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#well to be fair it was turning in to something scary
Note
feeling veryyyy normal thinking about being offered as part of bounty to the ghoul because the bounty poster doesn’t end up having the caps they promised him. and they need to pay him somehow. they’ll offer him their lil captive vaultie as payment for the rest. 👉🏻👈🏻 will he accept?🫣
A Fair Trade
Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female Reader
Word Count: 3,980
Warnings: smut (18+), p in v sex, oral (m receiving), creampie, sex as payment for debt, human trafficking typical of the Fallout universe.
Summary: The Ghoul always gets what's owed to him.
Notes: Oh, wow! My first submission-type ask! I'm genuinely super flattered and totally open to doing more. I initially ballparked that this would be around 2,500 words and it ended up almost 4,000 because I have no self control when it comes to this man. I will try to keep other submissions a little shorter, generally, to hopefully get them out quicker.
To the anon: This may have turned out...sweeter than you may have envisioned? Maybe that's not the word. Less rough? If so, my apologies! I hope you still enjoy.
Things had been...unfortunate for you since you had decided to leave your vault.
Looking for a taste of something new, chasing the feeling that the world had other things for you to experience, you had managed to make it to the nearest settlement of any import with only a few scrapes and bruises. But, regrettably, you lacked a true understanding of how cruel and selfish people on the surface could be, and you quickly ended up the captive of some random outpost runner.
Well, you'd been traded to the outpost runner. You still weren't quite sure how that had come about, even after weeks and weeks had passed, but, frankly, the scrawny, dirty man was a lot less scary than the guy who had initially captured you. He wasn't not scary by any means (no one up here really was, as far as you could tell); he still confiscated your things and locked you into the small room in the back that you were fairly confident was intended to be a closet every night, but he hadn't really done anything to hurt you so far. You were given a pillow, at least.
But you were growing increasingly uneasy with not knowing what his plans for you were. Worst case scenario, you guessed, he could kill and eat you like you'd heard some surface people did, but that didn't seem to be the case. Nevertheless, the way he eyeballed you, "accidentally" brushed against you with increasing frequency, made you uneasy. Maybe he'd bought you to be his wife, or whatever the Wasteland equivalent would be. You imagined that in the next few weeks he'd offer you more favorable sleeping accommodations...so long as you shared them with him.
Maybe you could accept, kill him in his sleep and flee. You really didn't treasure the idea of ending someone's life, but...you needed to get out of here, and soon.
The sound of the creaky, rusted front door hinges flexing drew your attention, distracting you from your bloody ruminations and the pile of scrap you'd been sorting through. The front office hadn't been loud, but the small murmur of voices instantly faded, a clatter of movement towards the door, followed by some very familiar sounding footfalls. He was back.
The tall, noseless, rad-ravaged man made his way in multiple times a month, sometimes even multiple times a week when the bounties were easy and the work was plentiful. You'd seen each other somewhat often the past few weeks, as your keeper had begun to allow you to clean and assist in the front of the office more and more. It was both better and worse; the days passed with less tedium and you got to see some of the interesting characters the desert produced. However, many of those characters sized you up with predatory eyes, as if they were estimating how many caps they could sell your flesh for in their heads. The ghoul had yet to give you that feeling, interestingly enough.
You'd heard whispers all over town about him, about all the things he'd apparently done, how he was supposedly hundreds of years old. You didn't believe that for a single second. After all, despite his fascinatingly gruesome appearance, he was just a man, wasn't he? A man with very advanced radiation sickness (and a rather unfriendly general disposition), but a man nonetheless.
Sometimes, you felt as if he was certainly looking at you the way a man would. You were unsure, frankly; social etiquette was so vastly different on the surface than it was at home. It sure seemed like he let his eyes linger on you, on your body. Perhaps he was simply curious about you, as you were about him; most people seemed afraid to even look his way, or too disgusted by his condition to even consider it.
"You wanna run that by me again?"
Your ears pricked up instantly at the tone in the ghoul's voice, your heckles raising as you sensed trouble. Tiptoeing towards the door to the front room, you stood as close as you dared, shoulder touching the rotting door frame as you listened in.
"I told you, we were robbed a few nights ago. I don't have the full payment for you right now. This is everything I've got."
You knew your keeper was lying, about the robbery, at least; the place was so small that if anyone had been in to steal anything, you'd have certainly known about it. Whether or not he really had the caps, you didn't know, but you supposed he didn't, figuring that he wouldn't take the risk of pissing off the ghoul if he did. You had overheard him discussing gambling on a few occasions.
"Well, you better find something to make me whole, quick." came the ghoul's acidic reply.
On some level, you understood his frustration. The work was done, the bounty delivered. Un-delivering it wouldn't make up for all the time he'd put in. But, you also knew his reputation for being unforgiving, and you felt a chill run up your spine as you began to fear that he would kill your keeper and you if he didn't find some sort of satisfaction soon.
"I don't have anything worth anything. I told you, this is all I have." the scrawny man shot back, trying to sound confident, tough.
However, based on the way his voice trembled and faltered, the uneasy way he cleared his throat, you suspected the ghoul knew he was lying, too, confirmed only a moment later by what you were certain was the sound of a gun thwish-ing out of its holster and cocking. Your heart flew up into your throat, hammering even harder when, a second later, the lighter sounds of the scrawny man's footsteps rapidly approached the door of the back office. Scrambling back towards the desk, you'd only closed about half the distance when the door flew open, the man grabbing at you almost blindly, his long, dirty nails digging into your exposed wrist as he dragged you, protesting, out behind the counter.
"Hey!" you hissed, trying your best to snatch your arm back out of his grip and failing, infuriatingly. You were momentarily blinded with outrage that he would offer your body to someone to cover his own debts, though you supposed that was just how people did things in this awful place. Your eyes, feeling like they could pop out of your head they were so wide, flew to the man on the other side of the counter, who was assessing you with a look you couldn't read.
"What about her?" the scrawny man asked, and that was the final straw. If things were going to get worse for you, you weren't just going to accept it with a smile. The fingers on your free hand curled into a fist, which you smashed into the side of his face, causing him to release your arm in shock. Almost instantly, he jerked towards you, but the Ghoul pointed the modified pistol in his hand further into his face, stopping him.
"Now, how're you gonna offer me merchandise and then try to damage it in front of me?" he said, speaking to the man, but not looking at him. He was still looking at you, an intrigued glint in his eyes. They were...pretty, actually. Warm and golden brown. Was he really thinking about taking the offer? You'd be lying if you said you weren't curious about what his body would be like underneath all the layers of clothing. However, the entire situation had your walls up high, your whole body trembling slightly.
The Ghoul stepped slowly around the counter towards you; the scrawny man shrunk away, the gun still pointed in his direction, while you held your ground, doing your best to keep your head held high as he stepped right into your bubble, your chests almost touching as he seemed to really size you up. After a moment of incredibly tense silence, his eyes moved to the door, then back to yours. Slowly, he lowered the gun.
"Alright. C'mon, Vaultie." he said simply, turning on one foot to make his way back to the other side of the counter. You hesitated, but soon moved to stand beside him, a surreal feeling washing over you.
"Hey! No fucking way, man! You can't just take her for keeps. She's worth way more caps than I owe you!"
The man was even more red-faced than usual, his tone downright indignant, but he didn't step out from behind the counter to follow.
"Ah, but, see, once we factor in the interest on my missed payment, hurt and suffering, on top of my 'you're a dumbshit' fee...I think it's a wash, personally." the Ghoul replied, leaning back over the counter into the man's dirt-speckled face. He clearly wasn't in a place of strength to negotiate, and his angry gaze moved to you again before he rolled his eyes and shook his head.
"What the fuck ever." he grunted.
You felt your body relax noticeably as the bulk of the conflict seemed to pass. However, there was a small amount of unfinished business you wanted to address before you left this place. You crossed your arms, turning your narrowed eyes to your former keeper, feeling emboldened with the Ghoul standing at your back.
"Where's my bag you took from me?"
Soon, you were back in possession of your things, including your Pip Boy, which you fretted over as you and your new keeper set out the door and into the desert heat. As you walked, you flexed the sore fingers on your hand absentmindedly. Soon, you were pouring sweat, pausing briefly to peel the top half of your vault suit down to your waist, tying the sleeves around you hips. The Ghoul appraised you silently as you did, taking a hit off of an inhaler from his pocket before continuing on.
As grateful as you were to be away from the trading outpost, away from the scrawny man and his uneasy ways, you couldn't help but worry in the back of your mind, fret at the possibility that you were going somewhere worse. It was being too trusting that got you into your situation to begin with. You worried at your lip with your teeth as he began to direct you down the road, his hand flat and firm between your shoulders. You weren't sure if the gesture was intended to be one of comfort, or if he was simply ready to snatch you up by the back of your vault suit if you decided to try to run.
The two of you walked in complete silence in the direction of the setting sun for what felt like a hundred miles. In truth, your Pip Boy revealed that you'd only gone a single mile and some change when the sun fully dipped behind the horizon, granting some blessed relief from the sweltering heat. You kept on a while longer, until the stars began to appear; eventually, the man veered from the decrepit highway, steering you to a little alcove in the rocky hillside, barely big enough to be a coyote's den.
"Alright, we'll bed down here for the night. Gettin' too dark to keep walkin'." he said, dropping his bag on the ground in a little cloud of dust as he turned to survey the site suspiciously.
You stood waiting for him to direct you, your fingers wrapped tight around the straps of your backpack, watching as he checked around wordlessly. After a few minutes, you chose one of the flatter rocks around and sat against it, watching as he built a small fire, inhaling some of the rations that had been hid away in your bag. Eventually, the ghoul threw himself down on the other side of the flames, facing the highway, and did the same, tucking into something canned from his bag. Things were quiet for a while, but eventually he spoke to you again, his voice pulling you away from fidgeting with with your Pip-Boy.
"Y'know, you're insanely lucky he didn't sell that thing. Can get quite a bit for a functional one these days. Moron didn't know what he had." he said, still chewing.
You blinked at him, your eyes flitting between the gadget on your arm and him, unsure how to respond. Briefly, you felt a growing sense of apprehension, but he must've sensed it, as he rolled his eyes and sighed softly as he swallowed.
"I'm just sayin' you're lucky you still have it, kid. Don't piss your pants. Trust me, if I wanted that thing, I'd have taken it from you already." he said, tossing the now-empty can over his shoulder.
You nodded silently, willing the tension out of your spine as you watched him dig around inside the oiled leather saddle bag once more. He produced a silver flask and a canteen, taking long pulls off of one, then the other. He then took another drag off of the inhaler he'd been puffing as you walked. Eventually, he stood, gave his back a stretch, and shrugged the long, tattered duster from his shoulders, splaying it out quickly on the ground behind him before turning back to face you.
"Alright, darlin'. Get your little ass over here."
You felt yourself freeze almost completely, your head turning sharply towards him. He hadn't said anything about the initial deal for so long that you weren't sure he was actually interested.
"What? I accepted you in lieu of payment. That means you are the payment, sweetheart. And I do intend to collect." he said, plainly amused, sinking down to the ground, his back sliding against the red rock behind him. "Besides, I've seen the way you look at me. Don't pretend you're not curious."
Your cheeks instantly felt agonizingly hot; had you been that obvious in your interest in him? Every day, something new in this place made you feel so silly, so naive. But, at the same time...he wasn't wrong. He might be rough-looking overall, but he'd been kind to you so far, and he did have quite a nice build. Besides, it had been weeks since you'd felt sufficiently alone enough to masturbate. A tad awkwardly, you went to lift yourself to walk to him when he cut you off.
"Mmm. How about you crawl?"
You felt your face twist into a mask of indignant confusion, and he chuckled. Hesitating, you made measured eye contact with him over the flames, quickly realizing, as those mischievous eyes glinted back at you, that he was serious. You swallowed hard, pulling yourself slowly onto your hands and knees before crawling the half-circle around the small fire as quickly and as dignified as possible, though there felt like there was very little dignity in it anyway. You stopped at his feet, kneeling with your hands on your thighs and looking up at him, trying your hardest to not seem as nervous as you felt.
"Take your shirt off." he ordered, head tilted as he watched you quickly pull the grimy undershirt over your head, tossing it near your bag. The night air was cool on your bare breasts, your sensitive nipples quickly peaking into hard little nubs that stung slightly. You wanted to press your warm palms to them, soothe the ache, but you didn't want him to think you were trying to cover yourself, so you simply sat, staring again, waiting for further instructions.
He grinned at you, leaning forward into your space, his gloved fingers stroking along your jaw, sliding a single one under your chin to lift your eyes fully to his. They were just as pretty glinting in the dying firelight as they had been in the outpost office.
"Y'know, you take direction pretty well, Vaultie. I like that in a lady." he said, tone low and conspiratory.
Your entire face burned now, even your eyes feeling hot, but that fire spread its way down into your core, blooming between your thighs, and you shifted slightly to press them together harder.
Reaching down, he made quick work of the belt holding up his pants and his fly, tugging free a cock that was about as red as the rest of him, the bulbous head glistening with precum already in the yellow-orange glow of the fire. Your tongue darted out to swipe at your lower lip, and you crawled up his legs to look closer. The Ghoul seemed surprised, leaning back ever so slightly from you as you came near, giving you room to move close and wrap your hand around him, drawing out a long hiss from between his yellowed teeth.
"Right on it, eh?" he chuckled almost breathlessly. "I like that in a lady, too."
You shot him a bit of a chastising look as you began to work your hand up and down over him, your free fingers coming to play along the weeping slit of him, earning another groan. He was a pretty average length for his height, you thought, but thick and already almost completely hard. It didn't seem like it would take much work to get him the rest of the way there. Your musings were interrupted by the feeling of his leather glove brushing against the swell of your breast before encaging the whole thing in his palm, massaging almost reverently. You whimpered when he plucked at your other nipple, sending shocks down your spine and straight to your already throbbing clit.
"Let's see what that pretty mouth is good for, hmm?"
Embarrassingly, you immediately dropped your head, pushing your body flat so you were sort of lying between his spread legs, bringing your lips down to hover a few inches above his leaking cock head. Tongue darting out to lap up a little taste of the shiny slickness there, you hummed; he tasted different than you were expecting, sort of the same, but with an almost metallic edge. You ran your tongue in a full circle around his tip, clenching around nothing when he groaned throatily, his right hand sliding through the dirt beside him.
"Fuck." he spat out when you unhinged your jaw, allowing the first few inches of him to fill your mouth, wrapping your lips around the head and sucking hard as your left hand continued to work the base of him. More and more precum leaked from the slit as you tongued at it, the taste and the knowledge that you were arousing to him making you rub your thighs together shamelessly.
"Play with your pussy." he commanded, clearly struggling to keep his tone even. Beneath you, you could feel his hips rocking almost imperceptibly. He didn't need to tell you twice; you could already tell you'd soaked through your underwear as you wrestled your hand down into your pants, pushing the wet gusset aside to rub tight circles around your swollen bud, moaning around his cock at the feeling.
The sound seemed to really turn him on, one of his hands suddenly moving to fist into your hair, the slight pain at the roots making you throb. His other hand came to cup your jaw again, holding you in place as he fully fucked his hips up into your waiting mouth, cussing under his breath as you continued to push yourself closer to orgasm. He kept you like that for a few long minutes, your neck cramping slightly by the time his thumb reached down, wiping away some drool that was dribbling down your chin. Bleary eyed, you looked up at him pleadingly. His answer was a wicked chuckle, his grin less of a smile and more a predator bearing his teeth.
"Blowin' a ghoul turn you on that much, cutie? What would the other vaulties think?" he tutted, shaking his head. "I think it's time you get on my cock."
Blushing hard at his little taunt, you could feel his burning gaze as you pulled yourself back up into a sitting position, tugging your boots off and setting them aside before shimmying the suit the rest of the way off, along with your underwear. A shiver broke down your spine as a small breeze hit you, your fire pretty much nothing but glowing embers now. However, when you pulled yourself back onto his lap, sighing as you ground your wet slit against his erection, you found that he was pleasantly warm feeling, bringing your hands up to his chest so you could lean over just enough to reach between you and position his cock at your entrance.
Too afraid of injuring yourself to attempt to take him all in one move, you instead opted to sink down onto the head, wriggling your hips before pulling them back up, then sinking down again, gently bouncing yourself down onto him. The man beneath you was tense, his hands kneading at your breasts as he huffed and hissed his way inside you. By the time you'd worked yourself most of the way down onto him, his hands moved to your hips, gripping them deliciously tight as you bobbed up and down on his length. For as cocky as he'd been before, he was pretty clearly struggling to keep his cool now.
One of your hands moved up from his chest, leaving you unsteadily balancing on one hand as the other pinched your nipple the same way he had before, making you cry out like a wounded animal. He must've liked that, as well, as his hands immediately yanked you the rest of the way down onto him, your ass resting flush against his hips. You repeated the sound again, higher, more strangled as he sat so deep inside you, the fat tip of him strumming away at something amazing right behind your belly button. It was too dark to make out much of anything, but you could feel the way his body twitched and bucked beneath you, strung tight as a bow.
The Ghoul's hands were digging deep into the fat of your hips, so hard you knew you'd bruise, restricting your movement, forcing you to swivel and grind your hips against him, the angle putting delicious friction on your poor aching clit and pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Your body began to clench around him rhythmically, and his hand quickly appeared on your clit in the dark, rubbing surprisingly deft stripes up and down the puffy flesh until you were suddenly gasping for air, trembling hard against his chest as he fucked up into your heat roughly, sloppily, the hand that wasn't on your clit slapping you hard on the ass. Suddenly, he let out a long, low groan, and you could feel the hot throbbing of him pumping his cum inside you, his hips stuttering as you let yourself slump halfway against him. There was a sudden metallic taste in your mouth. For several long moments, there were no sounds but your co-mingled harsh breaths and sound of the wind swirling the sand across the foothills.
After you'd finally caught your breath, you made a move to extract yourself from him. He promptly stopped you, flipping you onto your back, the smell of the duster's rich leather curling in around you as he kept grinding his hips into your overstimulated cunt. It drew an embarrassing squeal from you, hands flying to his chest once more before being rather playfully batted away.
"Oh, no, sweetheart. Nice as that was, your buddy owed me quite a bit of money. I think you'll be paying me back in installments." he growled in your ear, one hand moving around to give your ass a firm squeeze as you gave another clench around him. Your mind, foggy with sex, wandered to the Radaway still stashed in your bag.
It was going to be a long night.
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kafkasmuses · 4 months
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innocence — modern ! coriolanus snow + reader : your friends ask you to get some drugs from the local dealer, but you never expect he would take a liking to you.
tags : 18+!!! MDNI!!! drug dealing ! coryo, drugs, praise kink, overprotective behavior, possessive behavior, porn with feelings, p in v sex, fingering, special treatment
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coriolanus snow hated parties, they were loud, and the people were insufferable— but he needed the money from the things he sold. cocaine, weed, even some ecstasy. whatever the people wanted, whatever helped support his grandmother and cousin. they weren’t living in the most luxury like all the other people who held parties in these neighborhoods, so that’s why coriolanus attended them, they always paid the most.
he typically got douchebags or stuck - up pretty girls, they both always paid him in crumpled up ones that he took forever to straighten out and count— what a bunch of assholes.
what he never expected, though, was you, coming up to the man dressed in a korn shirt and baggy jeans with a bow in your hair as well as wearing a pretty dress. your doe eyes peered up at him when you tapped his shoulder, he turned, eyes slotting down to meet yours, “hey.”
“hi,” you hesitate, cute, “i.. do you sell drugs?”
he clears his throat, “sorry?”
“do you—“
“probably shouldn’t repeat yourself, doll,” he tips his head up, “i do, are you buying?“
“just for my friends, yeah,” you smile shyly at him, and he returns it.
you’re so innocent, had you ever done any drugs before? definitely not the ones he sells, maybe the weed, but cocaine or ecstasy? no, no way. if it were for you, he wouldn’t be selling you it anyway. coriolanus had a certain soft spot, if you will, for the innocent girls that wander up to him at parties with their batting eyelashes and naturally pouted lips.
“alright, let’s go upstairs,” he tips his head to the stairs, chuckling when you move to give a thumbs up to your friends before following after him, “why do they make you ask for them?”
he suddenly moves back to grab your wrist when the halls find themselves crowded, not wanting to lose you in the sea of people, nor you lose him. you were a client, a customer, and he always treats his customer this way.
loud incorrect buzzer.
he doesn’t!
coriolanus never dares to allow himself to sweeten up around his customers, or anyone, but something about your shy, deer like attitude— it had a wolf wanting to protect.
“they say they’re too nervous to do it themselves,” you finally answer when he leads you into the nearest empty room, closing the door behind you.
he finally lets go of your wrist, “that so? what are they askin’ for?”
“cocaine,” you swallow.
“then they’re not nervous,” he chuckles, having to deal with his fair share of cocaine users, none of them are nervous to approach him, “why do you let them push you around?”
he moves to sit on the bed, chopping up the cocaine from his pocket on the nightstand next to him. he typically doesn’t like when his customers stand over him, because he never knows what they will do, and he likes to be in control at all times— but you’re harmless, aren’t you? just a little deer.
you exhale a nervous laugh, “they’re not pushing me around, they’re just asking me for favors.”
he hums, eyes peering up at you as his hands absentmindedly work on the pearl powder, it was muscle memory for him at this point. “you promise you’re not doing this shit, too?”
“i promise,” your lips tip up to a curt smile, “it’s really.. scary, honestly.”
he exhales, eyes trailing over the curves of your face before they meet the nightstand again, swiping the powdered sugar like substance into a little baggie. you watch him, almost admiring, “yeah. it is really scary, dangerous, too— don’t want you doin’ this shit too.”
a warm feeling courses through your veins, you hardly realize he’s holding the baggies out for you until he clears his throat, you blink a few times, quickly trying to grasp the money you had— it wasn’t given to you by your friends to spend for them, it was just your own money. how cruel.
