, taking a step away from him and returning his attention to the tapes in front of them.

An oddly tame fantasy for Stu, almost romantic even, it makes him wonder if Stu thinks about his future with you more often than he would ever admit. Billy doesn't think much about the future aside from the fact that you and Stu are in it. Is it something you think about? He can't imagine you being a housewife. Did you want to get married? Did you want kids? Did you even-

"Billy." Stu snaps his name, exasperation written all over his face. "Day for over thinking huh?"

He shrugs. "Didn't sleep well."

"Uh huh that’s kinda obvious." Stu is watching him closely, and he tries to school his face into his usual blank mask. It's difficult, always is around Stu, and he doesn't think it works from the way Stu shifts a little closer.

"I uh-" Stu clears his throat, suddenly awkward, fidgety. "If you wanna talk about it-," He trails off, he isn't quite making eye contact and Billy is briefly distracted from Stu’s attempt at comforting him with the thought of how fucking cute it is to see him flounder. "We should go?”

It’s phrased as a question but Billy doesn’t think it really is one, and he doesn’t answer, his gaze trailing after the girl as she finally leaves, the sudden urge to do some violent making his fingers twitch. “Let’s leave bunny to do her job and go back to mine instead. You can tell me all the gross gory things you want to do to that chick while I pound you into the mattress."

Billy’s lips twitch with the barest hint of a smile. He's not in the mood for that, he thinks his skin would blister and split if he was touched right now but the-

"Or just the gory things is good too,” Stu’s voice drops to a whisper. “Easy enough to find out who she is."

He stops staring at you long enough to glance back at Stu, startled. It always takes him off guard when Stu does that, when he reads him so easily, especially when he feels like he’s hiding his thoughts pretty well. “Bunny’s not going anywhere Bill.” He says it so softly that Billy is not sure if he imagined it. “Let’s go.”

"I need to-, should say bye first."

"Don't think she knows we're here dude, we've kinda been lurking." Stu huffs, running a hand through his hair when Billy doesn’t move, giving a quick glance around the store. “You’re-, fine whatever, be quick.” You look startled as Billy approaches you, but you smile. A smile that's too bright and too happy and he fights the urge to snap at you for it. You're too obvious sometimes with your affection, even as his heart swells and he feels a little calmer at your obvious joy at seeing him.

“What’s up?” You follow him without question when he beckons you over, down an empty aisle until he can’t resist the temptation any longer and reaches out to grasp your wrist but the touch of you doesn’t ease his rising need for violence like it usually does. He’s spiralling out of control, he’s aware enough to know it but even as he tries to calm his racing heart it feels like he’s fighting a losing battle. He needs you to say something, to ground him but he doesn’t know how to ask, or even what he wants you to say.

“You’d never leave me, right?” he blurts, fingers tight around your wrist.

“I-, what?” You look so completely bewildered, it’s kind of adorable. “No, course not.”

He nods. You’re speaking, he’s watching your mouth move, probably asking him what’s wrong but he’s not listening, getting too lost in his thoughts. Sometimes it feels like his entire existence revolves around you and Stu. He doesn’t think you realise how much he needs you to survive. It was unhealthy, he’d been told so but he didn’t agree. His therapist had used words like overly-reliant and co-dependent and he’d learnt pretty quickly not to be honest about how he’d really been feeling. Not that he had to listen to their bullshit any more, as soon as his Dad had stopped asking him about his sessions he’d stopped going.

“I thought-,” He cuts himself off; he doesn’t know what he thought. Not really. It’s a whole jumbled mess in his head. You watch him quietly as he closes his eyes, emotions flicking over his face so quick you can’t follow them all. “I love you.” His free hand slides up your arm to hold you loosely by the nape of the neck, resting his forehead against yours as takes a deep breath. A little shiver of arousal down your spine as his thumb traces down the side of your neck before his palm slides gently around your throat. It takes you by surprise, a small whimper slipping past your lips and a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth, his fingers flexing into the side of your throat.

“Bunny,” he whispers, leaning in to graze his lips over yours. “I-,”

“Bunny! What an absolute surprise to see you here.” Stu appears behind him, throwing an arm over Billy’s shoulder and practically yanking him away from you. It takes you a second to remember where you are, blinking a few times before you focus on Stu.

“Hey. I- uh-,” you clear your throat awkwardly as you glance between the two of them. “You’re both up early.”

“Our moody boy here wanted breakfast,” Stu grins and you can’t help but return it, despite Billy’s offended glare. “Dragged me out of bed so early this morning. Didn’t even get chance to jerk off.”

“Okaayyy,” You draw the word out as you grimace, eyes closing briefly. “Gross Stu, I really didn’t need to know that.”

“But it’s a problem you can help me with. I’m backed up, achy –ow.” Stu whimpers as you smack him, a little too hard if his wince is anything to go by but he doesn’t retaliate.

“Well too bad I got to work,” You tug at the end of Billy’s shirt as you push him gently towards the door, hoping he doesn’t get upset at your attempt to steer them out. “Would have totally dropped to my knees right here and now.”

“Don’t encourage him.” Billy sighs and you stick your tongue out at his exasperated look.

“What? No, encourage me bunny,” Stu turns back to look at you, walking backwards as he grins. “Encourage away.”

Billy shakes his head and you relent. “Ok Ok, sorry. No encouraging while at work.” You raise your hands and Billy snorts.

“You two just-,” He shakes his head, lips twitching as he tries to resist the urge to smile. “Idiots.”

“Charming. You said it yourself remember? We’re soulmates. You’ll join us in idiocy eventually, it’s inevitable.” You glance at Stu, his cheeks are faintly pink at your words but you know better than to mention it even though the satisfaction at taking him off guard with your affection never got old. “I finish at 1 today. You have plans?”

“Al-,”

“No,” Billy cuts him off quickly and to your surprise Stu doesn’t try and say anything else. “Come over?”

You nod, giving them a final gentle push toward the door. Billy’s reluctant to leave, you can tell, only taking the step through the door when Stu gives him a little jab in the ribs. Stu blows you a kiss as he follows, and you flip him off in return, a gesture that seems to have evolved into a sign of affection between the two of you and the way you two departed ways more often than not. He returns it, but not before he tugs the promo poster off the window as he goes.

“You’re a child.” You mouth and he cackles at your unimpressed look, shoving the door closed behind him quickly when you make a move towards him. You can hear him still laughing as you pick the poster up off the floor but you can’t find it in you to be genuinely annoyed by him, cursing at him half heartedly under your breath as you try to stick it back up.

The slow rhythmic creaking rock of the mattress wakes you. Its pretty light in Stu’s room, so it must be pretty early but it still takes you a minute to register what you’re seeing. Stu is laying next to you, a pillow between his thighs as he rock his hips down against it slowly. Oh. Your gaze flicks around the room in search of Billy but he’s nowhere to be seen, you swallow hard, eyes drawn back to Stu as he makes a quiet breathy sound in the back of his throat that turns into a whine. It’s hard to tear you gaze away from him and your thighs squeeze together in response as he rolls his hips faster. “Shit,” He breathes. “You like watching bunny?”

You’d been so focused on the rhythm of his hips that you hadn’t noticed his eyes open, his eyes fixated on you as he continues to grind against the pillow. You’re momentarily speechless and he huffs as he turns over on to his back, his cock resting heavily against his hip and you bite your tongue to stop the little noise that threatens to escape as you watch it twitch.

“Fuck,” He groans as he palms himself, bucking a little into his hand. “Come here bunny, want you to sit on my face,” His groan turning into a hiss as he runs his thumb over the head of his cock. “Let me eat that ass.” You shake your head as you watch him stroke himself faster, his hips jerking as he fucks his fist. When you make eye contact with him again he mutters something harsh under his breath, his hips bucking as he suddenly cums hard over his hand. He chokes out your name, cum splattering over his stomach and abdomen in thick streaks of white. He's panting as he wipes his hand across his hip, leaving a smear of cum across his skin that you have the urge to lick up.

“I-, uh,” You panic, face hot as you stutter. “Need to pee.”

He opens his mouth to respond but you throw back the covers and are moving towards the bathroom before he can say a word. You just need a minute.

He gives you maybe two before he follows you, stopping in the doorway of his bathroom to just stare at you. You’re in his t-shirt, nothing else, but his stare makes you feel as naked as he is.

“Where’s Billy?” You can’t think of anything else to say, not with him standing there so brazenly. You can’t meet his eye for more than a second, embarrassment still strong.

He shrugs. “Dunno. He couldn’t sleep, probably gone for a walk.”

“Oh.” You nod, trying and failing not to let your gaze drop. You couldn’t help it. He’s still half hard and there’s a glossy sheen of hastily wiped cum smeared across his abdomen. “Uh…”

A smirk crept across his lips. “Everything okay?”

“Yep.” You bite your lip, unsure why you feel so flustered. It’s not the first time you’ve watched him jerk off, but you feel like he’s just caught you doing something you shouldn’t have. His smile grows wicked as he watches you flounder, taking a step towards you.

“I was dreaming about you,” He shifts his weight, one hand dropping to curl around his cock and you watch as he gives himself a quick squeeze. He doesn’t explain further, doesn’t need to, your sudden refusal to meet his eye has him know you’re thinking something dirty. He shifts closer as he lets the dream replay through his mind. It had been violent, at least the flashes he could remember were. Bloody fingers, the taste of blood in his mouth and an all consuming need to get his hands around your heart that he can still feel nipping at him. It’s a dream Billy would love, would hit that morbidly romantic side of his and Stu tries to commit as much of it to memory as he can.

Dreaming of you. The easy admission makes your face heat even more, and he moves in closer, his hands sliding up over your hips, pushing you backwards until you take the hint and let him help you up to sit on the counter. You sigh as he slots himself between your thighs, gently poking you on the nose before one hand cups your jaw and he kisses you gently.

“Let’s go back to bed.” You murmur against his mouth, but he tenses slightly and pulls back. “Or not?” You feel like you’ve just said something wrong.

“You fuck him up you know. You’ve had him acting odd all day," Stu ignores your request, his hands resting on your thighs and squeezing lightly as he stares at you. “Think I’m a little jealous.”

“Yeah? Is this you jealous? It’s kinda hot," You try not to let the mood change, not rising to his attempt to bait you even though you’re taken aback by his slightly accusatory tone. "And I've definitely got you fucked up too buddy. I've seen the way you look at me." You reach up, flicking him on the forehead, relieved to see the small twitch of a smile on his lips.

"I was fucked up way before I met you bunny, but you're not wrong." Stu lets his hands slide up under the edge of your t-shirt, nails slightly scratching over your skin. "You do mess with my head."

You do. You mess with his head something fierce, in a way he hasn’t even told Billy about. Sometimes he doesn’t even know what to call the things that he feels for you. Emotions that seem to flick from one extreme to the other. He remembers the first time he had felt that odd little flutter of something that had felt a little too much like hate towards you. A group meet up at some coffee place and you’d had the audacity to sit next to Randy instead of him. It had stung, jabbed at him so hard that he’d felt blindingly angry for a split second. Had wanted to drag you over by your hair, sit you down and make you watch as he showed you what Randy’s insides looked like. It had shaken him a little, not the sudden influx of violent thoughts, he was used to that, it was the fact that the urge to be violent had involved you, that it had been directed towards you. He’d forced himself to joke to Billy that you’d replaced them already and Billy had looked at him in that annoying knowing way that he has and Stu knew he wasn’t being as subtle as he thought he was. Billy had been extra attentive for the rest of that day much to his annoyance. So yeah you fucked him up. Was that love? He didn’t know. There was something there, amongst the random bursts of resentment towards you, of jealousy over and of you, of feelings that he doesn’t always understand, but it got mixed in with this obsessive want and yearning of mine, mine, fucking mine into something volatile. Was it normal to want to hurt something you loved? You’re an endless pool of confusion to him but he wouldn’t give you up for anything.

"Stu-," You speak quietly. He’s zoning out, eyes fixated on your shoulder but not really seeing you. One warm palm spanning across your ribs as he holds you, his thumb tapping an odd rapid rhythm on your skin.

"Can I suck on your tits?”

His abrupt question throws you off and you pause as you stare at him. He doesn’t usually ask, usually just dives right in. He’s avoiding your eye as he cups your breasts, thumbs brushing your nipples over the thin cotton, like he’s waiting for your permission.

“Take it off then.” You raise your arms and he raises an eyebrow. You wait. Wait for him to say something, do something, anything other than just stare at your chest.

“Go on,” You arch your back a little, pushing your breasts closer to him and trying to keep your voice steady. You’d gotten better at this, better at reading him and better at toeing the line between being dominant and submissive with him, but it still made you nervous, the payback for getting it wrong was usually pretty exhausting. “Take it off for me.”

He doesn’t say anything as he pulls the shirt up over your head, throwing it over his shoulder, and you take that as a good sign. You can’t help rolling your eyes as he cups your breasts, giving them a squeeze and then a bounce. He grins and you bite your lip to stop yourself returning it.

