#(in approximately the ear location)

[seniorpollinationtechnician]

June 3, 2024 | 10:32 AM

This is Dr. ■■■■■■, conducting the autopsy of the decedent, identified as Subject Six, case number 24-81. The subject appears to be a humanoid alien female, approximately five feet five inches, weighing one hundred and forty pounds. The body was received in a sealed containment unit, transported from the scene by the ■■■■■■■■■■■■. The external examination reveals the subject to have been in good health; skin is free of lesions or signs of malnutrition. The subject's complexion is a golden hue with a slight luminescence that could indicate bioluminescent properties, potentially serving to warn or evade predators, lure prey, or communicate between members of her species. The subject possesses a total of eight ocular-like structures, four are located on the forehead, one on each side of the maxillary sinus and a pair in the standard human positions. Visual acuity and range of vision likely exceed human capabilities. The individual exhibits an unusual ocular condition characterized by completely black sclera and irises. Additionally, six of the eight eyes lack visible eyelids. This configuration suggests a highly specialized evolutionary trait but further analysis is required to ascertain the purpose of this feature. They display an elaborate, tattoo-like pattern across their forehead and cheeks. This pattern is symmetrical, with bold, sweeping lines that mimic the the natural markings found on a tiger's face. The pigmentation is deeply embedded, suggesting either an advanced tattooing technique or a possible dermal anomaly. The individual exhibits elongated, pointed ears. They extend upward and taper to a fine point. Additionally, each ear is adorned with multiple piercings, ranging from the lobe to the upper cartilage, indicating influence by cultural or subcultural aesthetics. The subject's hair is long, black and appears well-maintained, indicative of good health and grooming hab━━oh my god, she's alive! ■■■■■■■■, get the medical team here immediately! ....this is Dr. ■■■■■■, Subject Six, case number 24-81, just regained consciousness at 11:00 AM. I need to...we need to... (The recorder is turned off abruptly.)

[sweetenerobert]

𝐁𝐄𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑𝐒

DAY ONE OF HAUNTED HOEDOWN

momsboyfriend! joel miller x male reader

genre: mom’s boyfriend joel, no outbreak au, explicit, minors dni

prompt: taboo au + "i'll be your dirty little secret, if that's what you're into."

summary: your mom can’t seem to find where her boyfriend joel, has gone. and she can’t understand why your bedroom has so much weight on it

warnings: pwp, strong language, infidelity, joel is 43, reader is 22, unprotected P in A, choking, dirty talk, pet names, daddy kink, creampies, fingering, spanking, joel being a cocky piece of shit

word count: 1.7k

a/n: read this, i have a mixed feeling about it! let me know what you guys think.

“Hey, Hon! Have you seen Joel? I tried to call him, but his phone must be off.”

You knew where Joel was, his exact location, time, and placement of where he was located in this moment and time.

It was approximately 8:15, the time your mom usually leaves for work. He was behind you, pants wrapped around his ankles — belt ripped off and thrown on your bed. His cock buried deep inside you, hands melted on your waist, hitting that spot repeatedly as you tried to answer your mom. It was as if Joel’s task was to get you both caught by your mom/his girlfriend.

His low grunts entering your ear and your panting escapes your lips as you try to act like nothing is wrong.

“Get rid of her,” Joel whispered, grunting in your ear.

“U-uh, mom. No, I haven't s-seen him. Is his truck still here?”

“It seems so. The neighbors said they hadn't seen his truck move since.”

You could feel Joel’s body press up against your back and his warm breath against your ear. His forearm wrapped around your neck. Your cock twitched against the wood in front of you. “If you don’t get her to leave, I will fuck you so hard on this door we will all hear those pretty little moans and how she can see how her son’s taking her boyfriend’s dick so well.”

“U-uh, mom. He probably went to get something. I’m sure he’ll be fine,” You grit. “I’ll let you know if he comes back looking for you.”

You hear your mom’s muffled chuckle on the other side of the door. “You're funny, baby. He will see my car gone in the driveway if anything, and won't want to bother you with your school work.”

A hard smack comes across your ass, and you almost yelp but stop yourself from making the loud sound.

“What was that?” Your mom asks.

You could hear a low chuckle escape from Joel’s lips into your ear. “It was me. I slapped my thigh,” You dismissed. “Aren’t you going to be late for work?”

“What can they do? Fire me?” She chuckles. “Sweetie, are you okay? You sound a bit out of breath.”

“Well, no, because your boyfriend’s dick is currently inside of me, and he has no intention of stopping anytime soon,” You thought.

“I’m just a little bit of breath — I could be coming down with something,” You breathed.

“Oh goodness, do you need me to come in?”

“NO!” You exclaimed. “I-I mean, If I am coming down with something. I don't want to get you sick too.”

“Aw, you're so sweet.” She smiles. “You're the best son ever.”

You scoff. “I’m your only SON!” You gasped.

You look back toward Joel, and he has a scowl on his face. He was getting impatient.

“Are you sure you're alright, baby?”

“Yeah, are you, baby?” Joel gruffed.

“Yeah, now I just got a cramp in my leg — I’ll be okay, Mom. I promise. Please don't be late for work because of me. I’ll call you if anything happens,” You dismissed.

“Okay, baby. I’ll see you later. I love you.”

“See you later, bye,” You gritted, hoping she would leave.

“Nu-uh-uh-uh. Say it back.”

“Say what back?”

At this point, Joel was getting annoyed. He pulled your neck away from the door; your arms outstretched — fingerpads barely reaching the wood in front of you. You grip your hands on Joel’s forearm around your throat and look towards Joel.

“You know, I love you too,”

“Fuck me,” You muttered, directed to your mom's command.

“I’m already doin’ that baby,” Joel smirked.

You roll your eyes and look back to the wooden door before you.

“I love you too, Mom.”

“Okay. I’ll see you later.”

You hear her footsteps walk away from your bedroom door, down the hall, and the door closes behind her. Then suddenly, you hear the faint sound of her car starting.

You released a breath you didn't know that you were holding. Suddenly, You feel Joel pick you up and throw you over his shoulder.

"What are you doing?" You question.

He doesn't answer, and he starts to walk toward your bed.

You feel your body jerk up and land on your back — on your bed. You look towards Joel as he slides his pants off his ankles and onto the floor. He climbs into your bed and position himself between your legs.

"I grew impatient, now I want to hear those pretty moans," Joel smirked.

Joel stuck his pointer and middle fingers in your mouth. "Suck," Joel commanded.

You obliged and sucked on his fingers, and he quickly retracted his fingers from your mouth. Sliding his middle finger slowly inside you, you squirmed under his touch. You tried to stifle your moans; you didn't want to give Joel what he wanted. His finger slid inside you faster, and you bit your lip to hide your moans.

Joel slid a second finger in, and you rolled your head to the side and slammed your eyes shut. “Your pussy wraps around my fingers — so fuckin’ tight.”

Your lip almost bled from how hard you were biting your lip. You grit your teeth as you keep squirming. A hard slap to your balls made you stay still. “Stop squirmin’,” Joel commands.

“Can’t help it, don't — wanna moan,” You breathed. Joel slipped his finger out of you. Crawled up to you, his hand grips your throat.

“Is that right? Well, I guess we're gonna have to do this the hard way,” Joel smirked.

Joel pushes his cock inside you. You tried to yelp, but his hand, tight around your throat, forced you to stop. “Fff-uck, Joel!” You gasp.

“What that, baby? You like this big dick inside you?”

You nod with a look of pain and pleasure riding your face. Joel lets go of your throat, and you take deep breaths. While breathing, Joel lifts your legs and places them on his shoulders. His hips start slow and steady as you roll your head up — looking upside down at your headboard.

“Fuck! Baby! I might need to use your pussy more,” Joel breathed.

“So — good — fuck,” You grit.

“Baby… I haven't even gotten to the best part.” Joel leans down — resting his forehead on yours. Your noses were touching each other. Joel’s hips rock faster back and forth. Your breaths became hitched as Joel’s cock was stretching you out. You could feel his length inside you, pushing deep inside you. You loved every inch of him. Joel had filled you to the brim with satisfaction.

“You love this cock, don't you, baby?”

“Fuck, yes! Joel! I love it so much,” You whine.

“Your pussy, wraps around me so nicely, baby. I bet if I slip my cock out now,” Joel backs up from your face, slipping his cock out. “And then slip it back in,” Joel slips his cock back in. You meet the base of Joel’s cock so fast; you moan in retaliation.

“Just as I guessed, your pussy remembers my length so well, baby.”

Joel had wrapped your ankles in his giant, calloused palms. His grip was tight as his hips kept rocking into you, back and forth. Pre cum was leaking from the tip of your cock. You felt satisfied for the first time in a long time.

“You gonna cum soon, baby?” Joel questions.

“I-I think so,” You breathe.

“Cum for daddy, baby,” Joel starts. “You know you want to cum for me.”

“Fuck, daddy! Your cock is hitting so deep!” You groan.

Joel’s cock twitched when you called him daddy; that sensation felt incredible inside you. You felt your cock throb, the sensation cum was coming and the pain was unbearable.

“That’s so hot, baby,” Joel grunted. “Call me that again.”

“Daddy, you love this, don't you? Fucking the son of your girlfriend’s tight pussy, huh? You like this?”

“You makin’ fun of me?”

You weren't, but a smirk appeared on your face to insinuate that you were. “So what if I was? It’s just a simple question,” You grunt.

Joel’s thrusts became more vicious and destructive. Your pillow catches your moan as you roll your head to the side. “I fuckin’ love this, so fuckin’ perfect.”

“It’ll be our little secret,” You breathe in between breaths.

"I’ll be your dirty little secret, if that's what you're into,” Joel smirks.

Joel’s smirk turned into a scowl. Joel had a look of rage, and determination was written on his face now. Joel was on a mission with you directly, and you loved this feeling so much.

“I’m gonna cum soon, baby, deep inside that pussy of yours. I’m going to get you pregnant,” Joel grits.

“I’m going to cum too, daddy,” You moan.

“Cum for daddy, baby.”

You gripped your dick and started to stroke up and down. Your cock was filled with adrenaline, overstimulation, and overall satisfaction. With each of Joel’s thrusts, you could feel yourself on the brink of cumming anytime soon.

“I’m cumming, Daddy!” You exclaim as strings of cum coat your chest.

Joel grips your thighs as you stop stroking your cock. You place your hands on Joel’s thighs. “Fuck, baby! I’m cumming!” Joel hisses. With one — two final thrusts, Joel’s cum was swimming inside you. His grip on your thighs loosens, and he places his head near yours — hovering over yours.

You both are panting messes together, sweaty, satisfied messes. You close your eyes in pleasure and take a second to be in the moment. You had sex with your mom’s boyfriend, and you don’t feel guilty about it one bit, more accomplished than anything.

“Was that okay?” You question. Joel chuckles at your question and can't control himself as he kisses your forehead.

“It was fantastic, baby,” Joel gruffed.

Joel kisses your lips softly, and you grab his face in your hands as you flip him on his back — cock still inside you. His tongue licks your bottom lip as he slips his tongue inside your mouth. Tongues are sword-fighting each other in this passionate kiss. Joel’s hands planted on your back, — sliding down the curve of your back as you mess up his hair, sliding your hands on his curly locks. You break the kiss, backing up from Joel’s lips.

“Daddy, my mom doesn't come home until later; we could have some real fun around the house. If that’s okay with you?”

Joel gives it a thought and smirks at you. “Well, baby, Who am I to oblige such an amazin’ idea?” Joel chuckles.

[dmwrites]

Grian didn’t choose the CuteGuy lifestyle as much as it was thrust upon him. He had made one joke (just one!) about how he could be HotGuy’s sidekick, CuteGuy, and Scar went nuts. Within a week, a shulker box had been delivered to his base, containing some flashy pink clothes, a huge bow with a deadly-looking quiver of arrows, and, most unexpectedly, a bedazzled pink flip phone. There was only one contact in the phone, so, with a sigh, Grian pressed the call button.

“Hello?”

“Scar, what is this?”

“Oh, so you found your CuteGuy readiness package!” Scar gasped excitedly. “What do you think? Do you like my big package?”

“Wording, Scar. And, no, I’m not going to be your sidekick! The CuteGuy thing was a joke, bro.” Grian held up the clothes and looked them over with distain, using his shoulder to prop the phone to his ear. “And pink really isn’t my color, much less hot pink.”

“What do you mean? You’re blonde, you’re basically like a Barbie, you’d totally rock pink!”

“I have an alter ego already, Scar, I don’t need another, much less one that wears… does this shirt have a heart-shaped cutout in the chest? Scar!”

“Oh please.” Scar scoffed. “Do you really think Poultry Man will make a comeback? Let’s all be honest with ourselves now.”

“Hey now, mister ‘HotGuy is like half of my personality’. PoultryMan was the blueprint of superheroes!” Grian put the clothes back in the shulker and closed it firmly. “Scar, this dress up game is going a little too far, don’t you think? There isn’t even a need for HotGuy.”

“You never know.” Scar said in a sing-song voice. “Listen, just keep the shulker and the phone- if I really need a sideki- backup, I’ll call this phone, okay? Please?”