“it’s on the house,” he quickly says, almost unaware of what he was saying himself until it finally passes his lips.
you bat your lashes at him, “what—“
“free, doll, just take it,” he allows himself a faint smile.
you hesitantly reach to take the baggies, “are you sure…?”
he nods, “‘m positive.”
“thank you, snow,” his eyebrows furrow at how sweet his name sounds on your tongue, like nectar delivered by the kindest dove from the gods.
you turn to leave, but he quickly stands, “hey—“ he pauses, eyes sweeping over your figure as he tries to figure out what to say, you probably go to millions of parties with your asshole friends, possibly with other dealers.. “some other dealers are gonna try to rip you off, make you pay a lot for a little bit— so just, come to me and i’ll treat you good as long as you’re staying out of trouble, princess.”
“okay, i will,” you nod quickly.
“good girl.”
⊹˚. ౨ৎ
you don’t see coriolanus for a while after that night, it has been no more than a few days, less than a week but the idea of you is rotting in his brain and eating him whole from the inside out. at every party he went to, every girl with a bow in their hair (he despises that it’s the latest trend) or wearing a baby pink dress reminds him of you. with their fluttering lashes and soft smiles, god, he hates that he sees you in every one of them. he hates that you have completely plagued his entire conscience, but yet he never complains about it, not once.
sometimes, sejanus, one of the other known dealers, though he more so considers himself a look - out when coriolanus is selling, or a promoter for coriolanus’ business— he notices how coriolanus’ eyes linger more than usual on the women at parties, it almost makes him laugh, or tease coriolanus.
isn’t he supposed to be intimidating? not a man easily falling for women.
a lover boy, that’s what he seemed like now.
sejanus swishes around his drink in his cup, eyes falling to coriolanus, “what’s up with you?”
coriolanus blinks once, twice, “what are you talking about?”
“you haven’t blinked in like an hour,” sejanus liked to overexaggerate, “are you okay?”
“of course i am,” he scoffs, “‘m gonna find arachne.”
arachne, sejanus’ best friend, albeit she talks so much shit about him behind his back. sejanus is sweet, passive, and arachne is the complete opposite. some would call arachne a maneater, coriolanus thinks of her as a conceited bitch who needs to be put on a leash. she had a tendency to run off whenever she went to parties with coriolanus and sejanus, so coriolanus always had to run after her to try and find her.
sejanus nods, offering a small i’ll look too.
coriolanus allows sejanus to walk the opposite way as he turns the corner, eyes scanning each room for a brunette with a bold red lip. he doesn’t find her anywhere, god, she better not be having sex in one of the rooms upstairs like how she was last time. coriolanus likes to think opening that door to that sight was something out of a horror movie.
he does find a different brunette, though, with more golden tones and curlier hair.
festus creed, of fucking course creed is here. he was another one of the other well known dealers in the area. he wasn’t that well with his sells, mostly because he acts like he’s above everyone else in the worst way possible, and even allows people to pay with sex.
coriolanus heard his sex is never good.
funny, isn’t it? how someone with a small dick and hardly any skills on pleasing women would offer sex as payment.
coriolanus, at least, thinks it’s hilarious.
what he doesn’t think is hilarious, though, is that festus is talking to someone coriolanus is far too familiar with. glittery eye makeup, a lacy bow in their hair, baby pink dress.. it’s you.
coriolanus’ mouth runs dry when you spot him in the corner of your eye, your lips twisting into a sugar - coated grin as soon as your eyes widen, “snow!”
you immediately move to give him a hug, festus’ searing gaze following your every movement in the creepiest way possible— god, coriolanus hates him. his fingers lace around your waist, tugging you close, “hey, princess.”
“princess?” festus snickers.
coriolanus tries to ignore him, but he finds it near impossible with the words that leave your lips next, “this is festus, my friend, do you know him?”
coriolanus scoffs, does he know him, what a joke, “i know of him.”
festus finds himself chuckling bitterly, “is that right, pretty boy?”
coriolanus takes a step, and you feel a certain mold of metal against your waist when he does, a gun, his cold lips part, “sure is.”
your eyes roam over his features, the curves of his skin when his brows collide, the way his eyes darken with malice, the grit of his sharp teeth, the flush of his jaw against his flesh as he moves it. his muscles flex underneath his baggy band t - shirt, veins pulsing. he was angry.
festus’ lips part, but you speak before him, “snow?”
his head nods in your direction, but he doesn’t say anything.
“answer your girl, snow,” festus taunts.
“go upstairs,” he mumbles, it’s to you.
so you do.
⊹˚. ౨ৎ
coriolanus sighs when he closes the door behind him, coming in mere minutes later. you had been sitting on the bed in the vacant room, fingers playing together, eyes glossed over in fear and pricking with tears. coriolanus wasn’t the only one who carried, but you didn’t hear any shots, fortunately.
“kid’s such a fuckin’ asshole,” he mumbles, cracking his bruising knuckles, “he’s not sellin’ you shit, is he?”
“sometimes—“
“don’t buy from him anymore,” coriolanus pauses, swallowing, “he laces his shit sometimes.”
it was true, festus was messy with his work, he didn’t lace the products himself but the people that distributed them to him would, he was just too lazy to even notice.
“i’m sorry,” it comes out hushed, a mere whisper, but coriolanus’ ears pick up on it easily.
his tone is softer now, “why?”
“i didn’t know—“
“then don’t apologize,” his head tips to the side, sniffling the bubbling blood in his nose, he inhales, pupils wide as they roam your features. a glass tear raced down your pliant cheek, and he immediately moved to carefully wipe it away, “don’t cry, doll.”
you don’t say anything, merely melt into his touch. coriolanus isn’t good with affection, he’s hardly had any girlfriend before and if he has, they don’t last long due to his struggles with showing kindness. so it’s obvious the next word that leaves his mouth isn’t one born from honeysuckle, “cocaine?”
your lips move nervously, bottom lip tugging under your teeth as your mascara covered lashes move to his frost - bitten eyes, “do you have.. ecstasy?”
his lips drop to a frown, “why?”
your lips tremble when they part, cheeks heating under his touch, “my friends want to try it.”
“no,” he swallows, jaw ticking, “i’m not selling you that shit.”
“what? why not?”
“that shit is too dangerous,” he chuckles, albeit it’s bitterness, “i don’t want you around that, it’s trouble.”
“i’ve been good,” you reassure, hips swaying when you scoot closer to the edge of the bed, closer to him.
“have you, now?” his thumb is gently rubbing against your skin.
“i have, i promise,” you offer, feeling his fingers move so his thumb is now moving against your bottom lip, dipping into your mouth ever so slightly.
you smile around it and his pupils dilate even more, are his eyes blue anymore or merely just sole pupil? “naughty girl.”
then he stops, as if he had realized something, and pulled away. your lips curve downward to a frown, desperate to have his touch again, “snow?”
“don’t,” his molars collide, “i’ll hurt you.”
“that’s okay—“
“—i’m bad news—“
“—i don’t think that—“
“—i’m dangerous, doll.”
you hesitate, inhaling sharply, “but you won’t hurt me.”
he doesn’t say anything for a minute, “so, you want cocaine?”
you give him a careful nod, and he smiles. again, he’s being sweet.
“you know how to chop up cocaine?”
you allow yourself a giggle, “you know i don’t.”
“i’ll show you.”
and he does, his hand is gentle as it guides yours, fingers curling against the curve of your own as he crushes up the cocaine, guiding you to chop it up with the card he gave you. you’re warm underneath his cold touch, his movements experienced whilst yours are new. “how many times have you done this?”
he shrugs, breath fresh against the shell of your ear, “a couple hundred, for sure.”
“i could help you, you know, with the business,” you offer, despite not even really wanting to.
“no,” his fingers are tighter against your skin, but not enough to hurt, “i don’t want you in this business, you being around me is dangerous enough.”
“you’re not dangerous, snow,” you hush out.
he moves closer, and you feel his gun brush against your ass, lips curving into a smile, “you think so?”
you shiver from the touch, it’s loaded, the safety is probably off, “i know so.”
your thighs push together, he feels it, making him chuckle, “you’re so needy, princess.”
“snow,” you breathe out, “this isn’t fair.”
“how so?” he presses a soft kiss behind your ear, “just because you aren’t getting what you want?”
“do you want it?” you pause your movements.
“of course i do, i want it as much as you,” he moves your fingers so you drop the card, guiding them to his bulge, “‘m just not spoiled.”
you frown at his works, fingers curving around his bulge, god, how big was he? “‘m not spoiled either.”
“whatever you say, princess,” he grits out.
you palm him so well, it nearly has him rutting against your hand, breathing getting heavier against your ear. his fingers move to trail down down your back, dipping underneath the hem of your skirt and tracing along the thin material of your lace panties. his jaw shifts, “such a dirty girl, wearing these panties.”
you whimper when his fingers graze along the soaked part of your panties, thick fingers brushing against your clothed clit, “please— snow.”
“please what, princess?” you mumble something in response, but it’s nearly incoherent, more of a whimper, “use your words.”
he moves to pull your panties to the side, now touching your bare clit, making your thighs tremble, “i need— fuck, i need you— inside.”
he nods, pressing kisses along the side of your neck, finding himself already pussy - drunk. it almost felt sacrificial, a sinful man dipping his fingers inside of a goddess, the way you moaned at the feeling of his finger stretching you out— it was as if he could be confessing of his sins at any minute.
to see your hips bucking against his finger, his name hushed on the tip of your delicate tongue. didn’t you know that many people wanted him dead? how many people hated him? how the police could arrest him at any second? yet you didn’t care, a lamb to the slaughter, a deer in between the jaws of a wolf.
yet you were rutting against his hand, begging for more, desiring him to push another finger in— and he did exactly that, prepping your tight cunt for his cock, “you’re so fuckin’ tight, doll, i don’t know if it’ll fit.”
“it will— it will, i know it will—,” you’re just babbling nonsense at this point, and coriolanus wanted to be gentle, he really did, but your sweet moans, your sugary whimpers, the way he so easily pushed his fingers inside of you, the way that when you curl, your moans up a few octaves. you were so sensitive, god, were you a virgin?
the thought had coriolanus pulling his fingers out, twirling you around so he can push his fingers into your mouth, allowing you to taste yourself as his other hand undoes the belt holding his baggy jeans up. his eyes are crystalizing the memory of your tongue swirling against his fingers, sucking up every taste of your own cunt— have you thought of this as many times as he has?
he moves his hand to take his gun before it falls, placing it on the counter behind you, his fingers move from your mouth to help him push his jeans down, your lips part, “why do you have a gun?”
he smiles sweetly at your words, nearly chuckling, “why do you think?”
“‘m not sure, that’s why i asked,” you had a certain tinge in your voice that makes him quirk a brow.
“it’s to protect myself, princess,” he pushes his boxers down, finally freeing his cock, “now be a good girl, turn around, and bend over.”
of course you do exactly what he asks, bending over the counter so he can push your skirt up. the feeling of your innocence being stripped away right in front of you was far too good, like a cross ripped from the chain around your neck, or your holy water being unpurified. you were a cupcake with frosting on top, and coriolanus was sinking his teeth into you, rotting his sweet tooth.
his dick slaps against your heat when your legs part with desire, making you whine against nothing, “snow— please..”
“just say it, princess,” he moves to rub his red tip against your clit, making you shudder, knees buckling already.
“fuck me— f..fuck me,” you repeatedly beg.
he moves closer to press a sweet kiss on the back of your neck, bones colliding when his cock finally pushes into your cunt. you were so tight around him, squeezing him around your velvet walls. your jaw falls slack when you gasp at the feeling of him stretching you out, his lips pull tight together in a grunt, “so tight for me, princess— jesus christ..”
his breathing is labored when he pulls his hips back and thrusts in, he goes slow at first, treating you like you were a fragile statue made from porcelain, but then you’re begging him to go faster, to go harder. your fingers graze along the gun placed on the counter, right next to the cocaine. his tongue swipes along the roof of his mouth before he speaks, “are you sure, doll? i don’t— fuck— want to hurt you.”
“h-hurt me, it’s okay,” you mumble out, and he truly does hesitate for a second, then his thrusts are suddenly faster, bumping you into the counter with the sheer snap of his hips. your cries sound like noises formed from a blessed harp, passed down by the gods for him to listen to, each moan getting louder and louder until his ears are ringing, until the music sounds hushed compared to your screams.
it’s so obscene, all of the things that he finds himself spitting out as he harshly bucks into you. so cute, jus’ wanna ruin you, takin’ my cock so well, that feel good princess? he can’t help the way his hands snake up to your hair, tugging at the pretty bow wrapped around it, earning a frosted moan from your glossed lips.
it’s not long until you’re cuming on his cock, with him pulling out to twirl you around and push you to your knees, allowing you to jerk him off until thick white stripes are decorating your face. the white glitter, the sweet scent of your lip - gloss, now accompanied by his cum.
how cute.
“so fuckin’ pretty,” he mumbles as he tucks his dick back in his boxers, pulling his jeans back up when your painted nails move to wipe away the cum on your face, lapping it up with your pretty tongue.
you giggle sweetly, “do you do this with all your customers?”
he shakes his head, “no, doll, you’re special, you know that.”
and it’s true, you really were special.
you were a dangerous man’s doll.
4K notes · View notes
m00npiez · 9 months
Text
Modern Steddie AU
“Oh she’s cute.” Robin points over to a table near the bar.
Steve follows her finger and the blonde in the pink pleated skirt is, in fact, very cute. “You should go talk to her.”
Robin gives him a look, “Literally everything about her screams ‘straight’ so no thanks,” she takes a sip of her cocktail, “Don’t feel like getting humiliated today.”
Steve rolls his eyes, “I doubt she’d humiliate you but suit yourself.” He stands and fluffs up his hair a little, “If you won’t, I sure as hell will.”
Before his friend can protest, Steve’s strutting over to the girl’s table. She looks up at him when he stops and leans slightly against the chair opposite from hers.
“Hi!” she greets before he can say anything. Her whole face lights up as she smiles. She’s definitely cute, but not exactly what Steve had in mind for the night.
“Hey,” Steve flashes his own smile, “I was just telling my friend how cute you are and wanted to know if I could maybe buy you a drink?”
Her face goes pink, but her smile falters slightly and a small frown forms. “Oh that’s so nice of you, but I’m actually a lesbian,” she seems genuinely upset at having to break this news to him. “I’m really sorry, you seem lovely.”
Steve’s eyes widen slightly, but his smile remains, “Oh, god, sorry I should have asked,” he laughs, “That’s totally my bad.”
She shakes her head and leans forward in her seat, “Not at all, sweetheart!” there’s a slight southern accent slipping through and her smile is back. “You couldn’t have known, I know I don’t exactly look the part.”
“Well, since I’m already here,” Steve smirks, glancing over his shoulder to where he can see Robin watching the scene unfold. Her eyes snap away once she realizes he’s looking at her. “My friend over there is single and also extremely gay.”
Chrissy looks over and her smile turns coy, “Now she’s cute,” her eyes snap back to Steve. “She’s the one who told you to come over?”
“The opposite, actually. She thought you were straight so, I came over instead.” Steve explains.
Chrissy nods, glances over her shoulder and then stands. “Well, I’ll just have to go over there then.”
Steve smiles, “I’m Steve, by the way.”
“Chrissy.” The blonde extends her hand and Steve shakes it. “Thank you for letting me know the girl I’ve been eyeing is queer.”
Steve gives her a two-finger salute and goes to walk away, but she grabs his wrist to stop him.
“Do you like men, by any chance?” Chrissy asks, her smile alluding to something.
“Is it that obvious?” Steve laughs.
She gives him a once-over, “The tight shirt sort of gave you away.”
“Fair enough. Why do you ask?”
Chrissy points over to a curly-haired guy covered in tattoos, who’s ordering at the bar, “You should go talk to my friend, Eddie, he’s been blabbing about the hot jock in the polo since you walked in.”
Steve swallows, he’d seen the guy when they walked in, but hadn’t allowed himself to look. He was the kind of hot and scary Steve usually avoided due to their usual disdain for preppy guys like Steve. But surely if he kept Chrissy around, he couldn’t be all bad.
“I don’t exactly seem like his type.” Steve points out, giving Chrissy a nervous glance.
She laughs, “Oh please, pretty boy with big eyes and a great body? You’re everyone’s type.”
“Not yours.”
“Trust me honey, if you were a masc lesbian I’d be all over you right about now.” Chrissy winks and Steve can feel his face heating up.
“I don’t want to bother him…”
Chrissy rolls her eyes, “Just use the same line you used on me, he doesn’t bite.” she pauses, “Unless you ask really nicely.”
Yeah she isn’t exactly easing his nerves with these little jabs.
“He looks like he carries a knife.” Steve’s just stalling at this point.
“I know he seems kinda mean and scary, but he’s really just a big ol’ softie, trust me,” she pats his shoulder, picks up her drink and starts walking towards Robin, “Now I’ve got a pretty lady to talk to, so get! Go make a move on the scary metalhead, Steve!”
Steve watches her go, his amusement growing at the sight of Robin’s panic when Chrissy plops down at their table.
Mustering up the courage to walk to the bar, he turns but immediately bumps into someone. The person manages to steady their drink and somehow prevent Steve from falling on his ass, grabbing him around the waist.
“Shit sorry!” Steve finds his footing, only to nearly lose it again when he looks up to find his face a few inches away from the aforementioned friend of Chrissy’s.
Eddie smiles, squeezes Steve’s waist once before releasing him, “Don’t sweat it, sweetheart.”
Steve’s face must have been bloodshot at that point. Two people had called him sweetheart within the span of a few minutes. At this rate his brain was going to malfunction entirely.
Eddie studies him for a second, his eyes twinkling, before looking over to the now unoccupied table. He frowns, looking around the bar.
“She’s over there.” Steve points to where the two girls are deep in conversation.
Eddie’s eyes look from Steve to Chrissy and back again. “Were you heading back there?”
“Uh, no, actually,” Steve clears his throat. Why was it so hot all of the sudden? “I was told to go talk to the scary metalhead?”
Eddie’s grin returned, showing off his dimples. Steve was allowing himself to stare at the man now, and god was he stunning.
“Scary? That’s rich coming from the girl who literally carries a knife with her.” Eddie sits down at the table and looks at Steve expectantly, “I don’t bite,” he gestures for him to sit, so he does.
“Apparently you do if I ask nicely,” Steve says, then feels his face heat up again when he hears what he said.
Eddie laughs, loud and beautiful, “God, she really knows how to play wingman, huh?”
5K notes · View notes
feyascorner · 5 months
Text
until I come back alive
summary. in which you come back injured from a particularly unlucky battle, and Astarion realizes his feigned affections for you are not feigned at all.
warnings. angst, fluff, Astarion being bad at feelings
pairing. Astarion x GN!reader
a/n. this is super long omg ALSO TYSM for the love on my previous fic! It was my first post so I didn’t realize more than like two ppl would see it!! Kind of scary but also I can write more astarion so oh well 🙏
“The way they look at you is different from the way they look at us.”
Astarion raises a brow at this, glancing at Karlach who adjusts a log in the campfire paying no heed to the flickering flames brushing against her skin. She smiles to herself, genuinely, and he questions if she’s finally gone mad.
“So have you said the big ‘L’ word yet?” she asks excitedly, turning to him with a big grin. He shifts away from her, the increasing heat radiating off her body but she doesn’t seem to care, too busy staring at him expectantly.
“The what?”
“You know! The ‘L’ word,” she says the last part in a hushed whisper, as if it’d be a sin for anyone else to hear. Occasionally it baffles him how childish she can be, though he’d never voice these concerns out loud considering she could snap his poor body in half if she really wanted.
He also knows that she’s more emotionally capable in how she approaches these relationships (though one could argue it’s just innocence)—in ways he’s lost over the past 200 years. Though, he makes an effort to shove these thoughts to the deepest corners of his brain for the sake of his own sanity.
“If you’re speaking of ‘love,’” He emphasizes it with a strange accent. “No. I have not. Nor have they.”
She appears puzzled. “Why not?”
He sighs irritably, bringing a hand to adjust the cuffs on his hand. “Must everything be put bluntly? So glaringly obvious?”
“You love each other, don’t you?”
At this, he falters, just the slightest before plastering his usual grin that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Love is a wide spectrum, dear. Tav and I are whatever they want us to be.”
A late night partner would be the most positive thing he could refer you to. A fling, an amusement, or whatever words people described the arrangement between the two of you as, he didn’t care for it. He’d given himself to you, and you to him—-physically, at least, and you’d seem more than content with it. In return, he received protection, which was a sufficient payment in return for his hushed words of affection and kisses. A fair trade, he deemed.
Sure, he could’ve chosen anyone else in the camp. But he’d seen the way your eyes lit up at the sight of him, surely dazed at his flirtatious tendencies. You’d been an easy target. A survival tool.
And yes, maybe he’d played with your innocent feelings, but could you really blame him? He’d given you the nights of your life, for something so simple in return. It was a transaction.
Karlach waves a dismissive hand which brings him back to the present, propping herself on her arm behind her. “Life’s too short for that bullshit. Either you love someone or you don’t.”
“Fortunately for me, I have all of eternity,” he snorts. “Unless I were to suddenly lose the unwanted visitor inside my head and step into the sunlight, I’ll be here to watch the world fall and rise a dozen times over I’m afraid.”
“But they don’t,” Karlach frowns. “Tav doesn’t have eternity.”
He ignores the way his jaw clenches. He’s afraid, he thinks, of losing the freedom he’s just gained.
“Did you call me?”
Both the vampire and tiefling turn to your voice, where you stand blankly with an armful of logs clutched to your waist. Karlach opens her mouth to respond, but Astarion is faster.
