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bonewreath · 4 months

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𝐬𝐦𝐨𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭 | 𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

description: you’ve been getting closer to ellie lately and, unbeknownst to you, your blossoming crush is entirely reciprocated. cue your first smoke sesh together… and a little something more, too. [modern au, ellie and reader are both over 18]

warnings: weed use, oral sex, fingering. this fic is 18+, minors do not interact.

author’s note: my first ellie fic and my first fic on this blog! pls be nice :) let me know what you think <3

The first few times you hung out with Ellie, she’d offered you a joint. It’s no secret that Ellie’s the town’s top dealer, a welcome sight at rowdy house parties, her backpack stuffed with ziplock bags of the best bud around. You’d tried weed before, had taken a puff or two from poorly-rolled blunts here and there, but you’d never particularly enjoyed it. Mostly, you’d just coughed up a lung and felt nothing but a vague lightheadedness. So when Ellie rolled up a joint the first time you’d come over to her place, offering you a drag after she’d sparked up, you’d politely declined.

Ellie had arched a brow. “You mind if I smoke? Shit - I can put it out.”

Before you’d had the chance to respond, she was already reaching for the ashtray on her nightstand, ceramic and painted to resemble an eight-ball.

“No, no, it’s fine,” you interjected, reaching out and touching her wrist almost involuntarily. You pushed down the flurry of butterflies that erupted in your stomach at the contact. God, you had to be touch-starved or something. Since when did touching someone’s arm make your heart skip a beat?

Ellie looked at you with a guarded kind of suspicion, like she didn’t believe that you were fine with her smoking. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure,” you said, lips curling into an encouraging smile. “I don’t mind weed, it just doesn’t do anything for me.”

“Huh.” Ellie nodded. She lifted the joint to her lips again and you glanced away, chest tightening from the sight of her lips pursing.

“If you ever wanna try again,” she paused to exhale a plume of smoke, intentionally avoiding your direction, “let me know. Not to, like, toot my own horn or anything, but I’ve never had someone try my weed and not like it.”

You let out an easy laugh. “Okay, we’ll have to see about that.”

Ellie was smiling at you, those green eyes twinkling like so many stars. “No pressure.”

That was months ago, when the summer heat still blazed from sunrise to sunset. It’s mid-winter now, the chill nipping at your cheeks and the end of your nose. To your agony, it hasn’t gotten any easier to breathe when you touch Ellie - when she greets you with a hug and a smile at her front door, you feel like you’re paralyzed with want. And Ellie’s probably none the wiser, of course. You wonder if she’s ever noticed the way your breath hitches when she stretches out on the couch beside you, leaning her head on your shoulder while some tacky eighties film lights up the television screen. You figure she’s oblivious - she’s just being friendly. She probably doesn’t even know you like girls, anyway. Plus, she doesn’t shy away from talking about the girls she’s been with before. You’ve spent more than a few nights seething with jealousy as she recounted her latest hookup, schooling your expression into one of disinterest or even mild enthusiasm.

It’s been a while since she’s talked like that, luckily. You’re grateful you don’t have to feign excitement about Ellie’s latest conquests anymore.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” Ellie interrupts your internal monologue, hands still working at the joint in her lap. She’s got a pile of ground-up weed on a rolling tray, sprinkling it into the perfectly-rolled cone like it’s muscle memory. It probably is.

“Nothing,” you blurt, cheeks warming. “Sorry, just zoned out for a second.”

“Oh, bullshit,” Ellie quips, rolling her eyes despite the smile playing at her lips. “What, you can’t tell me? I thought we were friends, cherry.”

You flush anew at the nickname. She’d picked it out for you after you’d scarfed down an entire jar of maraschino cherries one night, after Ellie had bought them for ice cream sundaes. You’d never live that down… But you’re not sure you want to, because every time the nickname leaves Ellie’s lips, you feel like you’re glowing bright red with admiration.

“We are friends!” You nudge Ellie’s shoulder with yours, rolling your eyes with that same playfulness she’d expressed. “Sorry, it’s just - it’s embarrassing.”

Ellie narrows her eyes. It’s like you can see the cogs turning in her head. “Embarrassing? What, you got a crush on some guy or something?”

You open your mouth to respond, but before you can, she’s prattling on again. “Y’know, just ‘cause I’m gay doesn’t mean you can’t talk to me about your crushes. Swear I won’t be weird about it.”

Oh god.

“It’s not - I’m not…” You sigh, gaze lowering to your lap, where you’re fiddling with your hands. Should you tell her? You should probably tell her.

“I like girls, you know.”

It’s quiet for so long that you need to look up at Ellie to make sure she’s still there, still listening. And she is; her eyes are glued to you, wide in disbelief.

“What?” You feel like a bug under a microscope with her looking at you like that. “Is it that hard to believe?”

Ellie shakes her head emphatically. “No, no - it’s not. I just didn’t expect that.”

She turns away to finish rolling the joint, twisting the very end of the paper until it forms a little point. “Guess you’re just full of surprises, huh, cherry?”

You bite your lip to stifle a smile, but Ellie sees it anyway.

“So who’s the lucky girl?” She asks, rummaging through her pocket until she finds her lighter. You watch Ellie spark the joint, the twisted end catching fire until the cherry starts to glow. Ellie takes a few puffs and the scent of smoke tickles your nose.

“I’d prefer not to say,” you tell her, chewing on the inside of your lip. Your nerves are off the wall; you’re so anxious that the joint in Ellie’s slender fingers is suddenly tempting.

Ellie scoffs. “Boring.”

She looks up at you as she flicks ash off the end of the joint, and when she notices you eyeing it, her brows lift.

“Want some? Will that make you spill?”

You huff a nervous laugh, toying with the ends of your hair. “No… I don’t know. Maybe?”

Ellie whoops, her free hand curling into a fist of victory. “Fuck yeah. Here, take it.”

She offers you the joint and you take it, but not without a moment or two of hesitation. You will the anxiety away with the thought that you probably won’t feel anything. Ellie watches as you bring the joint to your lips and inhale, praying you won’t cough and make a fool of yourself. Especially not with Ellie watching so intently.

By the grace of some kind of divine being, you don’t cough. Your throat tickles, and you feel emboldened to take one more hit, letting the smoke fill your lungs. You imagine your body relaxing, the knot in your stomach unwinding. You hand the joint back to Ellie and she takes a puff of her own, her lips curled into the faintest little smirk.

“So…” Ellie trails off expectantly.

“God, you’re persistent,” you groan. She just peers at you knowingly from behind a veil of smoke.

“There’s not much to tell,” you say. “I’ve had a crush on this girl for a while now, but I don’t think she feels the same.”

“Have you asked her?” Ellie prompts, flicking ash off the joint.

You shake your head. “No way.”

“Then,” Ellie pauses to take another hit, “how do you know she doesn’t feel the same?”

You should be feeling anxious with her drilling you like this - you know you should. Usually, you’d be retreating into yourself with every prodding question Ellie asks. But all you feel now is yearning; there’s an ache in your chest that only she can remedy. And, clearly, Ellie’s clueless about it.

You don’t want her to be clueless, you realize.

The words leave your lips before you can think better of them. “Do you, Ellie?”

Her brows knit together, forming a crease that you’ve memorized by now - like every other freckle and wrinkle on her face. “Huh? Do I what?”

You reach for the joint and she yields it without question.

“Do you feel the same about me?”

The weed has certainly helped with your nerves, you think, watching Ellie’s expression shift from confusion to realization. Her plush lips part, but all that comes out is a series of stammers and false sentence starts: “I—you—what?”

Fuck it, you think. You stretch out to reach the nightstand beside Ellie’s bed, leaving the joint in one of the ashtray’s notches. A steady stream of smoke ribbons upward from the fading cherry.

“Ellie,” you start, settling back into your place on the rug. You look at her to find her already staring at you, blinking. “It’s you. I have a crush on you. It’s been—”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Ellie interjects, voice softer than you’d expected.

You blink. “I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, I guess. And you always talked about other girls, so I thought you just… Weren’t interested.”

“Cherry.” Ellie sits up on her knees so she can get closer to you, the sleeves of her oversized flannel slipping down to her forearms as she reaches out and grabs your face. Her touch is gentle but firm, insistent. You can feel the callouses on her fingers against your skin, her thumbs brushing up against your cheekbones, and the air is suddenly so thin you can hardly inhale.

“I have… I’ve had feelings for you for so long. So fucking long, cherry.” Ellie’s gaze is intense, eyes boring into you. You feel exposed, raw, alive with something electric.

You stare right back at her, frozen in her grasp.

“But you were always talking about other girls,” you say. Doubt lingers in the back of your head; this is too good to be true. Right?

“I know, fuck, I’m sorry,” Ellie sighs. “I thought you weren’t interested in me. Thought it was hopeless, y’know? My perfect best friend having feelings for me? Unreal.”

One of Ellie’s hands smooths over your hair; it’s something she’s done plenty of times before, but it feels different now. More intimate, with your shared confessions between you.

“Wanna know something?” Ellie asks then plows on, not really waiting for an answer, “I stopped hooking up with other girls a while ago. I just… Couldn’t.”

You nod in understanding. Your eyelids feel heavy all of the sudden, each blink heavier than the last.

“They weren’t you,” Ellie adds.

They weren’t you, her words echo in your mind.

“Ellie,” you breathe. Her face is impossibly close; you can pick out every detail of her face. Each pore, each freckle, each fleck of brown in her green eyes. You can smell the weed smoke on her breath.

“Cherry,” she responds, voice hushed just as low as yours. “Cherry. Can I kiss you?”

“God, yes,” you practically whine.

When Ellie kisses you for the first time, she tastes like relief.

Her lips are soft and insistent against yours, the pad of her thumb warm against your cheek as you lean in closer to kiss her back. It’s like time has gone still; the hum of the speaker on Ellie’s dresser fades away, as does the sound of the winter winds hissing and whooshing against the window. All you know is Ellie: her hand slipping down the length of your back to grab your hip, her mouth hot and needy against yours. It’s a desperate sort of kiss, one that you’d both been yearning for, and months of pining drain from your mouth to hers, then back again.

You’re not sure if you’d been kissing for seconds or hours when Ellie finally breaks away, gasping.

“Fuck,” she whispers. The tip of her nose brushes against your cheek, then your nose. “We should stop, before I…”

She trails off but you know exactly what she’d left unsaid. And your stomach flips in response; the mere thought of what else Ellie might do with her mouth has your cunt throbbing.

Ellie’s hand leaves your hip and it’s like she’s left a burn there - one shaped like her touch, a scathing outline on your skin.

“I don’t want to stop,” you find the courage to admit.

You’re not sure who makes the first move this time - only that you’re kissing again, swallowing Ellie’s pleased moans as your tongue prods between her lips. You gasp and pant into each other’s mouths, hands roaming on newly discovered skin; Ellie’s hands slip beneath your tee, her palms hot against your abdomen, your hips, your lower back. When her fingers find the clasp of your bra and unfasten it, you practically shiver with anticipation, back arching into her touch.

“Whoa there,” Ellie laughs, nudging her nose against yours. You go in for another kiss, annoyed that she’d stopped, but she pulls back. “You’re sure you want this, cherry?”

“Please,” you say, taking advantage of the moment to pull your shirt over your head and set it aside. You toss your bra into the growing pile, turning back to Ellie to find her gaping at you.

“Christ,” she says, licking her lips, “you’re fucking perfect.”

She gives you one last heated kiss before her mouth moves to your jawline, then the column of your neck, where she leaves a trail of wet kisses. She sucks on a spot right on the crook of your neck, just shy of leaving a hickey, and your toes fucking curl.

Ellie only gives a low hum of approval at your reaction before she’s moving lower, lower. Her kisses cover your breasts, every inch of skin worshipped by her lips until she finally takes a peaked nipple into her mouth. You feel her tongue swirl against the sensitive bud and you nearly cry from the pleasure, one hand flying up to knot into her hair and tug.

Her gaze moves up to meet yours, and your cunt tightens again at the look of unbridled desire in her eyes - her lids are heavy, too, but you can’t tell if it’s from the weed or sheer lust. Maybe both, you’re not sure, but you don’t have much time to consider it before Ellie’s moving to your other nipple, tongue laving against the taut flesh before she closes her mouth around it and sucks. A ragged moan tears from your throat and you tense, tugging again at the locks of Ellie’s hair in your fist.

She leaves your nipples flushed and sensitive, shining with saliva, and you’re suddenly very aware of the layers of clothes separating you from her. Separating the wetness of your cunt from hers, the bony curve of her hips from your needy mouth. You need those layers gone.

“Ellie,” you whine, pulling at the collar of her flannel.

“Shh, I know,” she coos, voice dripping with syrupy sweet lust. “Why don’t you get on the bed for me, hm?”

You nod and oblige, but not without stopping to slip out of your jeans. You leave your panties on because, well, they’re cute. A white lace thong with a tiny, silky pink bow just below your navel - Ellie’s eyes linger there as she stands at the edge of the bed, unbuckling her belt and stepping out of her cargos. You can feel the wet patch on your panties as you press your thighs together and watch her undress. She’s always been on the thinner side, but as she slides off her flannel and pulls her sports bra over her head, you realize that she’s much more toned than you’d imagined. Her arms flex with each movement and her abdomen is clearly taut with muscle; every inch of new skin she reveals only adds to the agonizing desire churning in your stomach.

Luckily, she seems just as eager as you are. She’s still in a pair of oversized plaid boxers when she grabs hold of your hips and yanks you toward the edge of the bed, pulling your knees apart so she can see what’s between them.