"You're such a perv."

“You got no fucking idea." Stu mumbles as his mouth latches onto your nipple, it makes you jolt and you wince as his gentle sucking turns almost immediately into a sharp little bite.

"Jesus Stu, watch the teeth.”

"Sorry," He doesn’t sound it but he doesn’t bite you again, instead kissing his way across your chest. He’s being deliberately messy, licking wetly across your skin between each kiss. It feels slightly uncomfortable but he’s obviously getting off on it, humping against the inside of your thigh, cock smearing wetly across your skin with every grind of his hips.

“Bunny these tits I could cum like this, fuck-,”

“You-,” Your breath hitches. “You can. Want you to cum for me.”

He hums, leaning up to lick at the corner of your mouth and you take the opportunity to curl your hand tightly around his cock. He grunts and hunches forward, hiding his face in to the side of your neck as you squeeze and stroke him.

“Stu?” You murmur into his scalp, tracing your fingers over his shoulder as you stroke him, his hips jerking when you scratch your nail lightly over the tip. “Cum for me.”

He shudders hard then swats your hand away with a hiss. The sudden press of his cock between your legs makes you flinch but he doesn’t wait. With one slow push he was halfway inside and you gasped his name as you clung to the edge of the counter to keep yourself steady. Stu moaned low in his throat, pulling back an inch before sliding back inside until he was full seated inside you.

“You’re perfect,” He moans your name, his lips brushing your ear; “Made for me weren’t you? Mine, bunny.” He’s hit with a sudden rush of possessiveness that knocks him off kilter, he doesn’t want to look at you, doesn’t want you to know just how much of an effect you have on him. It makes him feel sickeningly vulnerable and he really doesn’t want you to realise just how much power you really have over him. He shoves his face into the side of your neck again as he tries to calm the sudden influx of emotions. It has him slamming into you with a force that has you crying out in surprise, or pain, he’s not sure. He doesn’t ask, doesn’t care, he knows you’ll take it regardless as he starts to move in earnest, gripping the back of your neck with one hand and your hip with the other, fucking into you harder on each stroke.

He draws back enough to watch where his cock continuously rocks up inside you. The little fission of self-conscious you feel at his rapt focus doesn’t last long as he fists his hand into your hair, forcing your head back so he can press his mouth over yours, his tongue licking over your teeth in a sloppy kiss.

It’s frantic; a quick rough fuck that was a big switch from how gently he’d kissed you at the start. He’s trying to force your orgasm from you with clumsy fingers stroking across your clit, but it’s not enough. It’s too awkward, his sudden desperation making his movements to uncoordinated to have you reaching your orgasm anytime soon. The scratch of his nail across the sensitive skin has your whole body tensing and shuddering around him and as he groans your name you can feel him pulsing inside you, his hips slowing to a languid grind as he rides out his orgasm.

There’s a mumbled apology against your mouth and you shake your head gently in response. “It’s ok.”

He’s completely out of breath but his hips keep rocking against you. “You feel so good bunny, so good.” He hisses. He won’t keep still, the wetness between your thighs growing as he starts to soften, his grunts turning into soft whimpery puffs of breath. “Shit, hurts so good.”

You lean back a little so you can peer up at him, the glass of the mirror cold against your back. His eyes are closed, a light frown across his face as he humps against you, pushing himself into over-stimulation. You cradle his face, brushing your thumb over his cheekbone and he shivers, leaning into your touch and finally stills, forehead resting against your shoulder. You don’t say anything, you don’t know what’s wrong, why they both seem so amped up today but you want to try and help. Billy talks, Stu doesn’t. This was probably the best way to give Stu the comfort or reassurance he probably didn’t realise he wanted.

“Bunny?”

You hum quietly in response, not wanting to break this calm little moment, letting your fingers scratch lightly through his hair and down the back of his neck.

“You know I-,” He tenses as he trails off, swallowing hard. He lifts his head slightly, and you’re not surprised to see the mischievous little glint in his eye. Whatever momentary invasion of emotion he’d had is gone, or more likely forced back down. He gives you a grin, fingers fluttering gently between your thighs. “I’m gonna make you cum pretty girl.”

"You don’t-," You began, jerking against him as he brushed two fingers down your stomach, brushing over your bellybutton before sliding between your thighs.

"I don’t what?" He rests his hands on your thighs as he drops to his knees.

“Nothing.” You sigh, hooking one leg over his shoulder and leaning back against the mirror. “You do have to actually.”

It’s his turn to stay quiet, just grins up at you as he dips between your legs, kissing along your inner thigh and licking one firm stripe up through your folds, his nose bumping your clit as he dipped his tongue inside you.

Stu grunts in response to your moan, replacing his tongue with one slender finger and stroking up inside you over a spot that had your back arching.

"Stu," Your heel dug into his back and the hand you had in his hair was probably painful for him but he was making almost as much noise as you, moaning loudly as he lapped at you. He curled a second finger inside you as he began to suck lightly on your clit, his free hand gripping the top of your thigh to keep you from moving too much.

It was awkward, the angle not allowing you to move your hips like you wanted to, grinding roughly against Stu’s face as your orgasm built quickly. He may get a little lost in his selfishness when he fucked you but fuck was he good with his mouth. Your eyes closed as you came, the hand in his hair pulling him in as close as you could as the waves of pleasure rocked through you until you couldn’t take anymore and pushed at his forehead in an effort to get him to stop.

He does, for once not seemingly inclined to torture you and stands slowly, pressing several kisses over your stomach, breasts and shoulder as he rises. The smile he gives you is sleepy, blinking at you slowly as he wipes the back of his hand over the wetness smeared across his mouth and chin.

“Why is it,” Billy starts and Stu jolts in surprise, a quiet curse falling from his lips. It makes you giggle and he glares at you in return. “Every time I leave you two alone for 5 minutes I come back to this exact scene?”

Stu shrugs. He’s not moved, still standing between your thighs and keeping you pinned on the counter.

“I’m irresistible,” You say and Stu nods enthusiastically in agreement, his fingers drawing idle patterns across your hips. “It’s a burden I have to bear.” You pout and Billy rolls his eyes.

“You’re definitely something.”

“Hey.” That felt like an insult. “I’m not so-,”

He reaches you before you can finish your complaint, his mouth pressing against yours in a ravenous kiss. Lips moving desperately against yours like he hasn’t seen you in years, it’s a little intimidating.

“As hot as this is,” You break the kiss, breathless. “I’m kinda cold. And sticky. I really need to shower. Join us?”

Billy pauses, his gaze flicking between you and Stu, who seems to be spacing out again, his fingers tracing what feels like letters across your knee. “I just showered.”

You look him over, only just noticing the dampness of his hair. “I thought you went for a walk?”

“Sure, I mean technically I did. I walked home.”

“You went home at 5 in the morning to shower?” You frown, you’re confused and a little distracted, half of you trying to decipher what Stu is writing on your skin. “And you just walked back? That’s-,”

“I needed a breather bunny.”

You bite your tongue and just nod. There’s that dismissive defensive note in his voice that means he doesn’t want to talk about it anymore. If you push it he’ll spiral.

“So that’s a no on the shower then? Suit yourself.” Stu finally speaks, startling you as he moves away, grasping your hand and tugging you not so gently down from the counter. You curse him out, which he ignores of course and only make it two stumbled steps towards the shower before Billy is wrapping his hand around your other wrist.

“Can we play tug o war later? I’m sticky,” You point out. “shower.” That rare horrid feeling of being out of place is starting to creep in again as Stu reaches out to flick a stray lock of hair off Billy’s forehead. You hate these moments, where you feel a little like they’re forgetting you’re an actual person and not just their favourite toy. Selfish assholes the little voice in the back of your head helpfully provides but you shut it down quickly.

“Guys.” You let the exasperation leak into your voice, you don’t want to interrupt whatever silent conversation is going on but you’re naked. And cold. “Starting to feel a little awkward here with the no clothes thing going on.”

They both ignore you as Stu plants a quick, chaste kiss on Billy’s mouth then abruptly lets you go, grabbing a towel and shoving it into your arms.

“Fine. you two shower, I’ll wait,” He grabs his own towel, slinging it around his waist as he heads for the door. “I’ll order some food.” He pauses, turns back and points at the two of you. “Then you’re sitting on my face.”

Billy makes a noise of surprise and you busy yourself with tugging your towel tighter round your shoulders.

“You talking to me or him?” Your face feels flushed, your mind suddenly invaded with images of the two of them together.

Stu shrugs. “You can fight it out between yourselves.” He sticks his tongue out, curling the tip in an obscene gesture that has Billy’s breath hitching. “See you losers later.”

Billy seems frozen for a second before he turns back to you and you can’t help your grin at the eager expression he tries to hide behind his usual indifference.

“Seems I get dinner and a show,” You drop your towel, enjoying the way Billy’s gaze immediately rakes over your body as you step into the shower. “Aren’t I a lucky girl?”

#scream 1996 #billy loomis #stu macher #billy loomis x reader #stu macher x reader #scream #poly!ghostface #poly ghostface #yandere

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average-vibe · 3 months

Text

.•silence•.

Pairing: Wilbur Soot X Fem!Reader

Summary: What happens when people take you and wilbur’s relationship out of hand?

Genre: Angst (i’ve become angst girly at this point 😭)

TW: Cursing, wilbur’s toxic

A/N: Am i a sucker for angst? yessir. will i apologize? no way

masterlist

Lowercase is intentional :)

rumors of you and wil had been spiraling around the internet for a while now. there was always a creepy side of the internet that shipped the two of you together, but at this point the “wilbur x yn” posts you had been seeing were getting out of hand.

the fan fictions, the DMs, the tweets, everyone thought the two of you were together.

but you weren’t.

you didn’t mind the rumors, and you had definitely thought about it, and talked about it with him, but you had never actually done it. and you didn’t especially want to, either. it would ruin the friendship, and it would make his music career much harder.

you and wil had tried to figure out a way to address the rumors, how to let everyone know that the two of you were simply friends.

and today was the day that you were going to do it.

“ready?” wilbur asked, looking at you with stress. he had his mouse on the “start stream” button, and about 13,000 people were waiting. the title of the stream was “discussing drama”, which definitely drew more in.

you sucked in a breath, overwhelming nerves stressing you out. “yeah, i guess so.” you mumbled, watching him hit the “start stream” icon.

“hey guys!” wilbur greeted, waving at the chat, who were all spamming “HI” and “HELLOS!” you waved idly at the fans, giving them a small smile.

“hi.” you quietly spoke, glancing at the two of you on stream viewer.

“Okay, first things first, let’s get down to business. we need to address some rumors.” wilbur said, face turning serious. “we’ve seen the tweets and stuff about us being together.”

there was a small moment of silence, letting everything set in.

“yeah, and, here’s what we have to say.” you continued. “we aren’t together. we don’t really want to be. it would mess up our friendship, and it could hypothetically get in the way of our work.”

another moment of silence. chat was being productive, spamming “YESS” and “I TOLD YOU FUCKERS!”

you laughed at some of the comments, glancing at wil, who was being really, suspiciously quiet. “Have anything to add, soot?” you asked, trying to get words out of him.

“no, i thing you covered it pretty clearly.” he said, a hint of harshness in his tone.

a extra long moment of silence. chat was now quiet, “…” filling up the void of space left for chatters.

“i think that’s all.” wilbur said, waving goodbye and ending the stream.

“what the fuck?” you asked.

“what?”

“i dunno, wil, you seemed pissed off when i said ‘we aren’t together.’!”

a moment of silence. a long one, at that.

“oh, i don’t know, maybe it’s because you added “we don’t want to be together.’.” he spoke harshly.

“i didn’t know we wanted to be, wilbur! why are you so fucking mad? your the one who brought up the idea!” you responded.

“jesus, yn. how do you not understand? i never fucking said i didn’t want to be with you. ever.” he yelled.

“so you do?”

“maybe! i don’t fucking know. you made it sound like we would never get together!”

“that’s cause we CANT!”

“WHY?! you say would ruin shit, but i don’t fucking care! just admit it, yn. you would’ve never date me.”

“FINE!” you said, grabbing your keys. “I would never fucking date you.”

you stormed out of the house, fuming. why was he so fucking self centered? did he not fucking understand that you didn’t want to be with him? because everyone would go crazy? did he not see how people would react?

you huffed as you sat down, opening your phone to see a single message from wilbur.

wil: fuck you.

let’s just say, neither of you slept that night.

—

an: hi bitches! i’m sorry this was very dramatic lol! ily you all sm 🤟

#wilbur #dsmp #wilbur soot fluff #sbi x reader #wilbur soot #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur x reader #wilbur fanart #qsmp wilbur #wilbut soot #wilbur mcyt #dream smp #tommyinnit #tommyinnit x reader #las nevadas #meme #lol #okay bye

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mapileonxputellas · 1 year

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Jealousy (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

I think this might have been my favourite one so far! I hope the ending was suitable, I hate writing things in the future, I just feel like I'm pre-empting things so I couldn't include the final. Request can be found here. 4.7k words. Quite a long one!