“Fine.” Grian said. “It’s a good thing you’re my friend, or I’d burn all of this.” He hung up the phone and set it down on top of the shulker box. He sighed, shaking his head at the bedazzled and pink nightmare that sat on and in the box before him. He picked the box up and moved it to a shadowy part of his basement. Grumbot looked down at him, lights twinkling in a way Grian took as laughter.

“Listen, Scar never said a thing about me actually picking up the phone, so by technicality, I’m off the hook.” Grian felt a need to explain himself. “If he really wants a CuteGuy so bad, he can get someone else to do it or something. I don’t do sidekick. PoultryMan is main character energy.”

Grumbot just flashed his lights, and Grian wondered if the robot had even been listening at all. He sighed, turning around and gazing out towards the now-dull rift on the other side of the basement.

“Now, to something that really matters, what on earth do I do about this?”

-seven months later-

Much like young Issac Newton theorizing about gravity from an apple falling onto his head, Joe Hills also had an odd series of events happen to him when something big and heavy fell onto his head. But he thought “ouch!” instead of conceptualizing gravity, but that’s besides the point.

“Who is messing with me? Guys, now is not a great time… huh?” Joe looked all around, and his gaze came to rest on a red shulker box on its side, spilling stacks upon stacks of tnt onto the ground. Joe went to pick it up and saw it labeled as Grian’s. “Grian?” There was no answer.

So, Joe did what any good person would do, and gathered up all of the tnt, put it back in the box, and set off for Grian’s megabase, which he had only an approximation of its location. He did manage to find it eventually, or, at least, the amalgamation of Grian and Mumbo’s bases, and he dithered on the spot for a while, trying to remember who’s was which. He eventually just gave up and dove down into what he knew to be Grian’s basement, with that weird robot and rift thing. Luckily, both oddities seemed inactive, and Joe put the shulker box down in the middle of the room, and took out a scrap of paper to leave as a note.

Suddenly, a phone rang, echoing through the basement. Joe looked at the rift, then the robot. Neither seemed to a source of the ringing. It was coming, Joe found out as he looked around, from a bedazzled pink flip phone on top of a pink and horribly dusty shulker box. On instinct, Joe picked it up and answered.

“Howdy, Joe Hills from Nashville, Tennessee here, how can I be of service?”

“Cuteguy, it’s time! The time is nye! I- wait, Joe?”

Joe recognized the dramatic voice on the other end at once. “Scar?”

“Joe?”

“Howdy, Scar!”

“Wait, I thought I gave this phone to Grian.”

“Well, I suppose you did. I just happened to be by, dropping off a shulker box of tnt that he must have dropped by accident onto my head, and I heard the phone-“

“Hold on, I’ll be right there.”

Scar hung up, and Joe pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at it in confusion. He considered leaving, he really did, but after a rather arduous debate in his head of how much time he could be spending on his pinball machine instead of waiting on Scar, he ultimately determined that time spent with friends was always time well spent. He had just come to that conclusion, in fact, when Scar crash landed right in front of Joe.

“Ahh! One heart, Joe, one heart.” Scar said, while Joe helped him right his wheelchair. “Now, where’s CuteGuy?”

“Who?” Joe asked. He took stock of Scar’s outfit, which was a tight black unitard looking thing with blue and orange details. “And what on earth are you wearing?”

“Well, I’m HotGuy, of course!” Scar straightened up, taking out a deadly looking bow and pointing it, clearly posing, which Joe took as the cue to make appropriate awed noises. “But every good superhero needs his sidekick, and I was hoping CuteGuy would have gotten my message.” Scar looked around, like this CuteGuy guy would be hiding in a corner or something.

“Scar, there is no one on the server named ‘CuteGuy’- I feel like Xisuma would have told us if he’d whitelisted someone new.” Joe said very seriously.

“What? No! Okay, Joe, listen,” Scar lowered his voice conspiratorially, and Joe leaned in, keeping an eye on Grumbot as he did- who knows who could be listening. “CuteGuy is Grian’s alter ego. Like how I’m HotGuy.”

Joe put a hand to his mouth in shock, to be polite. “You mean it was actually you who terrorized me all those months ago while I was building a sign for King Ren?”

Scar clicked his tongue in an awkward kind of way. “No time for that, Joe! The point is, I need a sidekick right now, and Grian is nowhere to be found. So, Joe, what do you say- wanna come be CuteGuy for a little while?”

Joe considered this. He had many questions, but Scar had a sense of urgency in his tone. And Joe did like to say yes to new experiences…

“Well, I suppose I could help you out Scar- I mean, HotGuy. But shouldn’t I be called something else, as CuteGuy is kind of more of a Grian thing? I wouldn’t want to invade his creative space.”

Scar rubbed his chin, thinking hard “Maybe… are there other adjectives that are like hot and cute?”

“Oh! I was named the sexiest Minecraft youtuber via a set of tumblr polls!” Joe exclaimed. “Sexy… guy?”

“Tumblr? What’s that, like a disease or something?” Scar asked.

“I- okay, so I could explain this simply, but even that might take a few hours within itself… if I say the words ‘Ball Pit’, does that invoke emotions within you?”

“Joe, we don’t have time!” Scar put a hand over Joe’s mouth. “Listen, I think G will be fine if you borrow the CuteGuy name and outfit. But we really do need to go- crime does not sleep!” Scar opened the pink shulker box and pulled out a couple of sets of clothes, holding them up to Joe and squinting. Finally, he shoved a bundle at him. “Go put this on, and I’ll meet you on Grian and Mumbo’s bridge. Hurry!”

Scar flew up, and Joe quickly changed into the violently pink clothes without much thought. It wasn’t until he flew up to meet Scar did it occur to him what exactly he had on.

“Scar, HotGuy, I don’t mean to complain, but is it really all that sensible to be fighting crime in a crop top and booty shorts? Where is the padding? And the armor?” Joe asked, pulling down on the crop top slightly.

“CuteGuy, in this life, you gotta slay in every way. We’re hotter and cuter then our enemies.” Scar lowered his sunglasses, gave Joe a once-over, and tossed him a huge, glittery pink compound bow. “Now, let’s fly. I’ll explain our mission on the way.” He took off, leaving Joe to put the bow in his inventory and hastily take off after him.

The pink phone began to ring as soon as Joe was coasting in the air, and he fumbled to pull it out of the bag strapped to his thigh.

“Howdy!”

“Alright CuteGuy, are you hearing me alright?” Scar’s voice was cool and collected, if a bit hard to hear over the wind.

“Loud and clear, Scar- I mean, HotGuy.” Joe could see Scar up ahead, and kept pace behind him.

“Fantastic.” Scar turned to give him a thumbs up and a cheesy smile. “Now, for this mission, CuteGuy, we’re heading for the lair of the biggest threat to the server, the goat himself, DocM77. Perhaps you’ve heard of him.”

“I… yeah, Scar, sorry, HotGuy, we’ve both known Doc since season five, of course I know him.”

“Good, good. Recently, I, HotGuy, teamed up with two esteemed revolutionaries to form the Buttercups, an elite team set to take down the goat once and for all. The camp has been set, but we need to send a message to the goat that we mean business. Doc may have fancy redstone, but we have determination, grit, and most importantly, obsidian. Oh, and we’re here!”

“Obsidian?” Joe asked, landing beside Scar on the floor of the perimeter, hanging up the phone. “I thought you were gonna say, like, a pipe bomb or something.”

“No, no, CuteGuy.” Scar pulled out a shulker box and set it on the ground. “We just want to be annoying to good ol’ DocM, not actually kill him. So, we’re gonna cover every surface down here in obsidian.”

Joe looked at Scar, then around at the yawning expanse of the perimeter. “I- yeah, okay. And we are the good guys here, right?”

“Of course.” Scar replied, smiling.

——

It took about five hours of painstakingly placing obsidian, but every surface within the perimeter was eventually covered, which was an interesting sight to behold. Scar and Joe stood at the mouth of Doc’s house, looking down into the expanse.

“I think we did good, CuteGuy.” Scar said, patting Joe on the back.

“This bow was surprisingly effective against slimes.” Joe replied, hoisting up the big pink bow.

“That’s the power of the veloci-tay.” Scar said with an understanding nod. “Now, let’s get out of here before Doc gets back.”

He’d hardly uttered the words when there was the distinct sound of someone coming through Doc’s nether portal. Scar and Joe turned around just in time to see Doc emerge from the portal, and freeze at the sight of them.

“HotGuy?” Doc breathed. “What are you doing here? You and your… actually, I don’t believe I’ve met your… friend?”

“Oh, this is my sidekick, CuteGuy.” Scar waved his hand at Joe.

“Name suits you, CuteGuy.” Doc winked at Joe. “Pleasure to meet you. Now, what was I- oh, what are you both doing in my base? Why does CuteGuy look guilty? What…” Doc’s mechanical eye suddenly flew from the socket, whirring into the air with small but powerful blades. It flew behind the two superheroes and looked down into the perimeter. The room went silent, and Joe watched Doc’s face fall, first into surprise, then anger.

“What the- what did you do? Obsidian?” Doc’s eye flew back into socket, and he actually growled at them. “You annoying-”

“CuteGuy, shoot him!” Scar screeched, hiding behind Joe.

“I- what- okay!” Joe pulled back the bow and aimed it at Doc. The arrow missed. Then another missed. Then Doc was standing right in front of him, glowering.

“It’s a good thing you’re cute, because you’re a terrible shot.” Doc growled.

“Run!” Scar screamed, shooting into Doc’s face over Joe’s shoulder, and they both took off to the sky. Doc typed a bunch of angry and cryptic messages into the in-game chat, but didn’t pursue.

Joe and Scar landed on the bridge between Grian and Mumbo’s bases, breathing heavily.

“We did it! Our first mission as a duo!” Scar held out his hand for a high-five. “What do you say, Joe, want to take on the CuteGuy persona full time? HotGuy needs a good sidekick like you.”

Joe gazed into Scar’s grinning face, seeing his own, glittering pink reflection in Scar’s sunglasses.

“Absolutely not.”

[acciojaeyun]

good boys bring heaven to you ; lee heeseung smut

pairing: lee heeseung x fem!reader genre: smut (minors dni)

in which lee heeseung, the campus’ smart arse, have not-so innocent desires for the woman who needs his help in a class he succeeds in.

warnings: dom!heeseung, degradation, slight manipulation, heeseung is a fucking menace, unprotected sex (reader is taking pills; but still, wrap it before you tap it), hints of switch!hee at the bottom words: 3,603

Lee Heeseung had enough.

He had enough of the way you groaned during Chemistry. He had enough of the way you would bite your lip whenever you frustrate over elements and whatnot. He had enough of watching you suffer when he knows he could help you in the best way that he can.

And you, on the other hand, were quick to accept his invitation that was done as soon as the bell rang, hands on the strap of the bag of each huddled on each of your shoulders. Since then, you’ve tried to read the basics – however, it seems like even the General Science have given up on you.

Not like Heeseung would judge you – oh, no. He wouldn’t judge you. Not now, not ever.

But would people judge you considering that you have checked your reflection on each possible surface where your reflection could be refracted? Possibly. But have them ask you the reason behind you do, they’d possibly understand. It was undeniable that the façade of the smarty-pants of your batch in this semester’s Chemistry was as pleasing as his wit.

Yes, the whole campus agreed that Lee Heeseung is an attractive man.

Maybe that was the reason why you couldn’t seem to pass your Chemistry class, having to have seated beside him, and it’s not like you would ever want to change your seat; one, you’ve grown comfortable with it; two, this was the best class-to-board distance; and three, you had the opportunity of sitting beside him – because, fortunately, the boy looked like he didn’t have any plans on changing his seat the whole semester.

Which leads you to here, phone in hand as you try to locate Heeseung’s dorm room in the dormitory hall across yours. You double-checked the room number a lot, hoping not to mess up by knocking on a different dorm room. 

Oh, and another thing: you didn’t quite understand the reason why Heeseung had decided to tutor you in his room, of all places, when the University library is of approximate distance between each of your dormitory hall. And while there is no strict prohibition for people of the other sex to visit the opposite sex’ rooms, you find yourself gushing over the idea that maybe Heeseung wanted you alone; and while however the thought sends you into a frenzy, you decided to tone things down tonight.

From your thoughts down to your clothing, keeping things simple with a casual white tee with a varsity jacket over it, paired with jeans and white sneakers.

Taking a deep breath, you knocked on the door, and as soon as you felt a gush of air, you were welcomed with Lee Heeseung wearing an ensemble almost the same as yours minus the jacket. And of course, he couldn’t forget his signature black specs and dangling earrings.

A breath hitched in your throat, maybe accepting the offer was a bad idea, you thought. You couldn’t understand how having Heeseung, the boy that caused more distraction and destruction than inspiration, would help you in reviving your grades for Chemistry.

But Heeseung was a determined man, and he will make sure you understood it by the end of the night.

“Hello,” he smiled, eyes squinting as he ushers you in, “make yourself at home, Jake will be leaving soon.” He said as he eyed the foreign guy hunched over a pile of books in his desk.

“I am?” the boy, Jake, asked as he bit the tip of his pencil as he seemed deep in thought over whatever he was studying that time. 