“Nothing, darling. Just answering a few curious questions from Karlach here.”
“Oh,” you blink at him, shrugging before setting the logs beside the fireplace. “Well, Gale, Shadowheart, and I are going to the village across the forest tomorrow morning to check on the goblins appearing there recently. Won’t be back till noon so don’t wait up.”
“Don’t worry,” Karlach laughs. “I’ll keep the camp in order while you’re gone. If Astarion tries to bite Lae’zel, though, his fate’s inevitable.”
He rolls his eyes, opting to stand from his spot and take your hand. “Come along, darling. Any longer near this damned fireplace and my skin may melt.”
You nod with a smile, waving at Karlach before you follow him into his tent without a word of protest.
Easy, he thinks. Too easy.
He soon finds himself staring up at you from his place, laying his head on your lap as you read through a few scrolls you found throughout the day. He clicks his tongue and you look down, offering that sickeningly sweet smile again. “What’s wrong?”
“You have the most handsome person in this camp on your bloody lap and you want to read?”
You snicker at this, setting the scroll down beside you. “What do you suggest I do? Worship the very eyelashes on your face?”
“My body deserves much more praise than just the eyelashes.”
“Hm…” you pretend to be in thought. “That mole on your face is very obvious too.”
He gasps, immediately shooting upward as he grabs at his own face. “Tell me you’re lying.”
Your laughter rings throughout the tent, airy as you pull his hand away from his face. “I’m kidding, mostly.”
He stares at you as you recollect yourself, finding himself gazing at you far longer than he’d like to admit. Quickly, he adjusts, fiddling with the hand mirror he always keeps under his pillow as he watches you through it. “Karlach spoke of something ridiculous today. She said you were in love with me.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really,” he rolls his eyes. “That woman lives in a fairy tale I tell you. How she went through 10 years in Avernus is beyond me.”
There’s slight hesitance in your voice, and if he’d not learned your body language early on in your arrangement, he wouldn’t have even noticed it. “Astarion, have you ever been in love?”
He pauses at this, meeting your eyes head on now. There’s a heavier thickness in the air between the short distance between the two of you, and he immediately gauges what you want him to say. A lie readies itself at the tip of his tongue, his gaze searching yours for whatever fantasy that lives behind them.
Instead, your expression is blank. He finds nothing.
“No.” He’s not sure why he responded honestly, but it’s too late to take it back. “Have you?”
You look to the side. “I’m not sure anymore.”
“Anymore?” He shifts his head when you turn your chin further away, avoiding confrontation. “Has someone captured your impenetrable heart as of late? How intriguing—do tell.”
His teasing tone drops when you don’t smile at his usual antics. He’s not stupid—far from it. He knows you’ve begun to fall for him. It’s an obvious result from the 200 years of instinctive flirting he has tucked away in what remains of his soul, and it’s what he intended. What he needed.
The more enraptured you are, the longer he has protection.
He gently tilts your chin toward him, his fang visible through the grin that stretches across his face. “Tell me, pet, do you love me?”
Your eyes drop to his lips. “Do you want me to?”
A bunny caught in the fangs of a fox. It would be so easy to indulge—to go as far as to make you nothing but a puppet he toys with for his own personal gains. He can sense the way your finger twitches, itching to lace them with his own, and the crueler side of him forces his hand to stay put.
He wordlessly leans toward you, his lips grazing against the side of your neck. You shiver at the touch and he smiles wickedly to himself, drinking in the gasp that escapes you when he tilts your neck to the other side, where he usually drinks.
He doesn’t even have to ask. “Just—be gentle. Please.”
“Of course.” He unhinges his jaw, ready to plunge the knives of his teeth into where the sweet liquid gold rushes to your face, his shoulders finally relaxing when—
“I love you,” you whisper under your breath.
He stops.
Though unsure why, he freezes. Completely and utterly freezes.
“Astarion?”
He pulls away slowly, staring at you for a long moment before offering another smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.
“You look exhausted, my dear. I think that’s enough for tonight.”
“But you didn’t even feed?”
“I can handle myself, darling, as much as I appreciate your worries,” he stands and holds the flap of the tent open, practically a silent demand for you to leave.
He should be ecstatic. Gleaming with joy from being offered a drop of your blood, but instead, he feels knots forming in his stomach. And the longer he watches you, the worst they seem the get.
Hurt flashes across your face and he ignores the sudden tightness in his chest.
“Okay, well,” you say, stepping out hesitantly. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, my dear.”
And as he lies wide awake in the middle of the night with nothing to accompany him but his own thoughts, he finds that all of them are overruled by his endless need for warmth. Not just anyone’s but the one he’s become accustomed to the past few months. No matter how much he curls up in his bedroll, all he can feel is the chill of his own body.
And he hates it more than he expected.
——
By the time he awakens, you’re long gone.
He’s rather productive. Taking walks, gathering supplies, catching up on his reading, he refuses to sit and lie around as the others await for you and your companions to return from the goblin village.
He even entertains sitting through one of Karlach’s dances, which somehow ends up being more entertaining than he’d imagined. While she didn’t fall flat on her face (which he admittedly looked forward to), it burnt through time regardless.
The peace is broken when he hears footsteps rushing toward the camp. He’s memorized everyone’s intervals when sprinting or pacing, so he’s quick to identify Gale and Shadowheart. He listens keenly for your own footsteps.
There are no third pair of footsteps at all.
Shadowheart stumbles into the camp, in a panic compared to her usual self, as she points toward a spot on the ground and snaps at Gale to put something down.
He only sees when she moves out of the way that this something, is rather someone.
You’re writhing in pain, eyes shut in an unconsciousness that’s surely preferable to what you’re feeling. You’re sweating, groaning in your sleep and everyone is immediately rushing to you.
His face would’ve gone pale, if it weren’t for the fact that he was already as ghostly as a sheet.
“What happened,” Lae’zel demands in place of him, and he opts to mindlessly push Gale to the side, who doesn’t say a word from the expression on Astarion’s face. He doesn’t know what he looks like, but from Gale’s reaction, it’s better he never know.
“Damned poison arrows,” Shadowheart hisses. “I’m completely out of magic for today. I need to make an antidote by hand before their condition gets any worse than it already is.”
Astarion brushes the back of his knuckles against your cheek. The creases between your brows soften for the slightest moment before they’re back again.
Lae’zel and Shadowheart are arguing again—something about how one thing would’ve happened if another thing hadn’t. He’s not even sure what they’re arguing about, but in an instant, rage flickers in his chest.
“Do something!” He snaps, suddenly making the camp go quiet. “Or are you just going to stand there and watch them die?”
He suddenly feels a hand grab his, and his eyes shoot down to see your own. Even in your sleep, you reach out to him. Even in the deepest part of slumber, you search for him. It makes him feel like the shittiest and luckiest person alive, especially as the your hurt expression from last night flashes in his mind.
“Help them,” the words spill out against his will, his tone breaking down into something more desperate. “Do something. For God’s sake, anything.”
In the moment, he doesn’t care about protection. He doesn’t give a shit about any of that because the second he’d seen you in genuine pain, it was all he needed to completely forget about the stupid reasons why he approached you in the first place.
All he cared about was your life.
Everyone glances at one another knowingly, but even Lae’zel doesn’t break the silence. Shadowheart spares him a furrowed glare before rushing to gather the antidote.
You only awake hours later. Certainly during the middle of the night, to the ceiling of a tent that’s certainly not your own. You slowly urge yourself to sit up, a pounding headache ringing in your skull, but your worries about it vanish when you hear his voice.
“Quite the nap, darling.”
You snap around to see him on the other side of the tent, albeit only a few feet away from how crunched it is. Fascinating, he thinks, that even with your disheveled hair and bloodshot eyes, he finds you more beautiful than before. “What happened?”
“You nearly died.”
“…how?”
“Poison,” he’s fiddling with his dagger, refusing to look at you. He can’t. In fear of what he might say. “Caused a reasonable panic too. Seems like our companions have grown more attached to you than anyone’s expected.”
You purse your lips, and he quickly mortifies at the exceeding need to part them with his own. You don’t seem to notice. “You too?”
“I was certainly worried our esteemed leader may kick the bucket earlier than anticipated, yes.”
“No, I mean,” you scrunch your eyes sheepishly, and he thinks it’s adorable. Gods he must be going insane. “Have you…grown attached?”
He raises a brow. “You just woke up from a life threatening experience and that’s what piques your interest?”
Your cheeks turn a shade darker. He wants to touch them. “I just…I was worried all day. About us. I got too distracted and of course, that’s on me, but one of the goblins took advantage and—“
He wants to climb into a coffin, guilt eating away at what remains of his organs. But when you fidget with the ends of his bedroll blanket, he can’t tell if his stomach is churning from shame or something else.
You stop, close your mouth, then open it again. “When I passed out, I was just thinking about how I would hate for us to part like that. I didn’t want last night to be our last moment.”
“No,” he says firmly. “While you’d been asleep, I’ve had quite some time to think, darling. And more time to wallow in my self pity for being stuck with an actual weirdo. I mean, do you hear yourself? Worrying about such a stupid encounter while on your deathbed? You should’ve been cursing me with all the strength you had left if you were going to think about me of all people!”
You smile a bit, and he grits his teeth at the way his throat goes dry. “I’m just glad.”
“For getting poisoned?”
“No,” you roll your eyes. “I’m glad I didn’t scare you off by telling you I loved you. I was afraid we wouldn’t talk like this anymore.”
His body wills him to freeze up again. To push you away, and to force the fantasy that his feelings towards you were nothing but manipulative. That you were nothing but a way to survive to him. But no, he couldn’t stand such cowardice any longer. Not after nearly losing you.
You offer him a pathetic laugh. “I don’t expect you to say it back, nor for you to feel the same way. I just—felt like you needed to know. It doesn’t change anything between us I hope. It just felt wrong to keep it to myself any longer and the way you reacted just made me regret it so much-“
He wraps his palm in front of your mouth, his other hand pulling you closer to his side in an instant. With your faces inches apart, he sighs irritably. “As much as I’d like to keep hearing your voice, I can’t stand its contents any longer I’m afraid.”
He lowers his hand, staring straight at your wide eyes as he narrows his own. “I do. Like you, I mean. A lot more than I’d like to admit, quite frankly.”
You blink as if you’re staring at a miracle.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he mumbles with a scoff. “I’ve had these feelings for a while now, I just didn’t wish to face them. When you said that to me yesterday, I just didn’t know how to respond, and for that, I am sorry. But losing you—I’m not sure what I would have done, but it’s certainly not a pretty sight.”
Your eyes soften and he’s certain he can lose himself within them for years. “I’ve never heard you sound so—sincere.”
He raises your knuckles to his lips, keeping them close even as he speaks. “I approached you out of necessity, I’ll admit. But it seems you’ve grown on me in a way I haven’t experienced since I’ve turned into a spawn. What you are to me—it’s difficult to describe.” He pauses. “Sometimes, I can still feel my heart beating with you.”
As your fingers brush against the side of his face, he swears he can feel it again. He almost feels warm, maybe even safe. And he’s sick and tired of denying himself of your embrace when death is around every corner.
You’re soon curled up into his chest, with his chin atop of your head. He’s not sure how much time passes—maybe hours, or even days as he continues to observe your face, committing each and every detail to his memory. And when your breathing steadies, falling into deep slumber, he finally has the courage to whisper the words against your hair.
“I love you.”
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ohmygraves · 4 months
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it started off as a prank.
soap and gaz were fooling around, really. nothing too serious, not expecting much from it. hell, the account was in soap's phone. ghost didn't even know anything about it.
the two created a tinder account for the lieutenant, just to see what kind of people would be so inclined to message a masked man like him.
photos were taken candidly, most of it from soap's own stash (don't ask). something more serious was cropped from group pictures, from either the bar or during a mission. gaz thought of the introduction, with little embellishments to make it more ridiculous. the goal was to see how many would swipe right to the scary, masked lieutenant.
of course, the sergeants were surprised to see so many match notifications, to the point that soap's phone would just erupt with notification sounds, even during briefings. safe to say, the poor scot got in trouble, and ended up turning off the notification for the app.
most of the matches seems to be coming from a place of lust, a lot of requests of one night stands or fuck buddies (what is it with people who liked masked men, the two thought). many seemed very forward and to the point with what they wanted. it was ridiculous trying to scroll through the first messages and reading them one by one.
but then there's you.
you: hello, i feel like i've seen you before. are you staying at the base near (location)?
soap and gaz thought your first message was interesting. it could be that you knew the lieutenant somewhere, or had seen him at least once. you seem to be a real person too, judging from your profile. photos of you indicated as such.
gaz wanted to call it quits, ghosts you just like every other match that they received, but soap wanted to take it a step further, even if gaz was completely against the idea. bickering for a while, soap ended up sending a text, and that's how you started talking to "ghost".
ghost: yeah. do i know you from somewhere?
soap had expected it to be a flirting attempt, though he was surprised to see an actual answer.
you: oh, i think i've seen you a few times outside of the base.
you: i frequent the café nearby ^^
oh, you're so cute and innocent, soap kinda felt bad for lying now.
ghost: i see
ghost: perhaps i'll see you sometime too? ;)
soap got addicted to posing as ghost. the two of you texted back and forth during his break, sometimes even at night. soap stayed up and missed some sleep just for some elaborate joke that kept going and going, and gaz was just tuning into the drama too.
everything was fun at first, not everyday the scot got to roleplay as the lieutenant, especially since the man was such a dry texter. it was funny trying to come up with an awkward reply or even just flat messages when talking to you. you were just so nice and oblivious to it though.
soap nearly lost his marbles when you asked to meet up in the cafe near the base, and asked when it was possible. you knew that soldiers frequently are given a leave, so perhaps "ghost" would love to meet you when he had the time. the scot was sure that he went too far this time, earning "i told you so" look from gaz even when he's clearly also enjoying the shenanigans.
they decided that it's finally time to come clean to the man in question.
ghost, of course, was furious. not only that this was a violation of privacy, soap and gaz had wasted a random person's time because of some elaborate joke that went too far. now they even want to meet with him too.
soap thought that the only way to fix this was just to inform you as well. it was only fair as you're also affected by this. hell, he didn't even know that his "casual" flirting (which was a loose term considering ghost's texting habits that soap adapted for this roleplay) would be enjoyed by someone, even getting the lieutenant a date too. the scot insisted that you two still meet anyway, and that he would be there too to apologize.
ghost, of course, was definitely against it. he had been dragged into this against his will, and it's not like he had the time too. why would he entertain the two sergeants who got him into this mess—
but perhaps just a cup of tea with a beautiful person like you would be nice... perhaps...
reluctantly, ghost agreed to the date, letting soap talk to you to set up a time and place. while looking at your pictures and the past conversations, he didn't seem to mind that he's now on some sort of a blind date...
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etheries1015 · 11 months
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How TWST characters react to finding out your real name
They hadn't realized you were using a fake name or a nickname, and when they find out you hadn't told them your real name, they each reacted in their own way.
Featuring : Idia, Lilia, Crowley, Ace/deuce/grim (together) , Azul/jade/Floyd (together), Malleus, Epel, Rook, Vil, Kalim, Jamil
Idia - Fair. Its like using a fake in game name only in real life, who needs to know your real name? It's not that important, it doesn't change that you're still you. But he is glad that you trusted him with your real name, but now he's a little possessive, and doesn't like it when other people use your real name. Its HIS privilege to know the you behind the character! (He wants his y/n moment and he gets some sort of fulfillment knowing he was the first to learn your true name. Like he's in some sort of otome game)
Lilia- he raises an eyebrow and has an amused smile on his face. He wasn't expecting you to feel the need to hide your identity, were you some sort of refugee? Hiding from something? You then explain to him you simply didnt feel comfortable sharing your real name with a bunch of strangers since coming to twisted wonderland, and he was easily able to accept that answer. He calls you by whatever name you prefer, it makes no difference to him, and he quickly gets over it. (If he wants to get your attention and tease you, he will use your real name)
Malleus- A little bit...hurt, in a way? You couldn't trust him with your real name? He knew others thought he was scary and didnt trust him for his lineage, however he had to remind himself that you were different than them. You were kind and understanding, and he had to push back his childish thinking. He did the same thing in fact, hiding his name from you until learning far after your meeting. Perhaps you had your reasons as well, and he respects that, and warms his heart slightly coming to terms that you had entrusted him with that information. He uses whatever name you feel the most at ease of hearing, but there will be times in which you two are alone and he gets in his feelings. Hearing your name sound so sincere and loving coming from his lips makes it sound sweeter than you remember.
Azul + the Leech brothers- Shocked. Flabbergasted. You did it in such a cool way too, you signed his contract using a name he wasn't familiar with. "You are aware that using a fake name won't do you any good, Right?" He had pointed out. You gave him a smirk and crossed your arms, "Who says its fake? In fact, the name I signed is indeed my REAL name. I thought I might as well use my real name, to show how confident I am that your little tricks will not fool me." Jade simply smiled and nodded in approval, whilst Floyd began laughing hysterically at Azuls reaction (his mouth hung open. He just convinced himself you had an inflated ego.) Needless to say, they will not forget that moment in a while.
Crowley- Blames you and says "Well of course I couldn't find your records anywhere or continue with my investigation on your case, you didnt even give me an accurate name to go by!" (In reality he wasn't doing anything to help you, he just thought this gave him an out and more time to think of something. You knew this.) The gaslighting king, and good at making you feel bad for not enrolling into the school by providing your full real name. You rolled your eyes and kept doing what you were doing (slay)
Kalim- he gets super excited, and fully respects you by any name you go by. He showers you in compliments and says its such a nice and fitting name for a person such as yourself. He smiles brightly and locks arms with you; "(fake name) or (real name), they both suit you well! You're still the prefect I love, regardless of what name you use!" .... But then he starts to ask you why, and it turns into an hour long conversation about names. (Probably tries to suggest names that would suit you)
Jamil- A little surprised at first, however he never made a big deal out of it and didnt care much. He shrugged and continued using the name you had given him, its what you chose to go by, is it not? So he will continue to do so. (Inwardly he understands why you hid your true identity, but also thinks its silly in a way. Why would you go so long without sharing something as small as a name? But it was a one time thought, and never dwelled on those questions.)
Vil- Also doesn't make a big deal out of it. Your name suits you well, he will ask what you prefer to go by, however. If you aren't comfortable using your real name, who is he to judge? He asks you once about why you chose to use a fake name, and he respected it. "Or I can just call you prefect, if you prefer? Your title precedes your name, and it's a form of respect. How does that sound?" You chuckle and say that you trust him enough to be on a first name base, and he responds with a slight blush. You really know how to see past his professionalism.
Rook- Add it to his list of things he knows about people and probably knows too much about people. He stores it in his mind along side with your weight, your height, your frequented places in the school, your gym scores, the height you can jump, how fast you finish your lunch, how big your hand is, your shoe size, how many hairs are on your head... "magnifique! I just love learning new things about you, it never ceases to amaze the mysteries you hold! Please, tell me more!"
Epel- A little bit disappointed you hadn't told him sooner. He gets over it quickly, but he was still a little upset to hear that he was one of the last people to find out what your real name is! Not that it truly matters, but a persons name is a persons treasure, and he wanted a part of the great reveal! (It wasn't THAT great. It came up casually, he's just a little sentimental and dramatic sometimes.) He ends up carving your name out of an apple, he says he made it cause' he was bored and no other reason, but in reality he really likes your name more than he leads on.
Ace/deuce/Grim- What do you MEAN that the past year they have been calling you by a FAKE/NICKNAME This entire time?? Do you have that little faith in them???? When you explained to them you had simply rolled with it when you first arrived to twisted wonderland and became accustomed to it, the name flowed off your tongue as natural as breathing. It had nothing to do with trust as time went on. They were all so dramatic about it though. "Our Prefect LIED to us!" They cried out, prostrating themselves on the floor and demanding you buy them food in to compensate 'the emotional damages' they claimed you inflicted upon them. You rolled your eyes and laughed playfully as the three of them whined about your "distrust" in them.
You loved them nonetheless, those morons 💜
---
A link to my master list!
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bibluebutterfly · 8 months
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Alright, so one thing I absolutely love about the potential later conflict between Fizz and Ozzie is that they both come from very understandable places.
For Fizz, he has every right to want to be out by himself and just do things independently. You can tell up until he ran into Blitz he enjoyed his day out and getting to do something on his own.
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And then we have Ozzie's perspective. He's overprotective of Fizz but to be completely fair, considering what we've seen so far, he's seen Fizz get hurt a LOT. Like A LOT a lot.
For instance, as far as we can tell, he's the only one who works on Fizz's limbs, and considering the fact that he has spare parts around, we can safely assume that Fizz needing a tune up isn't exactly a rare occurrence. Plus the fact that he's probably been there for the better part of Fizz's recovery would show him more just how vulnerable Fizz really is. It also probably doesn't help that Fizz still manages to get hurt even when Ozzie is literally right next to him.
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Ozzie knows that Fizz isn't helpless, but seeing someone you love get hurt can is really scary. And considering Ozzie likely feels that kind of fear constantly, it makes sense that he would be just a tad too overbearing. Plus considering Fizz never makes a serious fuss about his tendencies and even seems to agree sometimes, Ozzie thinks that Fizz is fine with how things are.
Back to Fizz, despite him and Ozzie being on numerous levels of understanding, he likely feels like he can really say anything because it turns out that Ozzie's worries were in fact valid. Not to mention that because he and Ozzie are so in sync, he probably knows how Ozzie feels about this whole thing and would feel guilty bringing it up.
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People interpret this frame as either Fizz feeling guilty for worrying Ozzie and getting himself in trouble, others interpret it as sadness that he probably won't be able to go out alone in at least a while. Why can't it be both?