“Look at you,” she says, eyes wide at the sight of your soaked panties. “I didn’t realize you were so needy, cherry. Should’ve let me take care of you sooner.”

Her words send another gush of arousal flooding from your cunt, your stomach twisting. “‘M sorry, Ellie.”

“Don’t be sorry,” she says, lowering herself onto her knees before you. Her fingers hook beneath the lace of your panties to pull them down, leaving them in a crumpled heap on the rug.

Her face sinks between your legs, and the first stroke of her tongue against your folds makes you shiver with relief.

“Oh my god,” you gasp. Ellie moans against your pussy, tongue splitting through your folds, spreading your wetness with every swipe and lick. Your back arches involuntarily, your toes curling in sheer pleasure.

She laps at your cunt like a woman starving, hot tongue drawing circles around your puffy clit. It’s maddening, the way she knows exactly what you need, speeding up and slowing down in accordance with your moans and sighs and whimpers. You’ve never felt so close so quickly, but you don’t want it to stop - her mouth is magic between your legs, and as you hurtle towards your orgasm, she slips a finger into your clenching hole. You nearly scream.

“Ellie,” you moan shakily, your thighs tightening on both sides of her head. “Ellie, I’m gonna…”

She just moans again, mouth working at your clit while her finger sinks in and out of your cunt. She adds another not long after and it’s hardly a stretch with how wet you are. You’re trembling with every stroke of her tongue against your clit, and soon enough, you feel yourself slipping off the edge into oblivion. Your orgasm tears through you like never before, hot and electric, every muscle tensing as Ellie finger-fucks you through every wave of pleasure. Eventually, you push the heel of your hand against her forehead, too overstimulated for her to keep sucking at your too-sensitive clit. She pulls back and sits on her heels, fingers leaving the tight grip of your cunt as she wipes her mouth with her other hand. Your slick covers her from the nose down, the shining evidence of how good she’d made you feel.

“So fucking pretty when you come,” Ellie tells you, standing up and lifting a knee onto the bed beside you. Her hair is a mess, you’d made sure of it, but she doesn’t seem to notice or care.

“Think you’ve got a few more for me?” She smiles at you, wolfish and wicked, and her hand moves to grope at one of your tits.

“Mm,” you hum, reaching out for her. “Only if you have a few for me.”

When she’s close enough, you slip your hand between Ellie’s legs, your fingers brushing through sparse curls to find the heat of her folds. She’s soaked, you realize with self-satisfaction, your tongue swiping over your lower lip.

This will be fun.

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modelbus · 1 month

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Anyone else have a newfound love for this song and an addiction to task force 141? No? Just me?

To my mcyt readers: …I can’t explain. Just know that is ✨ different ✨ from my usual. (Quite Suggestive) To the COD readers I've attracted: I haven't played the games and reality is what I decide to make it (feel free to send asks educating me or info dumping <3)

Pairing: John Price x Gn!Reader

Too sweet

Baby, I can never tell How do you sleep so well?

”Morning Captain.” The words are practically a ritual, although you know he won’t respond. He never does this early in the morning.

There were a lot of unwritten rules in 141. When you first joined, you fucked them all up. Continuously. More often than not, it was Soap who laughed at you while Price patiently explained why you can’t joke about Ghost being afraid of snakes.

This rule, though, only took you a few days to catch onto. The “don’t talk about the sleepless nights” rule. Everyone knew why that rule existed; you’d seen enough combat to not be that naive. You’d been there enough to wake up before the sunrise, to watch the sky bleed orange.

And that’s exactly why you don’t ask Price about the circles under his eyes. If he’s not up doing paperwork, he’s up for other reasons. You don’t pity him; being Captain isn’t something you could ever do.

“Had a dream that Gaz found a goat and convinced you to make it the base pet.” You continue. His lips quirk up, gaze turning amused, so you soldier on. “Then it ate Ghost’s clothes, so he kicked it out of the base and Gaz quit the task force over it. And Soap claimed he could speak to it, but I called bullshit on him and he disappeared.”

”Disappeared to where?”

“Hell, maybe? That’s where he fucking belongs.” You smile at him, and his eye roll—you pretend it’s fond—seems like a victory of its own.

You’re too sweet for me You're too sweet for me

“No.”

The finality of his word rings clear, but you persist. You were never too good at stopping before you crossed that line, never too good at giving up while you were ahead. Things, more often than not, ended up right as rain.

“Price—“ You try.

“You’re too young, and it’s wrong.” Never before have you seen a man so tortured. It wasn’t a question of if he wanted you, it was a question if he would let himself want you. And you both knew it. “I won’t take your innocence from you.”

You scoff, following him down the hall and out of the briefing room. So much for staying after to help him gather papers.

“I’m a soldier, hardly innocent!”

“Compared to me, you are!” He turns, and you automatically look up to his eyes. As you said before: tortured. “I’m harsh, and we both know it. You deserve to be with someone soft, someone who can be sweet with you.”

“I don’t want to be.”

From the second you laid eyes on John Price, you knew you’d never want to be. It wasn’t his age, although you never minded an older man. It was his passion, his care, his leadership and skills and everything else about him. He was magnetic, drawing you in despite everything.

And you weren’t blind to the way his gaze always met yours in a room, either.

Price sighs heavily. “Go to bed, soldier.”

Tactful retreat it is, then. “Good night, Price.” You murmur, turning away.

A pause, then another sigh. This one is lighter. “Good night.”

I work late where I’m free from the phone And the job gets done But you worry some, I know

Knocking twice, you don’t wait for Price to respond before entering his office. His light was on, shining out a signal to anyone in the hallway that he was awake.

”You’re about to owe me.” You announce, ignoring his groan.

“I was working.”

“And now you’re going to eat dinner. I had to smuggle these from the dining hall, you know.” You drop the napkin bundle you had made on his desk, opening it to reveal the food. His and yours.

“I was going to get food later.”

“Liar.” You sit in the chair across from his desk, grabbing a bread roll. “No drinks, because even I can’t smuggle that out.”

“I could get you in trouble for this.” He points out.

“But you won’t. I’m your favorite.”

Price reaches forward, taking his bread roll. Mimicking you, although he never puts his pen down. The paperwork spread out in front of him is just like every other night you’ve brought him food.

“Who says you’re my favorite? Maybe it’s Ghost.” Price smiles, and you beam back at him.

“Don’t insult me like that. I’m proud of my title as your favorite. I mean, I am the only one that you let lounge in your office.”

“Tenuously.”

“Still.”

His attention turns back to filling out his paperwork, leaving you to sit there. Per usual. You stay until all the food is gone, leaving him with only crumbs on his desk to show for it.

Sweeping the napkin and crumbs into his desk, you pause by the doorframe. His hat obscures his face, but you know he’s aware that you’re still there.

“Get some sleep sometime tonight, yeah?” You hedge.

“I should be the one telling you that.”

“Someone gotta look after you, Price. Besides, I’m not the one who doesn’t go to bed before daylight.”

Knocking at the door to signal your exit, you head out.

You treat your mouth as if it’s heavens gate The rest of you like you’re the TSA

"Never have I ever... been a virgin." Soap says, raising his beer.

"That's not how it fucking works." You argue. "You were a virgin at some point, obviously."

"You know wha' I mean."

"Just pick something else." Ghost butts in gruffly.

This is why you prefer not to play drinking games with the task force. Soap always ends up fucking them up first, and then it manages to devolve into chaos. For an elite spec ops team, 141 sure did struggle at these games.

"Fine." Soap groans, taking a drink of his beer while he thinks.

"In the meantime, I'll go-" Gaz starts, but immediately gets cut off.

"Never have I ever been a virgin right now."

You stare at Soap. He stares back. "I'm going to beat your ass for targeting during training tomorrow." You threaten him, taking a sip of your wine. You're the only one drinking wine here, but you prefer the taste of it over beer or whatever the others are drinking.

As you tilt your glass back, your eyes lock with Price's. You're reclined on the floor with Soap while he's in a chair, giving you the perfect line of sight on each other. He watches with dark eyes as you swallow, tracing your figure with a gaze so heavy that it makes you shiver.

In his hand, his whiskey remains untouched.

"You just need to get laid and then you won't be such an easy target." Soap is saying, oblivious to the tension simmering between you and Price.

"Unlike you dumbasses, I'm don't want to sleep with the first moving thing I see." You don't look away from Price pointedly. "I prefer to wait for the right person."

Ghost makes a disinterested noise from the chair next to Price, making you flick your gaze to him. He inclines his head slightly, well-aware of the thing between you and Price, but doesn't say a word. Thank fuck for Ghost.

"I'm heading to the bathroom. Don't set the room on fire while I'm gone. Soap."

"God, I didn't do anything yet!"

"Yet."

"I'll go too." Price says lowly, his footsteps tailing yours. It's not until you're in the hallway and out of earshot from the others that he speaks to you. "You're a tease, doll."

"I'm aware." You turn to grin at him, but startle at his proximity. He steps forward and you take a matching one back, your back hitting the hallway wall.

"In front of everyone, too." He murmurs, boxing you in. Your heartbeat pounds loudly in your ears, but not from fear. You know what fear feels like, and it certainly isn't the warmth pooling in your gut. "Begging for it."

"You know I have been."

His head dips, and just for a moment the bitter taste of whiskey invades your tastebuds. Your eyes flutter shut as his tongue swipes across yours, and when you open them he's gone.

Point, you.

As soft as the rain Pretty as a vine As sweet as a grape

John Price was everywhere.

His hands on your hips, his bookshelf pressing against your back, his mouth on yours. Every inch of him invaded every inch of you, and you loved it.

As it turns out, all you had to do was get shot in the field. A graze made well worth it by this reaction.

“Don’t you ever pull that shit again.” Price says into your mouth, hands tight on your skin like you’ll disappear. You’d worry that they’d leave bruises, but you already know your love looking at the reminder of him.

“Or what?” You taunt when he pulls back for air.

“Or I’ll tie you to my fucking bed.”

The threat lights your blood on fire in a way it’s never done before. Want, roaring strong, sears through you.

“Truly a terrifying prospect, the guy I’ve been waiting to ask me out finally taking me to his bed—“

He smothers your laughter with his lips and tongue, hand coming up behind your head to protect it from the shelves. You tug at his hair, earned yourself a low addicting sound. Yeah, you need to hear that more. A lot more.

“What’d medical say?” Price asks, dipping his head to trail kisses along your neck. Because he had been waiting to ambush you the second you stepped into his office, you never got to tell him.

“Um.” You struggle to collect any rational thoughts as he nips at your neck, his beard and mustache scratching your skin. “They cleared me. Wrapped it and said I was good.”

“And what do you think I have to say about that?”

Trick question.

You groan, but it comes out less annoyed and more like something entirely different. He hums in response before you can even be embarrassed by the sound.

“I don’t want to run for training.” You complain.

“I think you’ve gotten enough things that you want from me.” As if to serve as an example, he presses a quick kiss to your lips before pulling back. Not too far: his hands on your hips ensure he’s still got a hold on you.

“…maybe.” You relent, staring up at him.

He smiles, reassuring, and you know this is going to stick. “Pretty thing.”

“I know you are.”

“I was talking about you, doll.”

And you knew he was, you were making a joke, but the way he says it has your cheeks flaming. He laughs, breath fanning over your hair, amused.

“Let’s grab food from the mess hall.” He suggests.

“You? Actually grabbing food? At a reasonable time?” It’s a goddamn miracle.

“Yeah yeah, don’t rub it in. Wipe that smile off your face.”

“Yes sir.” You don’t wipe the smile off your face.

“I had my tongue in your mouth, I think you can stop calling me sir. Or Captain, frankly.”

“What, you don’t like that stuff?”

His eyes widen briefly. “Oh, you little—“

#john price #captain john price #captain price #task force 141 #call of duty #captain price x reader #john price x reader #captain johnathan price #cod #tf 141 #john price cod #john price x you #john price call of duty

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navybrat817 · 1 year

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Dusk to Dawn

Pairing: Ranch Hand!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky reflects on how far gone he is for you when he picks you up during a night out. Word Count: 1.56k Warnings: F/lirting, feels (it's me), dr/inking, pet name, implied s/mut, ranch hand!Bucky (he’s a warning, okay?) Graphic talent and thanks: Banner - @sgt-seabass , Divider - @firefly-graphics, Header - yours truly A/N: @rookthorne, this Sunbeam is for you. Also @sebastianstanbingo square: "I'm going to f-ucking ruin you."❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own! Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky put the truck in park once he arrived at the bar. It was a nice night, the air still warm enough that he had his window down on the drive over. He had to work a little later than usual and would’ve felt guilty missing dinner, but you had already made plans to go out with the girls. You still had a meal wrapped up and waiting for him once he finished out his day. Steve and the other boys were jealous of your home cooked meals and for good reason.

Always taking care of me, Sunbeam.

Now he had to take care of you.

The familiar sound of chatter and live country music greeted Bucky as he walked through the door. It was a slower night, but still crowded enough that he had to dodge a few people. Like many in the town, the two of you were regulars there and it was rare for you to be there without him. He tipped his hat when he made eye contact with Scott behind the bar, who nodded toward your usual table along the far wall.

"Bucky!" he heard you shout before he looked your way. "You're heeeeeeere!"

He wondered just how many drinks you had. Enough that you were feeling good, but not enough to get sick. You could hold your own.

"Now we can get the party started," he smirked.