Heeseung gave a look at Jake, to which made Jake realise something. Gaping and nodding in realisation and smiled, “I am!” he exclaimed, rather too obviously, which made Heeseung roll his eyes and rush Jake to leave the room.

“So, as I said, make yourself at home,” Heeseung smiles as he offers to take your things from you, bringing your attention back at him as he placed all your belongings in his desk. You watched him as he walked towards the cooler, retrieving a drink.

You watched as he tipped his head backwards, downing the drink in the most – dare you say it – alluring way as possible. It didn’t help that Heeseung had recently dyed his hair ash gray, making him look ten times more attractive than he already was. His Adam’s apple bobbed, and you were certain you gulped as he downed on it.

As he was finished drinking, he looked at you and tried to hide a smirk, “Do you want some?” 

“No, thank you,” you muttered as you realised that you were openly gawking at him. However, you coughed as soon as you said that. Maybe you were looking at him for too long.

“Come on, I drink this before I study,” he chuckles and walks towards you with the half full bottle of his cold honeyed tea. And while you expected him to hand over the bottle for you to drink from, he held your chin and made you open your mouth when he pinched your cheeks with his hands.

“Mouth open, baby,” he said as he poured the drink on your mouth, to which your eyes widened at such erotic action. Shit, you thought, he knew.

And as you gulped the drink down, you met his gaze and he smirked. With a drop of the tea running down your chin as you tried to swallow the sweet liquid, his eyes darkened, and he let his initial thoughts take over him as he used his thumb to wipe it off, bringing it to his lips for him to suck on his thumb.

“Sweet,” he’d whisper while never breaking eye contact.

You were left standing there as you watched the boy move towards the desk on his side of the room, pulling Jake’s desk chair in the process. “Come here,” he beckoned you over, patting the chair beside him as he turned on the lamp of his table.

And you didn’t know what happened, but as soon as Heeseung scooted his chair closer to you, you were sure you were in a trance because of the overpowering aura the boy exuded. Smelling of blackberry and bay, with hints of fresh linen and books (and you swear to yourself you could smell the faint honeyed tea which you shared a while ago).

“Are you alright, Y/N?” he’d ask once he noticed you didn’t answer a question he had just asked a while ago.

Snap out of it, Y/N.

“Yeah, yeah – “

“You don’t really seem concentrated, do you?” he tutted as he held your gaze, his hand coming near you to push your hair behind your shoulder.

“I am!” you spoke too soon, making the boy chuckle. “Oh, you are now?” he challenged, licking his lips as he played with the ends of your hair, “Say, what is the unit that we call for the amount of a substance in a solution?”

“Matter?”

“Oh, honey,” he fake-pitied, tutting as he pulls your chair closer to him, the act making the sound of the wood against the floor creak, mixed in with your squeal, “that’s wrong, I’m sorry,” 

“How about, let’s turn this into a game?” he challenged, eyes darting back and forth between your eyes and lips, his teeth taking in his bottom lip as he thought of the things he would do to you.

“W – what game? I don’t – I don’t think that’s –” 

“Relax, baby, I’ll take care of you, you want to learn now, don’t you?” he chuckled as he dimmed the light of the dormitory. He started ghosting his lips over the expanse of your cheek as he bowed over your figure, “Now, let’s start with some instructions, shall we?”

You nodded at his inquiry, to which he slightly groaned at your obedience. “God, you’re making me go crazy, babe,” he said as he traced your face with his finger. “First, get one question right, I’ll strip one clothing of mine; get it wrong, and it’s your clothes that are off.”

“No touching, and of course – do your best, what do you think, baby?”

You seemed to be at a loss of words, that the best thing that you could do was a silent ‘yes’ with a frantic nod of the head. You were entirely submissive to this man, and it was driving you crazy.

“Well then, sweetheart, let’s say that water is hard,” he starts, accentuating the last word as he used his finger to force your face to meet his, “is it because of the presence of calcium, sulphate, or magnesium?”

“Fuck,” you whispered, trying to remember what the professor had mentioned last time, “I can’t –“

“Of course, you can. Surely enough you weren’t that distracted by me, ‘no?”

“I – sulphate?”

His eyes darkened as he smirked. He intended to confuse you with the way he constructed his question. He licked his lips as he pulled away, “Top off, sweetheart. It’s sulphate, calcium, and magnesium.”

You gulped and nodded, slowly trying to understand the trajectory of everything that is happening.  You stood up and timidly tried to take off your top, Heeseung’s eyes trained on to every inch of your torso from the waist up. 

“God, you’re so sexy,” Heeseung said in a low voice before retrieving your jacket and white t-shirt to discard on his bed. He winked when he saw your cheeks redden, “Come on, we don’t have the whole night,” he says impatiently as he pulls you back to your seat.

“What’s the purpose of the salt bridge in electrochemical cells?” he asked as he started peppering your shoulders with kisses, as his means of distracting you.

You, on the other hand, almost broke down at the feeling of his lips. You could feel your underwear cling to you the longer it gets soaked by the wetness of your pussy. “Heeseung,” you pleaded, eyes fluttering shut as you tried to relish the faint ghost of his lips.

“That’s not the answer, princess,”

“I – they – um, they –“ you continued to stutter as you feel his mouth sucking on the root of your neck, each word being replaced by a moan, and your hands tried to grip on him but he was quick enough to hit them away.

“Dumb girls don’t get to touch their tutors now, do they?”

“Heeseung, please,”

“Oh, never thought you’d be into begging. Tough luck, sweetheart, you came here to learn. And by the looks of it, you seem to be enjoying this rather than not.” He tutted, biting your skin, making you gasp at his sudden action.

“What’s the answer?”

“Fuck – I don’t know!”

Heeseung sighed in faux disappointment, “They neutralize electrochemical cells. Why don’t you take off your trousers too, baby? It seems like being exposed while I’m fully dressed seem to turn you on more than humiliate you, ‘no?”

You kept your mouth shut as blood rushed to your cheeks.

“Ah, I should’ve thought so,” the ash grey-haired boy said as he started stripping off his clothes. This was way too much for you to handle, so you think. At some point, your thoughts had run back to the time where you were caught by Heeseung whenever you gave him the side-eye. 

You were right, Heeseung had seen everything. The way you look at him and the way you seductively bite your lip whenever you take a sight of him even from afar. He’d seen you gush over him whenever he was around – oh, Heeseung would deem himself crazy if he chooses to let you go. And now that he had you wrapped around his finger, he wasn’t ever going to let you go.

And never he will as your eyes widened when he pulled his pants down, cock springing out from the tightness of his jeans. “Ah, shit, baby, all this for you,” he motioned at his erect cock.

Heeseung pulled the chair farther from you, where you couldn’t reach him. He sat in such a manner where you could see his dick so clearly: thighs spread; hips bucked forward. His right hand that was jerking himself off in a slow pace was the cherry on top.

“Get one question right and I’ll let you sit on my cock, what do you think?”

Your head perked up at the thought, eyes twinkling at the thought of finally getting something. You nodded at his bargain, and he almost laughed out loud at how stupidly cock-drunk you were, considering that you haven’t even had a taste of him yet.

“What makes soaps a surfactant?”

“I – shit, I know this one,” you said as you closed your eyes as you racked your head trying to remember something – at least, something.

“Micellar forces! The soap reduces the surface tension of the surface it is trying to reduce the surface tension, increasing the number of micelle or surfactants in the interface.”

“Shit, baby, you sounded so hot saying all of those,” Heeseung said, biting his lip. “C’mere, baby, sit on my lap,” he beckoned you over with two of his fingers. 

You happily obliged, cradling your legs over Heeseung’s lap, grinding your soaked pussy over his erect dick, both of you moaning at the friction that settled between you both. 

“God, if I only knew you’d answer correctly just for my cock, I would’ve done this ages ago,” he said as he pushed your underwear to the side, two of his fingers immediately coming up to play your clit, making you arch your back as you held on to the backrest of the wooden chair where Heeseung was sat.

“So fucking wet, baby,” he commented, meeting your hooded eyes as you tried to grind on his fingers. “Stop that.” He ordered, making you halt and surrender to the dominance that embodied Heeseung, the man that you thought was too innocent for these things.

Without a warning, he plunged in two fingers in you, making you cry at the sudden intrusion. “Oh, fuck, Heeseung!”

“Yes, baby, that’s my name,” he said, bringing his bottom lip between his teeth as he started to pump his fingers in and out of your drenched hole, spreading his fingers in a scissor-like motion occasionally to stretch you for his size. “Come on, darling, come for be, be the fucking cock-slut you are.”

“Ah, shit, Hee – oh!” you whined as he increased his pace when he added a third finger, fog protruding his lenses as he took in the sight of you, “Heeseung, I’m going to come, I’m going to – oh, fuck!”

And just when you were about to come on his fingers, Heeseung had replaced his long, slender fingers with his thick cock. He pulled you down as his hands held your waist while he thrusted up and down, “Fuck, baby, you’re so warm,” he commented as he brought his face between the valleys of your breast, kissing and licking, trying to commit to memory how good you’ve felt.

Heeseung didn’t even manage to remove your bra, he pushed the cup of your bra to the side by his face, and he took his time in licking, sucking, and biting on your left nipple, making it sore and blowing it with air afterwards to elicit a reaction from you. 

“Shit, baby, you’re clenching around me,” he said as his eyes almost rolled back to his head, “You feel amazing, God – you’re so fucking sexy,” he praised as he desperately tried to chase his high along with yours.

The sound of skin clapping together, the scent of sex, and the long-forgotten Chemistry lectures were all what overstimulated your senses. And all you could ever say were profanities and Heeseung’s name, you swore you felt like you were on cloud nine. He was fucking you good, he was fucking you raw.

“Are you close?” he would ask in between pants as you nodded and whined, “Come with me,” he responded as he gave your pussy a hard thrust, his hand coming down to vigorously play with your clit, his mouth immediately latching on to your right breast; making you lose all sanity as you warned Heeseung that you were close again for the second time – and you hope, this one would be successful. 

“Go, fuck, come, sweetheart – oh, shit,” Heeseung pants as you collapsed on him, hand immediately caressing your bare back as he waited for you to calm down. You were still whining slightly at the feeling of Heeseung inside you – so big and so delicious.

“Are you done?” a voice shouted from outside as they audibly felt like they hesitated in knocking on the door.

“I – I think I should go,” you blushed as you realised that Jake, Heeseung’s roommate, might have heard what you were doing. 

And your ego could go low for as far.

Heeseung helped you slide off him and change back into your clothes. And against his better judgment, Heeseung jutted a kiss on your forehead as he smoothed out your hair. “See you on after lecture on Thursday?”

It was still Friday.

“Yeah, sure, see you, thank you, Heeseung.”

You have been counting the days until it was Thursday. And to be honest, you’ve never realised how time moved so slow until you realise it was still a Monday considering that you’ve felt that you’ve done so much already during the weekend. 

It also didn’t help that Heeseung never reached out to you – not in texts, nor through social media.

But what happens when at the darkest hours of the Monday evening, you were greeted with a Heeseung in his pyjamas, ash grey hair ruffled as if he had just gotten out of bed, he bit his lip at the sight of you in short pyjamas and a shirt too lose that it had situated way past your shoulders, exposing your collarbones.

“I – I –“ Heeseung stuttered as he tried to formulate an excuse inside his head, on how he almost ran his way towards your dormitory without any glasses on (he swears he almost knocked on the wrong door).

“Yes, Heeseung?” you giggled at his lost figure; it wasn’t usual that Heeseung would be at a lost for words. But then again, there was a first time for everything.

“I heard you’re good in Biology,” he blushed.

“I am,” you rose an eyebrow at his statement.

“Maybe you could teach me?”

[hotpinkstars]

Being in a relationship with Yelan, but she works soo much you barely see her </3

However, whilst out browsing stalls in the harbour, you two cross paths. You looked so cute, Yelan couldn’t help but steal you away to have you all to herself, even if it’s just for a moment.

A quickie with Yelan x fem!reader

I’m so whipped for her 😩

-> break time!

synopsis -> yelan finds you when shes on a quick break. she can't help herself, so she takes you behind a building for a quickie.

a/n -> THINKING ABOUT THIS SO HARD OOOH.... thank u for this request my brain gears are turning so fast rn

warnings -> smut, (semi?) public sex, fingering, quickies

w/c -> 470

it was a fine evening in the harbor, so you took this as an advantage to get some fresh air and some grocery shopping done. 

little did you know, your wife, yelan, was approaching you in a rather slow pace. she was on her work break, in which she had approximately an hour to herself. 

she was admiring you from afar, watching the way your eyes lit up whenever a vendor brought out something new to show you, your polite smile and a rather generous tip for taking their time making her want to pounce on your right there.

but she couldn’t do that, it’d ruin her facade. so, she calls your name, motioning for you to come to her with two fingers before a mischievous grin dances across her face.

“hey love, how was work?” you said, your smile contrasting hers. she nods, going on a small rant about how her day was, and how she has to go back again later. she saw your face flip into a frown, your sigh ringing through her ears. 

all of the sudden, she grabbed your wrist, leading you behind a building in an unpopulated area of the city. there weren’t many passersby, which was good.