That being said, Fizzmodeus is still a wholesome and healthy couple, but it's interesting to see how this topic will be brought up in the future. I just like how the two of them come from very understandable places, and how neither are entirely in the wrong (Fizz should speak up and Ozzie should be less protective). It's also kind of refreshing to see a relationship with problems where one isn't entirely in the wrong (like M&M), and they are both on equal levels with each other (unlike Stolitz).
(Because whereas Stolas and Blitz are in places where they can't really understand each other or talk about their problems, Ozzie and Fizz are in a place where they understand each other so well that they don't feel like they need to.)
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theminecraftbee · 5 months
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task: answer the following question. do you believe in curses? respond as completely with relevant information as possible.
Grian: Well, that's a lie. This isn't a task. I know it's not a task, I set the things up! Not sure why we're getting a question as pointless as this one, but sure, mysterious scroll, I'll answer. There's no such thing as curses, unless you're Timmy, in which case it's funny, yeah? Besides, I didn't actually kill Etho. Even if that did count, self-fulfilling prophecies aren't the same thing as curses, and I know which one I fall under.
Joel: Do I believe in bloody curses what kind of question is that? Do I really get hearts just for answering this? This feels like a prank or something... well, whatever. There are no such thing as curses, except the Boogeyman curse, which I sort of had today, but it wasn't actually the same at all. A lot of the bloodlust, sure, but a lot more... Etho had to be the one to do it, huh? And it's not the same. Not comforting. That's a stupid thing to say actually. Take it out of wherever you're putting this. Cut it out of the recording. Comforting. Please. As if it were ever... Yeah, I'm done actually. Don't have a good answer. Go away.
Scott: What, other than Jimmy? Bless that man, he may not have died first, but he sure tried his best. Sure, I'll believe Jimmy is cursed. I mean, mostly he's just kind of stupid. Lovingly so. I mean, despite him being stupid, I put up with him, right? That seems like a complete answer to this question. Jimmy's an omen but we put up with him anyway. That's all.
Mumbo: NO RESPONSE GIVEN.
Pearl: Oh, I mean, I'm probably cursed. That's what everyone liked to say at one point. I think... I mean, I think this time I have good friends, which is nice. They don't think I'm cursed. And it's not like I--I mean, it's surprisingly fun, acting cursed! And I am just acting. Acting scary, blowing up dance floors, all of that. And I don't really have to this time, so... Maybe I'm not cursed? And since it's acting, it's not real? This is a weird question.
Etho: Oh, man, that's a question. Um, do I have to answer? Because I feel like if I say no, that's really just asking for it, but if I say yes, I have to explain myself. Uh, I think I'm abstaining, unless the zombie thing from earlier counts. That was scary and I hated it. Curses are scary and I hate them in general, but apparently I'm good at them, if you ask everyone else. Um, it's not the only thing I find scary that apparently I'm good at.
Scar: Why, of course I believe in curses! Look at poor, poor... Timbert? Timmy? Jim? Gosh, sorry, I'm very tired right now. That's more proof of curses, by the way! That I'm tired. I've been tired straight since the desert, let me tell you what. And that, my friends, is a curse like no other. What a terrible beast, loneliness is. Wish me luck breaking it, because it's not happening this season!
Cleo: Oh, you mean the thing people like to blame instead of their own actions? Nah. My soulbond was kind of a curse, I guess, but even that's at least half just... bad people. Bad relationships. Good ones, too. We're all just doing what you can, you know? No script, no curses, no characters, just... Oh, I hope everything turns out tomorrow. Sorry, that's unrelated. It's just nicer to hope than to preemptively blame things on curses that don't exist.
Impulse: Well, I mean, I didn't until you just asked me that, but now I feel like I should. Wouldn't that be nice? Being cursed instead of just sort of unlovable? Sorry, no, that's mean to Gem. I shouldn't say that about Gem, she's been good this season. Super, super cursed, mind you, in the like, game mechanic sense? But she's been good, no backstabbing or inability to get love involved. Um, and I guess that's not fair to Bdubs, kind of, except it also totally is and I haven't forgiven him. So I guess if they ask I said I believed in curses, and that's why my life keeps circling clocks? Don't put any of that other stuff down, I'm trying to work on that.
Lizzie: NO RESPONSE GIVEN.
Gem: I was just cursed for a task, but that probably isn't what you're asking about, right? I'm new, so I don't know! A task is a concrete thing to believe in, like bloodshed or victory or fun and games. You don't have to believe in those to know they're real, either! They just are, whether you like it or not. I understand that much!
Tango: Gah, don't talk to me about... Deep breaths. Look, I don't care if it's a curse, or if it's just me being really bad, or what, I'm not going out pointlessly this time. Jimmy managed not to die first, I can manage to not go out to a stray arrow or my own bomb or a misstep this time, right? Is that so much to ask?
Skizz: Huh? Curses? I mean, I don't think so, and to be totally honest I think it's kind of mean the way people sometimes rag on people about them. Everyone's got so many good things about them! Why do people like to focus on the unfortunate luck, huh?
Bdubs: Hah! Curses! Let me tell you about curses. When I see curses, I eat them for breakfast. I don't got curses, I've got better things to do! I've got my buddies with the Mounders, and I've got-well, I'd say keeping Etho safe, but he's being weird at me again this season. Not that it matters. It never matters. Etho and I, we're... The point is, that doesn't matter anyway, because I have the Mounders, and they're the ones who matter here. And because I'm a strong, independent Bdubs, who doesn't need anyone but my bow and my perfect, flawless fighting prowess! Sorry, what was the question? I've been thinking so much lately that it's just sort of made everything else pop out of my head, so it's hard to keep track. I'm sure I answered it flawlessly, though.
Martyn: Of course there are curses. That's half the fun for you lot, isn't it? Putting your little curses on us and watching us rail against them. Bet you think it's real cute to ask us what we think of the things, too. "Oh, what do you think of curses," like we have any control over them. Please. If I had any control over curses, Jimmy--or, well, no, I guess that one was technically broken, wasn't it? Sure doesn't feel like it. Point is, curses are bad, and they're definitely real, and I hate you for them, got it?
BigB: Look, man, if you're trying to get me to write my character out for you, just say so! I won't tell anyone. We can come up with a hole thing about holes and red tasks and the Backrooms together! It'll be fun! After all, you probably don't know what kind of curse to say I have, right? Haha, just kidding. I have no idea what I'm talking about. Luckily, neither does anyone else, so I think that evens out between the lot of us.
Jimmy: NO RESPONSE GIVEN.
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skylarsblue · 1 year
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I still have more. More Incorrect Quotes.
(Accidentally had a lot more fem!Y/N than intended but it's overall GN!) Alex: What made you think you’d be good for the military? Y/N: I worked at a Waffle House in America. Alex: Ah, alright, that makes sense.
-- (Interrogating Valeria)
Y/N: Look, Gaz, you know me. I can't- I can't do it. Gaz: Why not? Why can't you interrogate her? Y/N: Because I'm a bisexual with mommy issues, Gaz. And she's as pretty as she is scary. I'm already not that intimidating, she'll laugh at me when I start stuttering and then I'll just be horny. It can't be me. Gaz: ....okay, I'll ask Alejandro-
-- Y/N: I just realized something...I had a bad childhood. Gaz: Yeah we know. Y/N: What do you mean you know? Soap: Look at how you stand! People who had good childhoods don't stand like that. Y/N: How do I stand?! Gaz: Like Ghost. Ghost: ...I don't appreciate the call out but fair-
-- Price: Where are you going?! Y/N: To either get ice cream or commit a felony, I'll decide in the car!
-- Ghost after watching Fem!Y/N do an incredibly risky move: I just...Is she blind?? Suffering some form of brain damage?
-- (Tw; Hollywood Undead unalive song)
Y/N: My legs are dangling off the edge, the bottom of the bottle is my only friend, I think I'll sli- Price: EXCUSE ME?! WHAT ARE YOU ON ABOUT?? Y/N: Wh- No Captain, it's just a so- Price: GHOST GET THE BASE PSYCH ON THE PHONE Y/N: CAPTAIN IT'S A SONG I'M FINE- Well I'm not bUT NO WAIT HANG ON-
-- Valeria: *screaming in spanish* Y/N: ... Gaz: Don't. Y/N, blushing: I'm trying-
-- (During movie night; watching Venom)
Y/N: *pauses on that scene where Venoms sticks his tongue out at the guy in the street* ....Hear me out- Gaz: NO! NO. Y/N: NO NO LISTEN, LISTEN- Soap: Let them speak. Gaz: Don't encourage this! Y/N, pointing at the screen: LOOK AT IT! LOOK! Objectively you have to understand- Gaz: NOOO, it eats people! Soap: THAT TONGUE IS THREE FEET LONG AT LEAST! Gaz: No, I will not be hearing anyone out! I- GHOST, Ghost, back me up. Tell them they shouldn't want to fuck the ALIEN. Ghost, looking at the screen: Ethically, it's wrong. Gaz: Thank you. Ghost: ...objectively- Y/N: AHA! SEE?!
-- Ghost: *bends over* Y/N: *silently flips out* Soap, quietly: Wh-what? What are you-?! Y/N: SHHH *grabs Soap's jaw and turns him to look* Soap: *slack jaw* Damn- Y/N: fuckingdamnindeed- Ghost: *turns around* Soap: So it's your turn to pick dinner, what're you thinking? Y/N: Oh I dunno, maybe something pork related, uh, or cake- Soap: Aha, yeah...cake. Ghost: ....??
--
Fem!Y/N: I am not the mom of 141, that's ridiculous. Someone: You make all of them lunch every day with fruit cut into shapes, IN PERSONALIZED LUNCH BOXES Fem!Y/N: They need nutrition! Someone: You color code their items- Fem!Y/N: Look, if you were there for the item mix-ups you'd understand. Someone: YOU ARE LITERALLY FOLDING AND LABELLING THEIR LAUNDRY WITH A SHARPIE ON THE TAGS. Fem!Y/N: *holding Simon's skull boxers, writing his name on the tag* That- ...oh my god I'm the mom.
-- Ghost, watching Soap run past: WHAT DO YOU HAVE?! Soap, grinning & sprinting: A FUCKIN' BOMB Ghost: NO!!!
-- Price: Y/N, this is Lieutenant Riley, you can call him Ghost. Ghost: Y/N, looking him up and down: ...you got daddy issues? Ghost: ....maybe Y/N: Cool, same. Pleasure to meet'cha, sorry life gave you shit. Ghost, shaking their hand: Ditto. Price: *concerned sigh*
-- Price, walking into the common area at 10 pm: What in the world- Gaz, Soap, and Y/N: *all in there pyjamas with face masks on, eating snacks* Y/N: *slowly keeps chewing* Gaz: ...heeeyy siiirr... Price: It was lights out an hour ago, what are you lot doing? Soap: *slowly raises another face mask* ....Self care, sir? Price: ... Ghost, walking in at midnight for water: ....what. Soap, Gaz, Price, and Y/N: *stop gossiping* Gaz: ....hey. Soap: Evenin' L.T. Y/N: Howdy. Ghost: *looks at Price with a face mask on* Ghost: ...*sighs and sits down* Pass the Goldfish. Soap: Yeaaaah, good man! Welcome to the party!
-- Shepard: Is anyone here straight?! Price: ...*hesitantly raises hand* Laswell: *pushes his hand back down*
-- Valeria: *angry ranting* Y/N, a captive: Stop being so mean to me or I swear to god I'm gonna fall in love with you!
-- Ghost: What in the hell are you doing? Y/N: Laying in the rain. Ghost: Why? Y/N: If I lay here long enough, it feels like it washes the sad away. So I'm gonna lay here until the sad is gone. Ghost: You'll get sick. Y/N: Better sick than sad, sir. Ghost: ...*looks at the sky, back down, sighs* Ghost: *lays down on the tarmac* Y/N: Got a lot of sad? Ghost: ...Yeah. Y/N: If the rain doesn't take care of it, let's trade sads. Then it'll at least be a different kind of sad. Ghost: Not sure you want my sad. Y/N: Maybe not, but I don't think you should have to handle your sad alone either. Ghost: ...alright. Y/N: Cool.
-- Price: Simon, it's three o' clock in the morning. Why on earth are you making chocolate pudding? Ghost: Because I've lost control of my life.
-- Soap, with a gunshot wound: Do I regret it? Yes. Will I do it again? Most likely.
-- Y/N after doing something so badass it would fit in a movie: ...DID EVERYONE SEE THAT?? CAUSE I WILL NOT BE DOING IT AGAIN.
-- Ghost: You kidnapped the prime minister's daughter? That's illegal! Soap: Okay, Ghost, but what's more illegal? Briefly inconveniencing the prime minister's daughter, or destroying 141? Ghost: KIDNAPPING THE PRIME MINISTER'S DAUGHTER, JOHNNY! Fem!Y/N: Do you guys have like, a water or something? Snack maybe? No?
-- Y/N: I think there's been some confusion. I'm not the one in trouble here. Enemy Soldier: ...What? Y/N: There are only four of you. You'll need more than that. Gaz, hearing it over the intercom: ...they're gonna whoop-ass but we should probably go help them.
-- Someone: Why are you doing their straps for them? Price: They don't like velcro. Someone: Just do it yourself! Y/N: I'm not touching that stuff! I'll get neurotypical cooties.
-- Y/N, high on painkillers: If yo leg get cut off, would it hurt? Soap, in a hospital bed beside them: ...DUH Y/N: How though? Soap: Cause your leg got cut off! Y/N: Where you gonna feel the pain? Soap: In your le.... Y/N: Exactly bro! How you gonna feel the pain in yo leg if- Both: If your leg is gone! Soap: Whoooaaa... Y/N: Bro I swear, we're geniuses. Ghost, on his last brain cell: Fuckin'ell.
-- Ghost, about to lose his shit: Dear lord, I know we haven't spoken in a long time but if you could give me a little patience-
-- Gaz: Do you believe in God? Y/N: ...Yes & no. Gaz: Yes & No? What do you mean? Y/N: I believe there is a higher power, I believe a God exists. But...believing in God? Now that...haven't done that in a long time.
--
Gaz & Y/N: *dancing* Ghost: Can you two be serious for five seconds? Gaz, bustin' a move: Dunno sir, can you have fun for five seconds? Y/N: *stops and looks at Gaz* Gaz: *stops and is filled with instant regret* ...uh, sir, I- Ghost: Tell you what. I'll give you five seconds...to start running- Gaz: *turns to run and sees Y/N already yards away* YOU LEFT ME?! Y/N: I WANNA LIVE!!!!
-- Ghost: What are they doing? Price: Arguing in morse code. Soap: - .... .- - .----. ... / .-- .... -.-- / -.-- --- ..- .-. / ... .... --- . ... / .-. .- --. --. . -.. -.-- Gaz: -.-- .- / -- --- -- -- .- Soap: YOU FUCKIN' TAKE THAT BACK-
-- Soap: Keep your eyes closed, I have a surpriiisee!~ Ghost: You did your paperwork? Soap: I said surprise, not miracle.
-- Y/N, on tiktok: FOR ALL YOU NASTY ASSES IN MY DMS- *shows the team* THIS IS MY TEAM. STOP SENDING MY DICK PICS OR I WILL SEND THEM AFTER Y'ALL. Ghost: You've been getting dick pics? Soap: Who the hell's been harassing you online?! Y/N: SEE?? THEY'LL WHOOP YA ASS, SO LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!
-- Y/N, on tiktok again: Alright, backfired on me. For all of y'all who are now trying to be nasty by THIRSTING for my teammates, uh, no. Stop askin' for my Captain's marital status, I'm not gonna tell you. No you may not get my teammate's dicks, I will not be giving you their social media, stOP ASKING I KNOW THEY'RE HOT BUT NO-
-- (I've fallen down the rabbit hole of Karen compilations, so, that's why I thought of this)
Y/N: Goodbye sir! Male Karen: Fuck you bitch! Go suck off your captain you fuckin' whore!! Y/N: Sure, I'll do that, goodbye! Male Karen: Suck my dick, whore! Y/N: Can't! It's too full of military dick, you'll need to make an appointment, GOODBYE!! Soap: *wheeze* Gaz: Jesus. Christ. Ghost: I told you all America is shit.
(Bonus Note cause I can't put in anywhere else; on the topic of Venom + C.o.D. I know we have Soap in place of Eddie & Ghost in place of Venom, but hear me out. Y/N! being Ghost's host and Johnny being a third part. P o l y ! A u !)
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tunafruitt · 3 months
Text
--> || ❝ I’m The Favorite! ❞
Reverse! Isekai/SAGAU || Warnings: fluff, some crack :3, gender neutral reader
[ Reverse Isekai with the genshin boys !! A day out for the first time since they were somehow transported into your world… ] [word count: 1.9k]
Character(s): NEUVILLETTE, WRIOTHESLEY, ITTO, KAEYA, DILUC, CHILDE, KAVEH, XIAO, AL HAITHAM
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“Your Grace, with all due respect… THIS ISN’T FAIR AT ALL!”
“I understand what you’re saying Venti but I can’t bring all 20-something of you outside… 8 people is already too much! An average friend group has around 3-4 people and I’m bringing double that! I promise I’ll take the rest of you out some other day.”
Hearing consecutive sighs of disappointment, you turn to look at the rest of the men. They were visibly upset. It’s not that you DON’T want to bring them all outside! Really! It’s just that some… or, most, of them have features that would stand out in a public setting. Take Gorou and Tighnari for example! Their ears could maybe be hidden for some minutes at a time using a hood or beanie, but what about their tails? Not to mention ITTO. He literally has the most red, obvious horns.
You did your best to make them look somewhat normal. Kaveh and Wanderer could pass as a normal citizen if you removed some accessories, but characters like Diluc and Neuvillette couldn’t. So it was up to you to dress them up! Yayyy!!!
No. This was NOT an easy job. Diluc’s bright red hair couldn’t be hidden no matter how hard you tried. Neuvillette’s long hair could maybe pass as normal... maybe. His horns though? I guess you’ll have to go with the “Oh! Why are they dressed like that? Well you see, my friends just left a cosplay convention a while ago. They look cool right? Yeah.” Excuse.
You gave them what you had left in your closet. What did fit them were sweats, loose pants, pajamas and some old shirts. It was odd not seeing them in their usual complex and pretty outfits. The buffer and more muscular characters looked (not surprisingly) attractive in your shirts… they were tight just around the right spots. They noticed your eyes in their direction with your face ever so slightly flushed, but decided to not say anything about it. ( THEY KNOW.)
─ִ━━ ꯭  ───ׂ─ִ─  ͜͡✿͜͡  ─ִ──ׂ──  ꯭  ━━ִ─
With the boys dressed up and ready, it was finally time to head out! The people you brought with you were: Neuvillette, Wriothesley, Kaeya, Diluc, Childe, Kaveh, Xiao and Al Haitham.
Xiao insisted on being the one to “protect you”. Denying his request felt awkward for some reason…
Kaveh had been interested in the simple and strangely large buildings cramped next to each other. You wouldn’t be so mean to deny his request to go see some of them in person right?
Al Haitham was interested about your world and wanted to learn more about it, maybe he’d find some books that weren’t all fiction and romance.
You’d feel bad if you only brought one Ragnvindr brother.. so you brought both. You also didn’t want to hear Kaeya bickering with Diluc about him going out on a “date” (it wasn’t.) with the Creator.
Neuvillette and Wriothesley look a bit intimidating so maybe they’d scare people off. Who would’ve known you’d have two scary looking men protecting and looking after you?
And Childe….. well he’s Childe. He was stuck to your hip.
You didn’t really know where to go.. The park? A restaurant? A supermarket? All of these options were a bit difficult since they’re usually filled with people. Of course, no matter where you go there’s likely to be people, but it’d be easier to not have to be completely and utterly aware of every stranger around you in fear that they might find out who the men you brought with you actually are. Your only option was to ask them if they had an idea or if they wanted to visit an area.
“Oh! Can we go to one of those food places you’ve talked about before? What is it called.. uh.. curly… curly fries..?”
“Jack in the Box. The name is Jack in the Box, Childe.” Wriothesley remembers every little thing you talked to yourself about when the only way they were able to feel you was through a screen. All of them would listen to you talk about a movie you watched, something funny that happened, or gossip that was spreading around your school or workplace. Anything.
You let out a small chuckle at their conversation. Their recommendation isn’t bad you think. All they’ve been eating is whatever you had back at home, since ordering takeout for more than 20 people would be wayyyyy too expensive.
So a fast food restaurant it is!
─ִ━━ ꯭  ───ׂ─ִ─  ͜͡✿͜͡  ─ִ──ׂ──  ꯭  ━━ִ─
The walk there was…. tedious. Childe was trying his best to not wander off, he really was! But there was so many new things he’d never seen before, so it’s not his fault. Neuvillette was probably the calmest out of everyone. He was right by your side following your lead. Maybe holding onto your arm once or twice.. on accident! (it wasn’t) Xiao was observing his surroundings a little too hard.. yeah this is all new to him, but I guess he was serious about protecting you. Though you didn’t really need it with 7 tall men around you.
“Mortals… The need for human interaction is what makes them weak.”
Diluc and Kaeya would not SHUT UP. If you passed by a bar, Kaeya would ask if he could go in, just for a second! He just wants to see how different they are from the ones in Mondstadt, really. Diluc would follow up with “You’re no better than that… that drunkard Venti.”
Kaveh would stop mid-street to look at the buildings...
“These buildings are so… long. How do they hold up so much weight? It’s impressive! What would they need so many floors for though… Why is there a man’s face as the logo in that restaurant? Oh! He’s glowing?”
“If you get ran over by one of those vehicles it’ll be your fault.”
“Huh? Al Haitham! YOUR GRACE! Wait for me!”
─ִ━━ ꯭  ───ׂ─ִ─  ͜͡✿͜͡  ─ִ──ׂ──  ꯭  ━━ִ─
The next problem was choosing what to eat. Ordering food for 8 people, not including yourself, was expensive. You knew that! But you didn’t mentally prepare for the bill.