What followed was a beautiful laugh as you stood up from your chair and he couldn't stop himself from staring. Your smile was like watching the sunrise and he felt lucky he was worthy enough to see it another day. You chose to wear one of his favorite sundresses and paired it with the perfect pair of boots, giving him a chance to appreciate your perfect body. He unconsciously licked his lips as he sauntered toward you and noticed you did the same.

"Seeeeeee, what did I tell you?" you asked the group at the table when he stopped a foot away from you. "I said I’d bag the hottest guy here tonight.”

"We know. We all know," Darcy playfully rolled her eyes at the other girls. "Bucky's hot and he has a big dick and you love him. Blah, blah, blah."

“I thought ladies didn't kiss and tell," Bucky smirked when you invaded his space.

"Oh, I stopped being a lady the moment you had your wicked way with me," you smiled sweetly. "You ruined me. Congratu-fucking-lations."

"Is that right?" he asked, knowing he'd never forget that night.

He'd also never forget to treat you like a lady.

He inhaled the sweet liquor on your breath when you framed his face and leaned in close. You didn’t quite kiss him, but you did smile when your lips ghosted against his. He yearned for more.

“It is right ‘cause I’m right. You’re hot and you do have a big dick you know it. You ruined me, mister,” you said, moving a hand to poke his firm chest. “And you're soooooooooooo cute. How’re you hot and cute? Explain.”

The laugh Bucky let out was enough to make your friends laugh along with him. You could be a sweet or feisty drunk depending on the mood. The last time you got feisty was when some out-of-towner tried to hit on him. You made sure to let her, and everyone else in the bar, know he was a taken man.

As if he could want anyone else when he had his Sunbeam.

“Just the way I'm made,” he smiled, placing his hands on your hips and lightly swaying you to the music. “Like I'm made to love you.”

You didn’t say “aww” along with your friends, but your gaze softened a bit more. He didn’t believe the bullshit that a man had to be silent or embarrassed about loving anyone. He loved you and he was going to say it as often as he could.

“Is that why you’re here tonight?” you asked, a dreamy smile on your face as you plucked his hat from his head and placed it on yours. The smile you gave him was one of his favorites. “'Cause you love me?

"Yeah, I am,” he smiled back, one reserved just for you. It was one of your favorites. “You called, so I came running."

Where you go, I go.

"Then it’s a good thing I'm ready to go home with you, handsome. But I'm warning you, I’m not planning on sleeping. Gonna keep me up from dusk to dawn," you said happily before a thoughtful look crossed your face. "Or is it dawn to dusk? Doesn't matter. You're fucking me. That's what matters."

"You know I gotta get up early tomorrow," he reminded you as he tried not to laugh.

He worked hard to keep the place running and so did you. The tasks wouldn't do themselves, but the enticing thought of your legs wrapped around him as he indulged in your wet heat was worth dragging a little tomorrow. He'd catch up on sleep later.

"Not the only thing that needs to get up," you said, smirking when the realization crossed his face. "Ohhhhhh. You picked up what I put down."

"Now you're just teasing me," he said.

You yanked him closer by his belt buckle. "Teasing you would be telling you I'm not wearing anything under this dress."

He groaned quietly, suddenly jealous of the chair you occupied before he showed up. "You want me to fuck you before we get home?"

He took pride in seeing a tremor wrack your frame. "You better, Bucky Barnes, otherwise I'm fucking myself."

Hot, but not tonight.

"Where?" he smirked.

"My pussy. That's where," you said without skipping a beat.

A random guy nearby drinking his beer might've heard the exchange since he began to cough. The two of you certainly had a way with words. He didn't care if the entire bar heard it.

"Oh, I'm fucking your pussy," he promised. It was a feat he didn't start to twitch in his jeans. "I meant where are we doing this."

You hummed as you contemplated. "Bathroom or truck bed."

The image of your pussy soaked and waiting for him to fill it took over his thoughts more and more. He wondered how much shit he'd get if he dragged you off to the bathroom. It wouldn't be the first time. Throwing inhibitions out the window was something he grew used to with you.

But the truck bed might be better. He could also least lay you down. Not the most romantic gesture, but also not the worst place two of you had fooled around.

The fun part would be deciding if it would be done in the parking lot or if he'd pull over on the way home.

"Truck it is," he announced as he pulled you away. "Say g'night, ladies."

"Yeah. Please, leave," Darcy teased.

You looked over your shoulder as the rest of your friends said their goodbyes. "G'night, ladies! I'm going home with that hottest guy in town. Don't come looking for me."

And I got the most beautiful, amazing girl in town.

"Take care of her!" Darcy yelled.

"He will! I'm his Sunbeam," you said proudly before you went out into the night air and leaned into him with a giggle. "Hey."

"Hey," he smiled back, keeping you against him.

"Did you hear me? I'm your Sunbeam," you whispered before you giggled. "I'm your girl! You know that, right?"

"Yeah, I know that," he chuckled at your happiness.

What you didn't know was that he had a ring ready for you so he could make it official. It wasn't fancy or flashy, but it was bright and beautiful. Like the sun.

Like you.

"Forever your girl?"

"Forever my girl," he replied, his voice thick when he put a hand to the back of your neck. "You'll always be mine, Sunbeam."

Butterflies fluttering from a kiss isn't just something that happened with girls. Because the second he put his lips against yours, he felt like he'd float away if you didn't keep him on the ground. Even with your tipsy gaze when he pulled away, there was so much love in your eyes. It was brighter than all the stars above you. It was unconditional.

And he wanted to treat you like he was still trying to win you so he'd never lose you.

"Promise?" you asked so softly he almost missed it.

"Even if the sun stopped rising tomorrow, you'd still be mine and I'd be yours."

You were it for him.

"Good," you sighed in relief before you began to drag him to the truck. "Now get inside me," you ordered.

"Oh, I will," he promised, watching your hips sway.

You didn't stumble once as you found the truck, You were an impressive woman. And he was so far gone for you.

I'm going to fucking ruin you.

He heard your sharp inhale from the words he didn't realize he said out loud. "Told you, Bucky. You already ruined me, but you can do it again," you said, tapping the top of your head. "And I'm keeping your hat on."

"Yes, ma'am," he chuckled, knowing those two words would send more shivers up and down your spine.

And he'd do a lot more than that before the sun came up.

Do we want more of them, lovelies? Love and thanks for reading. ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #ranch hand!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #ranch hand!bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au #sebstanbingo #ssbingo #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x you

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transhuman-priestess · 4 months

Text

Sometimes the struggles we go through to be ourselves can be as rewarding as the end result.

A pretty breezy one here. Only content notes are surgery mention and needle mention. No gore to be found, no sex neither. Just good ol' fashioned yearning.

This is definitely a bit of a right angle to my usual stuff. There's no horror, it's light on dialogue, but its in a very similar space to a lot of the other stuff, just a different way of going at it.

Daughter of Elysium

I scheduled the surgery without telling my parents. They wouldn’t understand.

When I came out as trans they were supportive, in perhaps the slightly awkward way that cis people tend to be when they want to be accepting of things they don’t understand. This was different though.

I sat in the waiting room of the clinic in Montevideo, lined with faux wood paneling and sleek glass. Peak 2010s architecture. An older building, but the clinic’s reputation spoke for itself. There was no way I was going to get this procedure done in North America. Too expensive, too niche.

Too many hoops to jump through, too. Go see this doctor, talk to this therapist. Walk with these crutches. Practice with this fake charger for a year. Bullshit, all of it. I just wanted to be me.

So I saved money where I could. I slept in the heat of the Californian summers, kept the lights off early in the winter, rode the train to work, ate cheap meals, canceled all my subscriptions, lived in a 300 sq foot apartment in Watsonville.

3 years and $100,000 Californian Dollars later, I got on a train in Santa Cruz for a 3-day journey to Uruguay.

It was late June, a few days before the solstice. This far south of the equator that meant the sun rose late and set early. It was early morning, a quarter to 7, and 5 hours ahead of California time. I was used to being awake at night, but that only made the early sunrise more disorienting.

“Lewis, Kara,” a thrill of adrenaline rushed through me as the receptionist called my name. After reciting my birthday to confirm my identity, I was taken back to preop. I changed into a surgical gown and then lay down on a gurney while a nurse ran an IV to my arm and started saline. I thought about asking what happened once the arm was removed, but I figured it wasn’t worth the explanation.

For the next 10 minutes I stared at the clock. I hadn’t brought anyone with me. This was something to do for me, by myself. No partner, no friends. I had brought a bag with one change of clothes, my passport, and my phone. I thought about calling my friend Cory, but decided against it. No sense in getting anyone worried. As far as the outside world was concerned, I was on vacation.

I guess that wasn’t too far from the truth.

At 7 sharp, a couple of orderlies came in, checked my name and date of birth, and released the brakes on the gurney. They wheeled me out into the chilled hallway, and through the double doors into the operating room.

Inside the surgeon, the anesthesiologist, and several techs were waiting. A nurse placed a mask on my face and told me to count backwards from ten. A sweet, chemical smell filled my nostrils, and the world faded out.

* * *

It wasn’t the first time I’d had surgery, so the novelty of coming up from the anesthesia surprised me. Rather than the slow, heavy feeling I’d expected, it was like waking up from a nap. Disorienting, but in a cozy way. Nothing hurt. I hadn’t expected that. Probably the painkillers were still feeding in.

I tried to open my eyes, but my lids only twitched slightly. I heard one of the nurses say “You’re awake! The doctor will be in to see you soon. Everything went well, congratulations.”

I tried to reply, but my jaw moved jerkily and I had trouble forming words. The result was a disjointed grunt emerging from my mouth. But I could tell that I had a mouth, which was good.

The nurse left. I could hear his shoes squeaking off into the distance. As they faded, the thrum of the HVAC replaced it, and an occasional mechanical whirring near me. My eyes were still closed, and for the first time I noticed the green letters in the corner of my vision. Instinctively, I tried to look at them, but they moved with my eyes. After a time I was able to make them stay put long enough to look at them.

ARLINGTON ROBOTICS SYSTEMS

BANGOR, WASHINGTON, CASCADE REPUBLIC

I managed to open my eyes after a few minutes. At first it was all much too bright, everything blown to white, but after a few seconds my vision dimmed to a comfortable level. I focused on a tiny hole in the floating ceiling above. After a moment, I managed to zoom my vision in.

I marveled for a time at the detail in the ceiling. This mass-produced object, fiberglass and paper, contained so much beauty. How many times had I stared a ceiling like this without noticing?

The doctor came in and reaffirmed that everything had gone well. She told me that rehab would start in a few days, once my new body’s systems stabilized and adjusted to neural commands. I tried to smile but couldn’t manage to get my face to move right.

The doctor chuckled and plugged a display into a port on the back of my new neck. She held it up to me, and I watched as the words “What is this for?” appeared on it. She explained that until my vocal rehab started to kick in, this display would help me communicate.

She told me to raise my arms out to my sides. I struggled with this task for a moment before finally managing to do so. For the first time I got a look at the body I’d picked out from the inside.

Gray plating, seams that slid over each other, an unapologetically mechanical body. I’d wanted that. They’re getting good at synthetic skin these days, but I wanted to distance myself from humanity. There was nothing wrong with humanity, but it never spoke to me. I’d always been somewhat apart.

* * *

I slept most of that first day. The next day they let me eat. The bioprocessor seemed to be working, the staff said, but I should keep it light, and stick to carbs rather than fat and protein until the new tract could build up a sufficient biome to support those.

Odd as it sounds, it was 36 hours post-op before I realized I hadn’t peed. The charging station that I hooked into took care of filtration and detox of what little biomass I had left. I felt suddenly elated. I actually tried to get up out of bed, and promptly tripped over my own foot, smashing my face against a wall.

The nurses rushed in, worry on their faces, but I couldn’t stop laughing, and that’s when I heard my voice.

It wasn’t like my old voice. It wasn’t cold and computerized, but warm, and rich, like an old Roland Jupiter, full of dense harmonics, singing highs, and comforting, enveloping lows.

Soon I was sitting on the floor, sobbing. My eyes didn’t water anymore, but I still went through the motions. I held my gray plastic hands to my face, and touched them to my cheeks. I felt the subtle vibrations as motors moved my eyes around. I had never felt so happy, so myself. So real.

* * *

After a week I was able to clumsily walk around the hospital room, and they moved me to the recovery house. I met a few other converts there. There was a girl named Morgan from Seattle, a guy named Case from Kansas City, a few others. I mostly kept to myself.

I started speech therapy shortly after the move. Lots of reading convoluted sentences, but also singing, reading poetry, even some play-acting. I grew to love my voice. It was obviously synthetic, but that only made it feel more like a part of me.

Motor therapy was interesting. They asked me if I played any instruments. I told them I played bass. The therapist walked to a closet and returned with a bass made entirely out of carbon fiber. I asked why they made it from that, the therapist told me I’d see shortly, and handed me the Bass.

I immediately gripped the neck with far more force than I’d intended, denting the frets and the strings. I said I understood now.

Time flew. The solstice came and went, and by August I could speak clearly, play “Highway Star,” and wash my own chassis without damaging it. I could dress myself. I could walk without tripping over my feet.

On an evening in early August, I bade farewell to my fellow converts at the recovery house, and made my way to the train station. I could have taken a cab, or the bus, but I opted to walk. It was 8 miles and took all night, but I enjoyed every moment of it. Never tiring, stopping for food to recharge myself here and there at convenience stores and night markets.