Leaving Lyon was a tough decision to make. You were captain there for just over three years and more importantly they were your family. But you’d won all there was to win at the club and when Barcelona came with an offer it felt like fate was calling you.

You were billed as the star signing, the one who could fill the void by their own captain’s absence. You never wanted to be labelled as this replacement for Alexia, though you both played in the same position you were very different players. When news of her injury reached you during the Euro’s you couldn’t help but feel gutted you wouldn’t get to play alongside her.

The previous season has been kind to you, finishing the club season with a Champions League medal and going on to win the Euro’s, but as soon as you stepped foot into the Barcelona training centre you couldn’t help but feel different, in some ways complete. Thankfully the players were all very professional and only a few joking comments were made about your goal against Barcelona in the Champions League final.

You weren’t expecting to get the captain’s armband but Alexia’s absence as well as a few niggling injuries left you with the armband and your leadership was undeniable by the coaching staff.

Alexia herself had been a mystery to you, you’d seen her around the facility and at a few games but you never had the chance to speak to her.

But today that would change as today you were informed would be her first day back in group training, she had a long way to go to be back playing but you knew how big a step this was. Just over four years ago you had been subject to those three little letters, three letters which changed your life. You were excited for Alexia, the recovery process was so long and you were determined to make her first session back a good one.

You arrived at the training ground hours before anyone else was meant to be there to add some little changes. You bought a little welcome back sign to hang on her locker, sourced her favourite wine and chocolates for her to take home after and got all the girls to sign a card on their way in.

You watched on as she came in to get changed before training, letting all her friends shower her with congratulations as you got changed with Claudia one side of you and Patri the other.

“Have you met Alexia yet?” Claudia asked as you tied your shoelaces.

“No, well not properly. I don’t think being opposing captains counts.”

“She’s lovely, you’ll both get along.” Patri reassured you. “You’re both very similar.”

“I hope so.”

There was never a better time than the present and you waited back at the end as people flooded out to get the chance to speak to her alone and introduce yourself. Only when you locked eyes on her, instead of waiting for you to finish she made her way out of the dressing room.

You always gave people the benefit of the doubt and presumed maybe she thought you weren’t heading out, instead leaving you running after her. “Hey.” You started once you were level with the Spaniard, a single glance sent your way before she carried on walking. “I don’t think we’ve met before, well properly. I’m Y/N.”

“I know.” Ok you weren’t exactly expecting that, her lack of words was cold but her the tone made it all the colder. But sometimes to your downfall you were a painful optimist and maybe she was just having a bad day.

“Erm, how are you feeling? The team really misses you out there, everyone always talks about you and-“

“Listen OK?” She whisper aggressively, her fingers reaching out to grip your wrist. “I don’t need you to give me a debrief about my own team. I know them more than you ever will and things will change now.”

“Alexia I-“

“Stay out of my way and I’ll stay out of yours.”

It shocked you how much her words hurt. You dealt with anger all the time on the pitch, getting equally angry when defending your team but this felt different. This felt like a personal attack.

You tried to hide the hurt in your face as you reached the rest of the group in the gym, all stood in a circle waiting for their captain.

“I want to say a few words.” Jona said as you stood between Alexia and Ana. “Ale we can’t wait to have you back in the team. You’ve worked so hard up until now, one final push and you’ll be back out there in no time. Let’s finish this season strongly, I want a medal around all our necks at the end of the season.”

“We’ve captured the enemy now, of course we will.” Ana teased wrapping her arm around your shoulder. “The final piece of the puzzle.”

You stole a glance at the woman beside you and almost cowered back at cold eyes watching you and Ana. You tried to give her a reassuring smile as the rest of the group started chanting her name but that didn’t stop the frown on her face. When Jona brought out the presents you had bought on behalf of the group with the signed card you couldn’t help but notice you was the only one she didn’t thank, the only one who didn’t receive a hug. Not even a glance when you heard her asking Sandra about it.

“Oh Y/N sorted it out, she likes organising things like that.” Sandra commented not noticing the anger growing on Alexia’ face.

“Oh really.”

“Yeah that’s why she’s a leader.” The look that comment made could have turned you into stone.

One thing was for sure, this was definitely the biggest hurdle you’d encountered in Barcelona.

…..

The following day was the first time you got to witness the full La Reina effect on the pitch. But from minute one it felt like she was going out of her way to make your day horrible.

When you walked into the canteen that morning and lined up alongside her you hoped maybe yesterday had just been a bad day for her however as you found the frown on her face you knew that was not the case.

But whatever was going on you weren’t going to rise to her level and gave her the smile people often described as charming. “Alexia how are you this morning?”

“Fine.”

Wow the chat was scintillating. “I’m glad there’s one apple left I can’t start my day without one.” You said noticing the one apple left as you firstly got your scrambled eggs on toast. “What about you? Any traditions?”

“No.”

It shouldn’t have really been a surprise to you when you got to the end of the breakfast bar and found the fruit bowl lacking any apples and it really shouldn’t have surprised you when you turned around and found one sat on the tray in front of Alexia, a smirk on her face as she sat down.

“Ale I thought you never had an apple in the morning?” Jana questioned. “You never start the day without an orange.”

“It’s always worth a change.” Of course it was, not at all because of the comment you’d made.

“No apple this morning?” Claudia questioned when you sat down, the smirk only growing on Alexia’s face as she looked up at you.

“No there were none left.”

“Here have mine.” Frido pushed hers down the table, being received with a thankful smile from you. “Can’t have our little superstar without her favourite breakfast.” If looks could kill…..

It didn’t stop there.

During just the warm-up of the training session it felt like she was everywhere. The occasional shoulder barge into your side during the drills, the little nicks under your feet during the rondos, you were half surprised she hadn’t two footed you during the five-a-side match.

“Do you think it will be weird playing against Vicky?” Bruna asked Alexia during the water break referencing the former Barcelona captain now playing for Roma who you’d just been drawn against for the Champions League.

“It will be weird but you should all be confident. There’s no-one left who we shouldn’t believe we can beat. We were unfairly beat in that final but this year is different, none of those players would get anywhere near us when we’re at our best.”

Usually you would assume a comment like that would be made forgetting your link to that team but you knew Alexia’s game and you knew she made that comment directed at you.

“And now with Salma, Lucy, Geyse, Nuria we’re a better team.”

She was being horrible, malicious and it was all directed at you but you had no reason why. You’d been wracking your brains all night trying to find some kind of reasoning for her seemingly hating you. The two of you had never had a run in before, well at least that was memorable enough to have some kind of grudge. The two of you had been up for awards together but she’d always won, including this year’s Ballon d’or but even then on the flight there she must have already had some ill feelings towards you.

“Come on captain.” Vicky came up beside you tugging your arm. “Let’s win this match.”

Football has and probably always will be the out you have for your emotions. Feeling happy: go and pick up a ball. Feeling sad: go and pick up a ball. Right now with the mixture of sadness and anger running through your veins you picked up that ball and gave the small, sided game your all.

You weren’t a malicious player but you got stuck into every tackling, winning most and always being clean and fair.

Maybe that meant it was fair game in her eyes, fair game to give it her all as well. Make sure she left a mark on you, never going so far as to injure you but you knew tomorrow morning you would be covered in bruises from her tight marking on you.

“That was some battle.” Jona wrapped his arms around the pair of you as you walked off the pitch. “I don’t think we can play the both of you at the same time, it just wouldn’t be fair on the opposition.”

“Yeah.” You feigned an agreement knowing how much you wanted to play with Alexia before this all happened, now you weren’t so sure.

“Go and practice your free-kicks.”

The two of you joined Mapi at the far goal posts, Caro and Salma also staying back as the others did some rondos.

It was stupid you’d played in front of millions before, you’d lifted the biggest trophy in club football and yet you’d never felt nerves like practicing free kicks in front of the Queen herself. Thankfully you thrived under pressure and all three balls found their way to the back of the net.

“Way to go princesa.” Mapi found her nickname for you soon after you’d arrived thanks to your healthy addiction to a good beauty treatment. When you weren’t playing football on a Sunday you would more than likely be found in the local spa facilities.

Mapi and Caro made their way over to the corner flag to practice corner kicks leaving the two of you watching Salma line the ball up. “Maybe if you didn’t spend so much time getting ready you could spend some time on your shooting. Any good goalkeeper would have saved all three of them.” Alexia whispered in your ear.

“They were top bins Alexia.”

“Keep telling yourself that. We don’t settle for mediocracy here, remember that.”

“It’s a good thing the manager doesn’t think that. There’s a reason I’ve been sharing the duties with Mapi.”

“You two good?” Salma asked raising her eyebrows at our hushed voices.

“We’re fine thanks.” You assured the young girl. “I was just asking about the plans for travelling tomorrow.”

“Good.”

If she was going to act like this you could take it, you were big enough to deal with someone not liking you. The problem came with the team dynamics, you weren’t about to let some vendetta affect the rest of the team.

“This won’t work if you can’t even look me in the eye.” You whispered as you made your way inside at the end of training. “Whether you like it or not we’re on the same team, when we’re on the pitch forget about it.”

“Fine.”

“Sure?”

“Yes.”

…..

Things didn’t get better, they just got manageable. You grew to ignore the glares, ignore the little comments made, ignore the fact that every morning just in case there was always an apple on her plate and yet it never got touched.

She kept her promise, no matter what she thought of you off the field, which you still hadn’t worked out, it always stopped the moment you stepped foot on the pitch. That didn’t mean you were best friends on the pitch but you could share a few tactical words and miraculously the two of you worked well together.

Maybe it shouldn’t have been as much of a surprise to you, you had spent a lot of time reading her game both for Lyon to play against her and for Barcelona to play with her. You knew all the moves she made, the way she liked to push forward and when she held back. So you adapted your game to suit that, you knew if Barcelona had to choose they would pick her and you knew you could play alongside her with a few subtle changes rather than just you or her. When she would push on you stayed back, when she moved into one area you placed yourself where you knew she liked to lay the ball back.

Today you would be pushing those limits even further as Alexia prepared to make her return in the league. Alexia had admitted herself that Chelsea in the Champion’s League wasn’t the right time to return in a match with so much at stake but today you had the chance to win the league and by half time you were already 1-0 up, Jana soon making it two in the second half.

Jona gave you the decision of when you felt it was comfortable enough to get Alexia back on the pitch and when you got that two-goal cushion you knew you would be able to control the game from here so you made the signal and waited for them to make the change. At this point you were beginning to tire having played 90 minutes just three days prior and now another 65 minutes.

When the board came up with your number on it as well as the number 11 you made your way over to the touchline, unstrapping the band from around your forearm and held it out so Alexia could put her arm through it. Without looking her in the eye you made a point of strapping it up for her and then brought her in for the usual interchange hug before making your way to the bench.

You took your seat on the edge of the bench next to Mapi, the player handing you a water bottle and allowing you to catch your breath.

“Was she alright?” You questioned knowing Alexia was in your seat only a few moments prior.

“She’s ready, bit nervous but she wants to be there for this moment.”

The final 20 minutes went by very quickly Assisat scoring the final goal to seal the league title win. On the final whistle you all made your way onto the pitch, one of your biggest ‘superstitions’ if you would call it that was to always go around and shake all the opponents’ hands before you celebrated any cup or trophy win and this came into that category. You shook all the hands of the Huelva players and their coaching staff before joining your teammates.

Ana was the first one to spot you and the Swiss giant opened her arms up for you to jump into as she twirled you around in the air. “We did it.” You shouted down her ear as you felt further arms wrap around you.

“You did it.” She put you down on the floor and put her hands on your shoulders to meet your eye. “Take a bit of credit, you’re an incredible player.”

“Thanks Ana.”

So far you were thankful no-one had noticed, or at least commented, on a rift between you and Alexia and you weren’t about to let them see it now. You joined the rest of the girls in the traditional celebration for a player returning by throwing them up in the air for three cheers before you all made your way over to the front for the trophy presentation.

“Alexia if you could follow me.” An official came down to guide Alexia up into the stands for the trophy collection. You could see the glances that came your way but in your mind Alexia was always the captain and she should have this moment so you watched on, a smile etched on your face as you saw the joy in her face at lifting the trophy.

“Y/N come on.” Before you had the chance to protest Marta grabbed your hand leading you to the front of the pack as Alexia came down with the trophy.

“This is for you two, you’re the captains.” You tried to get through to Marta as you knew Alexia wouldn’t like this.

“You’ve led this team for the past eight months. You deserve this moment as much as we do.”

You could see there was no room for manoeuvre in her tone and in her face, simply staying put where you were. When Alexia clocked you standing amongst Marta you could see the distain on her face hidden by one of the fakest smiles you’d seen in a long time. You allowed yourself this moment, tucking into one side of Alexia and wrapping your hand around the metal trophy to lift it together as one.