“Oh god…”
“Your Grace? Is something wrong?”
“It’s nothing you need to worry about. Eat up! We can go somewhere else after this if you want.”
You had realized that a woman had passed by your table countless times. She was very obviously staring at the men, looking almost flustered? Oh, she must think they’re attractive.
……
SHE THINKS THEYRE ATTRACTIVE??!
Okay. Thats okay. As long as she doesn’t ask for their numb—
“Uh-uhm.. excuse me, sir. Can I have your number? Or.. just Instagram is fine too.” She was staring directly at Wriothesley. You should’ve known letting him go out in a tight shirt and loose pants would’ve attracted more people.
“Uhh.. Pardon me, ma’am. Number…? As in… prisoner number..?” The Duke had an obvious confused and conflicted look on his face.
“Huh?”
“Aha.. ha… forgive him. He’s taken! So he can’t give out his number to just anyone.”
“Oh.. S-sorry. Forgive me I’ll just— I’ll get going.“ She was very obviously embarrassed over this whole ordeal.
“What did she mean by number, your grace?”
“Don’t… don’t worry about it…”
The group of men began to eat. (Neuvillette ordered a cup of iced water and Xiao didn’t eat anything.)
“Your Grace, there’s some food on the corner of your mouth.. Here. Let me help.” As Kaeya was about to reach his hand and wipe off the food with his thumb, there was thud on the window next to your table. Huh? It’s Itto.
It’s Itto?
“WHAT THE HELL. HOW DID HE GET HERE!?” You whispered screamed as turned to Itto. Did he follow you here? Was he here this whole time????
Through the glass Itto was saying something. His voice was muffled but you could make some things out.
“Your Grace! Don’t let this… this BUFFOON touch you! I, Arataki Itto will volunteer instead!”
You let out a loud sigh. You had to go get him… imagine seeing a tall, buff man with white hair and what looks like horns with a black hoodie up against a restaurants window…
Yeah that looks weird from an outsiders view.
You signal to the rest of the men to follow you out. When you got outside you wanted to tell Itto to never do something like that again… but he looked so sad, almost like a kicked puppy.
“Sorry Your Grace… I just wanted to accompany you! I might have gotten a teenyyy tinyyyy bit distracted on the way. You never told me there was so many cool lookin’ beetles in your world! There was one that that was very small and red with black spots, probably not useful for beetle fighting though. And I also saw some… uh.. not to disrespect anyone but there was a really weird lookin’ dog..”
SIGHHHHHH. You started to wonder what would have happened if he really had gotten lost, or what if someone recognized him? The thought of losing one of the men scared you. Would you be to blame if one of them never made it back to Teyvat?
“Itto… I love you and everything, but never do something like this again. What if we never found you? What would have happened then? I think we should head back home..”
Itto was on the verge of tears. He’s had more beans thrown at him than he could count, but nothing ever hurt as much as this.
It took Itto a while to process that you had also said you loved him.
“M’ bad Your Grace.. I won’t follow you next time… but, I love you too Your Grace!!”
The men turned to him SO FAST?? Xiao was about to take his spear out, Al Haitham looked DISGUSTED. Kaveh and Childe’s jaws were wide OPEN.
“DUDE YOU CAN’T JUST SAY THAT!”
“Childe’s right, we all love Our Grace, not just you.” Diluc only said this because he wanted to be the one to say “I love you”, but you didn’t need to know that. If it was for anything else he would never agree with a harbinger.
“That doesn’t even make sense! Why can’t I love and appreciate our beloved Creator? You guys are all just mad that I, the Number One Oni, Arataki Itto, am Your Grace’s FAVORITE.”
“WHAT? NO! Your Grace is that true?”
How many sighs have you let out today? This must be a full time job because you just let out another sigh.
“No, it’s not. I love all of you equally! Don’t start any problems with each other in public, please… We should be heading home anyways. Look at the sky, the sun will set soon.”
Almost in synch, the men respond “Yes, Your Grace!”
Seeing them like this made you feel all happy and giddy… It was nice seeing them together with you in the picture. You smiled at them and they just stared. They waited for you to turn around before looking at each other almost competitively. It was clear that each and every one of them wanted you for themselves in some way.
─ִ━━ ꯭  ───ׂ─ִ─  ͜͡✿͜͡  ─ִ──ׂ──  ꯭  ━━ִ─
It was finally time to head home!!! After one long and exhausting day, you finally made it back.
The rest of the men were waiting patiently for you (Venti, Wanderer, Lyney and Heizou had to be held back by Albedo, Dainsleif and Pierro.)
“*SNIFF* AUGH.. YOUR GRACE! *SNIFF* WE MISSED YOU SO MUCH!”
“Hi, Venti… I missed you all too..” Venti’s arms were wrapped tightly around you, while he cried onto your shoulder.
“Your Grace, you’re here!” Thoma looked.. tired. Just what happened while you were gone? You decided to ask just incase.
“Hi Thoma, and everyone else. Did anything happen while me and the others were gone?” You had a gut feeling that something happened… they were unusually quiet… too quiet.
“A fight broke out between The Puppet and Cyno.”
“WHAT??”
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AAAAAHHHHHHH thank you so much for 200 notes on my last fic omg y’all got me giggling to myself and spinning in my bed stop.. First long fic!!1!1! I plan on making little comic based off of the “The Creator has a.. LOVER?!” fic with the Zhongli and Venti scene with reader!! Yayyy! I Hope u guys enjoy this AUGH it makes me so happy to see people liking my noob writing thats really just me writing my thought and daydreams ilyily
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signedkoko · 3 months
Note
SPOILERS?? MAYBE
Wife!reader waiting for Alastor in his Radio tower after the final big battle, knowing he'd go there and waiting for him there, Scolding him and angry at him, Talking about how worried they were and how they saw everything. But then it turns fluffy at the end :3
Alastor X Reader [Romantic]
In which you lost track of him during the battle, so you wait in his tower hoping he made it. Reader is female.
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The battle had been planned over the series of a day, everyone practicing and learning how to defend themselves
Being an overlord and promised watcher over the hotel, Alastor was of course given a tall order; he was to take care of Adam
While he acted as if it were nothing and swept it by as if it'd be another easy task, you weren't so confident in his abilities against such a powerful angel
Not that you didn't trust him, just that it's scary to think he'd be doing it all alone
Though you offered support, he outright refused it
" Can't have you in the way! You are just so distracting! "
Yeah right
As much as you wanted to protest, you knew he wouldn't budge on it
But as Adam parted the battle and Alastor was nowhere to be seen, you assumed the worst along with everyone else
He'd been killed so easily? Certainly not, would he really give up his life like that? Your anger boiled up in you as you fought, and it carried you past your limit until everything was rubble
While you had the chance, you quickly whisked away to his tower, which now lay broken in the soil, though still partially intact
You had to kick the door a few times before it finally broke open, having been blocked by some debris
You hoped to all gods that you'd see him in there, but it was as silent and empty as you dreaded
You figure Husk would have said something if he felt his chains come loose, though, so you crawled up into the chair which he normally sat to broadcast and waited
And waited
Until finally, your looped prayer was answered when he came limping through the hatch
You could tell he was panicking or overwhelmed; you weren't entirely sure what, but you scrambled towards him
" Alastor! You're okay- "
" Get away from me. "
You stopped in your tracks, staring at him with bewilderment
He'd never sounded like that, especially not towards you, it frustrated you beyond belief that he refused you at a time like this
" No, no! I thought you died out there! All because you thought you could handle things on your own when you clearly cannot! "
Hot tears welled in the corner of your eyes, the silence only intruded by creaking, and the sound of your hissing breaths
It took him a moment, but the overlord straightened himself out, a shaky breath leaving his lips as he soaked in your reply
It wasn't fair of him to say that to you, and you were right, but something in him felt so shaky; his smile felt more forced than ever; he felt as if his wings had been clipped
" Dearest, you know me better than anyone, but unfortunately, there are things I cannot tell you—even if I want to. "
You knew he was bound by someone and chained, and as he spoke with such a lost desperation, you couldn't help but cry harder as the guilt consumed you
" I'm just glad you're alive. "
While you stood with what felt like an infinite space between you, the crackle in the air started to come back to him, which followed with his arms reaching out to you
You found yourself burying yourself in them, clinging to his shirt until your knuckles strained, and you cried
With no one else around to witness it, he wrapped his arms around you, ensuring you were secure
He'd do whatever it took to find a way out, so he could promise you an eternity by his side
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Author's Note - Finally got to your req 🖤 Its so lovely to see you in my inbox, Lilith!! Thank you for requesting 🥂
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unreliablesnake · 5 months
Text
Big reputation (Simon Riley x reader)
Summary: You got injured on the field and now Ghost feels bad. Well, maybe it's not just guilt...
Note: The people have spoken. Soft!Ghost. Fluff. Short story.
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In your previous team you managed to enrage a general that you shouldn’t have, and apparently kicking you out of your comfortable position was his way of punishing you. So now you came to meet your new team at the base, already having ideas of who’s who based on rumors circulating in the military. 
There was Price who was fair and relatively calm, Gaz who was loyal to the fault and was a surprisingly nice guy in general once he warmed up to you, and you couldn’t forget about Soap–whose call sign you found utterly ridiculous–who was a big mouthed but reportedly funny Scotsman. 
And then there was Ghost, the man who was a mystery to most. No one has seen his face from the people you talked to about the team, and you had a feeling you wouldn’t get to see it either. But that was okay. Him being a big and scary guy wearing a skull mask that every single person was terrified of was more than enough to make you cautious around him.
Fast forward to four months later, when Ghost became your shadow after a fucked up mission where you got hurt. It happened under his watch so he was probably blaming himself, but he never really gave you a reason why he was always near you. Soap was the one who mentioned him possibly feeling guilty, and since you had no better idea, you believed it to be true.
The big scary guy didn’t seem so scary anymore. He was more like a loyal guard dog that followed you everywhere and scared off people you didn't want to be around.
“You should go to bed, it’s late,” he said one evening after a briefing.
It was only the two of you in the room, everyone had left already, but he was going through some reports before taking them to Price. You let out a sigh and leaned forward to rest your elbows on your thighs as you observed him. He had left the room before, but after it emptied and it was only you in there, he came back with the files. Out of nowhere. Without a warning. He mumbled something about needing a quiet place, but that was a terrible excuse considering he had his room to go to.
For some reason he glanced over at you every once in a while, watching you as if there was something he wanted to say to you. But every time your eyes met, he returned his attention to the papers in front of him. He didn’t speak up and you weren’t about to bother him with questions. Ghost was usually pissed if someone asked too many questions, this is how Soap got burned a few times in the past. 
Then something changed. He closed the folder and turned his attention to you again, this time not shying away from making it obvious he was staring. You raised an eyebrow in question, hoping he would say something, but he remained silent. With a groan you stood up and walked over to him, gently pushing the folder away so you could sit on the edge of the desk next to the lieutenant. 
His hand inched closer, just enough to let his little finger brush your thigh. “It’s late,” he repeated his previous statement. 
“I’m not sleepy,” you replied with a shrug. “Why have you been watching me like this? Did I do something wrong?”
“No.”
“Then?”
Ghost sighed under the mask and pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He was toying with it for a few moments, his eyes focused on the item instead of you. “You’re causing me quite a few sleepless nights, Rabid,” he muttered as he pulled out a cigarette from the box. He called you by the nickname that awful general had given you a few months back, and you knew he never did that without a good reason. 
What were you supposed to say to that? I’m sorry? No, that wouldn’t be right. So you chose to be careful with your next words. “You can’t sleep?” you asked him, genuinely interested. 
“Not when all I can think about is you and what I’ve done to you,” he replied quietly. 
“Why, what have you done to me?”
He shook his head, mumbled something like ‘fuck it’, then pulled his mask to his nose and lit the cigarette. You couldn’t help but smile at the thought of him getting in trouble for this. Price would be angry, because he believed if he could refrain from lighting a cigar indoors, so could others. So now that Ghost was inhaling the smoke with closed eyes, you didn’t know what to do or say. He would eventually speak up, right? 
Just when you were beginning to think he wouldn’t talk to you, his amber eyes landed on you and he said, “I sent you in there. You got hurt because of me.”
Soap had been right, he really did blame himself. Interesting. “Ghost, that wasn’t your fault,” you assured him. “Shit happens, it comes with the job. Don’t blame yourself.”
His free hand moved to take yours in his, and his long, thick, and gloved fingers wrapped around it gently. “I’m not blaming myself for you getting hurt, I know it comes with the job. I just can’t stop thinking about the what ifs. What if you died? What if you got so injured you would be discharged from the force? What if you were mad at me? What if you left me behind?” This last one made you raise an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you haven’t considered this after what happened,” he told you. 
“Never thought about leaving you behind,” you admitted. “You would mind? If I left and we never met again, I mean.”
Instead of answering, he raised your hand to his lips. “You and me… That would be quite a conversation, wouldn’t it? With your reputation and mine… Well,” he said, and you could see the shining in his eyes that gave away he was smiling. 
It took you a minute to realize he was talking about the two of you being in a romantic relationship. He was right, this would be huge. You were also a lieutenant, he wasn’t your superior, but people feared you both for different reasons. Ghost was… Ghost. All he had to do was stare at someone for five seconds and they would run away screaming. You, on the other hand, were feared because you were unpredictable. One wrong word and you would be at the poor bastard’s throat. 
So yeah. If there was anything to know, people wouldn’t shut up about it. You wondered if he was aware of the bets recruits were making about you. If there was anyone from base you slept with, it would be Ghost according to most of them. Maybe they were right. Maybe that was bound to happen. But maybe Ghost was taking part in the bet for fun. 
“I don’t care about that bet,” he suddenly spoke up. You were terrified for a moment since you had no idea how he figured out what you were just talking about. “I care about you. Would you mind if I kissed you?” 
You were too stunned to respond, all you could think about was the fact he dared to ask you this. You weren’t that close, not with him keeping a comfortable distance all the time. “Right now? Yeah, I would mind. Let’s just get to know each other first, yeah? Maybe over a drink.”
Ghost placed a soft kiss on your hand. “Anything you want,” he told you with a smile before pulling down the mask and getting rid of the remains of his cigarette. 
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Text
A kiss amidst the bookshelves
pairing: Remus x reader
word count: 2k
tags / description: friends to lovers, first kiss, steamy kiss, bookish Remus and reader, best friend Sirius, friendship fluff, romance fluff, gn
“You look like you’re about to murder him,” Sirius snarks, falling into the sofa next to you amidst the noise of the party surrounding you, following your gaze across the room.
“I…” you begin your routine protesting but give it up. He raises an eyebrow expectantly, surprised. 
“You…?”
An exasperated sigh, then, “I… it… ugh,” you drop your face into your palms and speak into them, “Murder would simplify things.” Sirius barks a laugh in response. 
“Do you want an accomplice in offing our best mate?” His smile is conspiratorial, but there’s something in his eyes behind his typical teasing tone. 
“Would you mind? I don’t know if I can go through with it,” you joke seriously. “If you do the killing part, I promise I’ll help hide the body.” Sirius, smiling but knowing, pulls you into him, his arm around your shoulders, your head coming to rest on him. 
“To be fair, that would probably be the more difficult part,” he continues, and he feels your chuckle against his chest. “I know I can take him, but our Moony is pretty tall; it might pose a problem when we have to move him after.”
An affirmative “hm” is all you offer in response, basking in his warm comfort silently for a moment. 
“Or…” he cuts the quiet. “And hear me out here, love. I know homicide will seem the more appealing option initially… but you could, you know, tell him how you feel.” 
“Murder. I choose murder,” you deadpan.
“Y/NNN,” he whines with the tinge of a scold. 
“Siriusss,” you mimic childishly. 
He sighs and says, “Darling, I know it’s scary,” he squeezes you, “but your miserable pining is seriously starting to bum me out. I don’t know how much more I can take honestly.” You pull away from him and shove his shoulder as he chuckles. “Alright, alright, sorry. I suppose I’m slightly concerned for your happiness as well.” The energy between you shifts palpably. You don’t get this side of Sirius much, and the gravity of it shakes you. 
“I can’t,” you whisper, looking down. 
“You can,” he responds immediately, gently pushing your chin up, his thumb stroking your jaw. 
“Everything alright?” a third voice, achingly familiar, startles you. You rush to wipe the ghosts of tears before turning to where he’s taking a seat on the arm of the sofa, looking down at you and Sirius. 
“All good, mate,” Sirius answers before you have to, and you grin gratefully at him. 
“Sure?” Remus checks, looking straight at you, feigning levity.
“Yeah, ‘course,” you say lightly. “How’s Mary doing?” you ask, nodding to where he had just been chatting enthusiastically to her across the room. You’d always suspected they’d had feelings for each other back in your school days. “Good, good,” he nods. “We were just catching up, hadn’t seen her in a while. I might show her the shop next week actually. Think she’ll enjoy it.” You stomach sinks at this. “Oh yeah?” you hear the strain in your voice, your efforts at hiding your dismay clearly failing. So you quickly add, “That’s great, Rem. I’m sure she’ll love it.” Remus — the Remus that can read you like a children’s book — squints his eyes a bit at you, confused by your tension, probably still pondering the moment he interrupted between you and Sirius. 
The shop. Your shop. Your favourite place on Earth. A place you thought of as yours and his. I mean, it was, technically, but you know. You’d opened the bookshop together about a year ago now, and business was tough but picking up. Though you weren’t making much money (yet, hopefully), you and Remus were the happiest you’d been in years, finally doing something both of you found joy in, and together no less.
“Speaking of,” you start, stretching. “I have some work I wanted to finish, so I think I’m going to get going.” “Now?” he asks in disbelief. “It’s late, love. I don’t remember there being anything urgent?”
“No, I know; it’s not.” You get up a bit awkwardly. Standing in front of where he’s perched on the sofa, you’ve gone from looking up at him to down. He really is beautiful from any angle, you think to yourself. You realize you’re staring; you don’t know how strangely, but you see he’s looking expectantly at you, curiousity gleaming in his deep brown eyes. “Urgent, I mean,” you stutter out. “It’s just that inventory I’ve been trying to finish up.” 
“You can do that tomorrow,” he tries. “I’ll help.” “No, it’s alright, Rem, really. I just feel like it now.” You smile a strained smile with fake ease but real warmth. Then, shaking off the heaviness of the moment, you give him a quick hug, turn to give Sirius a quick peck on the cheek goodbye, and head out. 
You like the shop at night, when it’s empty and quiet. Well, sometimes it’s empty during the day as well, to be honest, but there’s something about the night and the blanket the darkness provides. You especially like it when Remus is there with you, but it’s nice when you’re alone too. Just you and the books and the sense that the shelves that envelop you hold endless possibilities and infinite feelings you can just melt into. 
You walk down the cramped aisles for a few minutes, your eyes and your fingertips tracing the titles. When you stumble on a comforting favourite, you pull it down, and nestle into one of the two inviting armchairs you and Remus had set up in a cosy corner of the small space. 
If it were any other activity, you would have been shocked at how quickly you were immersed, leaving the heaviness of your love and your worries in the real world to be picked up again on your way out. You are shocked, however, when, as you flip a page, a low voice says, “Hard at work I see.” 
You jump, dropping the book, and screech, “Fucking hell, Remus! What the fuck? You scared the shit out of me.” He’s laughing like he can’t help himself as he kneels down in front of you to pick up the book, holding it in one hand and holding the other up in a gesture of guilty surrender. “Sorry. I’m sorry,” he chuckles. “It’s not like I was quiet coming in.”
“Well, I didn’t hear you,” you shoot angrily. “Clearly.” He’s grinning as he offers you the book. “Good choice,” he adds, giving it a little shake.
“Yeah, well, it’s comforting every time.” Your tone is easier now but still a little edgy as you grab the book and place it on the little table beside you. 
“Hm.” He sounds serious; it makes you turn to him instinctively; you look into his concerned eyes. “And why did you need comforting this time?” His voice is a syrupy whisper, and his question makes time stand still.  
Because I love you too much, you idiot, you think but don’t say. “I’m fine,” you do say. 
“You’re not,” he responds. You look away.
“I’m fine enough.” 
“Can you please tell me what’s wrong?” he pleads, putting his hand on your knee. “You’ve been weird all night.” “Don’t deny it,” he adds when you open your mouth to say something immediately. It’s not harsh. You close your mouth again, but don’t know what to say instead. 
“Did something happen?” he prods after several moments. You stay silent, but tears well in your eyes, transfixed on his. He whispers your name lovingly and brings his other hand to your cheek, stroking gently. You nod before you can think yourself out of it. “I messed up, Rem,” you whisper. “When?” he asks, all kindness. After a mirthless chuckle you say, “Around when we were twelve I think. Maybe even eleven.” His thumb stops its comforting motion in his confusion; his eyebrows are furrowed; one side of his mouth seems conflicted about whether to laugh or not. “I don’t understand,” he says finally.
“It’s your fault, really,” you half-laugh, wiping your eyes. “What?” He tenses and pulls away from you, concern elevated to fear in his eyes and voice.
“I didn’t mean,” you start, leaning forward and grabbing his hands in yours. “That’s not what I meant.” Your voice is still tinged in a cynical snicker, but he’s clearly not amused.
“What did you mean then?” It’s sharper, and it hurts. 
“I…” Another chuckle. “Y/N,” losing patience. 
“Fuck, this is hard.” You take your hands back and cover your face with them, kneading in frustration. A beat. He says your name again, just as firm but much more gentle, and reaches for your hands, holding them again. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. I thought you knew that. We can work through anything, together… but you have to talk to me. Did I do something?”
You look back and forth between his eyes, hear Sirius’s voice in your head: “you can,” and take a deep breath.
“You can tell me,” he repeats, and you believe him… but can’t bring yourself to it. 