I settled into my roomette for the trip back to Santa Cruz, looking out at Montevideo Bay. I saw my reflection in the window of my train, and for the first time, really took it in, with eyes that were my own.

#ivy michaels writing #robot girl #cyborg girl #cyborg #transhumanism #cyborg conversion

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puffein · 9 months

Text

WAITING HOURS AND SUNRISES | late spring [v.]

summary: wanda's abrupt change in attitude marked the beginning of an unrepairable disaster. pairings: wanda maximoff x fem!reader warnings: angst, profanities, insults, mean wanda word count: 1117 a/n: my personal fave chapter...!

series masterlist playlist!

New Brunswick, New Jersey

Early-July 2022

Thomas Christopher Greene once stated in a book, "Time can be slowed if you live deliberately. If you stop and watch sunsets. If you spend time sitting on porches listening to the woods. If you give in to the reality of the seasons."

But right now, time doesn't slow down for you as you sit hours and hours long on the window ledge of your best friend's dorm living room. You can feel the hardness of the wall right at your back, your knees pulled up tightly on your chest, arms wrapped loosely around it.

You gave in to the reality of the season though, summer nights are always wonderful for some people, however, these past summer nights have not been made for you as you have spent them waiting patiently for a certain someone to arrive safely in the comforts of their room.

Your hair shifts lightly with the swift motions of your head turning upon hearing the quiet sound of keys and profanities right behind the door.

Altering your body out of the ledge soundlessly, you mutter, "Where were you?"

"Jesus, you scared me." Wanda's soft voice echoes throughout her dorm, clearly having the knowledge that her loud voice wouldn't wake up her already sleeping roommate.

She huffs out, slender fingers going through her unruly hair, "You're here again?"

You watch her quietly, nodding your head in resignation as you walk past her, "Just wanted to see if you arrived safely." you say.

Wanda. Wanda has been doing this for the past months. Going out late, going home late. Missing your friendly dates, the sitcom days, the months of months plans the both of you made last year was now forgotten, thrown out like a piece of antique.

Useless and vintage.

You didn't know what changed.

"I'm not a child, you know." she harshly replies, accent coming out strong and venomous. You halted your steps, shoulders tense at the voice she was using at you.

"You don't have to go here, bother Darcy, and wait for me to arrive like some obsessed best friend who can't seem to live without hanging out with me. Stop being so clingy."

Okay.

"I just wanted to see if you arrived safely," she mocked, her phony voice skirting around the corners of your breaking heart. "Bullshit. We both know you're just afraid to be alone. Well, guess what Y/N, I am sick of that. I am sick of you."

Ever felt like someone stabbing you right in your chest, okay, wrong. This doesn't feel like stabbing to you, this felt like a bomb going off, and the pieces of your heart fly in different directions and it doesn't stop there. The pain continues on as someone's pair of hands and feet crush every tiny piece laying steadily on the floor.

That pair of hands and feet are Wanda's.

"You're not gonna say anything?" she says exasperatedly, face warp in aggravation as she stares at your back.

You have many things to say to her. Many unsaid things that you know will go deaf in her perfectly working ears. You want to say how she's been a shitty best friend ever since she met that dude at a party, how you are grasping at that tiny piece of friendship that you knew is being broken piece by piece as the time goes by, how when you look at her, you don't see her, you see a stranger living in the body of your best friend. Of the one you dearly love so much you would go into deeper depths just to see her happy.

You wanted to say that but instead, you utter these words, "What do you want me to say?"

Wanda groans, "Anything! Just— I don't know, say something." she says desperately, trying to make you understand something that you clearly can't comprehend.

"I'm gonna go." You take a step forward, towards the door only to be stopped by her tight grip on your arm.

"You can't just go."

"Wanda, I can't fucking understand you right now. Are you drunk? Are you high?" you snapped at her, voice in an edge as you turn to stare right at her face.

She opens her mouth to say something but you are clearly not done with your words.

"What do you want me to fucking say? That you've been such a bitch lately? That, what, the old woman I met on the bus weeks ago felt more like a best friend than you ever did for these past months? What do you want me to fucking say?" you finally declare, your brows furrowed, jaw tense with fist clenched tightly against your palm.

Wanda loosens the grip on your arm as she drinks in every word you have said to her. Not wanting to stare longer at the realization that is coming to her face, your back faces her again as your hand clutches the doorknob and latches it open for you to walk away.

"Y/N, wait—"

You whip your body fast to glower at her, "No, you listen. I fucking don't know what has gotten into you to treat me like this. We were doing fine then I just woke up with you ignoring me. I did this because I care and the friendship I have with you matters."

The timbres of your voice quiver, undertones of heartache can be heard in the staggering of your hardened voice, "But fucking shit, Wanda. You could've just told me you're tired of being in this friendship. I would have respected that, you don't have to make me feel so worthless."

Watching the light trembles of her lips and the brave step she took closer to you, you can see the morphing of hurt flashing right at her face. You're confused. She intentionally spurted those words at you, how come she has the guts to look so anguished?

"Y/N, I just—"

But you are already walking away, time slowing down with your breathing rigid and labored. Your steps are filled with regret at how you have thrown those words at her. You didn't mean it, as much as you want to mourn for whatever has gone downhill for the both of you, what you have said to her was the truth and you didn't really care right now as you are greeted with a magnificent vision of the sun slowly rising for the world to see.

Funny, you should have listened to Thomas Greene and spent your time sitting on porches listening to the sound of the woods instead of waiting till the sun rises just to make sure your best friend arrived safely.

general masterlist ◄ ►

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#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff angst #wanda maximoff fanfic #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff mcu #wanda fanfic #wanda maximov #wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda maximoff marvel #wanda maxmoff x y/n #wanda marvel #wanda mcu #wanda x y/n

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killsaki · 1 year

Text

nothing compares ☆ there’s not a soul that can compete with the way shuji’s is forever intertwined with your own… but as you grow apart, he knows one day you’ll outgrow that mindset too.

hanma shuji x female reader.

2.8k words. | minors dni. | read on ao3.

cw / tw : unprotected sex, angsty exes with benefits, mentions of violence&wounds, weed, reader is called ‘girl’ a few times.

“oh fuck no.” you hear hanma laugh from where he’s reading your dms with ran haitani over your shoulder. “that’s what you’re into now, huh?”

“shu’.” you scoff, you’re only showing him the messages in the first place because he was so persistent on hearing who has been hitting on you since the last time the two of you called it quits. and after how you mentioned the way that the older haitani brother approaches you–and how it was such a waste because he’s so pretty–hanma just had to see for himself. “i can’t do the dry shit. he wants me to come on to him, that’s so–”

“why don’t you?” he interrupts, switching the sucker in his mouth over to his other cheek.

“because that’s lame.” you tilt away from your screen to look up at him, finding him already looking back at you with his eyebrows raised.

“you used to come onto me all the time.” a corner of his mouth starts to lift the longer you stare in disbelief at his lie.

“that’s such bullshit.” you shake your head, rolling your eyes as you fight a laugh. “you basically beg for me.”

“you said that like we fuck anymore,” he breaks the eye contact, twirling the stick of the sweet between his fingers. “either way you got the wrong guy, slut.”

“i should knock you in your shit.” you do laugh, dryly, with that, half from his audacity and the rest from how much you missed someone who throws punches while catching your own. something that hanma’s always done– something you look for in every guy because of him.

“i’d like that,” the bed creaks under his weight as he falls back onto his pillows, staring at you with a smirk on his face that makes your stomach flip the same way it always has. “make it hurt.”

“see?” you gesture towards him halfheartedly before turning away, attempting to starve off what you’ll fall victim to if you even look at him for too long. neither of you are to blame for the way the universe had lined up the meeting the two of you had as impressionable teens, how you both fell head first into each and became a living breathing piece of the other’s heart. “begging for it.”

hanma laughs under his breath, propping himself up on one of his forearms making the bed dip closer to you, drawing your attention just like you know he planned, slowly reeling you into him. “do you ever shut up?”

you’re met with amethyst eyes that watch you so carefully, a playful expression that you know hides his anxiety of you possibly not leaning into him the way he’s trying to meet you there. you feel you heart beat so hard in your chest that it hurts at the thought of giving into him again. you know it’ll hurt just as much as the last time the two of you agreed to stop seeing each other when he gets into another fight that has him knocking at your door at three in the morning to patch him up while he refuses to tell you the details of why it happened in the first place.

you know you’ll start to stress every time he doesn’t answer his phone, that you’ll jump at the sound of every motorcycle hoping that it’s him on days that he disappears from your bed before sunrise. but you can also feel the ghost of the ache you’ve felt after every failed date, after you’ve talked to another guy for weeks just to meet up with him and hate everything about him. to search for every inch, every fiber of hanma shuji’s being in every single man that approaches you because to you, he’s the best there is–the only one for you. he’s defined what love is for you, in the way the both of you can bully one another between kisses, eat off each others plates even if you’ve got the same exact thing, how he’s the only person who has held you while you cried, the only one who has fought on your behalf. how intimacy comes so easy with him, how he can strip you down, from your hard exterior and your clothes. how he can make you so bare and honest for him in every way imaginable, how you feel so safe wrapped in him.

the old bed springs scream as he reaches over to his nightstand, tossing the now empty stick on the wrapper before leaning back and shrugging, telling you that it’s your move to make.

you swallow the lump in your throat before speaking, hoping your anxiety doesn’t bleed into your words. “you can try to make me.”

“want me to?” he responds too fast for you not to crack a smile.

you only nod, which he copies as he sits up and grabs you before you can fight back, making you squeal his name as he drags you up on his bed so you’re laid on his pillows. those which he clears from under you, leaving only one—not wanting to hear you complain afterwards how the angle made your neck hurt so he’s forced into giving you a pity massage like he has a million times before.

“didn’t i tell you to shut up?” his fingers gently dig into your cheeks, forcing you to look up at where he’s kneeled between your legs.

“i ‘dunno,” you lick your lips, staring at him as your heart starts to race from his touch. “did you?”

“yeah,” he dips down, bringing his face only centimeres from your own. “but you’ve never listened though, huh?”

you can feel his small smile press against yours as your eyes close from the euphoric feeling that is his lips on yours. his kiss tastes like the cherry suckers he’s started to buy in bulk to avoid smelling too much like cigarette smoke around you, because he knows you won’t kiss him if it’s too strong. and hanma can handle a lot of things but you rejecting his touch, let alone his kisses, is not one of them.

he hovers over you, hand leaving your face to smooth over your clothes, wander down your side while yours start to twitch where they’ve fallen– needing to touch him too.

“lean up.” he whispers, not a demand but something you instinctively comply with.

lifting slightly, he quickly takes your top off, your bra following suit and you don’t have a chance for the oscillating fan he keeps at then end of his bed to turn your way so you can complain about how you’re cold before he’s stripping off his own shirt and pressing his skin to yours. hanma’s body heat encases you, and immediately your hands make their way to wrap around the back of his neck. one tangling into his hair while the other slides down between his shoulders, locking him in place—as if he would ever think about pulling away from you.

he breaks the kiss only to mutter for you to ‘lift your hips, baby’, so he can pull off and throw your bottoms to join where your other clothes have made the floor a minefield.

he sucks in a sharp breath before cracking a sly smile at the sight of you exposed, only for him. this time you do feel the cool air blow against you. your slick covered mound being to target, making you shiver as hanma chuckles down at you.

“my good girl,” his praise fans across your collarbone as he leans back over you, “how’d you get so wet, hm?”

“you know…” you can feel your chest press against his as your breathing becomes heavy all on its own. your body is trained to treat hanma’s touch like that of a savior, to offer everything you have to him—to make it easy for him to take what he pleases if it means you’ll be rewarded with him in the end.

you shiver as he drags his lips up along the side of your neck, “remind me.”

your face burns at the thought of having to admit what he already knows, of having to say aloud that he alone can make you feel so blissed out just from fingertips and lips against skin.

“because it’s you, shu’.”

you feel the messy sheet tighten beneath your head, but the moment you feel it, it’s gone again. even the hand disappears, making it way down between your thighs. you lose any jabs you could’ve thrown as your lashes flutter from the feeling of hanma’s rough touch gliding through your folds. you can’t stop yourself from latching onto him again, arms tangle around him the second he starts to rub circles into your clit.

you’re so weak beneath him, only able to moan through parted lips and momentarily catch sight of him soaking in your expressions through blurry vision. it’s not until you start to chase his touch, start to babble his name that he pulls away, leaving you at the edge of what could’ve been an orgasm.

“shit, girl.” he hisses, adjusting himself out of your sight.

“i’m girl?” you scoff weakly at his words.

“yeah,” he gives you a sly smirk that makes you want to punch him in the chest, but as he’s so good at doing—your fight dies when he sets the fire in your nerves by rubbing the tip of his cock through your folds. “my girl.”

your heart feels like it’s going to come out of your throat at his words, even through the haze of lust you know it’s wrong—unfair of him to say. but, everything in you wants so badly for it to just be true again, your entire being wants to belong to him.

you know that he knows too—that’s why he shushes you so softly as he pushes the head of him in. it’s why he rests on his forearms just above you, cradling your head as he kisses you so softly that if one were to see it, they wouldn’t believe it was him.

your body tries to focus on the stretch he gives, how perfect it feels, how right. how it already feels like you’re going to faint from pleasure, but your heart can’t stop the ache that his words give.

“my pretty girl,” he whispers between kisses, “my perfect girl,” his mouth moves, but not far—kissing down your chin and along your jaw as his hips start a slow pace, “my favorite girl.”