“You two deserve this.” Marta whispered wrapping you both in a hug and pressing a kiss to both of your foreheads. “This team wouldn’t work without the both of you.”

“I don’t think-“

“It’s true, everyone thinks it. We all love you both.”

“Thank you.”

……

After the league win it was fair to say both you and Alexia were observers of the main celebrations, both of you knowing that the Champions League was the main aim this season. You both drove the standards in training knowing what a stern task Wolfsburg would be. The games leading up to the final all had major rotation so Alexia and yourself were yet to play more than twenty minutes in the dying embers of the game together, the captaincy always with Alexia.

The day before the final it was decided both you and Alexia would be part of the pre-match press conference in Eindhoven taking your placed behind the podium with Jonaton.

Jonaton of course covered all the tactic and personnel questions before you were both in the spotlight.

“Y/N it’s hard to believe this is still your first season in Barcelona. How much would it mean for you to lift that trophy tomorrow?”

“Yeah the time has definitely flown by. I came from a team of winners and I’ve joined a team of winners and we won’t settle for anything less than perfection tomorrow. I want more than anything to feel that joy I felt last year.”

“How would you assess your first year? Did you expect to be as integral to the side as you have been both in playing and in your captaincy?”

“It’s been a bit of a crazy year. I have high standards for myself and I hope both the club and fans can see that. I came here because I believed I could add something to the team and I hope they can see what I bring to the plate. In terms of the captaincy that is simply a role I have been sharing with many members of the team even if I sometimes have the armband. Alexia may not have been on the pitch for a long time this season but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t have the leadership in training and before matches.”

“We’ve yet to see much of you two together on the pitch. Does that excite you?”

“Of course, I’ve watched Alexia for a long time now and I hope we can work together on the pitch soon, will that be tomorrow? I guess only Jona knows that.”

“Alexia how much would it mean to you winning the trophy tomorrow after the year you’ve had?”

“Yes it would be very special. I’ve worked hard behind the scenes but more importantly this team has got us to this point and I hope I can be a part of the final push tomorrow.”

“You’ve probably watched a lot of this team over that past 12 months. How have you improved since last year?”

“That final taught us a lot about ourselves and of course the improvements we have to make both in terms of our play but also our mindset. Of course we improved in personnel, Y/N has been a massive part of that and answering a previous question I can’t wait to play with her.”

Wow, you weren’t quite sure if she was being fully truthful or if this was all a show but it had to be worth something, right?

Unbeknownst to the two of you, the rest of the team were watching the interview in the other room. A light murmur of chatter amongst everyone as they watched the two people they considered their captains complimenting each other.

“Have you ever noticed that weird tension between those two? I’ve never really seen them talk but they just work on the pitch, they’re different when they’re playing together.” Ingrid asked Mapi, the two of them sat on one of the beanbags. “Is it just sexual tension that neither of them will give into?”

“How can you miss it? I’ve tried asking Alexia about it but she just dismisses it. Maybe they’re hiding something, I’ve never even seen them interact more than a glare at each other.”

“Ten euros they’re together by next season.”

“Ten euros they’re together by the world cup.”

…..

Alexia didn’t say a word to you after the conference, the both of you separately making your way up to your rooms. Thankfully the club had given you all single rooms so you didn’t have anyone disturbing you as you tried to work out Alexia. She had been nothing but horrible to you since you first met each other and yet she said all that in the press conference. It just wasn’t adding up.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a quiet knock on your door if you weren’t completely silent you probably wouldn’t have heard it but you did. It was only eight o’clock but you were about to try and get an early night.

Presuming it was one of the younger ones who had forgot something you went to answer the door but instead of seeing Bruna or Jana at the door, your heart started racing when you came face to face with Alexia.

“Hi.” Her whispers were barely audible as your mind spiralled as to what she could be here for. “Can I come in?”

“Of course.” Her voice knocked you out of your daydream as you opened the door wider for Alexia. “Take a seat.”

Alexia sat herself down on the vanity chair as you took a seat on the bed, wondering what was going on with the woman as she started at her hands, picking her fingernails.

“Are you alright?” You questioned breaking the silence.

“I um, I-“ You’d never seen Alexia like this, nervously fumbling over her words and a hesitant look on her face. “I want to apologise before tomorrow.”

You hoped you knew what she was apologising for but you wanted the full clarification. “Apologise about what?”

“When I first found out I’d done my ACL I was worried about how this injury would change me, how I would never be the same after it and how different things would be when I’m gone. When I heard Barcelona were signing you I knew that would jeopardise my place on the squad, I heard everyone talk about what an amazing player you were and of course I knew that myself. Then you got the captaincy armband and it just felt like you were my replacement.”

“Ale-“

“So when I came back I had this almost anger to you that you’d got to be a part of this team, that you’d got to lead them out at Camp Nou and seen those wins. I was jealous, I admit that and I heard someone mention it once that the only way to settle this was for one of us to leave.”

“So you did all this so I would leave?”

“I thought the only way to push you to leave was to be horrible to you. I can’t believe how horrible I was to you when you didn’t deserve any of it. I’m so sorry Y/N, I’ve been waiting for this moment for a few weeks but I can’t go in tomorrow with any tension between us. We’ve got to work together.”

“Thank you, but Ale it was never you or I.” You assured her. “I came on this team to work with you not instead of you. When you came back into training I genuinely just wanted to play with you and then you seemed to be trying to make my life a living hell, it was like you were going out of your way to disrupt my day.”

“I tried to hate you but it’s just impossible, you’ve got this smile that everyone seems to love and you always give everything 100%. Plus the team love you, I’m sick of hearing Jana talk about your dancing or Mapi talking about your tattoos. I want to see that side of you.”

“Hug it out?”

“Come here.” You wrapped your arms around the Spaniard, her own arms coming up around your neck as you settled into the hug.

You could never hate Alexia no matter how much she almost pushed you to it, you could never do it, you knew what injuries could do to people and this was no different. You were sadly just the one who got the rough end of it.

“Do you reckon Jonaton will play us together tomorrow?” You asked separating from the hug, a smile on both of your faces.

“I hope so. I really hope so.”

If it weren’t the night before the final you would have been up till the early hours getting to know Alexia but instead you both went for the early night option, your dedication to the sport the biggest thing you admired about each other.

It wasn’t lost on you the few glances you got the next morning as you both walked into the canteen together laughing and joking about a story Alexia was telling you about Nala. The both of you ignoring them as you sat down, a little comment made about the lack of an apple on Alexia’s plate instead just an orange next to her avocado on toast. “I need you on top form for tonight.” Alexia had commented back.

“You’re seeing that right?” Ingrid whispered to Mapi. “Yesterday they wouldn’t speak two words together and now they’re laughing and joking like this.”

“Loud and clear. Maybe now we can see the true La Reina and Princesa on the pitch together.”

#alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso imagines #woso #espwnt x reader #espwnt imagine #espwnt #barcelona femeni imagine #barcelona femeni

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kuroosdarling · 2 years

Text

𝕽𝖔𝖔𝖒 𝟐: 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕶𝖎𝖑𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝕱𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖗

⌈✘⌋- Starring: Ghostface!Suna

⌈✘⌋- cw: MDNI !! knife play (the knife is plastic tho-), mask kink, slight choking, dacryphilia, face-fucking, degradation, unprotected sex, slight exhibitionism, threesome hehe

⌈✘⌋- summary: enter the killing floor and try to escape ghostface. although be weary, as there’s a rumor that he’s not the only killer on the loose.

kinktober m.list

Through the door led to the next room; The Killing Floor. It was semi-molded after the house set in the last scene of the movie, where Billy Loomis and Stu Macher met their vicious end. The house was an unorchestrated maze, winding hallways and sharp turns; really trying to play up the overall unsettling theme. There were so many spots where someone could easily hide – watching you as you navigate your way through. Every so often, the lights would flicker off, the only source of light coming from the faux lightning that would strike every so often.

The light flickers out again as you walk through the house right after you see something flash by in the corner of your eye. Against your better judgment, you continue onward, chalking it up to a figment of your imagination. There were flickering lights, so of course you’d see something that wasn’t really there, right?

You pass by a few closed doors in the narrow hall and swear you see someone at the dark end of the room. It spooked you more than you anticipated as you bolted to the main room; the kitchen. The kitchen was just like it was in the movie, completed with the small island counter in the center of the room. How much did they put into this production?

There was no telling where the next door was. It might’ve been somewhere along the way to the kitchen, but you felt like this is where you had to go next. The silence in the room was deafening, the only thing that could possibly ground you was your ever beating heart filling up your ears with a buzz of excitement. You knew you should be dreading this, but adrenaline coursed through your veins.

A dark shadow whizzed around ahead of you, causing you to stop in your tracks. A distant ring of the phone pierce through your ears, sending a cold chill up your spine. There was no telling where the phone was coming from, it sounded like multiple were going off just to fill your head with its constant piercing ring.

The moment the phones silence themselves, a gloved hand slams into the wall, effectively blocking you from going anywhere.

“Not so fast, princess. I wanted to ask you what your favorite scary movie was.” A distorted voice calls out. Your eyes trailed from the dark glove up his arm to the white mask that covered his face. He takes a step closer, a cold piece of plastic touches your face, causing you to jolt away from it. “Scared of a little knife? That’s cute.”

All words escape you as you stare wide eyed at the masked assailant. Terror coated the tip of your tongue as you hastily gulp it down, letting curiosity fill its void. Ghostface tilts his head to the side and you could practically feel his eyes trailing all over you, taking every piece of you in as he has you pinned down with his knife.

“Not one of many words, huh?” The hand that was on the wall moved to push your shoulder against the hard surface, locking you further into place. “And here I was hoping I'd hear a pretty scream from those lips of yours.”

“You don’t scare me.” You whisper, looking up at the hooded figure as your newfound courage takes hold. If he wanted to play with you, then game on. “So do your worst.”

“Oh we’ve got a brave one, huh?” Before you could ponder too much on the “we” part of that sentence, his hand trails down to your exposed thigh, the cold leather smoothly gliding against your skin, sending chills down your back. “I think I'm going to have a lot of fun with you, ‘almost don’t wanna share.”

His hand roughly grips your thigh, causing you to yelp out in surprise. The knife slowly trails from its spot on your face down your neck, pivoting forwards to slot itself in between your breasts; the plastic moving in motion with the beat of your pacing heart.

Every slow, small touch sets your body on fire. Even the plastic gliding against you felt more intimate than it should’ve. The fact that he hadn’t given you any skin on skin contact or even a hint on who he was had your mind reeling. But you don’t want him to know that just yet.

“I bet a little slut like you is already wet, hm?” He asks, the distorted voice crackling under the mask. The urge to rip off the mask only grew stronger; anything to try and put this guy in his place. But at the same time, the other part of you let him keep it on. The mysterious vibe only makes everything hotter. The knife shot back up towards your neck, under your chin to prop it up towards him. “I think I asked you a question.”

“Yeah I heard. Why don’t you find out yourself? Unless you can’t handle it.” You bite back, a grin spreading across your face. The room spins as you’re twirled around to face the wall. The knife that was under your chin slipped down your back instead, pinching the exposed skin.

“Such a little brat, huh? That damn mouth of yours is gonna get you in trouble, y’know.” A low chuckle hums behind you, free of any distortion. Was the mask off? You go to turn your head but he’s quicker, keeping you facing the wall by lightly pushing down on the back of your head. You clench your thighs together at the way he was speaking to you, his voice crystal clear and so sure of itself. He dipped his head down towards your neck to put his lips right by your ear “I don’t think so, princess. You don’t have the right to see my face just yet.”

He gently kisses your ear before placing small kisses down your neck, slightly humming along to one of the spooky songs that was playing earlier. It’s a direct juxtaposition to how he’s treating you, and it only makes your head dizzier. He's paying close attention to you, keeping track of every reaction he can pull from you.

He finally finds the spot that makes you weak in your knees, and attacks at full force. He sucks a deep mark into the small crevice between your neck and your collarbone. Your fingers weave into your skirt, using it as leverage to ground yourself. A small, traitorous moan slips past your lips, fueling his power as he continues to nip at your neck. Your control was slipping and you were falling into his trap.

“Just yet? So you mean you’ll eventually cave? And here I thought you were supposed to be scary.” You barely manage to breathe out, caught up in the web of pleasure he was spinning you in.

Suddenly, he stops all his ministrations, letting you turn around. You’re face to face with the mask again, but the tension was much thicker than before. You try to swallow a gulp but it’s too obvious as his head tilts slightly to the side.

“Ooh, I see how you want to play.” he said, taking a small step back to lurk into the shadows, his hand gesturing towards a dark hallway. “Why don’t you head on to the next room, I think it’ll be more fun that way.”

Before you could argue, he was gone. The spooky theme abruptly starts back up, signaling that it was time to keep it moving. Disappointment that hit your gut as you made your way back down the hallway. Laughter filled the room, echoing around the small walls. He’s probably onto the next ‘victim’ so you start to scurry off towards the door.