“i need you,” she whispered in your ears, heat rising to your face. “please.” 

you nod, and she starts undressing your bottom half, leaving your panties on. she pushes you into the wall, your back facing her. she’s got a hand under your shirt, cupping and playing with your soft breast, while the others already found their way into your undergarment.

you were taken off guard by how quick it started, just ten seconds ago you two were walking side by side to this location. 

“yelan,” you moaned lightly, making her put another digit into your soaked hole. 

“so wet, so desperate,” she smirked, grinding against your ass and putting yet another finger in. “so needy f’me.”

you whine a little at the pressure, gripping the walls to the points your knuckles turned white. she kept pumping in and out of you at a fast pace, curling her fingers into your gummy walls.

“‘m gonna cum-!” you moaned, the pleasure of release running through your body as you made a mess on her arm, the rest dripping down the wall and onto the floor. 

she helps you clean up and redress yourself, letting you keep her coat for the night to not draw attention to how soaked your bottoms got, even though they weren’t even on you. 

“shit, i’ve gotta head back to work now,” she kissed your forehead, putting the jacket over your waist. “i’ll be home late tonight. we can pick up where we left off if you stay awake long enough.”

you nodded, sharing a passionate kiss on the lips before parting ways.

[xuterboo]

Good day! Or night? It doesn’t matter, today we will have residents of Hades for analysis

Recently I found a person who posted all the (at that time) characters in full size. Why did I find this so late 🥲

However, let's get started

Some of the kings dress differently from their subordinates, but Levi decided to insert his own dress code. In Hades, strict clothing is accepted. With permission for some accessories, similar to the type of chains the King himself had. On the hand of the King of Envy you can see three sixes located in a circle. Honestly, at first I didn’t understand that this was the number of the devil. I thought it was some kind of symbol with deep meaning. But everything turned out to be simpler

Foraz and Valefor share the same clothing style. Apparently they occupy approximately or the same positions at work. The details that are interesting to me are several things: a noose on the neck, which speaks of devotion (applies to all the demons of Hades), different left boots, differing only in color and material (?) And of course capes with ropes on the sides. I don't think I particularly like Hades as a country, but the fashion there is great 😍

Foraz has distinctive details in his image: a chain on his horns and a tattoo on his cheek. What's also interesting is that he doesn't wear the chain because he's imitating Leviathan. More precisely, not only for this reason. According to Foraz, he just likes the look of the chain. And also his tattoo is his own artifact.

Barbados has a fur belt with his signature rose flower. The same pose is on his earring, and the artifact of this character is also a rose. Oh yes. And attacks too. He really loves roses. He even smells like roses. It seems he even eats them sometimes hahaha

Glasyalabolas, (Damn, I hope I didn't summon some creature while I was writing this) altogether a unique case. Judging by the medals and banners, he is a general, or any military figure. This can be judged by the carriages, a special braided rope with peculiar tassels, black and white ribbon and, in principle, more luxurious clothing. Fighters get paid a lot, especially in high positions.

I want to say that his artifact, the raccoon, does not suit him at all. He's a menacing killing machine. What, the hell, a stuffed raccoon??

The name Glasyalabolas is made into 2 words and one French article "La". As we know, people took many things from hell, and France is the embodiment of Abbados, the land of lust (We can judge this by the names of the demons from there). In that case, my question is, what did you forget in Hades? The vibe from this character suits the place though.

By the way, Hades itself represents the architecture of England, somewhere in the Victorian era. Absolute monarchy and complete submission are very similar to this country

[ineylesian]

NO LEAF CLOVER

─ SIMON “GHOST” RILEY X FEM! READER

PREFACE | this is continuation of another fic, “me, or him?”. it’s advised that you read that before this

AO3 | MASTERLIST | CODENAME: FANGS MASTERLIST

WORD COUNT | 8k

SUMMARY | you had made your choice, all you had to do was execute.

however, a small tinge of you knew that you could never be true to one side; and you would face the grim consequences of disloyalty in the vision of never resting nightmares and a smoking bullet.

WARNINGS | angst, smut, canon typical violence, vaginal fingering, a mix of rough and kinda soft sex, hard overstimulation, finger fucking, cum eating, make up sex if you could even consider it that, implied graves x reader (and a little action), biting, scratching, clothed sex, grinding, you make ghost cum in his pants, he does the same to you dw, unprotected p in v, cumming inside, thigh fucking, ghost literally fucks the shit out of you, but it’s angsty as hell, the mask stays on this time boys

AUTHOR’S NOTE | still can’t stand the people that say ghost is completely emotionless bro, like yeah he’s an edge lord BUT he cares about those closest to him and that’s how i portray him… my baby cakes fr fr

THIS WORK IS MEANT TO BE WRITTEN IN AN ADULT READER’S POINT OF VIEW. READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.

11:07 PM.

FUERZAS ESPECIALES HQ // LAS ALMAS.

“Exterior squad 414, report, over.”

Click.

“All good here, sir.”

Radio waves fell shallow as the remaining patrols checked in, leaving only the soft rattle of metal against concrete to your ears. A few seconds passed before the canister popped, engulfing the narrow exterior you stood in with heavy smoke, soon giving way to an array of green lasers on the walls. You ducked under the first two, gloved hands sliding along cold stone to fall into a prone next, just barely shifting past the harsh buzz after a few slow movements.

A quiet hum responded to the force of your hand on fluorescent red, leaving the last section of the underground tunnels in Fuerzas completely unguarded.

You crouched down beside the first corner in the system, pulling a flare from your pocket, setting it alight, and stepping away. A single spark shot from the pyrotechnic before it was crushed by your foot, the bundle of ashes seeping from the short lived explosion allowing you to trace a check mark onto the wall with your foot.

“Exterior squad 182 to Commander Graves, permission to send traffic?”

Your eyes narrowed at the panic steadily climbing each word, prominent even through static.

“This is Graves actual, send traffic.”

“There’s a hostile bird inbound, sir. Approximately 2 clicks away and approaching fast.”

A distant curse carried over the comms, followed by a short bout of silence save a few shuffles.

“Copy that, 182. Lock down and stand by for further instruction.”

Creaking metal followed your return to the surface, sliding a pair of binoculars out of your pocket, and peaking out above the fortress walls. The violent whir of fan blades led your vision to the southeast tower, clicking down on an effective zoom before holding the lens up to your eyes, spotting Price behind a sharp glint of light. A brief wave was shared between you before he raised a hand to his comms, giving you the green light to move.

“Cobra to Graves, what’s your location?”

“Heading to the FE General, be careful on your way over.”

Your fingers fell from the comms button on your shoulder, turning your attention to the array of warehouses ahead. A minute of dodging your own soldiers and you were kneeling beside a sequence of panels on the 4th warehouse down, sliding a screwdriver into each bolt while lightly prying at the edge. Once the metal surface plate popped off, you unclipped a small canister from your vest, tugging the cover off with your teeth before dropping it into the filter and fastening it back to the wall.

You stood back up at the cue of a soft hiss from the depths of the ventilation system, tugging yourself away from the building before it spread outside.

Price had called your part in their covert operation “The Fixxa Uppa”, point and blank. You had held your tongue at the lack of empathy he held for your situation, giving strict orders to kill any Shadows on sight, and apprehend Graves.

Quiet footsteps and sand hidden tracks led you to the Fuerzas Especiales General building, still pristine in coating and flying the Los Voqueros flag. You sighed at the recollection of Graves’ refusal to tarnish what represented your old allies, scolding your soldiers about reputation and the idiocy of raising an American flag in Las Almas.

The lower region of your chest pulsed slowly at the thought of Shepherd, now exposed and helplessly losing thousands of soldiers by the minute. Yet, your mind also flicked to the flip side: Graves, frantically barking out orders over Shadow Company’s comms while providing as much support as he could give. And you? Perhaps the rapid shift of your pulse with each waking step proved that you really did feel bad, but you and everyone that knew you were well aware that you despised Shadow Company.

Yet, you had stayed, fiercely protecting and slaughtering the men under you all the same. Every action for the sake of the man who you were set out to betray.

A heavy series of explosions coaxed your steps swifter, knuckles raising to deliver three swift knocks on the conference room’s door. The familiar rap pattern led the door to swing open almost instantly, your wrist being seized in the process.

Your eyes parted as you were pressed against the door, eyelids clamping down to adjust to the loss of light. Reopening, you were welcomed the slim, familiar outline of Graves, light pants representing the life you couldn’t see.

You clicked the flashlight fastened to your vest on, illuminating his face in a soft white glow. His skin glistened with a light coat of sweat and blood, hair disheveled, belt almost bare, rifle hanging carelessly from his side. Your gaze slowly drifted to his face, taking in the sight of his teeth fastened to his upper lip, eyes drilling into your own in a tight squint.

Any upcoming words of concerns that had planned on parting your mouth were washed away just seconds later, in their place the flaming sensation of Graves’ lips sealing over yours, swiftly, aggressively, filled to the brim with indecipherable motive.

Graves never kissed you on missions.

Yet here you were, inhaling the scent of smoke and pine on his collar while his blood dribbled down your chin, coating your tongue with metal as he brought your faces closer together. One of your hands subconsciously reached for the back of his head, keeping his mouth firmly planted against your own while he feverishly sank his teeth into your bottom lip, drawing a harsh breath from your nose.

The sudden blast of a breach charge broke you apart, followed by the rise of gunfire on the first floor. You frantically reached down, fumbling with your belt before snatching a case of 5.56 mm cartridge from the side, fastening it to Graves’ waist.

“They’re after you.” Your words came out jumbled, too focused on turning him towards the emergency exit just one room over. “You have to get out of here.”

Your efforts fell to no avail, however, as Graves was quick to pull your wrists down, rooting the both of you in place.

“I’m not leaving you here, Fangs.” He retorted, swiftly coaxing you behind a desk before crouching down, softly running a hand over your arm before falling to his gun. “We live together, or we die together. Remember?”

Of course, how could you forget?

The phrase echoed in hand with choruses of flying bullets and screams as a small group of your soldiers barged into the room, narrowly avoiding incoming spurts of fire. You raised your gun to rest against the desk’s surface, peaking over the side to ensure you were firing in dead areas. After spending the entirety of your mag, you pulled your rifle back, silently hoping they had noticed you flick your gun’s muzzle flash on.

An aggressive sequence of beeps fell close to your ears as you slipped a new clip into your weapon, leading your eyes to widen in shock at the sight of a semtex laid to rest on the surface right above you.

You threw your gun to the side before kicking Graves as hard as you could, sending him staggering a safe distance away and heading in the opposite direction. Bullets chased every fraction of your explosion-illuminated movement, forcing you to slide down on the floor next to one of your men.

However, you were only welcomed to the sight of glistening knife harshly jutting into the chest of your cover, spurting a hefty coat of blood onto your cheek. Your eyes widened in shock as the solider grabbed hold of the arm that held the blade inside of him, twisting himself and the attacker back into you, pushing away to leave him falling straight into you.

Sweltering winds kissed the hairs plastered to your face as the force sent you flying backward, crashing through the window behind you, fraying your skin with minuscule shards of glass. Your waist was roughly seized by the man on top of you, swapping your bodies seconds before you smacked against the ground.

You cried out in air deprived silence, hearing a series of cracks erupt throughout your upper region as the impact rolled you to the side, melding the world a fleeting series of red and white before fading to black.

—-

ONE WEEK LATER.

beep.

…beep.

BEEP.

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

“Cobra… you hear me? Try opening your eyes.”

The words reigned similar to static in your head, each inhale pooling a deep ache in the front of your head. A jittered breath pressed it’s way out of you as your eyelids pried apart, leaving you to clear the atmosphere with a few blinks before looking to the side. On the side of your bed stood Price, sending an affirming nod your way while he set a change of clothes on the table beside you.

“Welcome back, soldier.”

You slowly shifted your way up against the pillows, wiping a hand along your eyes while the other detached the ventilator mask from your mouth.

“The mission.” You breathed out, eyes snapping to Price. “What happened?”

“Well, your accident was distracting enough to stop the mission before we could complete it.” He started, offering a bottle of water your way. “We had to drop everything to save you.”

He paused, gaze drifting to your watch, surface glass now split unevenly down the middle.

“I was hoping you could help us. Graves is completely off our radar, and we need to take care of him before moving in on Hassan.”

Your breath hitched, hand clamping down on the bottle of water resting above your lips.

“Our mission is kill on sight.” He continued, lips settling into a thin line. “But I’m willing to give him a choice before that. Join the Task Force, or die.”

You remained silent for some time, taking a swift glance at your watch before looking back over to Price.

“Alright.”

“Good.” He nodded, lightly patting your shoulder before standing up. “We’re meeting up at Flint’s in a bit. Join us if you’d like.”

Darkness enveloped your vision once his footsteps completely faded, hands growing clammy at the thought of even putting a hand on that watch. However, you’d agreed to it, and Price had certainly done you a favor by dropping the mission to save you.

Sighing, you leaned forward, legs kicking off the bed to stretch before you slid off of the sheets, wobbling slightly until your body adjusted to carrying your weight once more. Dim infirmary garments were swapped for one of your “civvy” outfit, leaving only the watch on the table as you slipped your right shoe on.