“your—” you hiccup without thinking—a push against your softest wall cutting you off with an involuntary moan—wanting to ask why ‘favorite’ when once it was ‘only’.

“mine.” he mumbles against your skin, making your heart squeeze yet again.

he pushes his hips against yours, pressing as far as he can reach making you squirm under him no matter how many times he’s done it.

“hanma.” you grit, digging your nails into his shoulders when he doesn’t let up, even as he groans from the pain.

his head pulls away from you, to look into your eyes, his own slitted as he glares down at you. “who?”

“move.” you ball up your fist to hit his back but he relents before you can make contact, and pulls out of you completely.

“fine.” he presses his weight against one of your arms, acting as if he’ll climb off you entirely.

“shuji,” you stop him with your hold, closing your eyes and letting out a shaky sigh. you regret agreeing to see him, regret coming over, regret letting your heart lure you back underneath him with all its longing, but more than regret, there is a feeling of need that you can’t shake. no matter who wants your attention, no matter what you’re promised, no matter where you are–your soul aches for him. you open your eyes to find his deep lavender ones staring back at you. your vision is blurry, cheeks wet—you wonder when the tears started to fall. “please, i need you.”

“yeah?” his voice is rough, before he swallows, bordering the dangerous line of desperation. “say it again.”

“i,” you start, using a shaky hand to reach between you and wrap around his cock, he lets you guide him back to where your cunt aches to be filled by him. “need you, shu’.”

his head falls into the juncture of your neck once again, hips pushing forward, driving any other thought but the way he makes you feel, physically, out of your mind. you can’t help but to squeeze around him, your arms tightening in time with the way your walls hug his cock—not a bit of you wanting to let him go.

“say you love me.” his voice vibrates against you, and you feel a shatter as you give in to him.

“i love you, shu’.” you whisper back, more tears blurring your vision and spilling over as you squeeze them your eyes tight. your heart pours off your tongue as you give him everything he asks for. “love you, love you, love—”

“c’mon, baby.”

“shu’,” the back of your head digs deeper into his pillow, jaw falling slack for a moment as the knot in your stomach tightens. your voice cracks,, but you can’t even think of caring when you so desperately need him to—“kiss me.”

“shit.” he doesn’t waste another second before pressing his mouth onto yours, hips keeping their pace as he brings a white hot heat flooding through your veins. it’s almost immediate, the way his high follows your own. he groans your name against your lips as he fills your cunt with white, unable to deny the way that it milks him, begging for it.

as you both calm, you can hear his heavy breathing, feel the shortness of his breath against your chest.

“it’s all those cigarettes.” you speak before you think, joking quietly. you half expect him to ignore your words, change the subject as not to admit you’re right.

“huh?” he nudges you playfully with his nose. “what was that?”

“i said it’s all tho—ah.” he presses his now softening cock deep into your sensitive walls once again without warning, making you grimace. “fuck you.”

he laughs at that, and you mirror it, hands mindlessly massaging his scalp while you both catch your breath; for a moment, everything is normal, perfect, again.

“i love you.” he speaks softly from above you, searching in your eyes in a way that twists something deep in your gut, and you have to look away. you unwrap your arms to push at his chest gently, hoping he’ll get the hint and get off of you. which he does, so achingly slowly pulling out from between your legs and away from you completely.

“wanna stay over?” he asks from where he’s hunched over on the side of the bed, likely reaching for his boxers.

you stare blankly at his back, making sure you memorize how badly your chest hurts in this moment so that you’ll remember to say no the next time he tries to goad you into seeing him. you shake your head when he turns to you. you attempt to stand from the bed to search for your clothes.

“you can at least smoke and eat then.” he offers, but it comes out more as a question, a plead.

you blink at him, a pit forming in your stomach that feels like is the perfect size for your heart to fall out of.

you know that one day, this will be over. one day he’ll be surrounded by more violence than you can handle, and he’ll find a woman who can. it makes you want to freeze time this very second, where he’s looking at you with a knowing little grin, but pretty eyes heavy with desperation to stay in your presence just a little longer. you want to pause this moment and put it in a locket so that in a year from now, when you are no longer in contact with him, you can remember what it was like when you still had him.

“you’re not gonna make me cook, are you?” you chose to grab his shirt from the floor instead of your own, pulling it over your head as an excuse to break eye contact.

“i’d rather not eat some burnt shit.” he tosses his phone to you with a hum, almost turning away fast enough that you miss his little smile. “you can order while i roll.”

maybe it’s a cycle doomed to repeat until the worst happens, maybe one day it’ll be three years since the two of you have even spoken. maybe there will come a time where you know nothing about his life, where he doesn’t love you anymore. and there will definitely be more pain, more tears, more yearning.

but right now, you can still spend his money on your meal that you’ll only eat half of before you steal his. you can wear his shitty shirt and smoke all his good weed. and for tonight, you can still hold him against you—and in this moment, that’s all he asks from you.

alternatively titled therapy.

reblogs + feedback appreciated/encouraged <3

#hanma shuji x reader #hanma shuji smut #hanma shuuji smut #hanma shuuji x reader #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x you #hanma shuji x you #hanma shuji x y/n #tokyo revengers x y/n #hanma shuji #tokyo revengers

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shootmetwice25 · 1 year

Text

Moonlight to Sunrise

Tzuyu x Male Reader

Shoutout to @capslocked for helping me with the plot. Super unedited lol. BFH go brrrrrrrr. Enjoy!

2.2k Words

“Moonlight sunrise”

Loud applause follows after Jihyo closes the new Twice song. You clap as well before standing up from your table and making your way over to the bar. JYP set up a company party to celebrate Twice’s new english release and there’s an open bar, so might as well take advantage of that.

You take a sip of your drink as the members take turns thanking the staff. Another loud applause as Twice exit the stage. Conversation resumes filling up the large room as you continue to sip your drink. You’ve been part of the producing team for Twice for years now and this is the first time there’s been a party for the release of a new song. As long as you get free drinks, you’re all for it.

You’re too busy soaking it all in that you don’t realize that a young woman approached you.

“Hey,” she says. Her soft voice alerts you to her presence.

“Oh, hi Tzuyu.”

She looks a little sideways at you. “What are you doing here all alone? Shouldn’t you be celebrating with your team?”

“Uh, I was just getting a drink,” you say, holding up the glass you have in your hand.

“Yeah, I see that,” she says. An awkward silence lingers in the air for a few seconds before Tzuyu speaks again. “So uh, we haven’t talked in a while. Since…” her voice trails off.

You look away from her before finishing her sentence. “Since you dumped me.”

“Yeah,” she says.

“So, how are you guys?” you ask, taking a large swig of your drink before placing it down on the table.

“Oh, we aren’t together anymore. It just didn’t click, you know.”

A lot of things go through your mind as you hear that new piece of information. You look at her and nod. “Right.”

“I should probably get going,” you say as you look at your watch. “Boss wants me in early tomorrow morning.

You start to stand but Tzuyu grabs your arm with her gloved hand. “Wait,” she says. “I- I need to talk to you.”

“You broke my heart, Tzu. And I know it’s been a while but I just don’t feel like I can just talk to you right now,” you say before gently removing her hand from your arm.

You walk through the doors and into the parking lot, unsure of what you should be feeling. She left you for another guy and they aren’t even together anymore. She broke your heart for nothing.

You reach your car and unlock the door, but before you open it, you hear a voice yelling “Wait!” You sigh as you watch Tzuyu run to you. Her black outfit blends into the darkness of the night, but the moonlight illuminates her figure.

When she reaches you, she doesn’t even give you a chance to say anything. She lunges at you, pinning your body between the car door and herself and she kisses you.

You are absolutely shocked and it takes you a second before you push her off of you. “Tzuyu, what are you doing?!”

She pants, out of breath from running. “I-I made a mistake. I was stupid. I need you,” she says frantically. “Being away from you made me realize that you’re the one I want. You’re the one I need. And I know you still want me too. I can see it in your eyes everytime you look at me.”

“How- how do I know you’re not just bullshitting?”

She takes a deep breath. “Let me show you.”

Tzuyu closes the distance and attaches her lips to your once again. This time you don’t resist and you kiss her back. She was right. You still want her. You’ve missed her. You’ve missed her touch, her soft lips, everything about her you’ve missed.

The kiss is full of passion. A reaffirmation of feelings that were always there. Your lips are still connected by a string of saliva when Tzuyu slowly pulls away from the kiss. You both pant and stare into each other’s eyes.

Suddenly Tzuyu drops to her knees and starts to undo your belt.

“Wait Tzuyu. What are you doing? Right here? Right now?”

“Just let me do this, okay,” she says as she’s able to get your pants undone and slide them down your legs.

You don’t protest. If Tzuyu wants to blow you in the middle of a parking lot, who are you to say no?

She holds your semi hard cock in her gloved hand and licks the tip, immediately hardening your cock and sending shockwaves through your body. Tzuyu licks a few more times then puts half your cock into her mouth. Her mouth is so warm and moist. Her saliva coats your cock and her tongue swirls giving you an intense sensation. Her right hand pumps the base of your cock, the glove giving her extra friction. You haven’t felt Tzuyu’s touch in so long that you almost cum immediately.

“Fuck Tzuyu,” you moan as you place your hands on Tzuyu’s head, guiding her head back and forth. You watch as Tzuyu’s head bobs in the moonlight. You never thought you’d be able to get intimate with Tzuyu again, but here you are, in a parking lot, getting a blowjob by the prettiest woman in existence.

You want this to last forever, but a combination of the situation and Tzuyu’s incredible ability to blow your cock, you feel your orgasm coming.

“I’m gonna cum, Tzu,” you grunt, barely able to get the words out because of the pleasure.

Tzuyu releases your cock from her lips with a pop and starts pumping it with her hand. You moan loudly as your cum shoots onto Tzuyu, painting her perfect face. Rope after rope of your warm cum coats her face. You wish there was more light so you could really see her face.

Tzuyu puts your sensitive cock back into her mouth to clean it up and you groan and almost fall over. She giggles before standing up and taking off the glove on her right hand. She stares at you as she glides her finger across her cheek where it collects some of the cum. Then she puts the finger in her mouth.

“Mmmm,” she moans. “You taste so good.”

She does it again and again. And you just watch her. It’s so sexy and seductive.

“Let’s go back to my apartment,” she says.

————————————————————————

The short drive back to her apartment is filled with sexual tension. Tzuyu cleans her face off with a combination of her finger and a tissue. It’s extremely hard for you to keep your eyes on the road. Luckily, there aren’t that many cars on the road tonight.

The second Tzuyu opens the door, the two of you are on each other like wild animals. Your lips are all over each other, tongues exploring every nook and cranny of the other. Tzuyu flicks the switch to a small lamp that slightly brightens the room enough for you to see all her beautiful features.

Tzuyu pushes you down onto a couch then quickly takes off her gloves and furry top. She takes her bra off too, revealing her small and cute mounds. She also drops her pants to the floor and she’s just left in a lacy black underwear.

Her figure is special. Her tits are small but just the right size for her. Her waist is incredibly slim that leads to wide hips. Her ass is plump and nice and round. And her legs. Oh, her legs. You’ve spent an unknown amount of time staring and worshiping her legs. Her thighs legitimately make your mouth water.

Tzuyu lets you stare at her body for a few moments then she kneels down and slides your pants and underwear off your legs. Your cock is already rock hard.

Tzuyu maneuvers her body so that her chest is right above your cock. “I haven’t done this before,” she says as she squeezes her tits together and impales your cock in between her breasts.

“Does it feel good?” Tzuyu asks, moving her chest up and down.

“Fuck yes Tzuyu. It feels really good,” you say as you moan.

Tzuyu smiles. “Good”. Then Tzuyu begins to suck the tip of your cock with her lips as she pumps your cock with her tits.

“Ohhhhh, fuck Tzuyu,” you groan. This is the first time she’s given you a titjob and her tits may be small, but everything she does makes you feel so damn good.

It doesn’t take long before you feel another orgasm coming.

“I’m cumming,” you grunt as a rope of cum shoots up and lands on Tzuyu’s neck. She moans as your cum paints her breasts. Her breasts milk your cock dry and you slump back into the couch. Tzuyu does the same thing as before and takes her finger to taste more of your cum.

“Mmmmmm. So good,” she moans. “Let’s go to the bedroom.”

She helps you up and the two of you make your way to her bedroom, your tongues exploring each other’s mouth the whole way there.

“Eat me,” Tzuyu says as she lays on her back on the bed. Her fingers have moved her panties to the side revealing her pussy.

You don’t have to be told twice. You dive right in between her thighs. Her taste is so sweet. Like nectar from a goddess. You lick and suck her pussy, wanting to taste as much of her as you can. Tzuyu’s hands grip your hair, pulling you into her more. Her moans are heavenly. Soon, you can’t hear her moans anymore as her thighs wrap around your head, covering your ears. The more pleasure she feels the tighter her thighs squeeze your head. Her thighs squeeze tighter and tighter and it gets hard to breathe. She’s getting close and she won’t let your head go until she cums. There’s a good chance that you’ll die from suffocation or a crushed skull from her thighs. And honestly, there’s no other way you would want to die from. You keep eating her until she’s satisfied or you die. You can’t hear or see anything. You just use your tongue to pleasure her.

You feel Tzuyu’s body shake and the pressure on your skull increases tenfold. You wouldn’t be surprised if your skull actually gets crushed by her massive thighs. Luckily for you, after a few moments of intense shaking from Tzuyu, you feel the pressure begin to relieve and eventually you hear Tzuyu moaning and panting. Tzuyu’s juices are all over your mouth and you do your best to lap it all up.