You’re not even sure where it is, but he had pointed this way so you follow along to the dark hallway. A figure dodges around in front of you, slinking around corners while your heart pumps faster and faster. It wasn’t hard to tell that the hallway loops back into the kitchen. He had led you to a dead end.

Not even a few steps later, he grabs you again, pining you harshly against another wall. Your heart leapt into your throat, almost choking back the words you desperately wanted to say. But spite always carried through, effectively stopping yourself from getting too carried away about being back in his welcome, cold embrace.

“Oh? back for more?” You tease, almost excited you were getting your way.

He’s silent as he steps closer, unequipped with any words to bite back with. Nerves dance around in your system as the silence unwillingly drags on. The back and forth you guys had earlier made it more fun, but this was on a whole new level. You’re not sure how to navigate him when he easily dodges your bait.

“He’s just figuring you out. Told him we had a brat on our hands.” All the blood in your body turns cold as you see another ghostface, the one you previously met, walk up behind him. “He loves dealing with brats so I figured I'd let him get a good look.”

The second ghostface’s mask fixates on you, not saying anything as he takes you in.

“‘Think someone is a little nervous now.” he laughs lowly. “C’mon Samu, let’s take off the mask and have some fun.”

The first ghostface came closer, taking off his mask and resting his chin on the ‘Samu’s’ shoulder. He let out a slow chuckle as Samu follows suit and slowly removes his mask, throwing it behind him and matching the same small, sinister smile the other wore on his face. The two almost look crazed, wild with the thought of ruining you. Something in his eyes told you that there was no going back now — not that you really minded.

The first thing you zeroed on was his deep set green eyes. Your eyes trail along his face, soaking in all of his beauty. The cheshire grin on his face was taunting you, anticipating your next move before you even had it figured out. It’s unsettling. Especially when the other ghostface’s mask was off now too. His cold, piercing stare has you in his hold. The silver tint that took up his hair caught your eye for a brief moment, before you felt the cool plastic rest on your face.

“Suna, ya didn’t tell me how pretty she was.” He smirks, slightly shifting his gaze to Suna before it lands back onto you. “I thought ya said she had a mouth on her?”

“She did.” He said while placing delicate kisses along Osamu’s neck, taunting you as Osamu trailed the cold, plastic knife down your face.

The two were a part of some dance that you didn't know the choreography for. All you could do was try to follow in their footsteps, but it was proving to be impossible to keep up with. Suna’s all one for games, his green eyes sparking to life as he watches you struggle to find any words you could use to bite back. Osamu was more calculating, keeping an eye on your every move as if it was giving away all of your deepest desires, weaving itself around his finger so he could have you right where he wanted you. And together; they were dangerous.

——

Your hips dug against the edge of the small island in the kitchen while your hands desperately held onto the other side of it. Suna was relentless, his grip on your hips undeniably tight, pushing you further against the island as leverage to fit every last inch inside of you. Osamu was lurking around somewhere but you couldn’t string together any thought to check where he was.

His long cock pushes through your entrance, getting deeper and deeper with each thrust of his hips. The stretch alone was incredible but Suna knew how to pivot his hips just right for you to be seeing stars.

“Shit-“ Suna said under his breath, gripping your ass cheeks even harder, slightly pulling them apart; mesmerized by the sight of his cock sliding in and out of your slick folds. Part of you wanted to be embarrassed at the sudden exposure but your mind instantly forgot about it the moment Osamu came into view.

His mask was back on, the fabric from it loosely flowing onto his bare chest. The faint lighting that the room provided showed the perspiration dripping off of him – enhancing the twin barbells delicately placed on his chest before a bead of sweat slowly slid down towards his abs. It was almost a shame that he was standing far away. There was no way you could lick the sweat off of him and wrap your lips around his pretty tits from this distance.

Osamu was the sweetest sin you had ever seen in your life, all you wanted to do was please him – show him that you were good and treat him the way he deserved to be treated. He steps closer into view, slowly unzipping his jeans and moving them down just enough so he could slip out his hard, aching cock.

He taps his thick length against your cheek, the precum coating your face as it slides along your cheek as your body jolts forward from the pace Suna was setting.

“Go on, now. Be a good girl.” Osamu said, his tone taunting you as you look up at him through your lashes. Before you could take him into your mouth, Suna thrusts into you harshly, hitting a spot so deliciously sweet that you fall into the island, letting out a long, drawn out moan as he continues to hit the spot.

“Yeah? — Right there, princess? Looks like it feels real good.” Suna said, smacking your ass. Your head hung down, taking in every thrust Suna gave you. “Don’t you think you should make Samu feel just as good?”

Without any hesitation, you wrap a delicate hand around Osamu’s cock, causing him to hiss out at the contact. Once you start rocking back against Suna in an attempt to control some of the pace, you take Osamu’s oozing tip in your mouth. Your tongue brushes on the underside of his cock as you slowly pull him back out of your mouth with a pop, letting his slightly salty taste fill your senses.

“Want ya to suck me off till ya cry, doll” Osamu purrs, slowly pushing further down your throat as you try to control your gag reflex. Before you could get used to him, he pulls back again, smearing his tip over your lips before driving his cock right back in. Tears begin to collect along your lashes, threatening to fall any second as you try to keep up with him. But it was worth it, each time he’d dip back into your warm throat, it would pull the deepest groans from him, making you moan against his length.

“You’re taking us so well, we just might have to keep you around.” Suna lets slip as he roughly slams into you. Each drag of his cock against your warm, wet walls had your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Only if ya can keep up.” Osamu chimes in, relishing in your throat constricting around his cock as you let out a pathetic whine.

With both men thrusting into you, all you could do was hold onto the counter once more. Being filled up on both sides was all consuming. The only thing that floated in your head was how good everything felt; how much you loved being caught up in the middle of them. The sound of their groans paired with skin slapping against skin filled the room was addicting and you only craved more.

“I think someone likes being our little cockslut, isn’t that right, princess?” Suna teases.

With your mouth full of Osamu’s cock, there was no way you could respond correctly. You eagerly nod your head, drawing a chuckle from Osamu as he watches you struggle.

“I think she loves it,” he agrees. “Her little pussy is s’wet I can hear it each time ya fuck into her.”

Each forceful thrust swiftly brought you closer and closer to the edge. Everything starts to tighten up as you bounce back on Suna’s cock.

“Really? Cause all I can hear is her choking on your dick.” He laughs, sounding far more angelic than his devious actions. For emphasis, Osamu thrusts harshly back into your mouth, causing you to gag around him. He lets out another laugh as he resumes his pace.

“Yer right. It’s like she was born for suckin’ ma cock.” Osamu said, his accent growing thicker as he started to lose the control he carefully built up. It was hard to keep it together when your mouth felt so good around him. Everything was getting too much and he felt his release building up quickly. It only spurred him on more, hips stuttering into your mouth as he chased his high.

Osamu kept pushing your head back down in time with his thrusts, praising you on how heavenly your mouth felt. Tears started to flow down your cheeks but you didn’t care. You could tell he was getting close, judging by the inconsistent, jerky movements. Osamu ripped the mask off of him, hanging his head back to slowly shake out his hair. Most of it stuck to his forehead — beads of sweat trailing down his face. You quickly cup your hands under his balls, fondling them in time while taking him in your mouth. A deep, long groan fell from his lips as his hand grabbed onto your head, shoving himself as far as he could get before cumming down your throat.

He didn’t waste another minute before crouching down, gripping onto your chin as he watched you swallow the rest down. A small, satisfied smirk laced his lips, more than content with your obedience. His lips lightly pressed against yours before he pulled back.

Suna huffed at the sight, deciding he wanted a little more attention. He reached his gloved hand between your thighs, circling your clit in quick, fluid motions. With a few flicks of his wrist, he knew exactly how to unravel you. You tighten around him, earning a small groan from him as your last shred of control starts to crumble.

“Gonna cum for us? hm?” Osamu asked, leaning in so his lips ghost yours once again. You could practically feel them on you, if you just moved a little closer you could get a better taste.

“Yes—“ you whine out. “M’gonna cum, please let me cum.” A string of pleases easily flows from your mouth as you feverishly fuck yourself back onto his cock. Your eyes roll back to your head as you teeter on the edge; your mind tiptoeing the brink of divine, heavenly pleasure.

“Yeah? Ready Princess?” Suna calls out from over you. Something cold dragged down your back before running back up it, eliciting chills all over your body, heightening every nerve as it drew you closer to your release. Osamu peers down at you, taking in the look on your face as if he was assessing something before nodding towards Suna, abruptly letting go of your chin. The knife was long forgotten as Suna yanks your head up by your hair, holding something else in front of your face. “Cum.”

There was a bright flash that left as quickly as it came but you couldn’t tell if that was from the blinding pleasure of reaching your peak or if he actually took a picture. Either way, it had you clamping down on his cock, mewling out as he continued to fuck you through your orgasm.

Suna unceremoniously dropped his hold on you as your head hung back down, attempting to catch your breath. Without Osamu’s cock in your mouth, moans easily slid past your lips, crying out how good you were feeling.

“That’s a good girl.” Osamu said as he smirks at you before his eyes soften slightly. His fingers quickly brushes your face again, caressing it lightly as he murmurs small praises in your ear.

Suna scoffs as he quickly pulls out. The sudden loss fills you with a small relief before crushing disappointment. Feeling this empty didn’t sit right with you, especially since he hadn’t finished yet. As soon as you open your mouth to complain about it, his cock slides down your throat.

“Wanted to see what all the hype was about.” Suna smirks, grabbing onto your hair roughly for leverage. “Now, suck.”

Wasting no time, you took Suna in as deeply as you could, holding his cock in place as he trails the knife along the bulge in your throat.

“Fuck- her mouth does feel good. That’s it—“ He moans, moving his hips forward. You let him use your mouth, drunk on the sounds that were spilling out of his mouth. He looked down at you, mesmerized at how well you could take him. Your hands gripped his hips, pulling him even closer.

“Open your mouth.” he said, taking his cock into his own hands as he swiftly pumped his cock. You open your mouth as wide as you can and stick out your tongue. Suna groaned at the sight before he started to cum. He rested his tip on your tongue as strings of his release shot back into your mouth. You close your lips around his tip, sucking him down more even as he kept cumming. He pulled back shivering from the sensation, panting heavily. “Shit- you and that damn mouth.”

You let out a light laugh as they help you off the counter and get you back on your feet. Suna handed you a small card as Osamu pressed a kiss into your shoulder. The card was a polaroid picture taken at the exact moment you came.

“That’s all yours.” He said, grabbing his mask and getting ready to get dressed again. You step forward and slip the photo back to him.

“Finders keepers.” You purr in his ear, leaving a soft kiss on his earlobe. “Now, care to show me to the next door Mr. Ghostface?”

#⁺. ʚ now streaming:#little darlings kinktober #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #hq x reader #hq smut #suna rintaro x reader #suna x reader #suna smut #suna rintaro smut #suna x you #osamu miya x reader #osamu x reader #osamu smut #osamu miya smut #osamu x you

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littlemissthunderstorms · 6 months

Text

paperwork

tbhc au

soft dom alex x reader

as a ceo of tbhc, work can get stressful. sometimes you just need a distraction! (hint hint being eaten out from under your desk)

———

“5 new engines for the ships. i need them on monday….. what?” you spoke into the receiver. “fine. tuesday. no later than that.” you rolled your eyes, mumbling your routine “goodbyes” and “thank you’s” before you slammed the phone down.

you sighed, leaning your head back in your chair as you gazed out of the floor to ceiling windows that adorned your office. an overwhelming pile of paperwork for new various technological advances crowded your desk, you needed a break. stars shimmered in the void that stretched on and on, sometimes giving you the chills. most times the galactic scene outside of your windows would cure your mind fog, leaving you to admire the vast darkness decorated by swirls and stars.

your thoughtful little daze ended abruptly when the phone on your desk rang out. “tranquility base hotel and casino, how may i help you?”