Cool metal snaked around your fingers, lightly securing hold around your wrist as you brought it down, following a soft click of worn silver and carbon fastened against your skin. You tapped on the messages app next, sliding down to Graves’ contact before placing your finger over it. Your teeth lightly rocked against each other at the blank canvas of screen before you, fingers hovering over the small keyboard as you thought. Ever so slowly, they began to move.

YOU

“Still alive?”

SENT. 5:48 PM.

Your watch sat idle as you pushed through the front doors of Flint’s, waving your hellos to Price, Gaz, and Soap before sliding into a booth nearby. Soft strums of an electric guitar fell to ring around your ears as a waitress walked up to you, setting a small glass of water in front of you with a smile.

A part of you hoped he didn’t answer. That this could all be over and you could leave Las Almas behind

But you knew it wasn’t that easy. It never was.

Minutes passed before a shadow passed across your table, the sudden halt of footsteps rousing your attention. Your eyes parted in surprise at the sight of the man now sitting directly across from you, setting a shot of whiskey on the table with a soft clink.

“Ghost?”

His eyes drifted up from the rim of his glass, locking you in his usual, hard gaze.

“Knew it’d take more than a fall to kill you.” His voice drifted out low, devoid of the gritted shout he adorned during missions. “Was worried you’d gone soft.”

Your eyes dragged along the upper region of his sweatshirt, stopping at a small strip of white that sat wrapped around his neck.

“You broke my fall.”

“Smart girl.” He leaned forward, lifting his mask up a fraction to take a sip of whiskey. “Antibacterial gauze works wonders.”

Your attention broke off at the rise of a buzz on your wrist, leading you to lift the device up while flicking it on.

2 NEW MSSGS.

Your heart rate picked up with each tap, fingers drumming noisily against the table as you waited for the screen to load.

GRAVES

Christ, Fangs, thought I’d lost you.

How are you doing? You safe?

“Cobra.”

YOU

Yeah, I’m okay. What about you?

“Cobra, hey, I’m talking to you.”

GRAVES

I’m good.

Still in Las Almas?

“Fucking Hell, [name].” You felt your wrist being snagged from across the table, pulling reality back to you in the form of an annoyed glint of narrowed eyes. “Stay on task. His location, that’s it.”

A lump pushed its way past your throat, following a shallow nod as you looked back down.

YOU

Yup.

Can we meet up?

You flashed the watch in Ghost’s direction, eyes knitted in irritation at the feeling of his eyes hounding every movement of your fingertips.

“Ghost.” You pushed through partially grit teeth. “I can feel you staring at me. Stop.”

A swift glance upward showed pure negligence of your request, his gaze seemingly burning a hotter trail into your skin than before, sinking uneasiness into the veins below.

GRAVES

Shadow Company has one stocked warehouse on the outskirts of Quilán. Tomorrow work for you?

Ghost leaned over to look at your outstretched arm, giving a curt nod at the message before standing up. You followed, fingers typing one last message before showing it to him and shutting the watch off.

YOU

6pm. I’ll be there.

—-

THE NEXT DAY.

5:52 PM. QUILÁN, LAS ALMAS.

Cool winds swirled around the barren expanse of the vast plain ahead, coating your hands in tiny fragments of sand. You stopped at the foot of a tree line, spotting two sizable warehouses peaking out of a fortress of barbed wire. The sight of shifting masses atop the towers flanking each side of the perimeter led you to place your fingers against your shoulder, tapping into 141’s comms.

“Be advised, multiple armed personnel spotted.”

One of your hands raised in a wave, earning the reaction of one guard before moving forward. You imposed a sickeningly faux smile at the entrance gate, earning a series of nods from the guards stationed there as they let you in.

“Good to see you, Lieutenant.” One spoke, motioning off to the larger of the warehouses. “Commander Graves wishes to see you as soon as possible.”

“Thank you, soldier.”

You broke away from prying eyes by rounding a corner, taking a glance around to ensure no one was watching before patching into comms once more.

“Larger warehouse in 2. Cobra out.”

The earpiece was shoved into your pocket, leaving you just one stretch away from the warehouse. Turning to face the front door captivated your spine in a frigid chill, rendering your blood cold in comparison to the blazing sand chipping into your skin. A sigh pooled from the depths of your nose as your gaze dropped down to the handle, hand reaching out to hover above it whilst you waited for visuals on your team.

Your watch flashed 18:00.

Soap poked his head out from the top of the warehouse, sending a thumbs up your way before ducking back down.

Okay.

A steady groan followed the drag of metal against the floor, illuminating the pitch black interior with marengo streaks of light. Your eyes traveled along the contents of the warehouse, eventually stopping to focus in on a large mass of crates and containers, and a thin shadow looming out of the side of them.

Through shifting shadows of grey and black, you saw Graves step away from an array of ammunition boxes, holding a finger up in wait as he fastened a few clips to his belt. However, his hand only dropped flat as he glanced over, taking in the sight of you with pleasantly widened eyes.

The last of your footsteps clicked against the vast space, rousing a shuffle instead as you stopped to look up.

You couldn’t bring yourself to smile at him. Hell, you couldn’t even speak, and he knew, arms stretching out to envelop your being, holding all of you against him like he’d die if he let go. Warm hands brought themselves up to grasp lightly at the back of your shoulders, allowing your arms to snake around his neck.

The two of you stayed there for some time, long enough to numb the soft movement of your arm running down his vest. Seconds passed before the safety of a gun clicked just feet away, shooting Graves’ head up as he let you go. The attempt of his body to turn around fell to no avail as one of your hands clamped around the pistol strapped against his vest, rooting him where he stood.

Price slowly made his way towards the both of you, gun pointing solely at Graves, allowing you to step away, tossing his gun under one of the nearby crates.

“You’re gettin’ two choices here, son. Only one of ‘em is gonna let you out alive.”

Graves’ mouth fell to rest in a flat line, hands leisurely moving to rest above his head. His gaze then traveled over to you, what was once a soft meld of blues hardened into something more practical. Then, he looked up, breathing out a quiet huff of amusement at the sight.

“Join TSF 141, or die.”

Price stepped closer, watching as Graves’ eyes lowered back down to you.

“Could’ve guessed you were playing me, Fangs.” He lightly shrugged, nodding up to the man crouching on the rails above you. “Big dog Ghost up there left a little something back at the warehouse, didn’t he?”

Your eyes narrowed. The knife.

“Make the right decision, Graves.”

“The right decision?” He scoffed, flicking a finger between you and Ghost. “I’ve been giving everything I have for you, only to figure out you’ve been fucking around with him? Now you want me to join you?”

“This isn’t about him, or any of them.” You snapped back, jabbing a finger against his chest. “You knew what Shepherd did to us, and you still chose to stay with him. How can you live with yourself?”

“You’ve got one last chance, son.” The gruff call of your captain rang out, feebly smothered against airborne tension. “What’s it gonna be?”

“Who was by my side the entire time?” Graves voice pushed out low, taking your finger and turning it to push against your vest. “Only you made that decision.”

A single, deep breath pushed its way from your mouth as you brought the same hand up, ripping Shadow Company’s insignia off of your chest, dropping it to the floor, and smothering it under your boot.

“It’s not too late to change.”

His head shook slowly, taking a step back from you before lowering his hands.

“Not for you, Fangs.”

The world before you sparked into a violent surge of smoke and fire as explosions broke out from above. Gunshots scraped against the ground near you as you ran, diving behind a nearby crate to cover yourself.

Only to realize the inside was fizzing.

You were sent flying backward as the middle of the warehouse erupted into flames, the sheer force of the chain linked explosions slamming your back into the wall. Air starved lungs desperately inhaled smoke, leaving your vision blurred and burning at the thickness of the atmosphere around you.

Your arms weakly pushed against the ground, pulling you far up enough to grab the side of a table, hoisting yourself to stand with a pained groan. A massive crash echoed from across the interior, shaking the ground below you and pulsing blistering waves of smoke against your face. Another followed shortly after, only leading you to assume the roof was collapsing, the shriek of stressing metal confirming your suspicions.

Raising a hand to your shoulder, you pressed on the your radio, using your spare hand to hold your earpiece to your ear as you ran.

“Price, Soap, Gaz-“ You paused, choking on a fresh inhale of fumes. “Does anyone copy?”

Silence.

You cursed under your breath, bringing a hand up to hover against your lower face whilst running amidst the shadows. Your foot kicked against a railing, leading you to blindly turn for the stairs, narrowly avoiding falling chunks of debris from the ceiling as you neared closer to it. The thin flooring shook under each of your footsteps, the section behind you breaking off with a sharp clang just after you’d cleared it.

Sucking in the ashen material of your arm, you broke into a sprint, heading for the first gleam of light visible. Your arms rose to cross over your face, shattering glass as you dived outside, stealing harsh breaths of fresh air from the sky on your fall.

You landed in the midst of a large bush with a quiet thud, breaking into a coarse fit of coughs and retches in a desperate attempt to clear your system. Once the haze of CO2 had swept out of your lungs, you pulled yourself out of the mass of thick branches and leaves, staggering up to look at the warehouse before you.

“Cobra, do you copy?”

Your hands fumbled for the button on your shoulder, tapping into 141’s comms with a sigh of relief.

“Good here, Soap.” You responded, pacing away from the destroyed warehouse. “What’s going on with the others?”

“Don’t know, you’re the only one I could reach.”

“We need to find the others. I’ll take the second warehouse, you sweep the outside.”

“Got it.”

You let go of the comms with a hum, eyes moving up as you approached the smaller warehouse. The sudden rise of gunfire widened your eyes, clear that it came from the inside. Your boots fell hard against dry grass, kicking up heavy tracks before you jumped on top of one of the ac units hooked to the wall, using the slight leverage to pull yourself up to the hanging ladder halfway up.

A fury of dying lights sparked against the air as you peered down through the skylight, running towards the edge in sight of a vent. Gripping the ledge of the shingled roof, you slid in through the metal nailed to the wall, boots softly thudding against a metal walkway overlooking the inside. Thinly strung lights dimly lit the vast area below, only giving way to the continuous reign of bullets clanging against metal.

You dropped down to the next section, dodging weapon crates and supplies before breaking for the staircase. Frantic hands unhooked the Deagle on your belt as you grew closer to the ground floor, spurred on by the abrupt end of shots from all around. Your hands laid to rest against the nearest railing, watching with wide eyes as a lowly flashing streak of red shot past you face, and to the far side of the warehouse.

One of your arms instinctively raised against the mass detonation of the semtex fused with boxes of mines, lighting one side of the warehouse up in a raging sea of flames. Tugging the safety off of your pistol, you jumped down onto one of the crates below, kneeling against the edge in search of any signs of life against the weak light of fire. Eventually, a shadowed figure crossed not far off from where you perched, leading you to scale the line of containers in swift apprehension, keeping your movements light.

Your teeth grit firmly together at the rising waves of familiar heat brushing themselves against your skin, the waves in pursuit forcing you to climb up a layer to breathe. Eventually, your target led you to a small, void area of the warehouse, charred black, and holding a slumped body against the ash. Your eyes widened at the scarce patch of white on his face illuminated by edging embers, your breathing increasingly erratic by the second as the quiet click of a gun’s safety rang out from the shadows.

Before you could articulate a reasonable plan of action, your feet were sliding off of the containers overlooking the scene, landing just above the shadowed figure with a harsh thud. The reaction to the noise was not sufficient enough, as by the time the gun was pointed your way, you had blindly tackled them against the wall, hand moving to hold their gun up as you slid the Deagle against their chest.

A crude gunshot bounced off the walls, crawling into your ears in horrid sight of the body pinned against your leg. You stepped away from the mass of blood pooling onto the ground beneath, watching as the lifeless body of Graves slumped against the ground, his blood sickly warm on your hands. The warehouse grew silent in your wake, save the faint crackling of burning wood, ever softer the drops of red liquid falling to mix in with the rest.

“COBRA, GHOST?”

The words spoke muffled to your ears, fighting against the deafening drum of your heartbeat pounding against every crevice of your being. A hand took hold of your shoulder amongst the scorching ripples of heat, turning you to face Price, who gave you a light squeeze where his hand sat as he took your gun.

“Good work, kiddo. Let’s get you patched up.”

—-

ONE WEEK LATER.

CHICAGO, ILLINOIS.

2 NEW MSSGS.

SOAP

Hey, didn’t get the chance to see you after the mission.

I owe you one, big time. Let me know when you’re free?

YOU

Tomorrow okay?

The watch fell limp against your side, following the brush of a bag hitting the ground. A briefcase was placed against your coffee table, beside you an SR-25 waiting to be taken apart.

Not an ounce of pride swelled in your chest at the achievement of killing Hassan. The honorary medal that had been draped around your chest now sat idle on the floor, particles of dust beginning to settle over the bright coat of gloss over the surface. Deft hands worked in steady motions, pooling out breaths of focused air as you pulled the weapon apart.

Your mind had been elsewhere for some time, thoughts scrambled by dull static while you sat atop that building, sparking not even an ounce of a reaction out of you as you pulled the trigger. Instead of confirming your kill, you pulled the sniper back, silently disappearing as soon as you’d arrived.