“Fuck me,” Tzuyu demands as she gets on all fours.

You take up a position behind her and insert your cock into her soaking wet pussy. There isn’t a need for teasing. She needs you and you need her.

You grab her hips and push your cock all the way into her, as far as you can. Both of you let out loud moans.

“You’re so big,” Tzuyu moans.

Your cock is super sensitive from the two orgasms from early so you know if you go too fast this won’t last as long as you or her want, so you decide on long deep strokes.

You get into a rhythm, making sure to hit her deepest spot and to pull her hips back into you as you thrust into her.

“Oh fuck, you stretch me so much,” Tzuyu groans. “Keep fucking me like that.”

You keep going. You watch as her ass ripples and thighs jiggle with each thrust.

Tzuyu looks back at you. “Fuck me harder.”

If you fuck her harder, you’ll cum soon, but she wants it, so you’ll give it to her. You move your hands and grab on to her still cum soaked tits and you start to pound her.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck!” Tzuyu’s screams are in sync with each hard and fast thrust into her.

The sound of wet skin slapping echoes in the room along with your grunts and Tzuyu’s moans.

You fuck her hard and fast as long as you can.

“I’m- gonna- cum,” you say in between grunts and through gritted teeth.

“Yes! Cum in me! Please cum in me, baby!” Tzuyu yells out.

One final thrust and you lodge your cock deep into Tzuyu and cum erupts. You have no idea how you still have so much cum. It must be the power of Tzuyu.

Tzuyu moans as your cock completely fills her with your warm cum. Her body spazzes from another orgasm as well. Both of her hands are on top of yours on her breasts. It’s pure bliss.

Once your orgasm passes you fall straight back onto the bed. You have no energy left but Tzuyu climbs between your legs and starts to lick your cock.

“Tzuyu, I’m so tired,” you say weakly.

Tzuyu giggles. “We have to make up for the lost time. Baby, let’s do it all night.”

…

#tzuyu #chou tzuyu #twice tzuyu #male reader #tzuyu smut #twice smut

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babydollmarauders · 1 year

Text

HITS DIFFERENT— JACK HUGHES

final part of the Midnights Fic List

summary: in which y/n and Jack were in a relationship for 4 years before deciding to go separate ways, but everything reminds her of him and y/n realizes she’s made a mistake by letting him go.

specific lyrics: “i washed my hands of us at the club, you made a mess of me. i pictured you with other girls in love, then threw up on the street.” and “they say that if it's right, you know. each bar plays our song, nothing has ever felt so wrong.” and “i find the artifacts, cried over a hat, cursed the space that i needed. i trace the evidence, make it make some sense why the wound is still bleedin'. you were the one that i loved.” and “i heard your key turn in the door down the hallway. is that your key in the door? is it okay? is it you?” and “i never don't cry at the bar. yeah, my sadness is contagious. i slur your name 'til someone puts me in a car.” and “love is a lie; shit my friends say to get me by.”

notes: i don't know how i feel about this one. i feel like i could've potentially done better, but anyways MIDNIGHTS FIC LIST IS OFFICIALLY DONE! it's a month later than i had originally wanted to finish it, but it's finally done!

the reflection staring back at me is a bit of a hot mess. mascara smudged, hair tousled, lipstick fading. i stare in the mirror until i feel the sting of the hot water on my hands, pulling them back with a hiss of pain. the alcohol running through my veins helps me avoid overthinking about this dingy club bathroom, my shoes sticking to the floor with every step. but the buzz does nothing to help with the thoughts that run through my mind when i hear the song that’s blasting from the speakers throughout the club.

“y/n/n, you good?” my head snaps over to Marie, her upper body peeking in through the bathroom door. one look at me makes her sigh. “you’re thinking about him again, aren’t you?”

“it’s our song.” i explain, as though she hasn’t heard the same excuse at every other bar we’ve been to in the past six months.

“i know it is, hun.” she gives me a pitiful smile, fully entering the grimy bathroom in order to grab my hand.

“it just feels so wrong hearing it without him.” tears well up in my eyes, my heart hurting just a little extra.

“let’s go get you another drink.” i give a numb nod in response, letting her lead me to our other friends that sit in a booth by the bar. at the sight of my state, they both give each other an unspoken glance before giving me a look of pity.

“i ordered you another tequila sunrise.” Beth tells me, sliding the drink towards me. i drop into the booth, muttering a short ‘thanks’ before gulping at the drink.

“lay it on us, babe. what’s on your mind tonight?” Lisa pipes up, sipping at her own drink and raising a brow at me.

“i just— they say that if it’s right, you know. and i thought we were right. but, it makes no sense because why didn’t i know until we broke up? i mean, i knew. obviously i knew, i followed him here from Michigan. but, i didn’t know know until we separated, ya know?”

“i’m gonna be honest, i only understood maybe half of what you just said.” Lisa says, making Beth and Marie giggle. “but love is a lie, y/n/n. sure, you can like someone enough to be with them for a long time, but romantic love? complete bullshit. it doesn’t exist. this isn’t the movies.”

“she’s right. and the quicker you realize that, the quicker you’ll get over him.” Marie nods, pointing at Lisa as she speaks while Beth hums in agreement.

“i don’t know if i’ll ever get over him. i love him. i miss him.” i whine. “i want him back. i don’t wanna be here. i want Jack.”

“alright, maybe it’s time we get you back home.” Beth sighs, tapping her thumbs on her phone. ordering an uber, i assume.

“i don’t wanna go home. i wanna see Jack.”

“you can’t see Jack, y/n. you’re drunk, and you guys broke up.” Marie pats my shoulder, helping me out of the booth and out of the club, the other two girls following behind us.

i continue mumbling to myself, my words slurred, and i’m eighty percent sure that the only actual audible word was my ex’s name.

“c’mon, hun. watch your head.” Lisa coos, helping me into the uber. “we’ll see you on tuesday, babe. get some sleep.”

Marie and Beth call out some goodbyes before Lisa shuts the car door, she motions for the guy up front to lower his window, whispering something to him before he starts off towards my house.

“would it be too late to ask to change the drop off location?” i ask him, anxiously playing with the strap of my purse as i speak.

“i’m sorry, ma’am. your friend just told me you might ask that. she said i’m under strict orders to take you straight to the predetermined destination.” i heave out a deep breath, slumping back into the seat of the car.

it doesn’t take too long to get to my apartment complex, muttering a ‘thank you’ to the man before sliding out of the vehicle and making my way up to my apartment. as soon as i make it into the apartment, i bee-line for my bedroom, stripping out of my club outfit and changing into some leggings and a tank top. i wipe off my makeup and throw my hair up before entering my closet. my sights set on the old USA Hockey sweatshirt on my shelf, i hop up, reaching for the article of clothing. however, as soon as i pull it down, something else comes tumbling down with it, falling to the floor in front of me.

slipping the sweatshirt on, i bend down to pick up the fallen item. holding it, tears prick the backs of my eyes as i realize what it is, Jack’s hat. his New York Yankees hat to be exact. my heart aches remembering the times he wore it. our Yankees game, date nights, even just lounging around the house. clutching the hat to my chest, i sink to the floor, sitting criss cross as i cry.

space. why did i think i needed space? i got plenty of space when he was always gone for roadies. fuck space. i just want him. my fingers trace the Yankees symbol, my tears falling down onto the dark blue fabric. why does it still hurt so bad? it’s been six months.

i know it may not help that i’m still in the same apartment we shared. every piece of this home reminds me of him. but it’s been much too hard to move. i tried looking at other apartments, but nothing felt as right as this one. i’m not ready to give up the last piece i have of the one i love.

too busy crying on the closet floor, i barely hear the lock on the front door turning. my head snaps up at the sound, trying to remember which of my friends have spare keys. Marie, Beth, and Lisa are the only ones, but i just left them. that only leaves two other options, Quinn or Jack. but, that i’m aware of, Quinn is still in Vancouver. i know he doesn’t have another game in New Jersey until next month. which only leaves Jack. i try not to get my hopes up, but i can’t help but wonder if it’s him, if he’s come back. the chances are slim. it’s been six months, why would he come back now?

i come to the decision that it’s probably Marie checking up on me. probably worried about the way i was when we parted not that long ago. it wouldn’t be the first time she’s checked on me.

footsteps thump against the wooden floors, getting closer to the bedroom, and i huddle further into the closet, hoping Marie will just leave me alone. tears still stream down my face as i clutch the hat closer to my chest, letting out silent sobs.

“y/n?”

that’s not Marie.

too exhausted, i opt out of leaving the closet, not even able to get myself to speak without being racked with sobs. i sniffle as i hear him pass the closet, the footsteps stop for a moment before i hear them start again, getting closer to the cracked open closet door. i don’t bother looking, fully believing that at this point i’m a mix of drunk and sleep deprived, just hearing things that aren’t there. i wipe at my eyes but the tears keep coming. i shift to bring my knees to my chest, the hat now gripped in my hands in front of me.

“oh, baby.” i hear from behind me before a body drops down beside me on the floor, pulling me into them. his cologne fills my senses, my face buried into his chest. the scent fills me with melancholy, memories of when he used to hold me close and whisper sweet nothings in my ear. comforting me. making me feel at home within his arms.

“it’s okay.” as if i summoned the whispers with my thoughts, his breath fans across my ear. “i’m here. i’ve got you. i’m right here.”

his reassurances calm me just slightly, but the real help is when he splays a hand along my chest, taking deep breaths. muscle memory takes over as i mimic his breathing.

“what are you doing here?” i ask once i’ve finally calmed enough to speak. i wipe at my nose with the sleeve of my sweatshirt, finally looking up into the blue eyes that peer down at me.

“Beth called me.” he whispers.

“she did?”

“yeah. she told me you’re not doing okay.” he confesses. “she didn’t tell me much more than that. just that she’d really appreciate if i checked on you.”

“you came over here in the middle of the night just to check on me?” i question. “you have a game tomorrow. you should be sleeping.”

“you’re a lot more important than a game.” his hand moves from my chest to cup my jaw. “i told you i would always be here for you, y/n. i meant it.”

“but, we broke up. i didn’t think you cared anymore.” a lone tear drops from my right eye as i speak.

“i’ll always care about you. i don’t think i can ever stop. i love you, y/n/n. and i know you said you wanted space, and i respected that, but i told you when we broke up that i would be here when you decided you were ready.” he pauses, his eyes scanning my face before he continues speaking. “and now i really hope you’re ready because these past few months have been hell without you.”

“i made a mistake. i don’t want space. i want you. you’re the only thing i’ve wanted since i was seventeen.” my voice is barely above a whisper, scared for his response.

“you have me. i’m right here.” his eyes jump between my own and my lips three times before he leans down. i meet him halfway, our lips pressing together in a slow kiss. gentle passion and love radiates between us, his hands cupping my face as mine grip the nape of his neck as if he'll disappear from my hold.

pulling away, his forehead leans against mine. my breath catches in my throat at the sight of the smile gracing his lips. a smile of my own spread across my face and i crane my neck to place a chaste kiss on his lips.

"i missed you so much." i admit. "moving on from boys in high school was so easy, but the heartbreak hit different this time."

"that's how you know it's real. we're real. there's no moving on from us." he tells me. "at least, not for me."

he pulls me in tighter against him, crashing his lips against mine once more, and i feel content again, my life being fixed with such a simple motion.

#midnights fic list #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes fic #jack hughes blurb #nj devils #faithlynn’s writings <3 #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl blurb

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wannab-urs · 30 days

Text

The King Has Lost His Crown

Pairing: ex!Dieter Bravo x gn!Reader

Summary: Dieter shows up on your doorstep

Tags: dieter being a pathetic loser, drug mention, angst WC: 703

A/N: This is my entry for @freelancearsonist's ABBA Drabble Challenge. I could have gone smutty with this, but I went angsty instead. I may still write the smut version later idk.

Dieter Bravo Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi

You sit down on your couch with a glass of wine, settling in for a nice evening of watching mindless TV. Your phone starts buzzing – Dieter Bravo is calling you. You’ve removed his contact, but you couldn’t ever bring yourself to block the number you know by heart. You hit the red Fuck You button and toss your phone to the side.

Throughout an entire episode of some shitty reality show, your phone lights up with texts. You finally pick it up to read them:

Please answer the phone

Its Dieter

I miss u

Can u call me pls?

Baby

Baby ]:

Just as you’re about to tell him to fuck off, your doorbell rings. You check the ring camera and see that he’s standing on your fucking porch. You hope LA suddenly has a cold snap and he freezes to death out there. Okay, maybe that’s a little harsh. But he could stand to lose a toe or two.

He rings the doorbell again – starts just continuously pressing the button until the sound drives you so crazy you have to open the door. And he’s standing there looking like an abandoned puppy in his brown fuzzy coat and a pair of basketball shorts that are too long. You used to find his disheveled appearance endearing, but now it just adds to how pathetic he seems.

“You have 10 seconds to explain where you found the audacity to show up at my house, Bravo.”

He winces at your icy tone, brow furrowing over those pretty brown eyes. He tugs a few strands of his hair, making it stick up even more.

“Baby, just let me in and I’ll explain everything.”

“No. Explain here.”

Dieter sighs, world weary, long and drawn out. You go to close the door on him, but he shoves a croc covered foot into the crack before you can get it closed.

“Wait!”

You open the door enough to see him, but not enough to let him push his way inside the house.