“yeah this is alex. i have a complaint. why the fuck is there so much paperwork for these goddamn rocket ships?”

you scoffed, kicking your feet up onto the desk. “i don’t know, but i’m exhausted. i think my hair might fall out from all the stress.” you ran your fingers through your hair, head slumping back in your chair again.

alex chuckled from the other line, his laugh forming a soft smile across your lips. “hey, um can i come by your office real quick?” you could practically hear his smirk through the receiver. “sure….we’ve got work do to though so make whatever you’re doing quick.”

without a response, he hung up on you. you put the phone down and resumed filling out the sheets of paper that piled up on your desk.

a few moments later alex gave a quick knock to the door and slid in, closing it behind him. he looked as sleek as ever, navy suit adorning his figure, widows peak prominent with his slicked back hair. his heeled boots clacked on the floor as he made his way over to you.

you looked up, smiling at him with twinkly eyes. the boy planted both hands on the desk and leaned over, kissing you sweetly. you sighed into the kiss, making alex grin like a fool. being the ceo’s of tranquility base, you two had been crammed in your offices for the past week. the only times you were able to see eachother was in your shared suit at night. even then you guys were absolutely exhausted, falling asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow.

the boy made his way over to your side of the desk, spinning your chair around so it faced him. he then knelt down in front of you, face to face due to the low level of your chair. he cupped your face with both hands, kissing you so deeply you had to hold his shoulders for support. the kiss was soon wet and messy, his tongue slid into your desperate mouth, spilling soft moans out of you.

he pulled away slightly, panting as he rested his forehead against yours. “is that what you came for? a couple of kisses?” you smirked. alex leant back, looking you in the eyes. “well that’s part of it.” a mischievous glint flickered across his dark gaze. “i was brainstorming earlier, i know something that might help relieve our stress.”

you tilted your head, quickly catching on after a few moments. “alex….” he looked at you pleadingly, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “stress lowers your life span, seriously, it’s not healthy.” you rolled your eyes, hitting his chest playfully. “what if someone walks in?” “i’ll lock the door.” he replied. “what if someone hears?” you bit your lip. “they can’t do anything about it, we own this place.” he twirled a loose strand of your hair around his finger, bringing his hand up to squish your cheeks.

you blushed ferociously. “fine.” you chuckled, starting to get up out of your chair when alex pushed you back down. you looked up at him, confused. “stay right there love.” he pushed your chair back in so your arms rested on the desk and made his way over to the door, locking it and making his way to the side of the desk opposite from you.

“what are you doing?” you questioned. the boy flashed you a smirk and muttered a sweet “just relax” before he knelt down, crawling under the desk. you soon felt his hands smoothing up your thighs, moving to unbutton your dress pants. once he removed your pants completely, he leaned in, nudging your clothed core with his nose, smirking at the already prominent wet patch of arousal. you gasped, grabbing ahold of the armrests of your chair.

he rested his hands on your thighs, pressing open mouthed, wet kisses to the part of your underwear that was soaked through. you moaned softly, helping him as he slid your panties off. once they were discarded, alex pressed languid kisses to the insides of your thighs, occasionally leaving a little bite and soothing it with his tongue.

he groaned, watching as arousal soaked your throbbing clit. you slid your chair back slightly, positioning yourself in a way where you were able to see him. “fuck alex…. don’t tease me.” you whispered, panting softly. the boy looked up at you with glittery eyes that seemed to reflect the pools of stars that shimmered outside, planting a kiss to the top of your thigh as he admired how gorgeous you looked with your cheeks all flushed for him.

“shh shh pretty girl, how bout’ you keep filling out that paperwork yeah? s’ not gonna do itself.” he cooed, rubbing his hand up and down your calf. you gulped and nodded as you picked up your pen, trying to focus as best as you could on the papers.

your handwriting stuttered when alex blew on your clit, eliciting a soft whimper from your lips. alex loved teasing you, the little moans that would escape from your lips when he’d run his tip along your folds. or the way you’d wriggle your hips while he kitten licked at your pussy, craving more. but now, he couldn’t hold back. he was practically drooling, needing to taste you.

alex licked a stripe up your clit, causing you to gasp and bite your lip, putting a death grip on the pen. he continued to eat you out, his nose coated in arousal as he darted his tongue in and out of your dripping hole. you moaned quite loudly at the action, moving to wrap your leg over his back, his face nuzzling deeper into your pussy.

you flipped over to the next paper, trying your best to fill it out and be good for him, doing what he said. alex suckled your clit into his mouth, his pace getting faster as his warm wet mouth glided over your heat. you moaned again, gripping the desk with one hand.

putting the pen down, your eyes squeezed shut, your whimpers only escalating. alex noticed this and stopped his movements. “keep filling out that paperwork, cmon, be a good girl.” you nodded and went to pick up the pen again, trying your best to remember addresses and names in your clouded state of ecstasy.

alex wasn’t making it any easier. the man was ruthless, slobbering all over your pussy as he devoured you. you bit your lip, trying to focus when two long fingers slowly started to pump inside you, his tongue on your clit not ceasing one bit. you yelped, quickly covering your mouth with your hand, trying to sign the bottom of a contract with the other.

your eyes squeezed shut again as his fingers curled inside of you at a speedy pace, your mouth parted in a half moan. the squelching noises coming from under the desk were pornographic, making you impossibly wetter.

already, you could feel the pleasure building up in your lower stomach. opening your eyes a bit, you realized you’d drooled on some of the paper, smudging some of the ink. you couldn’t care less. you threw your head back as alex’s mouth moved against a particular spot that only brought you closer to fireworks, his fingers hitting your g-spot over and over again.

“oh fuck alex, right there.” you practically screamed, tears dropping down your flushed cheeks. alex moaned, sending vibrations into your clit as he licked and sucked faster, his thick fingers stroking your walls so deliciously. “fuck fuck fuck fuck.” you whispered, bucking your hips into his face as your orgasm ripped through you.

you screamed alex’s name, nails digging into the wooden desk as your heel dug into the boys back. you whimpered and gasped, sobbing alex’s name as your legs shook. the man knew how to give a women a killer orgasm, that was for sure. alex licked up every drop as you came, he didn’t stop until your hips flinched away from his face, wincing at the sensitivity.

alex crawled out from under the desk, his nose and cheeks rosy and damp from your arousal. he stood up, picking you up from your chair and sitting in it instead, placing you on his lap. he kissed your tears, soothingly carding through your hair with his soft hands.

“shh shh, that’s a girl…” he pressed a tender kiss to your lips. “you did so good.. my perfect girl.” your stomach fluttered at his words, mind starting to de-fog from your insane high.

alex sat you up so you were straddling him, feeling his erection against your bare clit.

“think you can take one more for me honey?”

———

hope you enjoyedd!! might make a part two sometime

taglist: @ultragirrl @inmyownfantasywrld @almluv @raven-ql @ohladymoon @yourstartreatment @missbabyjay @andulina567

(let me know if you’d like to be added/removed)

#alex turner #alex turner x reader #arctic monkeys #humbug #alex turner fluff #alex turner one shot #tlsp #suck it and see #alex turner smut #tranquility base hotel and casino

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padawanlost · 11 days

Text

Anakin's nightmare

“Do you know where [Shmi] is?” “Why, I should expect she’s at Watto’s junkshop. I’m afraid he’s had her doing quite a lot of work there, ever since you ran away.”

Anakin winced. “But I didn’t run away,” he said. “I left. To become a Jedi.”

“Oh, of course you did, sir,” said C-3PO, his voice filled with good cheer. “I never meant to suggest that you abandoned any responsibilities you might have had here, when you were just a child. After all, we’re so very proud of you and your achievements. Not that we actually know about what you’ve accomplished in the past nine years, since we’ve never received any messages from you, but I do get the distinct impression that your mother still cares very much about you. And she does have a vivid imagination, so she very easily assumed that you must be…”

The droid was still talking as Anakin ran out of the hovel and into the broiling radiance of Tatooine’s twin suns. Although it appeared to be afternoon, when the city of Mos Espa should have been teeming with street vendors and pedestrians, there was no sign of life.

Anakin felt a sense of panic. He ran as fast as he could through the empty streets until he arrived outside the tall, bell-shaped structure that was Watto’s junkshop.

Like his own hovel, the junkshop appeared to be exactly as Anakin remembered it. Yet when he ducked through the shop’s entrance portal and entered the cluttered interior, he found that Watto had added something new: In front of a workbench, there was a low cage with thick metal bars.

A filthy figure, clothed in dirty rags, was huddled within the cage.

It was Shmi Skywalker. Anakin’s mother.

She looked up at him with fear in her eyes. “Who are you?” she asked. Her voice sounded old and tired.

“It’s me, Mom,” Anakin said, dropping to his knees before the cage. “Anakin. Annie. I’m grown up now. I’ve come to rescue you.”

“Anakin?” Shmi said in disbelief. She slowly shook her head. “But you can’t be. You can’t be here. You’re gone.”

“I’ll get you out, Mom,” Anakin said as he gripped the bars. He looked around. There was no sign of Watto.

“It is you,” Shmi said. “It really is you.”

Anakin tugged at the bars with all his might, but they would not yield. Then he remembered he was a Jedi. He could do anything!

He reached to his belt, expecting to find his lightsaber, but his fingers slapped against his side. His lightsaber was gone. He tried to recall if he had clipped it to his belt before leaving his hovel, or if he had even brought it with him to Tatooine.

He tried to remember when and where he had seen it last. He felt confused. How had he arrived back on Tatooine? He could not remember.

Desperate, he glanced at Watto’s tool shelf and saw a fusion-cutter and power pry-bar. He grabbed for them, but he could not pick them up. He tried again, tearing at them, but the tools would not budge. It seemed they had been welded to the shelf.

Anakin collapsed beside the cage, his head smacking against the bars. “I swear, I’ll get you out!” he sobbed.

Shmi reached between the bars and pushed her oil-stained fingers through her son’s blond hair. “Oh, Annie,” she said. “Don’t cry. Please, don’t cry. I’m fine. Really, I’m fine.”

“Mom, look at you! Watto left you in a cage!” Anakin said, outraged.

“No, he didn’t, Annie,” Shmi said sadly. “Watto didn’t leave me. You did.”

Suddenly, Shmi, the junkshop, and all of Tatooine were swept away from Anakin’s vision, and he was engulfed in darkness. It wrapped around him like a cold, black shroud that cut him off from the entire galaxy.

Unable to see, his only awareness was of the steady rise and fall of his own breathing.

Something was wrong.

The breathing sounded mechanical and labored, as if it were being done through some kind of respirator. Anakin wondered if the breathing were his own, or if he had been mistaken about the sound’s origin. Perhaps, he thought, I’m not alone in this dark place. He held his breath and listened to the void. The sound of mechanized breathing stopped. And then Anakin felt his throat constricting.

The darkness coiled even tighter around him, working its way through his skin, seizing his lungs and veins and muscles and bones until he knew it was about to consume him.

Then the dream ended as it always did, with Anakin trying to shout but fearing that no one, not even he, would ever hear his cry. And then he awoke. [Ryder Windham. Star Wars Adventures - The Hostage Princess]

#anakin skywalker #shmi skywalker #watto #c3po #sw books #sw quotes #Ryder Windham #mine #padawanlost

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miguel-ohara-lover · 7 months

Text

Miguel x Spider-Woman W/ a Baby Pt.2

Part one

Tbh I don’t really know how to continue this but I tried haha

CW: Fluff, dad!Mig, reader has a baby, slight angst cuz of Gabi

It had been a few weeks since that little date you and Miguel went on. He had started encouraging you to bring Alice around more often. He loved seeing your little girl, loved watching over her and taking care of her.

She would never fill the void in his heart that Gabi left behind. Even so… he loved her dearly, as if she were his own. Seeing his smile, his eyes light up when he saw her, it made you happy. You hadn’t felt this love since your ex, Alice’s father.

You didn’t dare confess to Miguel, not until after the third date. Or was this the fourth… you started to lose count, time flying by when you’re with him. Your little girl had started growing bigger, and before you knew it you were celebrating her first birthday with Miguel.

It was a surprised when she started saying mama, a welcomed surprise. You teared up when you heard the adorable babble, immediately bringing her to Miguel excitedly. You wanted to show off her new found speaking skills.

It was an even bigger surprise when she looked up at Miguel with those adorable eyes and babbled something like dada. You both thought it was just nonsense, until her tiny hands reached up to him as she babbles more ‘dada dada!’

He was frozen, and you were confused. You had no idea where she heard this from, and concluded it had to be from Mayday calling Peter that. Miguel didn’t know what to do, he hadn’t been called dad in any form since Gabriella…

The sudden weight and pressure of fatherhood laid heavy on his shoulders once again. Yeah, he wasn’t Alice’s father, but the second she said dada to him… he felt all those paternal instincts fill him. It scared him, after his daughter he didn’t know if he would be good enough.

You saw the pain and worry in his eyes. Your heart sank, knowing exactly why he felt this way, and you placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Miguel…” You started. “I’m sorry if it’s too soon. I understand, and I have no idea where she learned that. I’m really so-”

“It’s okay. Really.” Miguel stopped your apology. “Really…” His voice became quieter, and your hand moved up to cup his cheek. He leaned into your touch. “She can call me that.” He have you a gentle smile.

You smiled back and nodded. “Okay, Mig. I’m so happy she has you in her life.” You felt Miguel’s cheeks warm up as a blush spread across his face. “What is it?”

“Nothing… just admiring Alice’s mami.” Now it was your turn to blush, and he couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “We’ve been spending so much time together… and I’ve grown to love Alice as if she were my own.”

You looked into his eyes as he spoke, listening to his words intently. His sentences are broken only by Alice’s adorable babbles that caught both your attentions. Miguel took a deep breath, taking Alice into his arms like just her presence was calming to him.