“I can’t,” you whisper, and you hate the familiar sound of it in your ears. You see his posture sink in defeat, but he doesn’t let go of your hands. 
“Can I show you instead?” you ask, terrified of what came next, but more terrified of never finding out. He nods eagerly and goes to stand up, but you squeeze his hands tighter and hold him in place. He settles back down where he’s knelt in front of you, staring at you intently. You shift to the edge of the chair, quite close to him now. One of your hands releases his and comes up toward his face. You hear him gasp as you run your fingertips along his cheekbone then along a prominent scar there. You keep going and run your fingers through his hair then let your hand rest there, on the back of his head among his soft brown curls. You look down at his lips. Your gaze lingers there, making your intention obvious as you move even closer to him. He’s stock-still as you approach, but when your nose touches his, he lunges hungrily forward to meet you. 
He moans into your mouth as his arms wrap tightly around your waist, and yours comes up around his shoulders. Your chests are flush now, your legs open wider to accommodate his kneeling form in between them, leaning into you completely, devouring you. His lips work against yours, exploring; his hands, intent but indecisive, travel from pulling you close to holding your face firmly against his, his thumbs lovingly pushing into your jaw, his fingers wrapped in your hair. You immediately fall into a rhythm, opening your mouths to each other. He tastes like chocolate, and you giggle at the realization. Remus instinctively smiles at the sound of your laughter and the slight withdrawal from your mouth gives him the opportunity to trail away from your lips, slowly along your jaw, down to your neck, licking and lingering. You bare your neck to him, your breathing coming more heavily now, your grasp on him tighter. You grip his hair and croon his name, and he moans loudly. He gives your neck a final, wet kiss and pulls back to look at you.
His eyes are dark and lidded; his lips swollen and moist; his hair is messy, and the look on his face is one you’ve never seen before. He looks giddy and lustful simultaneously. Pulling your face to his with a hand at your nape, he rests his forehead against yours and gives you a hungry kiss, fast but firm. He chuckles. 
“I still don’t understand.” “What?” you smile. 
“How is this a problem?” His thumb is caressing you; his smile is beaming. 
“I didn’t know if you felt it too,” you confess. 
A teasing tsk then, “Quite daft for the cleverest person I know.” He brings your mouth to his again. 
~
smutty pt. 2!
1K notes · View notes
love-bitesx · 11 months
Note
im word vomiting my headcanon list and id love to hear what you think!
*hobie gifting things that he finds to his partner like a crow. i can imagine they'd just randomly turn up, either on a desk or like they'll just find it in their bag or pocket, or that he'd just walk of and just hand it to them with no word *hobie fell for his partner hard, though he kept it pretty well hidden from everyone except pav starts calling his 'loverboy', eventually the nickname catches on to the point his future partner starts using it as well(either b/c they like it and thay're oblivious or they know exactly whats going on and are teasing him about it) *loves playful banter *nicknames for daaaaaays with his partner *hobie getting serious with a partner would be him gifting them something important, first thoughts are either a guitar pick of his or one of his favorite rings (its the most worn one he has, a simple metal one that you can literally feel the love thats gone into it. somehow it fits his partners finger perfectly)

i may be back with more, until then i salute you!
i agree with ur hc’s so much!! this is how i hc & tend to write hobie so, 100%! pls don’t hesitate if u think of anymore hehe
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i’d love to expand! ~
- giving you gifts, to him, is like the ideal expression of love.
- because basically all of them are stolen, it’s a combination of his favourite things; stealing from big corporations, and seeing the beaming, heart-warming smile on your face when you open your bag and see a tiny trinket wrapped in newspaper.
- everytime you would come home, you’d find a new little addition to the house somewhere – notably: necklaces, rings, tiny ceramic statues or wooden decorations, pens, music (cd’s, vinyls, etc.) – especially if he’s been to camden market that day, his pockets would be full for you.
- when he started to fall for you, he low-key thought he was coming down with the flu.
- whenever you were around, his heart would flutter, his head dizzy and palms sweating – he considered getting medicine, until pavitr pointed something out.
- “how are you, loverboy?”
- “eh? you talking to me, pav?”
- “of course, hobie! little loverboy”
- “did you hit your head, bro?”
- pavitr would explain that he’d noticed hobie’s eyes glued to you whenever you spoke, hanging onto every word like gospel, and the way he flustered when you touched him, how he’d do anything in his power to be in your personal space.
- “shit.”
- “no! this is a good thing, my friend! love is the most bea—”
- “shit.”
- days went past of hobie avoiding you, he’d never been in love before, and it was scary to him
- his brain was only thinking of you, and he hated that he liked it. he hated that he wished for every thought to be of you.
- and he hated that he could see your body deflate when he avoided you, hated that your eyes looked sad when he turned away
- he hated that he liked loving you
- until, you caught him on his own one day, he was minding his business, relaxing on his lonesome whilst the others hung out in different dimensions.
- “hey, loverboy”
- a deer in headlights wouldn’t even come close to the shock on his face
- “loverboy?”
- loverboy? you were calling him loverboy?
- “yeah, loverboy, that’s you, isn’t it?”
- in all fairness, you were completely oblivious to the reason behind it – pav had simply just started calling him it when hobie wasn’t around, and it stuck
- “i-i guess so”
- clearing his throat, he willed his confidence back to the surface
- “you can call me anything you want, sweetheart”
- it wasn’t long before you were together, a gentle, but spontaneous kiss after a particularly dangerous mission one day sealing the deal between you both
- he was obsessed with you
- now he could be obvious about his feelings, he took that and ran with it
- his arm was essentially glued to your side, or over your shoulders, or anywhere where he could pull you in close to him
- he’d grab you by the belt buckles, dragging you towards him and welcoming you with a soft peck on the lips
- even in public, almost especially in public
- always have his hands in your back pockets, he says he hates the cliché-ness of it but he likes that he can hold you close whilst respecting your personal space – and he can feel your ass, but he doesn’t admit that outloud
- THE NICKNAMES.
- THE. NICKNAMES.
- this man is born and bred british, and over here we use nicknames more than actual names
- darling, sweetheart, love, lovely, all of those AND more are natural to him, anyway
- but he adds a special little “my” before them all now, now that you actually are his, and so “my darling”, “my love”, etc. are like a second name to you
- in bed, the nicknames would be even better, but i’ll leave that to your imagination…
- when things started getting a little serious, you’d been dating for months, all your friends and colleagues knew about him, your family as well (if you decide to tell them)
- you’re relaxing in hobie’s dimension, laying on his bed with your head on his shoulder, reading a book whilst he strums at his guitar softly. he’s humming a song you don’t recognise, but the sound of his deep melody was enough to lull you.
- “hey, love?”
- you hum in response
- “i wanna give you something.”
- sitting you up, he’d lay his guitar down and face you, grabbing your hand and bringing it to him
- “what are you—”
- he’d fiddle with his own hands for a second, before twisting his favourite ring off his index finger
- “here.”
- “hobie, are you—”
- “i’m not proposing, don’t worry. weddings are just a social nuisance that give us one more way to control each other. no. this is better.”
- you tilt your head and watch him, as he slides his ring onto your middle finger
- “it’s just a promise.”
- “a promise?”
- “a promise that i love you, and that i’m yours, innit.”
- “oh, hobie.”
- you cry a tiny bit
- and he hugs you tightly, kissing your forehead
- that’s when he knew it was serious with you, not only because of how he was so obsessed with you, and his heart melted at your touch, but because when he saw you with the ring on, his ring, his person, it just felt right. he didn’t ever wanna see you without it, or without him.
- “hey, hobie, did you mean what you said about marriage? you don’t wanna marry me one day?”
- “hey, i said i hate weddings. nothing about marriage. not if we do it our own way, you know?”
i love him so much. also pls stick around, couple of one shots & fics will be out this week!!! sorry they’re taking ages hehe
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freedomfireflies · 6 months
Text
Tease Me*
Summary: An extra for Teach Me*
The one where you and your best friend, Harry, are invited to a Haunted House.
But ghosts aren’t the only fun thing about this party.
(For my non-spooky besties, the house isn't actually haunted! Just old and abandoned! There are no jump scares💞)
Word Count: 9.5k
Content Warning: 18+, smut, slight exhibitionism, Daddy kink, masturbation, creampie, slight breeding kink, fluff, subspace, Harry being a simp
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“Holy…shit.”
The large mansion looms into view. A tall, skeletal structure that’s brightened by the soft glow of the full moon. Hidden behind tall pines and a collection of dancing shadows, it stands like a sentinel of forgotten secrets. Ivy drips from the rotting wood, and boards cover a majority of the windows. The once grand façade bearing the scars of time.
You can see a collection of breathtaking stained glass windows lining the top story of the house. You can’t exactly make out the artwork from this distance, but you know, undoubtedly, that they’re beautiful. Only imagining what those reflections might look like in the sunlight.
The car sneaks along the gravel driveway, the sound of rocks and crunching leaves following you every inch of the way. You feel your breath hitch as you glance over toward Harry, who returns your look with a cocked brow of his own.
He pulls up next to the only other car on the lot. Rather, the only other car for miles. From the passenger seat, you can see Charlie, Jackie, and Caleb all huddled around the hood, conversing in hushed voices, and waving at you both in greeting.
Harry shifts into park before leaning back in his seat to turn his attention to you. “Well?”
You suck in a quiet breath before nodding once. “It’s…spooky.”
“Mhm.”
“And…big.”
“Thanks, but I meant the house,” he replies cooly, and you can’t help but grin.
“Funny. Honestly, I don’t think this is what I was expecting.”
“No?” He considers this with a nod of his own. “I guess it’s more ugly than scary. Caleb said he used to come here all the time when he was a kid. His brother claimed it was haunted.”
“Ooo,” you tease, and Harry smirks. “Do you believe in ghosts?”
He lifts a shoulder in a nonchalant shrug. “I don’t ever really think about it.”
“That’s fair.”
Now his expression twists into something more mischievous as he leans closer to you. “But…if any ghosts come out and try to steal you from me, I have no problem sending ‘em back to the afterlife.”
You laugh again as you playfully swat your hand across his arm before surging forward to kiss him. “You’re an idiot, baby.”
“Yeah. But m’your idiot.”
“Unfortunately.”
He laughs.
With that, you both unbuckle your seatbelts and step out of the car, joining your friends just beside the front steps of the mansion. 
“Well, well, well,” Charlie grins, nodding his chin at the two of you. “Can’t believe you actually showed. Thought Har-Bear wasn’t into Halloween.”
Harry offers another shrug; relaxed but amused. “I’m not. But I wouldn’t mind seeing you get the shit scared out of you.”
Charlie’s expression falls while the rest of you laugh. “Okay, funny. Hysterical. Caleb’s the one that pissed himself when he was here last.”
“I was ten, dipshit,” Caleb snorts. “And I didn’t piss myself, I just screamed a little.”
“Right,” Jackie teases, nudging him with her elbow. “Whatever you say, champ.”
Caleb’s eyes roll, but he’s smiling as the five of you begin to make your way up onto the porch. “You’ll see. It’s spooky.”
“I’m sure we will, bud,” Charlie replies, tossing him a wink. “And after you go running back to the car in tears, we’ll make sure to lock up for you.”
“Thanks.”
“Welcome.”
With a soft laugh, Harry looks over at you. “You scared, Bee?”
“Me? Scared?” you snort. “Never.”
“Good.” He tosses his arm around your shoulder and tugs you into his chest. “Nothing to be scared of while I’m here.”
The other two boys pretend to be annoyed while Jackie offers you both a cheeky grin. “You guys are sickeningly sweet.”
“Oh, we know,” Harry answers impishly, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I mean, I do a majority of the heavy lifting. But Bee’s pretty cute, too, I suppose.”
“Hysterical,” you deadpan, using your elbow to shove him away as you all approach the front door.
Your little group slows to a stop, exchanging glances and deep breaths as Caleb slowly says, “…are you ready?”
The air is laced with anticipation and excitement, and the four of you nod before his hand outstretches for the door.
 It opens with a shrill screech as a flock of birds fling from their spot on a nearby branch and take off into the ghostly night sky. 
With a deep breath, Caleb leads you all into the house, head held high, and shoulders back. The mansion is dark and the floorboards creak beneath your sneakers. The air is musky and cobwebs drape from each corner of the doorframe.
Quicky, you all search for your cellphones and flashlights, flipping them on to illuminate the path before you. Revealing a bit more of the corridor as you make your way inside.
“Shit,” Charlie murmurs, eyes wide as his focus flicks from wall to wall. “All right, maybe you weren’t kidding.”
“Told you,” Caleb retorts, peeking his head into the first room. “It’s not exactly scary, but it is cool as hell.”
“No kidding,” Jackie chimes in while you nod. “How many rooms are there?”
“No idea. But there are at least three levels. Plus, the attic, but Zac and I could never figure out how to get up there.”
“I’ll find it,” Charlie declares confidently, and Harry shoots you a knowing smirk. “What? If anyone can, it’s me.”
“I’m sure,” Caleb huffs, slipping in to what looks to be the drawing room. “By all means, go ahead. Honestly, we can split up and check out the other rooms. There’s a lot of cool shit here.”
Charlie nods once, running the light from his phone down one of the walls. Examining the faded wallpaper and dust-covered picture frames.
With a cock of his brow, Harry leans closer, nudging his shoulder against yours. “What do you say? Wanna do some exploring?”
You grin eagerly, nodding as well. “Yeah. Maybe we’ll find the attic first.”
You catch Charlie’s frown out of the corner of your eye, but the five of you can’t help but laugh as Harry leads you toward the next hallway.
The group disperses, with Charlie and Jackie searching the kitchen, Caleb ascending the stairs to the second floor, and you and Harry beginning for some of the bedrooms. 
The house is quiet. Eerily so, with only the sound of your footsteps to accompany you. And even with two flashlights, you can only see a portion of the narrow hallway at a time. From the wooden trim to the chipped paint. 
You fall in line behind Harry’s taller frame, allowing him to guide you toward the furthest room as he strides with a confidence you envy. Unaffected by the sounds, and smells, and ghostly aurora. 
“You all right back there, Bee?” he calls after a moment more of your silence. Seeming to catch your strained inhales and lack of commentary. “Still with me?”
“Yes,” you whisper, but it’s airy. As though your voice has been swept away by the hands of a ghost. “Just…trying not to trip.”
Even without seeing the full of his face, you can tell he’s smiling. “Come on, lovey, you know I’d catch you.”
“Uh-huh,” you murmur, lashes fluttering as you glance up toward the old chandelier dangling from the tall ceiling.
Suddenly, Harry stops, forcing you to catch yourself against him before he glances at you. “Hop on.”
Confused, you blink. “What?”
“Hop on,” he repeats, placing his cellphone between his teeth while crouching down. Allowing you access to his back in an invitation to climb up.
And once you finally understand, you can’t help but smile. Slipping your arms around his shoulders before hoisting yourself onto his body. Legs curling around his hips while his hands reach back to keep you sturdy.
Once you’re settled, you gently pull the phone from between his lips and aim the fluorescent gleam across the room. Providing him a bit more light to see as he straightens up.
“Thank you, baby,” he hums. “You all right?”
“Mhm. Are you?”
“Very. Just make sure to hold on, yeah?”
You grin a bit wider and tuck your chin over his shoulder. “Promise.”
With that, he begins down the hall, keeping his fingers tight around your ankles. “All right, baby dove, where do you wanna go first?”
Vaguely, you gesture toward the closest room. From the small sliver your light catches, you can see that it’s filled with large curtains and furniture draped in cloth. It looks…reminiscent. Calling to you and inviting you to step inside a lost era, a forgotten memory. 
He carries you closer, and as he strides through the murky corridor, you use the height advantage to look around. Taking in the more subtle details of the old house.
The hand railing beside the staircase. The broken floor beneath you. The cracked light fixtures and dusty bookshelves. 
You can’t imagine the life that was lived. The parties they threw, the elegance that sang from every corner, the memories that were created.
You wonder about the people who built it. Wonder what they were like, what made them leave. If they ever reminisce about the old house they used to call home.
“It’s beautiful,” you find yourself saying, exhaling the sentiment almost fondly.
Harry hums again, eyes trailing across the expanse of the carpet underneath his shoes. “Shame nobody ever bought it and fixed it up.”
“Yeah,” you agree quietly. “Maybe we should.”
He smiles at this, squeezing your legs a bit tighter. “Oh, yeah?”
“Mhm. Wouldn’t it be fun? A little passion project?”
“Maybe. Don’t know what we’d do with all this space, though.”
You shrug. “Well, we’d have plenty of room to storm off if we got into a fight.”
He laughs. “Yeah?”
“And we’d have plenty of places for…you know, other things.”
“Other things,” he repeats knowingly, glancing back with a smirk. “I do love our other things.”
You snuggle closer. “And if we ever wanted to start a family…we’d have room for that, too.”
He’s quiet now, his tongue slowly sweeping across his bottom lip in thought. “D’you think about our family, Bee?”
“I do,” you admit, almost sheepishly. “Sometimes. Not, like…right away, or anything. But…I just wonder, I guess. What you’d be like. What we’d be like.”
“Yeah? And how are we?”
“We’re good,” you tell him. “You’re the fun parent. Of course. And I’m the one that makes them do their homework and eat their veggies.”
He grins. “Of course.”
“And they have your hair. Lots of curls, very wild.”
“Mm.”
“And they love to sing. They aren’t good at it…but they love it.”
He laughs a bit louder this time, head shaking as he brushes his thumbs across the exposed skin of your ankles. “Sounds about right.”
“And we’re really happy,” you finish tenderly. “And we have two dogs, and one cat. And nothing changes between us. We’re still us, and we still love each other a lot, and we still go on tons of adventures and have really good, wild sex.”
He’s smiling so hard, you can see his dimples. “I wouldn’t want anything less.”
“Me, either.”
You fall silent as Harry finally brings you both into the large room, ducking beneath the frame to make sure you don’t hit your head. You kiss the side of his jaw gratefully before he sets you down with a gentle plop, allowing you both to straighten up and take a look around.
Sizable paintings hang from each wall. Encased behind gold, elegant frames that are layered with a light film of dust. Even still, the artwork is breathtaking. Portraits of what look to be great men and women. Soft brush strokes that are wildly vivid, despite the many years stuck in this dark room.
Harry takes his flashlight from you and aims it toward the green, velvet sofa in the middle of the vast space. Eyes wide as he studies it. “A lot of this stuff is in better shape than I thought it’d be.”
You make a noise of agreement as you gingerly run your fingers along the faded wallpaper. “I wonder what made them leave this all behind?”
“I don’t know. S’probably worth a fortune.”
“And it’s still here? Nobody came and looted it?”
He sports a rather charmed grin at your choice of wording. “Guess not. Kind of strange, honestly. City never reclaimed it, either.”
“Yeah…”
He glances over, a mischievous glint behind the soft green. “Maybe there’s a reason.”
“What?”
The corner of his mouth quirks up. “Maybe…the ghosts won’t let it go.”
Finally understanding his joke, you roll your eyes with a snort before striding toward the giant bookshelf. “Ha, ha.”
“Maybe the owners died in the fifties,” he continues, dropping his voice to a lower drawl. Attempting to add a bit of mystique and suspicion. “Maybe they were murdered in cold blood. And they never found out who killed them, so they haunt the grounds of their old house. Until the day their killer dares to come back.”
You pretend to be intrigued, nodding along with faux fascination. “Uh-huh. Which makes us…what? Ghost bait?”
“Mmm…perhaps,” he murmurs, stalking toward you. “Perhaps that’s why Caleb really brought us here. To feed us to his ancestors. Appease the Halloween Gods.”
“Right.”
He closes the distance between you, angling the beam of his light up toward his face as dark shadows dance across his features. “Or maybe Caleb isn’t Caleb at all. Maybe…he’s a ghost—”
Suddenly, he jolts forward, making you gasp as you steel yourself from the sudden movement. Eyes wide and heart racing.
But once you realize he’s merely messing with you, you begin to glare. Scoffing, “God, you’re an ass.”
He drops his cellphone and beams at you. Much too smug with his victory. “Sorry. Couldn’t resist.”
“Yeah, well, maybe I won’t resist drop kicking your ass out that window.”
“Fair enough,” he chuckles, peering down at you with a delicate look of adoration before he’s pressing his lips to yours. “Forgive me?”
You try to pout into the kiss, but he’s too good. Warm and soft and the definition of comfort. “Hm. Fine. Just this once.”
He offers one final peck before returning to his search. Hands sweeping along the grimy bookshelves, fingers trailing down the broken spines. He seems lost in thought, and you watch almost fondly as he reaches out for one particular title.
“Frankenstein,” he reads aloud, tilting it back with a smile. “Used to be my favorite growing up.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. My mom used to read it to me all the time.”
And you feel this undeniable tug on your heartstrings as you settle behind him, arms slipping around his middle. “What did you like about it?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know. I guess I liked the idea of something so…broken being so beautiful. Or maybe it was just the idea of how he was built. And why. You know?”
“Yeah. I think it’s sweet you liked it so much. You never told me.”
“I mean, I stopped reading it as I got older. I think I just liked the way my mom read it to me. She’d do all these voices, try to freak me out.”
You laugh. “Yeah, that sounds like her.”
“It was great. I loved it. S’probably one of my favorite memories growing up.”
And there’s that yanking in your chest again. “You’re cute, you know that?”
He smirks. “Thanks.”
With that, he releases the book, allowing it to fall back into place on the shelf beside the other novels.
But, the moment it lands, a startling and rather jarring rumble explodes from somewhere behind you. Compelling a jump as you both spin around in search for the offending sound.
And there, just beside the old grandfather clock that sits near the door, hangs one of the large paintings. This one of a beautiful woman wearing a stunning, purple grown and a coy smile. Yet, her portrait is moving. Sliding across the wall as if by magic until you’re able to see what lies behind.