The visions had been relentless. When you closed your eyes, you saw horrified faces and snow white bandages stained red, the scent of gore and death so evident, so real that you choked on your breath. And you saw yourself, watching Soap and Gaz carry him away, earning nothing but stale breathing from blood coated nostrils.

You’d been told he had a 15% chance of survival. That was, before you left to finish Hassan and the cartel. It was said that chance would rise to at least 70 with a blood transfusion. They advised against it, you were taking his job, steady aim was more important that everything else. Just a little missing blood could have thrown off your aim, let one of the world’s most notorious terrorists walking free after dropping a missile on the Pentagon.

You did it anyways, taking the gamble that the doctors wouldn’t tell Price. Guess it paid off well — well enough for the rest of the world, anyway.

A quiet clink shuffled against styrofoam as you placed the last part of the sniper rifle in the briefcase, smoothing over the scope with your hand before shutting it and flipping the locks closed.

It was one thing to be a hero.

And another to be a killer.

The vision of Ghost wasn’t the only nightmare that haunted you since it happened. Graves, the blood, his blood on your hands; the .50 round of your Deagle in his chest.

His funeral wasn’t special, at least from what you’d heard. Your failure to show resulted in a brief visit some few hours after, placing the Desert Eagle beside the small pile of tempered soil that covered him. Ironically enough, it had been more like a late return.. you’d almost forgotten the pistol was originally his.

The door to your temporary apartment clicked shut, leaving you to the garage, and a brand new Porsche, one of the many thanks of service from the military for your success in killing Hassan. If only they knew about Shepherd, the Shadows.. Makarov.

Almost 15 hours and 2 full tanks of gas later led you to the coast of New England, “Her lady Boston” as specifically named by Price. The TSF had a good majority of their American warehouses here, probably as close to the UK as they could get.

Your legs fell limp as you let off the brakes for the last time, shifting into park before leaning your head back against the headrest. A few stretches later and you were off to a small facility on the edge of the city, steadily welcome to the chirp of seagulls and scent of the Atlantic.

An automated door and a cool gust of wind welcomed you to the inside, nodding a greeting to the receptionist before heading for the lounge. Upon seeing Soap, Gaz, and Price, you waved, to which all stopped their conversation and turned your way.

“Aye, if it isn’t the infamous Cobra.” Soap snarked, ruffling your hair with a smile. “Welcome to New England.”

“There’s a whole lot to do here.” Gaz added, giving you a pat on the back. “Hope you’ll hang with us a little.”

Lastly, you glanced over to Price who had just finished putting out his cigar, nodding to you before pulling you into a quick side hug.

“Good to see you, kiddo.”

You breathed out a small sigh of acknowledgment before sliding into the seat beside him, setting your briefcase beside your foot.

“What have you guys been up to?”

Soap and Gaz glanced at each other, then to Price, who shrugged.

“We’ve just been laying low for now.” Soap answered, following a nod from Gaz. “Waiting for Laswell to dig up what she can on Makarov.”

“Shit, Makarov..” Your fingers drifted along the table, the image of Price’s face upon looking at the man’s picture popping into your head. “And Shepherd?”

“As much as I’d like to go after him, the bastard’s untouchable right now.”

You nodded, figuring going after Shepherd would be a waste of time in this state. You’d need a whole lot of evidence to even begin to prove his guilt, and right now, you had none.

“You should get goin’, it’s bad to keep a geezer like him waiting.” Price’s voice rose to your ears, motioning a finger to your briefcase. “Room 24.”

“Thanks.”

Wood steadily creaked under your shoes as you set off in the direction Price had pointed to, briefcase wrapped tightly around your fingers. The hairs on your neck rose with each step down the hallway, forcing you to look down while fiddling with the keys in your other hand. No one had seen him for days beside the doctors, and not even they had permission to say anything regarding his condition.

The sound of the key turning in the doorknob made you step away, running a hand against the clammy skin on your face before placing it on the door.

A hushed creak followed your first step into the room, streaks of harsh light from the hallway clashing against the dim world inside. Your eyes fell into a squint at the loss of light from shutting the door, kicking your shoes off before taking a few steps forward. Seeing as there was nowhere else to go but the kitchen and bathroom, you peaked around the corner to what you presumed was the bedroom, gaze landing on a partially shadowed figure sitting on the edge of the bed.

The sound of the briefcase hitting the floor roused his attention, bringing his features to the light as you flicked the nightstand lamp on.

Part of you wished you hadn’t. Maybe it would’ve been smarter to leave the briefcase and go.

You bit back a grimace at the sight. Your eyes shut momentarily, blinking a few times, unsure then if you even be sure you were looking at Ghost. Throughout all the injuries, all the years, this was the worst you had seen him, less harsh on the eyes, almost.. small. His gaze mirrored that of a sick child, taking in the pure look of visual disgust reflecting your irises.

You weren’t really disgusted, but it sure looked that way.

“Just came to drop off your rifle.”

The words came out in a simple, quick murmur. You turned to leave, biting back a hitch of your breath at the hand clasping around your wrist.

Damn, he was fast.

Silence was quick to latch onto the atmosphere, dripping an uncomfortable buzz into the hand that held you. Your eyes glanced upward, taking in the sight of defiantly cold irises stricken with something.. unusual, the very sight itself turning discomfort to panic.

“Why?”

You blinked up at him, confusion evidently spreading across your features. That question could’ve meant anything, especially now, you’d done a lot of questionable things in the past few weeks. Whatever it was had his eyes shot open, looking like he was seeing a reflection of himself in the mirror.

And maybe he was. Maybe you being here wasn’t good for him.

“Why aren’t you angry?” He grabbed your shoulders, voice hoarse despite the lack of words spoken. “Why did you save me?”

The pure silence of the world around you gave way to a sliver of a crack in his voice at the dying syllables.

“It’s my fault Graves is dead.”

“No.” Your hands grasped at his forearms, feeling them shake through his jacket. “It was my choice.”

Your choice. You said you’d chosen him, and you did.

You’d never anticipated a happy ending after getting closure, but this — this wasn’t what you’d been anticipating. You never expected him to say thank you for saving his life, but you couldn’t wrap your head around why he was looking at you like you killed him.

“I betrayed Graves, and I killed him.” You continued. “Wanna take a good guess why?

Denial flashed through the whites of his eyes, causing him to let go of you, rubbing his hands across his mask.

“Don’t-“

Too late. You roughly snatched his arms, tearing them away from his face before sticking one of your fingers to rest against his throat.

“I did it because I fell in i-“

Your sentence molded into a mere mumble as his right hand cupped over your mouth, his posture gradually folding with each waking second.

“Don’t say something you’ll regret.”

You could feel his hand jittering against your skin, giving away what his eyes tried desperately to hide. And you saw right through it, the anticipation stowed away deep beneath seas of lifeless umber, practically begging to break free. So you placed your hand over his, slowly prying your mouth free before folding your fingers against his.

“If that’s not what you want to hear, I won’t say it.”

When you break Ghost down, Simon Riley is an open book. Right now, his pages of vulnerability were on full display, allowing you to run a hand along his arm, stopping to squeeze at the shoulder. Upon hearing a quit hiss of pain push through his lips, you’d knew Simon Riley was fully yours.

“So, what do you want, Simon?”

A shuddered breath heeded your question, eyes screwing shut as you ran your fingers everywhere they’d go, stopping to rest at the hem of his sweatpants. When you shifted to move, his eyes shot open, grasping your arm to keep you there.

“You.” He breathed, drooping down to rest his forehead against yours. “Always wanted you, Cobra.”

Years of built up tension… insufferable hatred, snapped. Just like that.

Before you could continue to move, Simon broke out into a rather violent coughing fit, leading you to usher him to the edge of his bed. Your hand drifted down to his pants once more, lightly prodding at his clothed erection to alleviate the tension in his upper chest. Seeing as it worked, you pushed him further into the sheets before climbing up yourself, gently moving to straddle his thigh.

The groan he let out at the pressure almost roused a smirk from your end, yet you stuck to lightly dragging yourself against his leg. Your hand groped softly at his dick, watching as his gaze rose up to the ceiling.

“You like that, huh?”

A partially coherent “yes” made its way to your ears, the slight whimper in his tone causing you to bite back a moan. Your own arousal became evident in the partially damp feeling of your clit digging into the fabrics of his pants, the warmth of the skin under threatening to make you drool.

Short, quiet breaths filled the air as your hand worked on rubbing along the base of his clothed erection, earning a muffled noise of suppressed pleasure from him every time your fingers grazed over the right spot. You gnawed at your lips as one of his hands lifted up, loosely grasping your hair while you rocked back and forth on his thigh.

“You like this.”

He shrugged, spare hand moving to run along the hem of your pants, the press of his cool hands against your skin drawing a gasp from your lips.

“You do too.”

You watched as his eyes gradually darkened with each ministration, sweet moans melting into rough groans and curses. It was almost like a switch, how fast he could go from Simon Riley to Ghost. The pure sight of his now bored looking gaze instinctively made you dig your nails into his cock before the pleasure built up too much, eliciting a sharp breath from him in the process. At the same time, he twitched under your fingertips, hips subconsciously jutting into your hands, silently begging you to go faster.

And faster you went, scratching and squeezing coarse groans of pleasure from behind the mask. You got off at the same pace, letting out a low whine as your lower abdomen began to cloud with heat.

“That’s it, cum for me, lovie.” Ghost encouraged, lightly tugging on a handful of your hair. “I’ll be right after you.”

A gravely moan pushed its way out from the back of your throat as you came, completely soaking the fabric underneath you. True to his words, he was cumming just seconds later, a warm patch of seed turning the base of his crotch a deeper shade of grey.

You had no time to regain your breath, as Ghost was already pushing a hand into your pants, rudely shoving your underwear to the side before stroking his pointer finger down your folds. A deep inhale passed him at the feeling of your arousal coating his fingers, encouraging him to being an extra finger in to you with your clit.

“Soaking wet.”

Your eyes threatened to roll at the cocky gaze irises carried, clearly proud of the power he held over you. Yet, he clearly wasn’t over his own pleasure, as two of his fingers were quick to stuff themselves into your pussy, swirling around your walls as they began to pump into you.

“How does that feel?” He asked, dragging his fingers in and out of you, horribly, agonizingly slow. “Got something on your mind, don’t you?”

“Too slow.” You mumbled, fingers sinking into the cool fabric of his jacket at the complete stop of movement. “Don’t- tease me.”

A hum answered your commands, returning his fingers into your leaking pussy at a much faster pace. His fingers grew increasingly slick with each pump until he was practically nailing you, eyes glazing over with pleasure as your fingers delved under his hood, raking blazing lines over ice cold skin.

“Fuck-“ He groaned, head tilting to look up at you as his fingers relentlessly fucked your hole. “Cum again for me, dirty girl.”

Your legs clamped around his arms, crying out in pleasure as you gave into your second orgasm, coating his fingers in a generous amount of slick. Your teeth grit together as he swapped hands, pushing into you with his other set of fingers, raising the others up show you just how much you’d soaked him. Then, he beckoned your hand toward his mask, allowing you to expose his mouth as he slipped his fingers between his lips, tongue wrapping around the sickeningly sweet taste of you.

Those same fingers gently pushed into your mouth after he’d had his fill, making you lap up his saliva as his fingers swirled around the front of your throat. You bit down on your cheek as his fingers slipped out of your mouth and back into your pants, not bothering to hold your legs apart as he started to rub at your clit.

“Mmph, Ghost..” you sighed, hands running along the irritated expanse of his back. “You feel so good.”

“Taking my fingers so well.” He muttered, nipping at your neck through the mask. “Think you can take my cock?”

“You already know the answer to that- shit.”

Your eyes shut tight at the rush of another orgasm building up in you, waves of pleasure messily sloshing in their threats to spill again. Just as you’d thought you’d gotten used to it, Ghost roughly curled his fingers upward, snapping the dangerously thin thread sitting in your abdomen.

“FUCK!” You groaned, shuddering as Ghost fully pulled his fingers out of you, allowing yet another wave of your juices to pool against his pants.

The quiet drag of his sweatpants rustled in your ear, following your own pants being peeled off of your legs, and tossed behind on the floor. You watched as he dragged his boxers down, running a hand along his dick before taking hold of your shoulders and settling you against the pillows perched against the headboard.

And then he stopped. The flash of uncertainty in his eyes clear as the sunny skies of New England.

“Is this the last time I’ll see you?”

Your eyes parted at the sudden question, the burning desire of your answer present in his still, solid gaze. You glanced to the side, thinking about the mere handful of suitcases carrying your life’s worth sitting against your apartment door in Chicago, ready to go on your word. The decision was sure before you came here; leave the Task Force, rebuild your life brick by boring brick.

Yet, when you looked into the ever-longing window of vacance in Ghost — Simon Riley’s eyes, that thought went straight out the window.

However, there was no forgetting the terrors that seethed around him, igniting his very being in a fearful light. You knew it better than anyone else, and as long as you lived around him, you’d be plucking hopes off of a no leaf clover, trapped with the living, breathing nightmare that was Simon Riley.

“I don’t know.”

Maybe you liked the horror, the constant reminders of your failure to stay loyal settling in each crevice of your mind as you woke up covered in sweat, vocal chords arid from screaming.

And Ghost? Oh, he’d fallen deep into it with you now.