“I think I’ve started to fall for you… you’re so beautiful, so kind and you’re an amazing mother. I could go on…” He paused. “If you think it is too soon I-”

“I feel the same.” You cut him off.

He stood there silently for a moment, shocked by this confession. Without another word he leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on your lips. He was so tender and soft, so different from how he was with every other spider person. Only you got to see this side of him, no one else.

It wasn’t long before the society caught on to the new relationship, since you two were always together, or if you weren’t around Miguel had Alice. Hearing her call Miguel papa or dada was a surprise, especially for Peter. He wouldn’t shut up about it for weeks and that made you laugh the few times you heard it.

Maybe Miguel’s walls are coming down, he won’t ever go back to how he had been before Gabriella, but you were helping a lot. And he loved you so much.

———

@lewispool @meeom @deputy-videogamer @aug-ust69 @mythologicalgodsblog @ladyroseishere @autismsupermusicalassassin @ilovespiderman15 @justleavemealoneyeah @maryxlx01x @l3laze @drheinzd @saturnknows @cherrycosmos392 @oxrchd @number1gal @spikedhe4rt @oscarissac2099 @freehentai @obsessed-with-miguels-ass

#miguel o'hara #across the spiderverse #atsv #atsv miguel #miguel o’hara x reader

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captain-hen · 26 days

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the ‘sunshine personified’ / ‘he makes everyone around him happy’ thing is sooo interesting because i don’t think we’ve really seen that from buck, have we? and by that i specifically mean in the fanon context of buck being the social PTA dad at all of chris’s school functions while eddie broods in the corner and only wants to talk to buck. if anything, we’ve seen the opposite behavior with eddie — he’s clearly good friends with chris’s friends’ parents, he was so happy and glowy when he first met the 118, he befriended may and linda so easily at dispatch, and i could go on and on.

he just seems to connect with people so easily, and i think a lot of that genuine friendliness is lost on people because he also has a tendency to get casually snarky with people he isn’t so fond of, whether it’s annoying temporary coworkers or selfish people on calls or opportunistic reporters. the same thing goes for his private nature vs. buck’s bleeding heart — it’s assumed that eddie isn’t a people person because he likes to keep his innermost feelings close to his chest and it’s also assumed that buck is good at instantly forming connections bc his feelings spill out of him at all times.

and like. it’s not that buck isn’t a kind and friendly person, but i do feel like his specialty is deep acts of love for the people he loves. idk if i’m articulating this right but i’m trying to point out that he’s never more ‘sunshine personified’ than when he’s with the 118 and co. he would do anything for them and he lights up around them in a way that he doesn’t really do with anyone else. and we haven’t seen him be so casually close to people outside that friend group.

when we got a glimpse of connor and buck’s friendship, it seemed more about what they could do for each other than about true connection. when we got that episode about buck and red, a lot of it was projection on buck’s part re. his fear of abandonment and his desire not to let his future turn out like red’s and it was also about his need to fix things for everyone else so he can feel like he’s needed. when he met lucy, he was desperate to fill a void and not feel as hollow as he felt going home to taylor kelly every night with his sister and his brother in law and his partner gone.

don’t get me wrong, i’m not trying to ascribe selfish motivations to buck bc i do believe he always tries to do the right thing, but when it comes to people outside of the 118, with the way it’s been written in canon, i feel like those dynamics have always been more about his own issues than they’ve been about actual friendship. and this isn’t even getting into how he acts when he feels like someone new is encroaching on his territory (see: eddie in 2x01 and lena). idk….i just think that kind of casual connection comes so much easier to eddie for whatever reason. maybe it’s because his abandonment issues are a whole other flavor, or because eddie’s upbringing was so different from buck’s. either way, it’s so interesting and ppl blinded by fanon are really missing out. i apologize for the long ass rambling and i don’t think i really articulated this well, so TL;DR — fanon sunshine buck and broody eddie do not exist in canon and i’m Very excited to see the way that mr. possessive, jealous, broody evan buckley acts when eddie meets someone new this week :)

no, you're so right about all of this, though! buck genuinely does light up and is at his most comfortable and golden retriever-like around the 118, because he sees them as family and trusts them so much—and i think people get carried away and attribute the same thing to everything else (like, for example, the social PTA dad thing). when in canon, buck on multiple occasions has not dealt with new people too well—whether it was eddie, or lena, or ravi...and now, as it looks like, tommy. and you kinda hit the nail on the head about how most of buck's relationships outside the 118 being very transactional in nature up to this point, it's sad, but it's true.

eddie is the complete opposite in this regard, though, like, the guy goes around collecting new friends like they're pokemon. lol. he is so wildly different to the fandom portrayal of him as this anti-social loner that i struggle with understanding how people even got there in the first place (i mean, i know why. but still).

anyway, buck's issues with jealousy and insecurity are sooo interesting to delve into as character flaws and so much more compelling than fandom's portrayal of him as a perfect angel baby who's never done anything wrong, but 🤷🏽‍♀️🤷🏽‍♀️ at least i have canon giving me the stuff i want lol

#neethu answers #anon

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zvaigzdelasas · 2 months

Text

When Haitian Prime Minister Ariel Henry filled the void left by the assassination of the country’s president in 2021, he did so over the protest of wide segments of the population but with the full-throated support of the Biden administration.

Now, almost three years later, Henry’s grip on power is hanging by a thread, and Washington is confronted by even worse choices as it scrambles to prevent the country’s descent into anarchy.

“They messed it up deeply,” James Foley, a retired career diplomat and former U.S. ambassador to Haiti, said in an interview about the Biden administration’s support for Henry. “They rode this horse to their doom. It’s the fruit of the choices we made.”[...]

Stubborn U.S. support for Henry is largely to blame for the deteriorating situation, said Monique Clesca, a Haitian writer and member of the Montana Group, a coalition of civil, business and political leaders that came together in the wake of Jovenel Moïse ‘s murder to promote a “Haitian-led solution” to the protracted crisis.

The group’s main objective is to replace Henry with an oversight committee made up of nonpolitical technocrats to restore order and pave the way for elections. But so far, Henry, who has repeatedly promised to hold elections, has shown no willingness to yield power.

While in Guyana last week for a meeting of Caribbean leaders, he delayed what would be Haiti’s first vote in a decade yet again, until mid-2025.

“He’s been a magician in terms of his incompetence and inaction,” said Clesca. “And despite it all, the U.S. has stayed with him. They’ve been his biggest enabler.”

By any measure, Haiti’s perennially tenuous governance has gotten far worse since Henry has been in office.[...]

But even as Haiti has plunged deeper into chaos, the U.S. has stood firmly by Henry.

“He is taking difficult steps,” Brian Nichols, assistant secretary of state for Western Hemisphere affairs, said in October 2022, as Haitians poured into the streets to protest the end of fuel subsidies. “Those are actions that we have wanted to see in Haiti for quite some time.”

When demonstrations resumed last month demanding Henry’s resignation, the top U.S. diplomat in Haiti again rushed to his defense.

“Ariel Henry will leave after the elections,” U.S. chargé d’affaires Eric Stromayer told a local radio station.[...]

The Biden administration has defended its approach to Haiti. White House spokeswoman Karine Jean-Pierre, without specifically endorsing Henry, said the U.S. long term goal of stabilizing the country so Haitians can hold elections hasn’t changed.

But in what may be a telling slip that speaks to the neglect Haiti has suffered in Washington of late, Jean-Pierre confused the Haitian president, the country’s top elected official, with the prime minister, who is picked by the president and subject to parliamentary approval.

“It’s the Haitian people — they need to have an opportunity to democratically elect their prime minister,” Jean-Pierre, whose parents fled Haiti, said Wednesday. “That’s what we’re encouraging,” [...] “But we’ve been having these conversations for some time.”

Nichols said he and Secretary of State Antony Blinken spoke with Henry on Thursday and urged him to broaden his political coalition. He said the U.S. would work to speed up the deployment of a multinational security mission to combat the gangs led by Haiti under the auspices of the United Nations but that other countries needed to step up their support in the way the world is working together to address humanitarian needs in Ukraine and Gaza [sic].[...]

The U.S. bears much of the blame for the country’s ills. After French colonizers were violently banished in 1791, the U.S. worked to isolate the country diplomatically and strangle it economically. American leaders feared a newly independent and free Haiti would inspire slave revolts back home. The U.S. did not even officially recognize Haiti until 1862, during the Civil War that abolished American slavery.

Meanwhile, U.S. troops have been an on-and-off presence on the island, dating from the era of “gunboat diplomacy” in the early 20th century when President Woodrow Wilson sent an expeditionary force that would occupy the country for two decades to collect unpaid debts to foreign powers.

The last intervention took place in 2004, when the administration of George W. Bush diverted resources from the war on terrorism in Afghanistan and Iraq to calm the streets following a coup that removed President Jean-Bertrand Aristide.[...]

Foley said the situation is deteriorating so fast that the Biden administration may have no choice [but to send US troops to Haiti]. He’s pushing for a limited troop presence, like the one that in 2004 handed off to U.N. peacekeepers after only six months. Unlike the U.N. peacekeeping mission, which was hastily organized, Kenya has been working for months on a multinational force to combat the gangs.

“I completely understand the deep reluctance in Washington to have U.S. forces on the ground,” Foley said. “But it may prove impossible to prevent a criminal takeover of the state unless a small U.S. security contingent is sent on a temporary basis to create the conditions for international forces to take over.”

But whether yet another U.S. intervention helps stabilize a desperate Haiti, or just adds more fuel to the raging fire, remains an open question. And given the recent American track record, many are doubtful.

“The U.S. for too long has been too present, too meddling,” said Clesca. “It’s time for them to step back.”

7 Mar 24

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kingkatsuki · 2 years

Text

Robots | Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐬 - 𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲.

Kinktober masterlist.

This is my submission to @strawberry-nugget‘s Perfect Girl collab. Please check out the masterlist here! The first part beneath was actually written by her too it’s so so good💕

This entire thing was basically inspired by Alesana - The Artist. It’s completely different from anything I’ve ever tried to write before, and I really hope the dark vibes come through and the flashbacks aren’t too confusing! If its not your cup of tea that’s totally fine, I just really wanted to try and get this down on paper. This was supposed to be such a cyberpunk collab and I made it so dark I’M SORRY!

Summary: Bakugou always loved you, even in death. With cutting edge technologies making it possible to bring people back to life, maybe he wouldn’t have to prepare himself to actually let you go.

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x robot!reader.

Warnings: 18+, italics used as flashbacks, not proofread!, mentioned murder, strangulation, android/robot decapitation, Bakugou is obsessively in love with us, yandere!Bakugou, cheating (hinted), sex with robots? Cause we’re a robot I guess?😂, creampie.

Word Count: 2.8k.

“I remember things from human life” The voice says. Monotonously, like it’s irrelevant and bleak. “I remember how water feels against your hands and how it feels to step on endless fields of grass. And the way lips swell after a kiss. And how they shrink after”

He chuckles. The sound is so throaty that even he can’t pin it as real. There’s nothing real around him nevertheless. Perhaps it’s you standing before him that’s deceiving; it doesn’t stop his heart from burning in his chest, but it’s your image that hurts- then again, these days, everything hurts.

There’s this echo that surrounds him that’s similar to what lingers after a fight. Yet, this time, he has not been the one on the receiving end of a smile and he’s not the one who claps back with an angry click of his tongue. There’s silence. Lack of emotion.

A cluster sound of disaster in the background doesn’t scare you, it doesn’t even make you flinch- more so blink.

“Do you remember anything?” He asks but a voice on the break of tears and crying shall never come out the way one wants it. At least there are no bags under your eyes to indicate a rainfall on your cheeks

“I remember you” He thinks he hears

And silence fills the void of a second in space and time, or even how much it takes for him to process what you said

“At least I think she does. The memories of her brain that are installed into my hard drive are too be vague according to-”

By the time rivers spill in tears of love from his eyes the droid before him looks anything but you. It’s still your voice, Your eyes, your lips, your hair but he misses the way your eye would gleam and how you’d smile.

“We did our best to save her, Dynamight.” The words echoed in his ears as he watched them work on you. Tools digging into the cogs at the back of your neck as your lashes flickered erratically. Glitching in front of him as he took a tentative step closer, focused on you as though you were the only one in the room.

“We’ve implanted her memories, but some of the fragments have disintegrated through the transfer, so there is a chance the fusion could be unsuccessful.” The scientist spoke as Bakugou raised a palm to stroke your cheek.

“I thought you said you could do it.” Bakugou rasped back, his patience wearing thin.

He’d already spent too long without you.

Bakugou hadn’t been ready to lose you yet, not after everything you’d been through together. So desperately in love with you that he couldn’t imagine living without you, breathing without you. Some would say he’d sold his soul to the devil as he contacted a Scientific corporation set deep in the criminal underbelly in Musutafu to try and keep you alive. If anyone were to find out the number two Pro was doing unscrupulous dealings with the criminals he was tasked to apprehend he would surely lose his entire career, even if he was doing it for one reason and one reason alone— love.