A passageway. 
You suck in a gasp as you and Harry both shine your lights into the dark opening. Finding nothing more than a narrow stairway that disappears into somewhere else in the house.
You look to Harry.
Harry looks to you.
“What the fuck,” he whispers, but you can see the excitement weaving through his dimple. “That’s…the coolest shit I’ve ever seen.”
You can’t help but agree, feet drawing you closer, as if compelled by the mesmeric introduction and inviting shadows. “Yeah…”
Footsteps follow you. “Bee, hold on. We don’t know where it goes or if we can get back out.”
Now, you hesitate, considering the rather valid point. “It probably leads to the attic. Caleb said he couldn’t figure out how to get up there, but I’m sure there’s a way back down. There’d have to be.”
“Maybe. Or maybe…that’s where the ghosts are waiting to lure us in—”
“All right,” you hiss, shoving on his arm before continuing for the door. “I will slap that dimple right off your face, I’m serious.”
“Well, you know I like it when you do.”
And even despite his teasing, you feel your stomach flip. Memories calling back to the forefront of your mind as you remember his pink skin and arrogant smirk. The way he’d beg you to keep going – give him more. 
“Can you please be serious?” you choose to say, reaching back for his hand as you approach the entrance. “Because if we die in here, I don’t want one of the last things we said to be one of your shitty jokes.”
He laughs, but intertwines his fingers with yours willingly. Squeezing your palm for comfort. “Sorry, lovey. By all means, please do lead us into the deathtrap. You’ll hear no more jokes from me. I’ll be on my best behavior.”
“Good boy.”
He squishes your hand again knowingly before you take a deep breath and begin up the stairs. 
The walls are about five feet apart in width, providing a rather narrow space for the two of you to slip between as you ascend up into the rest of the house. The path curves like a spiral, up and up until you’re almost sure there’s nowhere else to go. And your head pops right out of the roof.
Then, you come to the last one, and see that it opens up and leads into something else. A vast, empty floor with more light that you’ve seen anywhere else in the house. 
Curious, you move a bit faster, eager to see what awaits. And once you step into the room…your breath catches.
Stained glass windows decorate each wall, the full moon projecting the most beautiful colors and imagery across the entire space. From the floor to the ceiling and every inch in between. It’s like walking into a rainbow. Or heaven. Such a stark contrast from the eerie journey up the stairs in nothing but darkness.
Harry’s shoulder brushes against yours as he steps up beside you. Eyes fluttering as he pockets his phone and glances about the room admiringly. “Wow.”
“Yeah,” you agree in a quiet whisper. Walking toward the first window as your fingers outstretch for the tempered glass. “It’s…it’s beautiful.”
“It is.” He follows you. “They must have loved it up here.”
You feel yourself smile. “I bet it was the perfect hideaway.” You motion toward the furthest wall where a dainty (but somewhat tattered) window seat lies. “Bet they came up here and just read or painted all day. Watched the sun rise and set.”
You feel him staring at you. Observing your profile as you continue to glance around, trying to soak in every little detail. 
Then, you feel him. His touch sweeping across your cheek before he’s brushing a bit of hair from your shoulder. “Did you mean what you said earlier?”
You glance over.
“About us. Having kids, starting a family.” His expression is void of any of his previous taunting. Instead, solely focused on the soft skin of your jaw as he ghosts his thumb beneath your chin. “Is that what you really want? With me?”
And a part of your heart aches because…yes. You’d live a million lifetimes with him. With kids, without kids. Here, there. Fast-paced or easy-going. You’d do it all. You’d do everything with him.
Everything.
You reach up and slip your fingers around his wrist. Keeping him close as you nuzzle into his palm. “Of course I would, Har. Just want you.”
He steps closer, taking both sides of your face in his hands now as he keeps you in his strong hold. Gazing at you lovingly until you feel your insides twist. 
“I will give you anything you want, Bee,” he murmurs, and you can feel his promise dance across your lips. “Give you kids. Give you a big, beautiful home. Give you the life you deserve.”
You inhale quietly, desperately grasping onto his arms.
“Anything you want, baby,” he breathes, and you know how much he means it. “Give you fucking everything.”
Tears spring to your eyes, dancing along your waterline until one jumps down your cheek. Right into Harry’s waiting thumb where he quickly soothes it away. “You know I would,” you tell him in a timid whisper. “I promise, I would, I just…I can’t…”
His eyes soften when he understands, yet his head shakes as he brings your chest to his. “It doesn’t matter how or why. If we want to start a family, we can. Any way we want to. Any way you want to. Nothing else matters, lovey. Just wanna do it together.”
Together.
You stumble over a choked sob, burying yourself in his embrace while he dips down to kiss you. Harder than he has all night and filled with a kind of love that can’t be explained. Only felt through the synchronistic brushing of his lips against yours. 
“My girl,” he exhales, nudging his nose along your cheek before bringing his kisses back. “My fucking girl. Know I love you, yeah? Know you’re my only?”
You whimper, nodding pitifully as you allow him to take the reins. Deciding how far and how deep this kiss goes. 
“Good.” He drops his hands to your hips, squeezing once. “Because you are, Bee. Never loved anybody the way I love you.”
And you know – you know he means it. 
Something clicks in your brain. Something lustful and needy. You’re overcome with this anxious desire to have him. To be with him wholly. You want to crawl into his skin and live there. Be as close to him as possible. 
Show him exactly how much he means to you.
The kisses become hungrier. Sloppier. Rushed and borderline animalistic as you reach down and lace your fingers with his. Guiding him away from the wall and toward the carpet in the center of the room.
He seems to understand your intent. Smiling against your mouth as you move him where you want him.
“Sneaky girl,” he breathes, pressing his mouth to your neck. Nipping below your ear until you sigh contently. “S’that why you really wanted to come up here, hm? Wanted to get me alone? Have your way with me?”
And even though he’s effortlessly putting the power in your hands, you can’t help but feel swayed by him. Drawn in by his suggestion and prowess while your stomach flips in on itself.
“Maybe,” you admit quietly, grinning when he chuckles darkly. “Because maybe I know…you want me to have my way with you. Don’t you?”
He nods quickly, groaning almost to himself before he gropes at your waist and moves his kisses to your exposed collarbone. “Do anything you want, Bee. I meant it.”
Pleased, you take yourself away from him. “Good. Because I want you on your knees.”
And he almost looks disappointed that he’s had to stop kissing you, but the starvation behind his eyes is unmistakable. 
He drops so quickly, your head spins. Head tilted back and hands obediently landing on his thighs in wait. 
“Good boy,” you can’t help but mutter, reaching down to press your palm to his cheek in gratitude. “Always obey me so well.”
“Always,” he repeats reverently. Voice thick as though drunk with longing.
“Can’t take too long, okay? They might come looking for us, and I don’t think we’d ever be able to live that down,” you add, softening your tone some to ease the charged tension.
“I know,” he replies quickly. Almost pitifully, as if desperate to agree and make you happy. “Be quick, I swear.”
A grin splits your face. “Want you to take off your jeans, baby,” you instruct now, nodding toward his hips. “Just your jeans. Don’t want you to get cold.”
So, he does. Fumbling with his belt and button before dragging the dark fabric down his beautiful thighs, revealing his new tattoo. It catches the moonlight and the reflection of the red glass across the room. Drawing in your attention while your mouth nearly waters.
But he doesn’t seem to notice. Instead working quickly to rid himself of the material before returning to his knees. 
“Good. My jeans next,” you tell him, and he extends his hands toward your waist.
Just as quickly as before, he slips, pulls, and tugs until you can step out of your pants and toss them aside. Making sure to hold your hand as you do so you don’t lose your balance. 
It’s these little things that endear you to him. The way he doesn’t even realize he’s done something thoughtful. Instead offering such a gesture out of reflex and love.
“Thank you, baby,” you whisper, squeezing his chin once. “Now…I want you to lie back for me, okay? Don’t want you to do anything else. Just wanna take care of you.”
His Adam’s apple bobs with a thick swallow, and you can nearly see his heart thumping against his chest. He’s on his back in seconds, obediently lying on the carpet with his focus trained on you. Eager to see what you have in mind. 
Truth be told, you’re rather eager, too. Crouching down near his ankles until you can straddle his legs.
He lifts his head off the floor in order to see you, glued to your every move while his breath hitches.
You begin to make your way up his body. Bringing your lips to the beautiful, warm skin of his thighs as you travel toward his hips. Allowing your kisses to guide you.
You hear him release a strained curse. Catching the way his chest rises and falls a bit more rapidly, as if in tune with his racing heart. And you’re going so slow, you think you might kill him. Dragging your tongue along the tattoo before flicking your eyes to his. Making sure you truly have his undivided attention.
His lashes flutter, leg twitching beneath you. “Bee…”
“Yes, baby?” Your coy innocence makes another groan reverberate from his chest. “What do you want, hm?”
“Please,” is all he has the strength to mumble, fingers twitching beside him. Desperate to weave through your hair and tug. “Lovey, please…”
“I know. But I wanna play with you a bit first, okay?” You straighten up and crawl toward the tops of his thighs, just above his dark boxers. “Gonna let me play with you, Daddy?”
Another quick nod before he drops his head back to the floor. Overcome with desire.
And you imagine you know what he thinks you’re going to do. That he’s confident in his guess as he awaits for you to confirm his suspicion.
But there’s something much more thrilling about catching him off guard. Torturing him just a little. 
Because you know he loves it.
Once you feel comfortable in your new position, you allow your hand to travel between your legs. Dancing beneath the hem of your sweater before settling atop your baby blue underwear.
Your light grazes are innocent at first. Soft strokes along the cotton fabric. Enough to earn a shiver while Harry’s eyes cement to your hand. Mesmerized by the way you touch yourself.
You hum at the faint but teasing touches. Feeling almost giddy to quench this flame. Create pleasure for yourself and allow him to watch you. See exactly how good it feels.
Then, you hook the fabric to the side, and allow him the perfect visual of your cunt.
You notice a sharp chill as the cold air nips at you, but it only aids in encouraging you further. Making you grin to yourself while you use your other hand to drag your fingers through your pussy. Slipping between your folds and up to your clit.
“Shit,” he murmurs, eyelids growing heavier. “Shit, Bee—”
You circle the sensitive nerves a few times to work yourself up. Indulging in the feel and the unexplainable relief it provides. It’s like a drug. Addicting and somehow not nearly enough.
“Baby, please—” he tries again, palms finally reaching for your thighs in an effort to touch you. At least somehow. “Fuck—”
“Thought you wanted to be good,” you say, pinching your clit until you gasp. “Thought…thought you wanted to give me anything—”
“I do,” he answers through a rushed breath. “Bee, I do. I do, please—”
“Then, I want you to watch. Want you to watch what you do to me.”
He groans again, and you can see the slight pink in his cheeks from the frigid air and the way he’s so entranced with you. “Lovey, please…”
You slip down, teasing the tip of your finger around your fluttering hole until you can feel the arousal beginning to gather. Humming while you roll your hips in tune with your hand. Riding your own fingers before you’re moving back to your clit.
“Har…” His name slips out before you can stop it. Sighing from your tongue without pause. As if it’s instinct to associate him with your pleasure. To say his name in a desperate plea for more.
You feel him squeeze your legs. Tighter than he ever has. “M’here,” he calls. “M’right here, baby. What do you need?”
Too much. “You, Har. You, always.”
He’s pulling on you now. Palms smoothing up the globes of your ass until he can practically yank you closer. “Just ask. Ask me, Bee, and I’ll give it to you.”
And you’re torturing yourself. Perhaps more than him, and you nearly whimper when you realize how badly you miss him.
So, you remove your hands from between your legs in order to reach for his boxers. Slipping inside and pulling his cock out until he lands against his stomach. Beautiful, and flushed, and leaking pearlescent drops that glisten beneath the light of the moon. 
And once it’s free, you grind down. Dragging your once more covered cunt along his shaft. Close, but not close enough. Just to provide a bit of friction and make him moan as you brace yourself against his chest.
Your nails curl into the dark material of his shirt, scraping down his stomach as you reel. It’s so much and yet not even close to satiating you. Merely taunting you with the idea of what you really want. A type of release that will never be truly satisfactory like this.
“Fuck—” A lewd moan scrapes from the back of his throat. Hands pressing hard into your hips to help roll you over his cock faster and quicker. “Gonna fucking kill me, Bee.”
You’d like to be smug, but you’re too far gone to feel anything but need. “Har—”
“Gonna cum like this, baby? S’this all it takes?”
“I’m…I…”
“Look so cute, lovey. So fucking cute, using my cock to get off. Feels so good, doesn’t it? Rubbing your pretty little pussy all over me?”
Your eyes roll back, head feeling heavy as your chin drops to your chest.
Then, you feel his thumb against the only part of your clit he can reach. Pressing into it just enough to make you whimper. “Shh. It’s okay, I’ve got you. Wanna cum? Go ahead, you can cum, Bee. Make me so happy…just wanna feel you—”
And you hate how quickly it hits you. Hate that you truly thought you’d be able to edge yourself until you made him break.
But it consumes you from the inside out. Blindsiding your dominance until it sweeps you under his current. You become a trembling, shaking, moaning mess above him.
“There you go. Good fucking girl. So good…s’perfect,” he murmurs, continuing to guide you through it until you nearly collapse. “Feel better, baby?”
You nod weakly, cracking your eyes open just enough to catch his look of approval.
“Good,” he replies before a dark look seems to take hold. Hungrier than you’ve ever seen him. 
Suddenly, he’s sitting up. Forcing you to lean back as his arms loop around your waist and he’s hoisting you both into the air. Straightening back onto his feet while carrying you in his arms toward the furthest wall.
You barely get the chance to glance around before he’s dropping you onto the small window seat, right against the painted glass.
With a gasp, you collide with the cushion (which is admittedly much more comfortable than the floor), gazing up at him with surprise and wonder.
He says nothing. He can’t. He’s lost in his need for you – for your pleasure. Crouching down near your legs in order to reach for your panties and rip them from ankles. And once they’ve been tossed aside, he settles his body between your thighs, and surges forward.
His mouth is the closest to heaven you imagine you’ll ever get. Warm and wet and so expertly kind as he drags his tongue between your soaked, sensitive folds. Flicking at your clit before sucking it into his mouth with the kind of sound that makes your chest cave in.
“Har—” you whine, writhing a bit from the overstimulation and intensified pleasure. He’s chasing after your next orgasm before your first has even subsided, and it nearly wrecks you. “Shit, Harry—”
Still, he has no response. There’s no time or room to speak with the way he nips at your cunt before lowering. Letting his tongue slide inside you before pulling it back. Just enough to leave you squirming.
“Harry,” you try again, reaching out to card your fingers through his hair. Tugging with fervor until he does it again. “Fuck…please—”
His hands find your thighs. Pushing them open even further until you can feel the strain on your muscles from such a stretch. 
He’s suffocating himself. Buried in your pussy, he takes whatever he wants. Greedily swallowing you down with lascivious groans and exhales of contentment. Fingers curling around your legs, leaving bruises along your sensitive skin.
He’s insatiable. Ignoring your cries and whimpers for mercy, instead pushing you back to the brink. Making you see stars before you can prepare yourself.
You’re all over his face. Can see yourself glisten off his chin and swollen lips, the stunning stained glass windows painting ethereal pictures of him on his knees. Taking you on his tongue as though his life depends on it.
He captures your clit between his teeth and tugs. Eliciting another wounded, pitiful noise as you slump against the glass.
The second orgasm is just as powerful as the first, if not more. Because this time, he’s actually touching you. Blowing on your clit the moment he sees you begin to unravel, effortlessly dragging you into more pleasure.
You scratch his scalp so hard, you’re surprised you don’t draw blood. Practically pulling him through you while you ride his tongue and the wave of euphoria until you come crashing back down to Earth. 
“Oh, my god,” you whimper, features contorting with bliss. “Shit, H…please…please—”
But he’s far from through. Already licking the remnants of your orgasm from your quivering hole while you attempt to writhe away. The overstimulation almost painful as tears spring back to your eyes.
“Wait…wait, please,” you whisper, trying to recapture his attention by yanking on his curls and pushing your legs against his hands. “Baby, please…I need you. Need more, H…please.”
He looks up, and you see a glimmer of the moon in his eye. “What do you need more of? Hm? Tell me.”
You let your head drop back against the window, chest heaving beneath your thick sweater. “Har…can’t…I can’t, I need…need—”
“What?” he pushes. And you can hear the smug undertones as well as the reemergence of his cocky dimple. “What, baby? Tell Daddy what you need.”
And he knows what you need. He always knows, even before you do. But he wants to hear you say it. Wants to force the words from your mouth. Wants you to beg him for his cock.
With a heavy sigh, you answer, “You.”
“You already have me.”
You whine and toss your leg over his shoulder. Digging your heel into his spine to encourage him closer. “Need you to fuck me, H. Please…please, fuck me.”
His grin grows. “Well, well, well. Look at that. My sweet girl knows how to use her words after all.”
He crawls up to you, hands settling beside your hips as he leans forward.
“Doesn’t she?” he whispers, allowing his lips to ghost across yours. Teasing you with a taste of yourself. 
You feel as though you’re drowning. Unable to capture enough air in your lungs to survive, and you throw your hands around his neck to yank him the remaining two inches. 
 His tongue feels like heaven against yours. A mix of you and him that you swallow greedily. Wanting more than he’s seeming to give you.
“Please,” you try again. Releasing the ask against his cheek before nuzzling your nose under his jaw. Intoxicated by the scent of him. “Harry…”
He doesn’t have much strength to refuse you. His willpower long forgotten as he quickly obliges and grabs onto your waist to yank you to the edge of the seat.
He then lifts your leg and sets it onto the cushion, bending it at the knee to create the angle he wants. Allowing him enough room to work while he grabs onto his cock and removes his boxers the rest of the way.
Hard and heavy in his hand, he guides the tip between your thighs. Dragging it down your clit almost tauntingly before slipping in. And it’s far too easy. He disappears into our pussy almost unintentionally. Allowing your warmth to draw him in and keep him inside you.
You can’t help the smile that stretches across your face.
“Shit,” he whispers when he feels the way your walls squeeze around his length. You might be used to his size, but those first few seconds are always euphoric. “There you go…you all right, Bee?”
You nod wordlessly, reaching out for his shoulders for something to hold onto. 
“I know,” is all he says in response. Able to read your tells better than anyone ever has. “S’all right. I’ve got you.”
Once he’s fully inside of you, he offers a moment of relief. Settling there while his hands return to your hips to lift you up ever-so-slightly in order to use you the way he wants. 
“Go,” you beg, nails drawing patterns down his back. “M’okay, go. Wanna feel you. Need to feel you cum.”
“Yeah?” He draws back before driving in. Hard enough to knock a gasp from your chest. “That’s what you want? Want Daddy’s cum in this pretty pussy?”
A blissful haze begins to cloud your vision. His sinfully sweet taunt ringing between your ears. Inciting an idea and a need you hadn’t thought possible.  
“Oh…” When he realizes, that wicked look returns. “Oh, baby. You do, don’t you? Wanna be full of me. Want me to fill this sweet, little cunt until you’re dripping. Till I’m spilling out of you. All down your thighs. Down to the floor.”
You make another incoherent noise before succumbing to his hard thrusts. Falling mute and limp. 
“Want me to lick it up…just to spit it down your throat,” he continues. “Want me everywhere. In your pussy…in your tummy. Just wanna be so fucking full of me.”
Every word from his mouth is crude and delicious. Designed to torture you and it works.
Because he’s right. You do want him everywhere. Want to feel him across every inch of your skin, inside every pore, dripping from every part of your body. Want to be stuffed with him. His tongue, his cock, his cum. There’s no part of this man you aren’t infatuated by.
“Say it,” he hisses, tugging your body up higher until he can slam into you from a different position. Finding that beautiful spot that makes your toes curl while you cry out and grab onto the seat beneath you for support. “Say how much you want my cum. Beg me for it.”
You can feel the sweat dripping down your back. Can feel the exhaustion in your limbs from having to contain so much pleasure. 
And he’s careless yet practiced. Still gentle, even when he’s ramming his hips into yours. Nearly tearing you in half with the force of his cock, but with a sort of devotion you can’t explain. Even with such force, you feel relaxed. 
Almost as if this is how you were always meant to be.
And then…something faint. Distant and familiar. The sound of voices – your friend’s voices, coming from somewhere inside the house.
For a moment, you worry you’ve been caught. That they’ve found you and are ready to run screaming from the house.
But you catch pieces of their conversation. Vague and somewhat confusing. 
“—well, then, you check. I already tried—”
“—probably just looking around. Maybe they went back to their car—”
“—I’ll text her. They could be lost. This place is huge—”
They haven’t found you. In fact, it seems they’re still searching. Unaware that the two of you found the attic, and perhaps even unaware of the passageway, too.
Harry seems rather relaxed as he pauses just long enough to glance up. A look of understanding forming as he nods toward the ceiling.
You look, too.
The voices are coming from the vent. Echoing the conversation from somewhere else in the house as they walk through.
Your heart races. Because if you can hear them, that means…
He seems to consider this at the same time you do, head cocking deviously as he pulls back. “Shh,” he murmurs, thumb stroking your waist. “Gonna have to be extra quiet for me, okay?”
You take in another deep breath, another whine already bubbling up the back of your throat.
But he realizes this almost instantly. Hand coming up to press against your mouth and muffle your pathetic cry before you can make it. “Uh-uh,” he hisses, attempting to chastise but you can tell he’s amused. “Said no, Bee. Need you quiet or I stop.”
But he can’t stop. You can’t let him stop. You think if he stops, you might die. That you’ll disappear into nothing and spend the rest of your life chasing something only he can offer.
Instead, you grab onto his wrist, and keep it against your lips. Using it as an excuse to whimper against his palm and promise your attempt at silence.