“What happened with your new girl, Dieter?”

“She wasn’t you.”

For a second you almost believe him. Almost. But liars never change.

“Don’t give me that bullshit. What actually happened?”

“What do you think happened?” He mutters, rolling his eyes.

“I think you couldn’t keep your dick in your pants, as usual, and she got fed up.”

“Yeah? Well. Maybe you’re right,” his tone shifts to something like shame, his face turning red. “Are you gonna let me in?”

“Oh absolutely not. You really think you can show up here after getting dumped for cheating on the girl you cheated on me with? Do you think I’m stupid?”

“No,” his brow furrows even deeper. “Of course not. I just thought–”

“It must be so hard for you. All the drugs and pretty people you could ever desire and all you ever do is fuck it up. You’re a disaster. A fucking disgrace. I bet your mamá is real fuckin proud of you. Get out of my face, Dieter. Get off my porch. Go fuck someone else’s life up.”

You slam the door in his face and start crying immediately. The tears come faster than you can wipe them from your face, leaving tracks down your cheeks.

You loved him, you really did. Maybe you still do. But you can’t put yourself through that bullshit again.

–-

Dieter slumps down on the doorstep, not quite ready to accept defeat. He thinks you’ll come out soon, offer him a cup of tea and a snack, maybe cuddle with him on the couch.

His life is a mess, but the one good thing he’s ever had was you. He lost you and it was completely his fault. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever get over you. He needs to win you back, prove he can be a good person, a good partner.

He leans back against the door, prepping for an uncomfortable night – sober and stuck outside. He falls asleep eventually and wakes with the sunrise. You never came out to get him. Didn’t even offer him a blanket. You are well and truly done with him, and he only has himself to blame.

#abba drabble challenge #freelancearsonist #Dieter Bravo #Dieter Bravo fics #Dieter Bravo fanfiction #Dieter Bravo x reader #Dieter Bravo x you #The Bubble fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #ppcu fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction

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apomaro-mellow · 3 months

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King&Prince 12

Right after breakfast, Steve went to the first part of his schedule, which turned out to be music practice. His actual duty was just corralling the more stubborn ones and making sure they went. After that, he was to be with Nancy. She brought him to her study, which seemed equally devoted to academic knowledge and weaponry.

"What exactly are your intentions here?", she asked, point blank as she sat behind her desk.

There was a chair, but Steve wasn't sure if he could sit. "I don't really have any. I just...I can't go home."

"Bullshit. Even if your dad is some kind of asshole, he wouldn't let his heir just sit and rot here." Nancy's eyes were as sharp as her tongue and it clashed with her soft face.

Steve looked away. "He doesn't give a damn about me. If I go back, I'll just be another prisoner. Maybe even worse off than I am here."

"I wouldn't be so sure." Nancy looked him up and down. "Even if you have the king's protection, there are plenty in this castle and out who see you as an enemy."

"Does that include you? You think I have a secret plan to assassinate King Edward?"

Nancy stood up and walked around her desk. "I know you couldn't lay a hand on him. My issue is having a royal from a nation we've been fighting against walking free around the people I love. People who don't know how to defend themselves." She stepped up until she was nearly toe-to-toe with Steve. This close, he could see how small she was, and yet that didn't diminish how intimidating she was.

"So let me say this one time. If you touch a single hair on their heads, you better hope that Eddie gets to your first. At least he'll make it quick."

Warned sufficiently, Steve was dismissed and the next thing he was tasked with doing was being extra help in the kitchen. Dustin's mother, Claudia, had him on vegetable peeling duty.

"My spells can do the trick most of the time but the potatoes I like to leave some of the skin on. And the enchantment either does it completely or not at all."

Steve's only experience in kitchens had been the food that came from them. He was never really involved in the process of making the meals. Which meant by the end of kitchen duty, he had a few cuts and scrapes on his hands.

"How are you so good with a sword but you nicked yourself peeling carrots?", Lucas asked, doing some warm up stretches.

"Two different skillsets", Steve said, doing some of his own stretching. "By the way, why do we have an audience now?"

Just outside of the training arena, sat Will and Max, looking far too interested in it for people not at all interested in combat. Steve had already asked if they wanted training too and they denied.

"We're just here for the show", Max said.

Done with stretching, Steve began to teach Lucas some basic forms. In his head, he was already thinking of matching Lucas with different weapons. Swordplay was always the go to but not everyone was meant for it. It was a good place to start though.

After that first session, he could already see the promise in him. And there was a spark to be better too, even when he fell or dropped his sword. Steve didn't know what was driving him, but it must be important.

Once that finished, they washed up and went down to the kitchens to meet up with the others for lunch. Mike had been late to the meal, barging through the doors in his excitement to give the news.

"You're not gonna believe this! Eddie's actually performing at the Sunrise Festival!"

"No way!", Dustin exclaimed.

"This is big", Will said.

"Do you think this is why he's making us take music lessons?", El asked.

At that, many of them groaned, the loudest of all being Dustin. He'd made it very clear his opinion on playing music. But it was also true that he appreciated it.

"I think it's great we'll get a chance to play with him", El said.

"Nothing's set in stone", Max said. "And Eddie's not going to let us play if we're not up to par with him."

"Is he really that good at playing music?", Steve asked, speaking up finally.

"He's like a musical genius", Lucas said.

"Like a god", Dustin seconded.

It was hard to imagine someone like the king playing an instrument. He couldn't imagine any one fitting him, he didn't seem musical at all. After lunch, his schedule was to basically be Robin's assistant and it turned out she was a jack of many trades. In addition to being the one teaching the kids music, she was also in charge of the library, and was taking the lead on some of the activities for the Sunrise Festival.

As far as Steve could tell, it was to celebrate the coming of spring, which was difficult to think that this place had after only hearing of it being a dark, desolate wasteland. But he saw the sun everyday and even got to feel some of its warmth on his face. He couldn't deny it anymore. At the end of the day, he had dinner with the king and his inner circle, which included Nancy, Jeff, Robin, and two others he hadn't met until now, Gareth, and Franklin.

"So", Eddie started as he sat down at the head of the table. "How was your day, little prince?"

"It was...busy... My schedule's pretty filled up." Steve was sure he had Nancy to thank for that.

"Get used to it", Nancy said.

Eddie grinned. "She's right. It only gets more busy from here. Mark your calendar, Harrington. The festival is in two weeks."

Part 14

Tag Team

@thesuninyaface @only-evanescent @snakeorsquid @ignoremyworld @theclichefortunecookie @goodolefashionedloverboi @just-a-tiny-void @0body0disphoria0 @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @samsoble @jamieweasley13 @y4r3luv @xtkxkrzrizir @un-knownperson @greekgeek24 @justdrugsformethanks @potato-of-the-lord @notaqueenakhaleesi @swimmingbirdrunningrock @queenie-ofthe-void @nebulainajar @lil-gremlin-things @nicememerino @robininblue @hornedqueenofhell @anne-bennett-cosplayer @moomkin77 @here4thetrama @bookworm0690 @autumncrocusandladybug

#apo writes #stranger things #steddie #the party

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manjiroia · 1 year

Text

𝐓𝐎𝐊𝐘𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐄 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 ♡ hanma shuji, sano manjiro, ryuguji ken, haitani ran/rindou + haruchiyo sanzu

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ♡ timeskip!characters , fluff , petnames , crack , a little suggestive in hanma's , completely bullshited the coffee names (if they exist already, no they don't ^^)

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ♡ I AM BACK!!! I'm so sorry for going MIA - this past year has been incredibly rough for me, COVID, dropping out of school, fighting depression suicide and whatnot- but I'm making my return and coming back to tumblr. now, please enjoy ♡

半間修二 → ᕼᗩᑎᙏᗩ was honestly just chilling, your legs thrown over his lap, one of his giant hands lightly massaging your skin as the other scrolled through his phone. it was at this moment, you decided to ruin the peace ♡

"shuji, do you think you can get me a cinnamon pumpkin treat?"

"..... a fucking what?-"

"it's a coffee! and it's a new menu item at that one café I like... can you get it for me please?"

".. now? but I just got comfortable-" cue your infamous pouting face with puppy eyes

"fine fine- I'm going..."

it was fine, for about 30 minutes- until you got a phone call. "aww baby... you sent me out for a coffee that doesn't exist to play a game? how about we play my favourite game when I get back, hm?"

佐野万次郎 → ᙏIKᙓY loved cuddling with you when he wasn't busy being the head of a criminal organization. you were his peace throughout everything happening around him- and you never asked for anything. which is why he gives you everything.

"mikey... I'm sorry, but can I get up? I'm thirsty-"

"no. tell me what you want, I'll have someone get it for you. you need to stay here with me."

"but- .... alright.. could I have a spicy apple with a double shot of vanilla? ... it's a coffee-"

"yes. you stay right there- don't move, alright? I'll be right back with it."

needless to say, it was a while till you got that coffee. what didn't take long though was mikey's voice to echo around the place- yelling at the other bonten exec's to 'find the recipe! y/n is thirsty!!'

龍宮寺堅 → ᗪᖇᗩKᙓᑎ was in the shop, fixing up a bike while you sat pretty on a stool watching him work. it wasn't all bad, you both were spending quality time with each other (and you got to see him flex those nice pair of arms)

"ken.... do you want to take a break? I can go cook something for you?"

"hah? your not going to eat?"

"ah, no- but I am craving something. it's called a Russian twist, apparently it's a coffee-"

"no. your drinking something healthy, lets go eat lunch with water. too much coffee isn't good for you-"

... safe to say, the plan failed- but hey, now your being healthy :]

灰谷蘭 → ᖇᗩᑎ was happily walking down the halls of the office, another day done- another happy drive home to meet the love-of-his-life and surround them with so much affection. walking out the doors to his car before he's hearing a familiar ringtone, rushedly pulling out his phone from his pockets to pick up your call.

"angel ♡ I'm just outside my car, on my way home now-"

"ran- I'm so sorry, but before you come home- can you get something for me?"

"of course doll, what is it?"

"it's called a surprise sunrise, it's a new coffee at that one place we go to for dates."

"ah, alright. I'll get it for you, I do need payment when I get home though~"

"yeah yeah... I'll see you when you get back then."

motherf*cker actually returns home with a coffee in hand, smiling brightly as he places it right in your hands. also has the gradient of a sunrise in it, 'so, about my payment-' , 'you charmed the baristas, didn't you?'

灰谷竜胆 → ᖇIᑎᗪOᙀ was bored. insanely bored. the meeting being held had no context, he sat there with nothing to do. sanzu was popping a new pill in his mouth, his brother was talking his ear off- he just wanted an out, and thankfully- as if the heavens had heard him, your name was lighting up as a notif on his screen.

"rindou, baby ^^ are you doing anything right now?"

"no. everyone here is off the rails, please- get me out-"

"well, I do need something... but will mikey allow it? you leaving?"

"obviously yes, he's fine with it" (it wasn't a lie really, he was just sitting at the head of the oval table eating his dorayaki)

"ah, alright- well, I'm busy right now at home with unloading groceries. I completely forgot to get the new coffee I was telling you about, the hazelnut and almond crème? do you think you can go and get it for me?"

"yeah, I can do that. see you soon then" (an out!! yes!! he can get out of the unnecessary meeting and away from his brother!!)

the poor younger haitani... he spent a good 2 hours driving around Tokyo for your coffee, eventually he turned up at the house with a bouquet instead when you opened the door for him 'sorry baby... I couldn't find it.. think you might be able to accept these instead?'

明司春千夜 → Sᗩᑎᘔᙀ was ecstatic, a day off from mikey to spend with his baby? the man couldn't be happier, he had the whole day planned out- solely and all prepared for you.

"ah, wait- can we stop at that café up ahead?"

"no no-! I just saw online somewhere that they're serving a new coffee, called the.. golden pineapple... I think? I wanted to try it-"

"why? do your feet hurt? I can carry you-"

"of course baby, anything for you-"

.... neither of you are allowed back into that café again, apparently sanzu holding the barista at gunpoint was a no-no. man was aggressively pouting for the rest of the day cause he couldn't get you that coffee you wanted :((

𝑟𝑒𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑 ♡

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allmyocsarebritish · 2 months

Text

A passion for exploration

(Known in my notes as ahkaeology)

Pairing: Ahkmenrah X reader

Warnings(?): Grave robbing

A/N: okay okay I know it's really odd that a wednesday blog is now posting for natm but I went down a rabbit hole and I'm afraid I lost the entrance. History nerd has shown through well and truly :')

Also my first multi part fic :D

Title is courtesy of my mate Abi using AI

Ch 1

Grave robbing

Was desecrating the tombs of these once honoured, omnipotent kings of Egypt really something you were willing to do? Had the circumstances preceding the grave robbery been less bleak, the answer would have undoubtedly been an definitive no. These rulers commanded the uptmost respect in life, and here you were, excavating the only memory that remained. There wasn't a day that went by during your expedition in which guilt did not infiltrate your mind, suffocating your conscience and depriving you of any sleep, even before you came close to finding an ancient tomb. But it wasn't like you had any other choice.

Pushing down your gnawing feelings of dread, you trekked on through the Egyptian desert. Rough sand brushed against your lower legs beneath your simple, calf-length skirt, chafing at the skin. You were the only one of the troupe resigned to walking, as the youngest and the lowest class. Astride camels, the two men had a better view of the surrounding plains, though the blank, barren flats stretched on long beyond the horizon.

"The valley of the kings shan't be too far from this place" called Lord Carnarvon, map still in hand.