“We can- I mean that is, we have, Dynamight.” The man continued, “But these technologies are new and still advancing, we don’t know how unstable they are and with little trials-”

Bakugou stopped listening as he allowed his thumb to trail across your lips, feeling his heart hammer against his ribcage as he felt the love for you continuing to swirl around him.

“I’m taking her home.” Bakugou cut the man off, uninterested in anything else he had to say. It didn’t matter, not when you were finally reunited, you were finally his again.

“She isn’t ready, we still need to-” Bakugou delved into his jacket pocket to thrust a wad of money against the man’s chest as he staggered back from the force. Glancing down at the money as he held it in his arms before sighing softly.

“Just keep an eye on it.” He muttered.

“Her.” Bakugou snarled.

“Her,” The scientist was quick to correct himself, “And if there’s anything unusual just call me.”

It felt good to have you home again, to share the same bed. The number of lonely nights he’d spent without you in his arms had been unbearable, the thought of losing you completely was too much to bear.

He should’ve been quicker, if he’d just made it to the crime scene on time he’d have been there to save you. No matter how many times Kirishima and Midoriya would say to him that it wouldn’t have mattered, that you were dead for hours, the body was already cold. Dynamight still should’ve done something.

“You gonna protect me, Dynamight.” You laughed, taking a sip of your drink as you swayed to the music thumping through the speakers in the dingy dive bar, “Keep me safe from all the creeps in here?”

“I’d do anything for you,” He replied simply.

You looked the same, pretty eyes staring back at him as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips. You even smelled the same, although that could be the essence of your perfume he’d doused you in to try and surround himself with you again. But there was a difference that Bakugou couldn’t seem to come to terms with, something that no matter how hard he tried filled him with a sick sense of dread.

You were cold.

And not like the cold he used to experience when you’d put your feet on his calves in bed, giggling as he tried to push you away. This was a chill that ran straight through you, permeating your insides as it made it feel like you weren’t even real.

“We’re working on that,” They’d told him the first time he’d questioned it, the scientists clearly aware of all the drawbacks of this new technology, “There are many issues that can always be solved with a software or hardware upgrade, she’ll be perfect eventually.”

But even with all the faults, being with you was still better than being alone. Clinging to your body as you lay with him at night, his face pressed into the curve of your neck as he spooned your smaller frame. The length of him almost curled around you as he let his hands wander, pressing into the plush skin of your hips as he let himself have the first night of peaceful sleep he’d had in weeks.

Of course, the good times were short-lived, the dreams slowly turning to nightmares as he was plagued with past memories that infiltrated his consciousness and turned dark.

“Bakugou, Bakugou— please, don’t do this. I’m sorry, I can’t— no, please.” The terrifying sound of your voice still repeated in his ears, hearing it in his nightmares.

He’d been selfish, selling his soul to the devil in the desperate hope of keeping you alive. He wasn’t ready to let you go.

How could he ever be ready to let you go when you were his entire world?

“Missed you so much, sweetheart,” He murmured, a hand tentatively reaching up to palm your soft breast, “Did you miss me too?”

“Yes, Bakugou.”

“Call me Katsuki.” The faintest hint of a snarl flashed across his features as you called him by his given name.

“Yes, Katsuki.”

“That’s my good girl,” He hummed, leaning down to take one of your nipples between his lips, “My perfect girl.”

“Man, you gotta leave her alone.” Kirishima stepped into his office without knocking, causing his friend to growl as he kept his head buried in paperwork, “She put the restraining order in this morning, it’s about to get signed off.”

“She doesn’t know what she’s thinking,” Bakugou dismissed, “She’s not well.”

“She‘s scared, man.” Kirishima tried to reason with his friend, “She doesn’t want to be with you.”

“Shut the fuck up, you don’t know shit.” Bakugou snarled, standing up from the desk as papers flew in all directions. His palms crackled as he activated his quirk, Kirishima taking a slow step back as he prepared to brace for impact.

“I know she just wants to be happy,” Kirishima replied solemnly, “So why don’t you let her?”

“Shitty hair’s a fuckin’ idiot, ain’t that right princess?” Bakugou murmured, pressing his forehead to your own as he plunged into your tight cunt, trying to remember how warm you used to feel when your walls clung to his fat cock— now you just felt cold.

Bakugou released a heavy breath through his nose as he began a languid pace, hands mapping out your body as though he was rediscovering your body. Checking it for any differences that he had yet to notice, but you were the same. Even down to the exact shade of your areola as your nipples peeked from the stroke of his calloused thumbs.

“Missed this, sweetheart,” He hummed, ruby eyes watching his cock plunge in and out of your tightness, “Missed you.”

“Yeah,” You replied robotically, eyes staring up at him vacantly.

“I know you’re still in there, princess.” Bakugou’s warm palm cupped your cheek, his thumb gripping your chin to try and search your irises to find your soul. The scientists said most of your memories would stay intact during the transfer, and Bakugou only hoped that meant only the good would remain, “I know you love me fuckin’ this pretty pussy.”

“I do,” You sighed, “Feels good.”

“Yeah?” Bakugou replied smugly, increasing his pace as he began to fuck into your pliant walls with more vigour, the lewd paps of his hips meeting yours filled the room but it was different. No longer the sound of skin against skin as it was more akin to parts rubbing together. Like the sound of him fucking into his fleshlight on those lonely nights alone when he wished you were with him. The times during the night when he’d tried to call you over, to be with you or even just hear the sound of your voice.

“Please, leave me alone.” You pleaded on the phone to him, your voice hoarse from the amount you’d cried, “My boss let me go today because he said he didn’t want to be threatened by Dynamight.”

“It was just a one-night stand, you knew that.” You continued, “I told you when I left in the morning I wasn’t looking for anything serious.”

“Yeah, but we had something special that night.”

“We had nothing, Bakugou.” You cried, “We are nothing. Please, stop calling me.”

You hung the phone up as your words ruminated, repeating in Bakugou’s mind. You did have something, something wonderful. It wasn’t his fault that you couldn’t see that, that he needed to convince you. And he would.

Slipping his boots on as he left his home to see you, ignoring the incoming call from Kirishima as he turned off his phone so that he was untraceable as he moved through the quiet streets of Musutafu.

“You feel so good, sweetheart.” Bakugou groaned, moving your arms to wrap around his waist as he continued his sloppy pace. Burying his cock inside you to the hilt as he peppered kisses against your neck, “So perfect for me.”

Bakugou's warm breath fanned against your face as he pressed his weight against your body, fooling himself that the heat was radiating from you. Remembering how it felt when you'd rake your nails along the apex of his back, leaving crimson lines in their wake.

Your breasts began to bounce as his pace became more erratic, uncaring about how merciless his movements were becoming as the blunt head of his cock plunged against your cervix with each ferocious thrust. His balls tightening as he found himself reaching his peek, standing at the edge of the cliff as he prepared to fall over the edge. His crimson eyes bore into your own as he pressed a wet kiss to your pouty lips.

“I love you.” He whispered gruffly, his nose bumping your own as he continued his rough pace.

"Wha?" You hummed, the slightest scrunch to your nose indicated that the real you was still there somewhere, wracking your brain for the memories that would aid you in this stiuation. Memories that would help you recall what was happening right now, how you felt-

“Say it back.” Bakugou barked harshly.

“I don’t know-” The words weren’t wired to your programming when you thought about him, the man that held your heart was no longer here.

You couldn’t describe the sensation- it felt as though you were no longer here but you were still entirely present. Wondering whether you may be a ghost as you stared up at the familiar ceiling inside Bakugou’s room, and maybe you were. Just a ghost holding on to superficial memories that no longer mattered, not when you weren't here- or were you?

The memories you had with Bakugou certainly felt otherworldly, remembering the drunken night you’d spent with him while you’d been on a break with Shindo Yo. A tangled mess of limbs as you spent the night in Bakugou’s arms before leaving the next morning.

The one-night stand may have been just that for you, but to Bakugou it solidified your feelings for him. And his feelings for you intensified, texting Kirishima that you were going to be moving in with him.

Kirishima[8.04AM]: That’s great man, but don’t think you should be moving that fast?

Bakugou[8.05AM]: Why not when I know she’s the one?

Bakugou[8.06AM]: I’m going to be late to work this morning, I’m going to try and find a ring.

Kirishima[8.08AM]: Bro, I really don’t think that’s a good idea.

Kirishima[8.20AM]: Can I at least meet her first?

Kirishima[9.30AM]: Kats?

Kirishima[3.01PM]: Bro? Text me back. You’ve never missed work?

“Say it,” He snarled, his hips knocking against the backs of your thighs as the sound of his balls slapped against your ass, “Tell me you love me.”

I love you, I love you, I love you repeated in your head. The memories beginning to come back as you felt them enter your consciousness, surrounding you with that feeling of adoration as the words flew from your lips.

“I love you, Yo.” If only you’d been honest with your feelings and allowed him to love you as you deserved, none of this would be happening right now.

"What?" Bakugou growled, "No- Katsuki. I told you to call me Katsuki."

"Katsuki?" You repeated the word as if it were foreign on your tongue.

You were broken, you had to be. He was the only one that should hold your heart, not him. But at least now he’d have you forever, the man who you’d claimed was your boyfriend Shindo Yo, Pro-Hero Grand, was now incarcerated in Tartarus for life for committing your murder. Even his best friend Kirishima seemed uneasy about that verdict, knowing Bakugou was more than capable of killing you— thinking an innocent man was now behind bars paying for his crimes no matter how many times Bakugou would try to convince him that he didn’t do it.

"You're mine," He growled, grinding his teeth, "You'll always be mine."

“What did you do?” Kirishima looked at his best friend nervously as he sat behind the desk in his office sorting through paperwork.

“What do you mean?” Bakugou didn’t look up as he signed the bottom of a mission report.

“Man, I got like 8 voicemails from her last night. Did you go to her house?" Kirishima asked as he lingered in front of Bakugou's desk.

“You’re a Pro-Hero and she had your number, she was probably looking for help with something.” Bakugou scoffed.

“She sounded petrified, though. Did you say something to her?”

“I didn’t do shit.” Bakugou snarled, "It's probably that prick Grand, he's enough to upset anyone."

“Where were you last night, man?” Kirishima continued, “Your secretary said you were out on patrol but I didn’t see you anywhere.”

“You fuckin’ following me now?” Bakugou growled.

“No,” Kirishima mumbled, “But it’s not like you to disappear like that.”

“I didn’t disappear, I was doin’ my fuckin’ job.”

At least now Bakugou could identify why the cold sensation of your android body upset him so much, it was because this is how cold your body felt on the day he murdered you. The chill encapsulated you as he watched the life slowly drain from your eyes as they held the same distant gaze you held now.

There was a morbid news report playing in the foyer of Dynamight’s agency as Kirishima made his way in to see his best friend, the same report had been on a loop on the channel all morning as he’d dropped his coffee mug on the kitchen floor. Breaking off into shards as the hot liquid scorched his skin, but nothing could conceal the feeling of dread he’d felt hearing the words as he began to try and call Bakugou’s cell phone with no response.

A body has been found in the early hours of this morning at the residence of the current number thirty Pro-Hero Grand. Police and forensics are still investigating the scene, but the death is being treated as suspicious. The body is thought to be that of his girlfriend, a civilian who was also working beneath the recently retired Pro-Hero Manual at his agency here in Musutafu. We will have more information when it becomes available.

The mechanical robot in front of him is now like a macabre mausoleum, capturing you in time for eternity. It was as though even in death you didn’t want him to be happy, even now you wanted him to suffer.

“Fuckin’ bitch,” Bakugou felt his large palms weaving around your neck as he continued thrusting into your pliant body, fingers pinching against your jugular as he increased the pressure, “Sayin’ his name when you’re with me now? You’re mine, you were always mine.”

Except this time there was no colour draining from your face, your eyes were already gone.

You were already gone.

Bakugou's eyes were almost as vacant as your own as he managed to rip your head clean off your neck in a sheer display of power and brute strength. Calloused palms heated up as the rage continued scorching through his body, melting the fake skin and wearing it down to the cogs and gears inside you, showing him who you really were.

A machine.

Bakugou gave a few more messy thrusts as he came inside your pliant walls, painting them white with his release. Pulling out of your spent cunt with a groan, his warm spend spilling from your ruined hole as it dribbled onto the bed. Leaving you lying motionless much like you had the last day he saw you alive, the last day he got to hold you.

“You fuckin’ made me do it, I didn’t want to do this,” Bakugou mumbled, a stray tear trickling down his cheek as the lifeless, lax android version of you lay broken atop his sheets. This time there was no blood, just broken cogs and the toxic stretch of burning silicone, "I just wanted us to be together forever."

Picking up his cell phone Bakugou searched for the science lab's contact number, hearing the familiar ring until the call connected.

“Hey Dynamight, is everything okay?”

“The transfer was unsuccessful.” Bakugou snarled, “Try again.”

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