And maybe he’s unconvinced. But he’s just as desperate as you are. To finish and find that serenity. To feel each other in every sense of the word.
So he takes your vow of obedience and continues. Resuming his thrusts as the sounds of voices slowly begin to fade away. 
You’re brought right back to the precipice of pleasure. Reminded yet again of why you’d do anything for him. Why he’s so addicting. Not just because of his body…but because his heart.
Shades of blue, red, yellow, and purple explode across the walls and across your eyelids. The colors rich and vibrant, accentuated by the bright glow of the moon. 
And you can see him perfectly. Can see his stunningly structured face. The ridge of his nose, the sharp edge of his jaw. The damp curls that lay across his forehead and the rosy skin of his cheeks.
You know he’s always been handsome. Not just to you, but to everyone.
But now…he’s ethereal. Because he’s not just some guy. He’s not just Harry. He’s the man you love. The only true home for your soul. Your comfort place, your future.
Your everything.
And that’s what makes him so beautiful.
When he notices your stare, something shifts. He drops his hand, and surges forward to kiss you. Throwing a stutter in his rhythm as he laces his tongue with yours. 
“Shit,” is all you manage to make out of his hushed moans. “Gonna give you everything, Bee. Gonna fill you. Keep my cum inside you forever. Fucking forever, baby. M’yours. Always.”
You can feel yourself clenching down on him. Already approaching your third before he’s even allowed himself a first. It’s a trait of his you’ve noticed he exhibits quite often. Perhaps it’s a masochistic practice or perhaps it’s his nature to want your orgasms over his own. Waiting until he’s sure you’re taken care of before he allows himself to find relief. 
Yet another one of these little things you’d be lost without.
When he realizes just how close you are, he leans back and brings his lips together. Spitting directly onto your clit before bringing his fingers into play.
“There,” he grits, inflicting quick circles against the tender, swollen nerves that make you whine. “That’s all it takes, isn’t it?”
Your body answers for you. You’re nothing but a string of noises and twitching muscles. Dissolving into your orgasm until that’s all you are. Just his victory. His perfect prize to be claimed.
You feel him watch you. Infatuated with the way you tense and squirm before you finally settle back against the glass to catch your breath.
And perhaps that’s what does it for him. Not just feeling you cum but seeing it. The physical proof of your passion written so visibly across your face. The way you soak his cock, the way you drip down onto the seat below, the way you cling to him.
He chases that sensation. Chases the way it makes him feel and the release it promises him. 
It doesn’t take long for him to finish now that he’s not holding himself back. A few quick but hard thrusts and he’s spilling himself into your pussy with a low groan, face burying into your neck.
He holds you still through every second. As close as he possibly can, even after you’re sure he’s finished. 
The emotional orgasm feels just as overwhelming as the physical one. You can’t help but wrap your arms around his body to hold him against your heart. Listening to the sounds of his strained breaths before they slowly even out. 
And he’s so happy. You know he is. Refusing to move as his cum sits inside of you. Wanting to keep it there like he promised.
You want to keep him the same way. 
“Fuck,” you hear him whisper. It seems unintelligible curse words are about all the two of you have to offer in moments like this. It makes you smile. “Think I came so hard, I blacked out.”
You giggle at this, moving to hook your leg around his middle. “I’m glad you came. Feels good.”
He turns his head so his cheek can rest on your shoulder. “Yeah? S’my cum feel nice? All warm inside you?”
And there’s something about the way he says it. Soft but secure. Teasing you and caring for you all in the same breath.
You hum.
“Got it all snug inside your little pussy, baby?” He presses a kiss to your neck. A reassuring gesture meant to reward you. “Gonna keep it for me?”
You nod fervently before clinging onto his body a bit tighter. Feeling a shiver roll down your spine – either from the cold or his response. Truthfully, you aren’t sure. 
“Hmm. That’s my good girl,” he murmurs, slipping an arm around your waist in order to hold you closer. Hugging you, almost, as he settles in your embrace. “Guess we better get going, hm?”
But you don’t like this idea. Already feeling your expression fall into a desolate pout as you suck in a sharp inhale and cement yourself to his larger frame. 
He senses this shift – this refusal – and stills. “What? What’s wrong?”
You don’t have an answer. You suppose nothing is wrong, per se…as long as he doesn’t leave. 
“Bee,” he tries again, a bit firmer. The singular nickname laced with apprehension. “Lovey, what happened, what's wrong? You know you have to talk to me, okay? Have to communicate with me—”
“Nothing,” you whisper, cutting his bargaining short. “Nothing, I just…don’t want you to go, Daddy.”
A brief pause. Silent and filled with an unspoken tension that melts into something tender. “Bee, I’m not going anywhere. Just wanna clean you up and hold you a bit. Like we always do. That’s all right, isn’t it?”
You consider this. You do love when he holds you. Especially when he runs his hands down your sore limbs. Massaging the aches away while keeping you safe in his arms.
The mere thought makes you sigh. “Promise?”
He squeezes your hip. “Always, baby.”
With that, you unhook yourself from his body, and allow him to move back. Taking himself from you almost painfully before he’s putting himself away and moving for your clothes. 
He finds your underwear and both pairs of jeans, bringing them back to you almost respectfully.
He helps you step into them, securing your panties around your waist with an impish wink and a soft, “Gonna save it for later, yeah?”
Once you’re both dressed again, he fits himself between you and the window, and places you in the middle of his lap. Your back against his chest while his palms sweep up and down your arms, easing the pains away.
“Was that okay?” he asks after a quiet moment of reflection. “Did you like what we did?”
 You drop your focus down to his hands. To the way they look on your body. You hum. Say nothing. 
In turn, he shifts, attempting to sneak a glimpse of the side of your face. “Bee, d’you hear me?”
Still, you’re silent. Trailing your finger along his knuckles and over his wrist. Entranced by him. Hypnotized.
He uses this very hand to reach for your jaw. Squeezing it just hard enough to capture your attention and turn your face to his. “Baby, you’re scaring me. Are you all right?”
You feel your frown return, chest tightening with the implication. “Scared? Why are you scared? What…what did I do?”
There’s a subtle pull in his eyebrows. Almost imperceptible but you manage to catch it before it smooths away. “Nothing, sweet girl. But I want to make sure you’re okay. That I didn’t hurt you or take things too far. And if I did, I want to know. I need to know.”
“Daddy, you never hurt me. Ever.” The frown intensifies, nearly taking control of your whole face. “Don’t say that, it makes me sad.”
Again, a flash of confusion and subtle recognition streaks behind his soft gaze. “Daddy just wants to make sure you’re feeling all right. That you feel safe and comfortable with me. Now…and before.”
“Of course I do. Always feel comfortable with you.”
You imagine he should feel relieved to hear this, and yet he sighs as he releases your jaw. “Oh, baby.”
It’s heavy the way he speaks. Akin to disappointment, but there’s a touch of sadness. Perhaps even understanding.
It breeds a constriction in your chest that feels like a snake coiling around your lungs. “What…what did I do? Did I say something wrong?”
“No,” he’s quick to whisper, tightening his hold on you. “God, no, sweet girl. Just realized something, that’s all.”
A tad reassured, you straighten up. “Oh? What?”
He nuzzles his cheek against your temple and pulls you even further into his chest. “Nothing bad, I promise. Just that I need to take extra good care of you right now.”
“Really?
 He nods. “Mhm. So, what do you think, lovey, hm? Should we go home? Think we’ve done enough exploring for one day.”
Your lashes flutter, a bit startled by the switch. “We…you wanna leave?”
“I do. I wanna take you home and hold you. Properly,” he says gently, laying a chaste kiss to your forehead. “We can take a bath, get all nice and warm again. Know it’s getting cold, isn’t it?”
Truthfully, you hadn’t realized the drastic drop in temperature. But with this mention, you feel a noticeable chill dancing across the room. Can feel your breath grow icier as it leaves your lips.
“And once we’re warm again, we can crawl into bed, and just stay,” he continues. “Watch a movie, eat some snacks. Do whatever you wanna do, baby. S’that sound good?”
And it does. It sounds like heaven. Anything with him always does. “Can we please?”
He grins again before kissing your temple again. “Of course. We’ll head out now. Think you can walk or do you need my help?”
Your legs do feel a bit wobbly, but in all honesty, the idea of having him hold you all the way down is what you really want. To make sure he doesn’t take himself from you, even if you’re merely walking to the car.
Your innocent pout is answer enough, and he chuckles. “Want my help, don’t you?”
Nodding eagerly, you sit up, allowing him to slip back out from behind you and stand. Once he has, he takes your hand and pulls you to your feet, making sure to steady you when you feel a bit rocky before leading you toward the stairs.
You leave the heavenly room behind, bidding the stunning shadows adieu as you disappear down the dark stairwell. 
And you hope, if there are ghosts, that they enjoyed the show.
After you’ve returned to the spare room on the first floor, Harry strides over to the bookshelf, and tilts the Frankenstein book back just like he had before. Prompting the portrait to slide closed in the same manner as it had when it opened. Hiding the secret staircase away for the next wandering couple.
Then, he turns to you. “All right, baby, let’s go.”
He crouches down, signaling that he’d like you to climb onto his back again, and you do rather giddily. Cementing yourself to his spine as you cling to him like a koala bear, allowing him to lead you back out into the main part of the house.
You find your friends already waiting by the door, talking casually until they see you coming out from the shadows.
You feel Harry squeeze your ankles as a sign of encouragement and you sigh to yourself while cuddling closer.
“Where the hell have you been, we’ve been looking everywhere,” Jackie calls. “You just left me with these dipshits.”
Harry chuckles. “Sorry. Got a bit lost and then we started talking. Did you find the attic?”
“No,” Charlie huffs, and he sounds rather offended. “I don’t think there is an attic. Think Caleb’s just full of shit.”
“I’m telling you, it’s there,” Caleb argues. “Other people have gone up, I just don’t know how they found it.”
“Huh. Weird,” Harry muses, and you have to turn your face away to hide your smirk. “Well, listen, I think we’re gonna head out. But this was fun. Thanks for the invite.”
“Aw, really? Already? We thought maybe we’d head over to Waffle House or something,” Jackie tells you. “You know, eat a shit ton of whipped cream and syrup in the spirit of Halloween.”
To this, Harry smiles, glancing back at you as if to check for permission and see if you’re interested. But you can’t really offer him much else except a shy grin, which he seems to understand.
“I think we’re just gonna turn in for the night,” he says instead. “But you guys have fun. We’ll have to do this again for Christmas.”
The other three laugh as you call your goodbyes and allow Harry to carry you to the car. 
He sets you down by the passenger door in order to unlock it and swing it open. And once it is, he’s still ever the gentleman, helping you sit and making sure you’re buckled in before shutting the door and jogging over to his side.
As he fumbles with his keys and gets the engine started, your eyes trail up toward the top of the large mansion before you. Finding those beautiful windows once more as you bid them goodbye as well.
You feel Harry’s hand slip around yours, recapturing your attention as you look over and catch his grin. “You ready?”
You nod and squeeze his palm three times. “Mhm. Always.”
Pleased, he brings your knuckles to his lips. Leaving a lingering kiss that nearly takes your breath away. “Happy Halloween, Bee.”
And your heart has never felt so full. 
“Happy Halloween, Harry.”
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HAPPY HALLOWEEN 🧡🧡🧡 (or just regular old Tuesday)!!! Thank you so much for joining me for Freaky Fun and for being so kind and supportive!!! You all have my heart!! Have a safe, wonderful night filled with laughs and amazing treats!! 😭♥️
~ Full Teach Me Masterlist
~ Full Freak Fun Masterlist
~ Main Masterlist
~ Blurb Masterlist
Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞
Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @onlystylesss28 @winterrays @jessitpwk @aslugforharry @allthelovehes @straightnogayhs @adoringhrry @harrysxcarolina @lillefroe @avasversion @littlelunamoon @harrysgf01 @lexiecamposv @spinningoutwaiting4ya @hs-tpwkrry @vyctorya @b-reads-things @thiyaabs @buckybarnessimpp @whoreforjamesbuckybarnes @cherryluvhobi @mybabyh @xellybellyx @reneemunson @juliatpwk @wolfmoonmusic @buckyssbestgirl @wandasbae616 @imavirginhoe @nuggetdean @chubby-cheek-calum @itsmytimetoodream @scndsofsummer @theofficialprongs
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as the flowers bloom, my heart does too ⋆*·゚misa x putellas!reader, social media au, (6/-)
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when your relationship ends and all you want to do is hide and cry, flowers suddenly start to appear on your doorstep.
or; misa hating to see a pretty girl cry and suffer and going out of her way to cheer her up while staying anonymous
fic: coming
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albaps9: las mujeres más importantes de mi vida. mama, ale y mi chiquita ynn 💘 (pretend you're on here pls 😭) Liked by yourusername, alexiaputellas, marialeonn16 and 703 others
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yourusername 🙈 ↳ yourusername wait, you forgot la nala la mala ↳ alexiaputellas I was about to say! 😝 ↳ yourusername wouldn't be the first time she forgot🤭 ↳ alexiaputellas What do you mean??? ↳ albaps6 sigh i can never do something cute for you guys ↳ albaps6 yn shut the fuck up or i'll tell mami and ale about what happened on your birthday 😴 ↳ yourusername i'll put your moncler blouse on vinted if you do that ↳ albaps6 YOU have it??!!! i looked for that fucking thing everywhere ↳ yourusername 🤩 ↳ alexiaputellas I love you two crazies. liked by yourusername and albaps6 ↳ alexiaputellas But what exactly happened on your birthday? 😟 ↳ yourusername well duh, i turned a year older! liked by albaps6
marialeonn16 And still Yn is my favourite putellas 🤪 ↳ yourusername i like you
bff1 my second family!! 😍 ↳ albaps6 yeah you're the deranged cousin liked by yourusername
alexiaputellas My entire world in one picture 😊 ↳ albaps6 minus nala 🤣 ↳ yourusername wtf what about your girlfriend?????? ↳ alexiaputellas She's my entire universe. liked by yourusername ↳ albaps6 🤢
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marisabel_rguez: What's up? 🧤 Liked by sofie.svava, marialeonn16, bff3 and 12,377 other
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yourusername the sky ↳ bff1 i was just about to say that 😭 ↳ bff2 our friend group has four braincells in total, you both sometimes have none of those ↳ bff3 @/bff2 I wholeheartedly think you should give the two of us a little more credit than having only four? ↳ username1 oh hey y'all 🤔
yourusername i love seeing you in dark blue 😍 liked by marisabel_rguez ↳ yourusername oh and i'd say break a leg for the next match, but pls don't ): ↳ marisabel_rguez Everything better than your heart. This comment is no longer available ↳ bff1 yikes no, break her bed instead. This comment is no longer available
jennihermoso Siiiiii
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Text Message
m 💌 And aaaah you know what I love to see you in? Black! (or nothing) 😊 you somehow i knew this crossed your mind the second i commented m 💌 We know each other too well now, jajaja. you quick! think fast! what word am i thinking of? m 💌 Daisies? you ohhh valid, one of my favourites! m 💌 I know. you but no, cannoli of course m 💌 🙃😉🙂 you misa i will actually slap you m 💌 I'm stronger you i'm scrappy and grew up fighting with alba m 💌 Fair 😅 m 💌 I'm glad she forgave us faster than Alexia did. She's scary. you yea she looks all bark and no bite but she BITES. literally. still have a scar on my finger. m 💌 I need you to tell me that story one day. m 💌 So, do you bite too? Because I might be into that. you i think that you should know such things as my girlfriend 👋 m 💌 Aha... well, don't blame me. If we'd lived together I would have known 'such things' and more. you 😔 m 💌 I know. I miss you too. I wish we could live together though. you my work's here, love. i can't leave. and i don't think i can be without my family and friends just yet. i need them close. and you'll be busy all day and i know no one in madrid. m 💌 I know, I would never ask that of you. I just wish I could be around you more. Maybe I'm greedy or dramatic. I don't know. m 💌 I'll take the train to Barça as soon as I can. you no, my love. you already travel and work too much. i don't want you straining your mind and body, you have to take care of it. and you were here last time. i'll come when i can. m 💌 Alright, I know there's no talking you out of it, is there? you nope 😘 m 💌 Promise I'll see you soon? you promise! you i've got to run now. you better wear something dark blue next time i see you, byeeeee, i love you. m 💌 You better wear black or maybe just don't wear anything at all. Bye, querida, I love you more.
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yourusername: missing you 🌼🖤 Liked by marisabel_rguez, sofie.svava, ingridengen and 7,328 others
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bff2 amorrrrrr 🤗
sofie.svava a literal angel!! inside and out <3
janafernandez3 😍
alexiaputellas Muy guapa, laelia 💘
username1 Okay does that mean the anonymous flower sender has been you-know-who all this time? ↳ username2 WHAT, i'd almost forgotten about that! omfg! probably!! ↳ username3 what use does voldemort have buying flowers when he can't smell them
ingridengen Muy bonita 😚
liekemartens Liefie!!
salmaparalluelo The flowers!!?? ↳ yourusername 😇 ↳ ona.battle TELL US
username3 Okay 🔥
albaps9 hotshot 😎
username4 You? Who's you, ma'am?
marisabel_rguez Wearing black? ↳ yourusername yea, i was told i look good in it! ↳ marisabel_rguez Si, pero.... ↳ yourusername 🤫
bff1 ☺️
marialeonn16 My tiny laeliaaa 😊
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albaps9: hola, espwnt's biggest fans have touched down! (ft olga & yn 😗✌️) Liked by alexiaputellas, marisabel_rguez, jennihermoso and 783 others
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yourusername i'm still mad you stole my window seat ↳ albaps9 my luggage was lost for a day, so who wins?
marisabel_rguez 🤗🤝
marialeonn16 Missing you all!
alexiaputellas 🤩
alexiaputellas My favourite cheerleaders!
jennihermoso Oh great, now we'll definitely win with you clowns in the stands 😂 ↳ albaps9 😲 ↳ albaps9 be grateful we're here for you all!!!! ↳ alexiaputellas (They're only here for me, but sshh) liked by marisabel_rguez
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yourusername: 😊🇪🇸 Liked by alexiaputellas, liekemartens, marisabel_rguez and 4,398 others
liekemartens Next time we'll get you 😉🦁 ↳ yourusername you said that the last three times as well 🤭
marisabel_rguez Our good luck charm all day every day!
alexiaputellas My very own lucky charm since day one 🙂
albaps9 just a normal night of wag duties, hm? liked by 12 others
username1 lol ale and misa
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yourusername: 🖤 Liked by begovargas, alexiaputellas, sofie.svava and 1,293 others
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bff1 🖤 ↳ bff3 🖤 ↳ yourusername 🖤 ↳ bff2 🖤
begonavargas ily ❤️
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marisabel_rguez: Do you think it suits👔me? Liked by yourusername, haleyraso, bff2 and 16,352 others
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username1 the dad joke? no. the suit? HELL YES.
username2 🤤
username3 OOOOOh!!!
yourusername joooooder, dios mio! what the fuck!! This comment is no longer available ↳ yourusername WHY am i seeing this NOW? This comment is no longer available ↳ yourusername hostia puta, que es esto misa??? oye?? diga me! This comment is no longer available ↳ albaps9 oh now you've done it, you broke her 🤣 @/marisabel_rguez
↳ yourusername mami chula??? 😩📞 This comment is no longer available liked by marisabel_rguez ↳ alexiaputellas Callate, dios mio! You're embarrassing yourself. ↳ albaps9 you mean embarrassing you? 🤥 ↳ alexiaputellas Hmpf. Misa, I see that like. 🤨 liked by marisabel_rguez
username3 give me a gf who will drool over me like yn 😪
sofie.svava Looking gewd!
username4 Not Yn's fantasy coming to fruition 😂
username5 Yn's one moment away from saying i do lmaooo ↳ username6 At least Misa's already suited up 👀💍 ↳ username7 can you blame her??? ↳ username8 Looks like Alexia won, comments went ✨poof✨
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yourusername: recap of week 69 Liked by begovargas, albaps9, marisabel_rguez and 1,293 others
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albaps9 perdon?? como?? que???? 69-?? fucking hormonal teenager. what's up with you lately 🤣 ↳ albaps9 change the caption before ale sees it and the real fun starts
marisabel_rguez uuff 🤒
marisabel_rguez But don't lie...that was last week, no? ↳ yourusername oh yeah, whoopsies ↳ bff1 🕯escucha las palabras de las brujas de los secretos escondidos de la noche- 🕯
alexiaputellas The age I'll never reach because of the headaches you give me with captions and photos like these. ↳ yourusername disculpe 😇 ↳ alexiaputellas Sigh, you're happy, that's all that matters.
begovargas You cheek 🤣
janafernandez3 Prettyyyyy ✨
bff2 what was even the reason for that caption? 😆 ↳ bff3 It's time to buy a bigger freezer to put her in and help her cool down.
marialeonn16 How was the pizza? ↳ yourusername delish because it was made with love 😊
bff1 wiggle wiggle wiggle ↳ bff1 i still think my butt’s better
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↳ 5h ago: yourusername added to their story
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Direct Message
alexiaputellas Put your phone away, por favor YN. Safe travels, answer me when you get there and not earlier unless you need me ❤️
albaps9 vroom vroom go to your woman!!! 😊
marisabel_rguez Are you serious??? marisabel_rguez Wait if you left five hours ago, you'll be here so soon already?? marisabel_rguez Y/N!!! 😱 marisabel_rguez Fuck I love you so so so much, amor. marisabel_rguez And I love that sweater on you 😭 yourusername i know 😉 marisabel_rguez No, please don't text me until you're here, okay? I'd like to have you as my girlfriend for as long as I can. Be safe. Delivered.
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a/n: happy weekend everyone, here are some flowers to brighten your days! 🌼🌻🌸🌼🌻🌸🌼🌻🌸
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