Some would’ve called it love.

Others called it getting by.

As much as he hated the uncertainty wavering in your answer, Ghost couldn’t bring himself to stop, stop touching you, stop looking at you. Each flutter of your sweat stained eyelashes made him want to scream, to cry and beg for you to stay with him until he was nothing but a forgotten pile of bones six feet under.

He buried those feelings deep inside your weeping pussy, bottoming out against your walls before dragging himself out, hissing at the way you sucked him in. Meanwhile, you were fighting back the tears that pricked at the corner of your eyes as he relentlessly stretched open your overly sensitive walls, crying out at each full piston of his cock.

This was the misery, a feeling worse than any torture you’d ever endured. The absence of light in your fall from grace, leaving you a shell of the strong soldier you once were, a barely living, coldly breathing shadow. That shadow had spread to every part of you, poisoning your mind with acidic waves of remorse as you continued to be reminded of how you failed to save the man you loved. It was horrible, killing him with your own hands to cover up your failure to change.

You were horrible. And so was he.

Your body screamed at the sloppy thrusts of his cock, in, and out. Tears had long since began dragging down your face, painting the world in a static haze as you threw your head back, crying out at the painfully pleasant drags of his dick, carelessly abusing your pussy.

Maybe horrible wasn’t so bad, anymore. As long as it came with the face of bone white splattered on aged black, and the cold, broken soul that stared at you from behind it.

What felt like your twentieth orgasm hit you with crippling force, starving the air from your lungs as you screamed in grim bliss. Ghost continued to hammer into your sweet spot, chasing his own high and coaxing you back into yours just as fast. What was once slightly ragged breathing had bred animalistic pants, following a bruising grip of his hands on your thighs to keep you steady.

“If you leave.” He spit out, groaning at the sudden clench of your walls around him. “Promise me something.”

You feverishly nodded, pitifully clawing at the abuses of your nails on his back as his pace picked up. A strangled moan spilled from his lips as he painted your insides white, soothing the scorching burn with thick ropes of his seed.

The pull out was gentle, leaving you devoid of him yet so full as he lifted a hand, brushing stray strands of hair away from your eyes.

“Promise you won’t forget me, sweetheart.”

The request pooled out soft, a mere rumble finding it’s way pushed out of strained vocal chords. You thought it was the most beautiful thing — his voice, his body, everything about him seemed like a gift from heaven itself in your infernal world. And even though most of his body was covered, your eyes still fell victim to the mesmerizing sight of the glistening smudges of aged paint, glazed over with a heavy coat of sweat.

He’d never looked so bewitching. The sight alone enough to hound each waking memory and follow you until your last breath. And as long as you breathed, you would hold it with you like a fleeting spark of bliss.

“Promise me.”

His voice rang out again, practically begging for you to say something, anything. You looked at his eyes, taking the barren, so lifeless yet lively plain of his gaze, reflecting the sight of a breezy, cloudless day.

“I promise.”

If crossing empty skies was all this pitiful life had left for you, you would do it over, and over again, and never look back.

[uncharismatic-fauna]

Go Go Southern Lesser Galago!

Also known as the South African galago or the mohol bushbaby, the southern lesser galago (Galago moholi) is a small primate from the Galagidae, or bushbaby family. As the name implies, they are located only in southern Africa, from northern South Africa up to Rwanda. Their preferred habitats are savannahs and semi-arid woodlands, where they can often be found high in the canopy, and they are particularly associated with Acacia trees.

The mohol bushbaby is one of the smaller members of its group; at full height they stand no taller than 15 cm (6 in) and weigh only 225 g (7.9 oz). In fact, their tail is longer than their body, easily reaching 23 cm (9 in) in length. While it isn't prehensile, the tail is still an important tool for climbing as it gives G. moholi an excellent sense of balance. Along with their incredible tails, the South African galago also has one of the largest sets of ears of any primate, proportional to its size; these ears can move independently to help the southen lesser bushbaby avoid predators. G. moholi's final distinguishing feature are their eyes, which are incredibly large and a distinctive orange color. Individuals themselves tend to be gray or light brown, which helps them blend in with their surroundings.

South African galagos are almost strictly nocturnal. At night, they forage through the canopy for moths and beetles. These bits of protein, however, are supplemental; the mohol bushbaby's primary source of food is gum, or hardened sap from the Acacia plant. G. moholi has several adaptations allowing it to specialize in gum extraction, including scraping teeth on the lower mandible; long, rough tongues; and digestive systems that have evolved to break down and ferment the tough substance. Because they have very few defense mechanisms, southern lesser galagos are a common prey for many nocturnal species like eagles, owls, snakes, mongooses, civets, and gennets.

One of the few ways the South African bushbaby avoids predation is through its social units. Groups of 2-7-- typically composed of a female, her young, and a few non-reproductive relatives-- forage together. In these groups, their collective night vision and highly-developed hearing allow them to detect and alert each other to predators long before the threat is immanent. While individuals forage seperately, they keep in contact via loud, high pitched calls that can serve as a warning for predators, a point of contact between mother and offspring, or a territorial warning between males.

Male G. moholi live seperately from social groups, and are highly aggressive against other males invading their territory. This area often overlaps that of several female-led groups, but they only come in contact with each other during the mating season. Unusually, the species has two mating seasons through the year; from January to Februrary (late summer) and from October to November (early spring). Following a gestation period of 120 days, females produce a single set of twins each mating season. Each set is weaned after approximately 3 months, and young become fully mature at 300 days. Female offspring may join the mother's group, while males leave to establish their own territory. In the wild, an individual may live up to 16 years.

Conservation status: The IUCN has classified the South African bushbaby as Least Concern. Studies have indicated that the population is stable and, in some areas, increasing. However, in other areas the species is threatened by habitat loss and possibly capture for the pet and bushmeat trade.

If you like what I do, consider leaving a tip or buying me a ko-fi!

Photos

Gerald Doyle

Peter Webb via iNaturalist

[aprocessionofthoughts]

GIW

part 4 of To Find Rest ao3

It had been three months. Three months! Since the kids had left and Babs could still not find anything on them. She couldn’t even find where they lived!

She had planted trackers on them, because… Well, she had done it, but it had proven useless. She had been able to track them to Wellsburg where the tracker stayed for approximately fifteen minutes before it went offline and hse hadn’t been able to get the signal back since.

She had looked into the towns around Wellsburg but the only one that was about an hour from there was Elmerton and the kids weren’t on any of their school’s records.

She’d tried looking into the kids themselves, but that had also proven unsuccessful. Nothing came up when she searched their names, not in any database. It didn’t even look like they had social media! 

It had gotten to the point where she had asked Tim for help, but he hadn’t even been able to find anything. And now he was curious about why she was looking into a pair of kids. At least he had agreed not to tell Bruce.

Babs sighed, she didn’t understand why trying to find two random kids was so difficult. She needed to find them. The longer it took the more worried she became. What if something happened to them?

Her comm buzzed in her ear.

“Oracle.”

“What’s up, B?”

“I need you to look into some information on an organization I’ve come across. I discovered some men dressed in white trying to break into Wayne Enterprises. They were able to get away, but one of them left behind their badge. I need you to look up anything you can find on the GIW.”

“You got it, B.” 

She’d do this, and then she’d keep looking for the kids. She just hoped they’d be safe for a little while longer.

—-

These stupid GIW were hard to find. She could only catch glimpses of the name in hidden governmental documents. She couldn’t even find what the acronym stood for! All she could find was that it was an organization that was created during Luthor’s term as president. That raised a lot of red flags, but she couldn’t do anything about it until she could locate one of their bases.

Hopefully, one of the agents would be spotted again so that they could be followed back to their headquarters or at least questioned. 

The corner of her screen glitched. Babs frowned. What was— Her entire screen went dark. 

She cursed. This wasn’t good. And then it got even worse as a messed flashed across her still dark screen.

‘STOP LOOKING’

Well shoot.

Then her computer started smoking and sparking before it started melting. She could only stare open mouthed as her computer and her entire set up melted into lumps of metal, glass, circuitry, and wires.

What. In. The. World. Just happened?

She reached up to her comm, but all she could hear was static. She took a deep breath before wheeling herself over to a side table that held her laptop. She worked quickly pulling up the program to reroute the comms through the laptop instead of her Oracle setup.

She winced as loud voices came through.

“What happened?”

“Can anyone hear me?”

“Hello?”

“Oracle!”

“Quiet!” she said and blessed silence fell over the comms. Unfortunately, it only lasted a moment.

“Oracle wha–”

“What is the mea–”

“Why did the comms–

“What’s happen–”

“Silence!” Batman said and the comms went silent once more.

“Oracle, what happened?”

“It will be easier to explain in person. Everyone who’s able should come to the Clocktower. Actually,” she paused, glancing at her melted setup. “We should probably head to the Batcave. The Clocktower might be compromised.”

“Do you think the Batcave is compromised?” Batman said his voice level.

“I don’t think so, but I haven’t had time to check, and I’ll need the Batcomputer to look into it.”

“Fine. Is everyone able to head to the Batcave? Robin and I are already on our way and I’ll have Agent A get Signal.”

“Spoiler and I are on our way.” Dick said.

“Heading there.” Cass said.

“I’ll be a few minutes, I need to break up this attempted robbery first.”

“Hood?” Babs asked.

“What do you need me for?” Jason grunted, followed by the sound of gunfire.

“I’m pretty sure everyone is going to want to know what happened, and I can’t be sure what’s been compromised until I check the Batcomputer.”

“Fine. I’ll be there in a few.'' Then he turned his comm off. 

She sighed. “I’ll be there in a few as well.” She looked one more time at her melted set up and took a few pictures to show the bats, she wasn’t sure if the footage from the cameras in the Clocktower would still be viable, then she left.

It looked like the GIW were a bigger threat then she’d initially assumed.

[fuokir]

Aena Florence Cowell - Profile

◊ Basic Information ◊

▹ Gender: Female ▹ Date of birth:  19th of February ▹ MBTI: Defender ISFJ-A ▹ Nationality: British | Welsh ▹ Blood status: Pure-blood ▹ Wand: English Oak Wood | Unicorn Core | 14 ½" Length | Slightly Springy flexibility ▹ Nickname: - ▹ House: Slytherin ▹ Patronus: Red Squirrel ▹ Boggart: Dragon/Fire ▹ Amortentia: Juniper, menthol, lime ▹ Animagus: -

◊ Appearance ◊

Aena is slightly above average height. She has long blond hair, to be honest it's hard to say what color, her hair was once very burned out in the sun, I would call it a pearl blond, with a warm undertone. Violet eyes, in her favorite sly squint. A long, straight nose, it is very easy for them to get into other people's business. Freckled skin and two facial scars.

▹ Clothing style: Ready to dress up in anything, the main thing is that it be washed and ironed. She loves trendy blouses and comfortable shoes, otherwise she just wants to look neat. ▹ Accessories: Silver earrings. A brooch with which she secures a bow on her collar. ▹ Other distinguishing features: Two scars. First received before Hogwarts, her younger sister hit her with a candlestick in a fit of rage. This scar cuts through her upper lip. The second one was obtained approximately between 4-6 class step (I still haven't decided) in a fight with Aisha. This scar is located across the bridge of the nose.

◊ Personality ◊

Aena is a person who values connections very much, and, first of all, values her own comfort. She can come across as rude due to her bluntness, although she usually tries to choose her words. For close people, Aena is the figure of an older sister, patronizing and ready to help with deed or advice. She is still clueless in conversation, but it has its own charm. If you come to her in a bad mood or in tears, she will definitely coo around you and if words do not help, then be sure that you will be taken to have fun in Hogsmeade, even if Professor Weasley did not give permission to visit the village. Due to her rather reserved nature, it is very difficult to catch her own resentment or bad mood. As a rule, she suppresses bad emotions if the pressure on her is very strong. Cowell is inclined to break loose on someone, but more often than something (Ferdinand Octavius Pratt will never forgive her for his torn portrait that once hung in the Trophy Hall). Otherwise, she learned to live such moments in herself, not wanting to impose her problems.

▹ Traits: Self-confident, imposing, diligent, cunning, communicable. ▹ Likes: Feeling of winning, gift gifts to friends and family (she is one of those people who will see a wild flower, remember you and pick it to give), To speak caustically. ▹ Dislikes: Gobstones, hates all kinds of sweets and candies (childhood trauma). ▹ Good at: Chess, persuasion, remember things quickly. ▹ Bad at: Flying on a broom (she gets motion sick), to be tact. ▹ Hobbies: Board games, Herbarium, calligraphy. ▹ Fears: Fire, fatal disease. ▹ Ambition: Become an influential person in the magical world.

◊ Family ◊

▹Father: Ambrose Thomas Cowell ▹Mother: Lavinia Marjorie Cowell (nee Brown) ▹Sibling: Aeva Francis Cowell (little sister) | Darcia Arthur Cowell (little brother) ▹ Paternal grandparents: Bertram Caspar Cowell and Marjorie Rose Cowell ▹Maternal grandparents: They do not communicate for one reason or another / Aena does not know them, as much.. ▹ Other noteworthy relatives: Angus Beresford Cowell (uncle), Anna Rayne Brown (aunt), Victor Brown (cousin), Cain Beresford Brown (cousin, illegitimate son of Anna and Angus).