You held back a scoff, rolling your eyes as you knew he wasn't looking at you. If only he would admit none of you knew where you were going. The only clue you were given was that the gold rich landmark was announced by a grand pyramid at the end of a hollowed valley consisting of a multitude of others. What a shame that this was the Egyptian desert.

Filled with pyramids.

Days and days stretched on of travel, and eventually, you stopped counting the sunrises, resigning to the fact that this would only stop when the valley was found, however long that took.

As with most great things, the discovery of the valley occurred at a time when you least expected. You had taken advantage of a small oasis, resting for a few hours and permitting the camels an indulgent drink. Howard Carter dozed beside you, hat pulled low over his face, in order to shield his resting eyes from the blazing fire of the sun. Carnarvon had taken his liberty and ran off, or so you had hoped. No, in fact he was continuing the investigation alone and on foot, clutching a worn, shoddy map, which was twinged a grimey brown with years of filth accumulated around the edges of the paper. He never strayed far, though attempted to work out his bearings, using the wind or some pretentious bullshit you never bothered listening to. No, you were perfectly content drawing in the sand with a stick you had found and claimed an hour or so prior.

You were more than unimpressed when the sketches you had so tediously etched into the sand were scattered by Carnarvon sprinting back to the small camp. Jolted awake, Carter sat up sharply, alarm etched across his features.

"Blimey, good sir! You gave me quite the fright!" He exclaimed as you nodded in agreement.

"Are you alright?" You asked, though your eyes may have given away your disinterest (had either man been paying an ounce of attention).

"Shh!" Carnarvon interrupted your pleasant concern, to which you rolled your eyes and began attempting to recover your drawings. "Carter, good sir! I dare say I've found it. I've discovered the pyramid!"

A bold statement, and not the first time either. No, twice prior you had been dragged into the colossal ancient skyscrapers, only to find they were far from your true destination. Empty of any treasure or historical worth beyond the buildings themselves, you continued on, fruitless. Grand structures were quite an obvious goldmine, and previous grave robbers had left the tombs void of, well, anything.

Though of course, it was more than worth it to explore this fresh discovery, not taking any chances.

Time was of the essence, or so you were told. Camels saddled up in record time, you were hoisted up from your seat on the floor by Carter, borderline dragged up.

"Come, young Y/N, you heard his lordship. We may have found the Valley. Hurry on, now" his words were gentle, still treating you as he had done in your childhood, despite the fact you were now 19. It was something that you both appreciated and hated simultaneously. Howard was kind to you, much more so than Lord Carnarvon, who cared as little for you as you did for him. The mutual disinterested made for some long, awkward silences, and many threats to leave you in an unknown grave.

Still dragging you by the arm, Carter began to untie his camel, before finally letting go of you. The rush was honestly needless, you had been expeditioning for months at the least, what harm would a few mere minutes cause? But the men were adamant, and there was no arguing, especially not from a useless child as yourself.

"Can I at least keep my stick?"

Recieving no reply from Carnarvon and an incredulous stare from Carter, you concluded the answer was yes.

The journey from the oasis to the pyramid was shorter than anticipated, though still rather long. Another day passed, spent entirely wandering through the desert. Exhaustion washed over your entire body, and it was a war every minute to keep your eyes open. But, alas, you must continue, and eventually your trek drew to a close as with further examination, it became clear this pyramid was not what you were searching for.

Disappointment and rage filled Carnarvon upon the realisation that this was, in fact, not the Valley of the Gates of the Kings, but rather a singular, sandy pyramid. "Why, there must be some mistake!" He complained impetuantly, always one to shift blame elsewhere. You exchanged a look with Carter, who for once was willing to admit the incompetence of the troupe's leader. After all, what were the chances that a random pyramid would mark the infamous, esteemed valley?

From a distance it appeared mighty, though in fact that was more than likely a mirage caused by the monochromatic nature if the desert. Upon further examination, however, the pyramid was far from the grandeur anticipated by Carnarvon and Carter. Huge gashes and rifts in the brickwork jumped out from metres away. Crumbling brickwork was cratered, resembling a sponge with many holes, as dusty gravel avalanched down the sides of the architecture at every other interval. Overall it was worn and aged, therefore more likely to be looted and barren.

"I do say it's worth taking a look around, my lord." You spoke, addressing him clearly. Carnarvon waved his hand dismissively, wishing you out of his presence.

"Yes, yes. Go ahead child." Did you expect that? No. Did you need to be told twice? Also no. A small grin gracing your features, you took off into the pyramid.

Racing across the gravely surface of the desert, the sand provided a slight level of resistance. Nevertheless, you persevered onwards, stride refusing to falter. Basking in the glorious heat of the warm Egyptian sun's rays casting down on your face, you closed your eyes as you ran, chin tilted upwards. Naturally, this obscured your vision, rendering you blind, and therefore leading you to miss the gaping hole in the ground.

A short squeala of surprise passed your lips as you suddenly found yourself unexpectedly falling through the earth. The drop was rather long, and you landed in a heap on the floor of the dugout with a large thud. You weren't aware of how long you were unconscious, but judging by the severe lack of any source of light, sunset had passed. Pain shot through your body, coarsing through your veins and ricocheting off each of your bones in turn. Head pounding, you groaned slightly, trying to work out what in the hell just happened to you.

Darkness continued to fill the room, prompting you to fish within one of your pockets, pulling out a match and striking it aflame. The hidden chamber was large, that much you could tell even despite the dim lighting. Blinking twice as you began to, very slightly, register your surroundings, you noticed the sheer obscurity of this interior. You'd heard of the saying 'paintings that seemed to follow you around the room', but this gave a new meaning to those words.

No, wait.

Those paintings were moving, and not metaphorically. Eyes widening, you began to notice everything in the tomb writhing like a cluster of cobras. Onyx black cats prowled upon shelves, worn linen bandages slowly unfurling from being bound around each of their limbs. Animated drawings of men, deities and horses alike moved naturally, as though it were a perfectly normal occurrence. Shabti servants, the colour of oxidised copper and ranging from 5-30cm tall formed an army scattered throughout the tomb. Then, slowly, as though delaying the inevitable, your eyes trained upon it.

The sarcophagus.

Shuffling away rapidly, your back hit the decrepit wall of the hidden grave. The embodiment of terror plastered over your face, you watched in horror as the coffin began to violently shake. Your blood ran cold as bangs from the inside began to echo across the acoustic chamber. The rusted hinges were worn and flimsy, and the bolts began to unscrew from their holdings. Padlocks had become frail with ages and popped open, one almost smacking you square in the forehead, to which you responded with a short yelp. For a moment, all movement ceased, as though whatever was inside had begun to listen to the intruder in their grave. You took liberty of the fleeting moment, and began to craft a way out. The quiet was short lived, however, as, with one final, mighty heave, the final lock was broken.

The sarcophagus had been opened.

Your breath caught in your throat, the air thick and suffocating as you watched a wrapped hand emerge from the tomb. The coffin lid was ajar, though it didn't take much pushing to be removed almost entirely. Almost at once, the creatures residing in the grave marched forward, crowding their newly awoken master. Hidden in the shadows, you froze, hoping to remain unseen and ignored, and thus leaving unscathed. Soon enough Carter and Carnarvon were bound to find you?

Right?

A huge open grave couldn't be subtle, you only missed it as you eyes were closed. A stupid decision really, and you mentally cursed yourself.

You remained rooted to the spot on the freezing floor, as the reanimated corpse continued to rise from its grave. Surely this was an affect of your concussion; for all you knew this was just an unconscious dream. Besides, with all the travel in the desert, dehydration had undoubtedly left you delirious. It was at that split second of slight relaxation (if you could call it that) in which you spied the piles of treasure sloping at every corner of the tomb. What could you say - you were a grave robber. Carnarvon would be so proud - if you returned alive that was.

It began to claw at the ancient, frayed linen covering its face, causing your heart to race: it thumped so hard you swore you'd be given away. Praying you didn't go into cardiac arrest, you continued staring bug-eyed as the bandages unfurled in front of you, like the dramatic unveiling of an innovative new invention. Closing your eyes for the second time that day, you winced, raising your arms to shield your face from the horrors you were undoubtedly about to witness. Bile rose in your throat as your mouth drew dry. Images of rancid, rotting flesh peeling off bones flashed through your mind, prompting your whole body to tremble.

'I'm just delirious. Any moment now I'll open my eyes to be met with a chamber of riches.' You thought to yourself. Awoken mummies were the stuff of fairytales, and despite what Carnarvon and Carter believed, you were most certainly not a child.

Your internal monologue was cut short however, interrupted by the gentlest of touches placed on your arm. It prompted you to flinch away instantaneously, a soft whimper escaping. Eyes shooting open, you came face to face with the pharoah himself. And he was not what you had anticipated.

He wasn't the scary mummy you were expecting, he was a teenage kid.

Kind, cerulean eyes rimmed with a smoky black eyeliner stared into your own, azure oceans plagued with concern. Concern for you. Such a colour must have been pricelessly rare, sapphires amongst stones.

His golden, tanned hand had felt cold and lifeless against your arm, yet the heat it had radiated was electrifying, continuing to shoot jolts throughout your entire body. His skin was soft and smooth, betraying the fact that this royal had almost certainly never worked a day in his life.

Slightly unruly brown curls and a toned slender figure - he was actually rather cute.

"Are you alright? You seem a little... Lost?" He queried, to which you seemed unable to form a response.

"I- what.. who? What's going on?" You managed, stumbling over your words as your voice cracked slightly.

He gave a small smile, clearly sympathetic of your utter confusion, before gesturing at a golden tablet, as though that were supposed to help you in any way. Noting your expression of utter bewilderment, the undead Pharaoh elaborated.

"That's my tablet, blessed by Khonsu himself. It holds the power to awake the dead at night," he gestures to himself and the cats, who stared at you, blinking and unsure whether it would be safe for them to approach. Then, he pointed to the paintings in the walls and dragged his finger towards the mass of shabti dolls, both of which watched you with the same confusion. "Along with anything else resembling a life form that finds it's way into the presence of the tablet."

"Right." You answered, holding your head and still in shock.

"You needn't be afraid, you know. I'm not going to hurt you."

"Thank you, that is a relief." You swallowed thickly.

He hummed in response, smiling with an amused frown at the fact you feared him.

"So, who exactly are you?" You asked after a short yet not uncomfortable silence.

His lavish outfit betrayed the royal status he claimed in life, only accentuated by the Red Crown, or Deshret supporting a golden snake - the symbol of monarchy- resting atop his sarcophagus. Around his neck fastened a Usekh collar, adorned with teal and umber jewels and beads, and topped with golden accents. Sleeves of cloth draped over his arms, the fibres of the fabric woven with pure gold. The metallic shine of the element was evident in the chromatic sheen of the cape resting over the Pharoah's shoulders. At his waist there hung a Shendyt kilt, fastened with a cloth belt, also elaborately decorated. Beautiful gold jewellery decorated his figure, your eyes drawn in particular to the stunning gold bracelet cuffs he supported on either wrist, encrusted with gemstones, potentially aquamarine or topaz. Once again your attention was drawn to his face.

"I am Ahkmenrah, fourth king of the fourth king. And you are...?"

Stunned into silence for a moment by the regality of the ancient king before you, you blinked and paused briefly before answering.

"Y/N. Y/N L/N."

"So, Y/N, what are you doing in my grave?" Ahkmenrah asked you, barely trying to surpress an amused smile. Your cheeks flushed as you tried to form a lie. This ruler seemed nice, and regardless, you couldn't exactly tell him you were intent on raiding his tomb for riches.

"It was an accident. Really, it was. I was running, and, well, I wasn't exactly looking where I was going."

"Clearly." He smirked. "Why were you in the desert though? Forgive me if I'm mistaken, but you don't appear to be Egyptian."

"What? Oh, no I'm not. I'm English. I came out in an expedition with two other men; Lord Carnarvon and Carter. They're archaeologists." You winced at the manufactured truth. It wasn't entirely a lie, that was what the men claimed to be. Though all your troupe really planned to accomplish was glorified tomb-raiding, a fact that made you sick.

"And they left you here?" Ahkmenrah questioned incredulously, unable to fathom why on earth they would abandon you like this.

"Well, no. Not exactly. They allowed me to go check out the pyramid about 10 yards south, but, as o said, I fell down a hole." You blushed again, this time due to your own stupidity and clumsiness. This was not how to earn the respect of an esteemed king.

Ahkmenrah frowned. "So how long have you been down here?"

"Uh. I don't actually know, I was unconscious for a short time. Or possibly a long time, that I'm not sure of either."

Concern once again crossed the young Pharoah's face. "You poor thing! Are you alright? You're not concussed, are you?"

"Probably." You shrugged, further alarming him.

The next few hours were spent talking to Ahk, discussing everything from the legal affairs of ancient Egypt to the cats that accompanied him in his tomb. Over the course of the night, the two of you had grown closer, both in terms of friendship and literal distance. Most of the other inhabitants of the grave had deemed you safe, returning to their regular routine, and the most curious of the mummified cats, an (aptly) Egyptian mau apparently named Tivali, had become rather taken to you. Eventually, the exhaustion of the day had caught up with you, and you slumped against Ahk's shoulder. Revelling in his presence, contentment washed over you as, for the first time on your quest, you relaxed, finally at ease. Perhaps it was delirium, but in your sleepy state you swore you felt his fingertips grace against your cheek, the ghost of his lips pressing gently against your temple.

"Sleep well, my dear."

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