▹ Pet: Couple Mooncalfs and Jobberknoll ▹ Family home: Cardiff ▹ Blood Status: Pure-Blood ▹ Social standing: Middle class family, i guess... Aristocracy? ▹ Family background: The relationship between the Browns and the Cowells became very tense after the announcement of the engagement between Lavinia and Ambrose. Both Aena's parents were strong-willed and strong-willed, and although the families did not want this union, in fear that the newlyweds would quickly fall out of love with each other when they were drawn into the routine, this did not happen. The birth of Aena, the first-born, was not accepted by applause, the parents were still very young, just about to graduate from Hogwarts. it was also that Anna, Lavinia's cousin, and Angus, Ambrose's brother, were not careful and their families found out about their union. And although the Cowells, as a fairly young purebred family, were not well known, everyone whispered about the Browns. This angered the Browns and almost all ties between the families were cut off. This did not prevent the girl from growing up in love and care, even in some kind of permissiveness. Aena was a mischievous child. In particular, she adopted the confidence of her father, and inherited from her mother an unshakable determination. Of course her uncle Angus, who frequents them (living for a while with his brother and his family), also contributed. He was cunning, playful, witty and an excellent gambler. During the early years of Ambrose and Lavinia's marriage, he often stayed to babysit his niece while his brother and his wife worked at Gringotts Wizarding Bank. It would be nonsense if, in the end, Aena did not learn to play almost as well as her uncle. Over time, her sister was born, and now not only Angus was the nanny, but Aena herself, because her sister turned out to be a completely restless child.

The Cowell family can be safely called an example of a healthy family, where everyone listens and hears each other. Where conflicts are not hushed up, but resolved. In their house there is always an atmosphere of warmth and comfort. Family members value each other, they will never refuse to help friends and relatives. Her parents still work in a bank. Grandfather was an Auror, and her grandmother worked as a curse breaker. Her uncle Angus does not work anywhere, but thanks to his skill as a card sharper, he squanders money in all directions.

◊ Relationships ◊

It is difficult to write down with whom Alena is friends to one degree or another, since she tends to call a friend a person with whom she communicated a couple of times both of them at school. Anyway, she was the most frequent communication with Amit Thakkar, Aisha Werdy(oc), Grace Pinch-Smedley and Imelda Reyes. With the advent of the New Fifth Year, Aena's friend list has become noticeably larger! Since the fifth year, a new student has appeared in Cowell's inner circle (I would like to use a specific character, but I love many MCs so much … this is a difficult choice for me, in general, your character could be here !!!). Through the new fifth year, Aena became closer to Sebastian Sallow and Ominis Gaunt. This was an interesting experience for Aena, who was very prejudiced against Gaunt due to rumors and stories from her parents. Although her parents did not want to appear biased, because they had also been the subject of all sorts of dirty rumors before, they were very afraid of ties with the Gaunts. Interestingly, thanks to MC, Cowell stopped communicating with Cressida Blume. One day, Aena managed to overhear a conversation between a newcomer and Ominis in the Hogwarts library, where the MC told in detail what he had read in a Gryffindor girl's diary. She also had a quarrel with Imelda for a while, Reyes was tirelessly talking dirty about the new one and Aena was so tired of it that she asked Imelda not to talk to her until it was all over.

Any more serious and romantic feelings were alien to Aena for a long time. Probably the culprit was gambling, through which she received joy and adrenaline. When she was strictly banned from playing within the walls of the school for as much as 2 years, for Cowell it was a global catastrophe. She was still holding small sessions of games in Hogsmeade, Aena could not find a place for herself and did not know what to do. She struggled with background anxiety for a long time, at some point losing any interest in games. Ominis became her distraction. They bumped into each other on the way to Hogsmeade, talking. Gaunt had another problem with his parents (and more problems with Sebastian), Aena had complete emptiness and disappointment in herself as a person (she was really ashamed of her actions). The Slytherins entered into a playful agreement, Aena helped the boy create the appearance of the life that the Gaunts wanted for him (minimal, but this, as it turned out, was enough), and in return Ominis was supposed to simply brighten up Aena's especially lonely days. And so, with slow steps, they became closer and closer to each other.

◊ little things ◊

Heather Mason - Silent Hill 3

Dana Scully - X-Files

Morrigan - Dragon age:Origins

Suki - ATLA

Princess Leia Organa - Star Wars

Rhaenys Targaryen - House of the Dragon

[strixcattus]

Long Quiet design notes:

—He keeps the same general appearance while he's fully mortal, whether it's within the Construct or in the Long Quiet. —The mirror doesn't reflect physical change—rather it's more of a change in mental state. —He's about a head taller than most of the Voices. Stubborn is the only one who passes him in height. He also has longer feathers than almost all the Voices. —His beak looks as though it's somehow merged into his feathers, unlike the Voices'. —While the Voices all have more birdlike feet, his are more human-like and I can't really figure out how to draw them properly. Oh well. —While mortal, he has two wings. Once he wakes up to his godhood, he has four, but they and his tail are all bound to the space of the Long Quiet. Until he accepts his godhood (whether with the Shifting Mound or without), he can't really use those limbs. —Entering the Shifting Mound's heart requires tearing away from the Long Quiet for a moment, leaving him with open wounds where his second pair of wings used to connect. Returning to godhood allows his wings to heal, while resetting the Construct erases all sign they were ever there.

Fully realized form (different versions for both endings):

—His tail becomes much longer in this form, since it and his wings make up the entirety of the Long Quiet (location). —His "ear" tufts are also longer. —Until he accepts his godhood, he's person-sized even when face-to-face with the Shifting Mound. Once he does, they're roughly the same height—she's taller standing, he's taller if he's in flight and you're willing to be generous. They're both approximately half the size of a universe.

[littleseasiren]

Porch Swing

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Tiny bit of angst then fluff

Words: Approximately 550 words

A/N: Flufftober Day 7 Prompt: Porch Swing Thanks @flufftober for this challenge. Photo credit: 123RF Photos. Please let me know if you want to be added or removed from my tag list. Thanks for reading!

Bucky and Steve were away on a mission. They'd been on hundreds of them, but every time you still worried for the man you love. He was supposed to have been home hours ago. Not only was he late, but he wasn't answering his phone. You were anxiously waiting for him on the porch swing, unable to stop the tears from falling onto your lap as your mind came up with different scenarios for him not contacting you. Every single one of them is bad. Tony was busy trying to locate them, but no one was able to pinpoint their location.

Hours passed, worry gnawing at your insides. Your eyes were puffy from crying, the wind blowing through the porch cooling the tears on your face.

You gasped in fear as you heard movement around the corner. Usually, you wouldn't fear anything, knowing Bucky would always keep you safe, but he wasn't here now. The soft shuffle of tired feet was your first indication someone was walking towards you. The moment Bucky came into view, you were on him, jumping from the porch swing, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders, pulling him as close as possible.

"Bucky, what happened? We were all so worried about you." You couldn't stop sniffling, wiping your tears in relief.

"I'm sorry, doll. The mission took a turn for the worse. They even shot my phone - so I couldn't call you. Steve's at the tower now, trying to sort out the mess we left. I just had to see you first. I knew you'd be worried about me."

You were just so happy that he was home safe. "I was terrified that something happened to you," you admit before you take a deep breath. "Come on, Bucky. Let's go inside and check your injuries. I'll grab the first aid kit."

It had become your routine, waiting for him on the porch swing when he was due home, forcing him into the shower and then wrapping up his injuries. You knew he was a super soldier and that he would heal faster than normal, but the routine gave you an outlet for your worries, so Bucky always followed you.

"I'm all right, doll." He grabs you and gives you a quick kiss. "Let's sit on the porch swing for a few minutes first. I want to hold you. Just a few minutes, then you can join me in the shower and check my entire body for wounds," he chuckles as he sits down and pulls you onto the porch swing, his signature smirk making you relax - just a little bit. "You know, every time I go on a mission, my goal is simple: stop the bad guys and get back home to you. You get me through every mission." He moves a piece of your hair behind your ear, rubbing your cheek with his thumb before he continues, "You give me strength when all hope is gone. I've never thanked you for that. For being my girl and giving me a home to return to."

"Always, Bucky. As long as you come home, I'll be waiting." 

Tag List:

@morganmofresh @dottirose @cjand10 @buggy14 @crazyunsexycool @tripleoyaa @mandijo17 @fluffysucker @moviegurl2002 @unkasworld @midnightskyewolf

[luciathcv]

nevertheless, i'm here - lhs

summary: you had just broken up with your boyfriend not long ago and you went to the bar to drown your feelings in alcohol, little did you know, you'd be meeting someone who'd help you || warnings: (ex) bf cheats, drinking (legal age), making out, suggestive ending || wordcount: approximately 1000

I sit at the island of the bar located not far from my house. My face rested on the palm of my hand as I waited for the bartender to get me my drink. Everything in my head was confusing me. Recently, I found out that my boyfriend, Suho, was cheating on me. Of course I was upset but I probably should’ve felt more upset than I actually did. So, here I was, deciding to drown out my feelings in alcohol.. alone. 

I heard a sound of something hitting something else and I looked over to see some guy playing with darts not far from me. As he threw the darts, I watched him. I noticed that he had a tattoo on the back of the neck that was partly covered by his silver-blonde hair. The bartender slid the drink in front of me and I thanked them, paying for it before I took the drink and started to sip from it, still watching the guy play. He was really good, I must admit.

I noticed my phone vibrate on the counter and I turned to look at it, seeing a text from my best friend, Yuna. She was texting me pictures of “inspirational” quotes on unfaithful partners. I couldn’t help but smile, finding it funny even though she didn’t intend to send it with humor in mind. 

I shut my phone off and suddenly, someone sat down on the chair next to mine. I looked up at his face and noticed it was the guy playing darts earlier. He hadn’t looked my way, instead looking for the bartender so he could order himself a drink. His jawline was sharp and he was wearing somewhat dangling earrings with crosses on it. I was lowkey staring, I couldn’t help it. The bartender came over and when the guy spoke, his voice nearly made me faint. God, it was so nice.

I looked back down at my phone as the bartender started making the guy’s drink. I responded to my friend, letting her know that I appreciated her sending me those cringey quotes but that I was fine. As I was sipping from my drink again, the bartender came over and handed the guy his drink.

Suddenly, the guy looked over at me, “Do you play darts?” He asked me. He was talking to me?

I blinked, not saying anything for a moment before I shook my head, “No, I don’t.” I respond.

“Really? I noticed you watching me play earlier so I just thought you played.” Heeseung said and I noticed how a little smirk crept on his lips as he said that. Shit, I wasn’t as discreet as I thought I was.

“Sorry, I just thought you were good.” I say and he shook his head in response.

“It’s fine. It’s just kind of intimidating having someone as beautiful as you watching me play.” The guy then flirtily says. I could feel myself blush at his words and that only seemed to escalate things even more because next thing I knew, he was teaching me how to play darts.

&lt;3

After showing me, he handed me a dart and I stood in front of the dartboard where he was standing. He then went behind me from where he stood next to me and wrapped his arm around me so that his hand was over mine, guiding me. 

“What’s your name anyways?” I suddenly find myself asking.

“Lee Heeseung.” The guy responds, his breath fanning against my ear as he says those two words. I felt like my knees were about to go weak just at the sound of him saying his own name. “What’s yours?” He then asks.

“L/N Y/N” I responded.

“Pretty name. Reminds me of my tattoo.” Heeseung then says. “Ready?” Heeseung then asks and I nod, focusing on him teaching me for now. He then moves my arm and I let go of the dart which ends up landing in the 8 point section.

I smile as I step away from Heeseung who gives me a high-five, “Good job.” He tells me.

“Thanks.” I say with a small smile.

“Hey, I’m gonna go out for a smoke break, wanna join?” Heeseung then asks me.

I didn’t smoke often but I have vaped a few times before, in fact, I had one in my purse right now. “Sure.” I respond and Heeseung nods before holding his hand out for me. 

&lt;3

We stood in the alley right outside of the bar. He took out a cigarette and lit it as I took out the vape in my bag. I brought it to my mouth and took in the smoke into my mouth before I exhaled it away from Heeseung’s face. Heeseung took a smoke from his cigarette before also releasing the smoke from his mouth and god, it was the hottest thing ever.

We made small talk as we smoked with one another and eventually, I put the vape back into my bag as Heeseung finished up his cigarette. He dropped the nearly finished cigarette onto the floor and stepped on it, crushing it into the ground before he stepped closer to me who stood with my back against the wall.

“God, you’re so beautiful.” Heeseung suddenly says before leaning down and pressing his lips against mine. 

The kiss felt so good, the way he touched me and the way he kissed me was the best. The way his tongue gilded against mine felt heavenly and I just wanted him more. I hadn’t felt this in a long time with Suho so it felt nice having someone else make up for it after breaking up with him. 

After a few minutes of making out, Heeseung pulled away, “Wanna come to my place?” He asked me and I nodded. He then took my hand and dragged me along with him.

[malleusarcanum]

••••An Erratic Day••••

[Twst Wonderland]

Sypnosis: Mc is looking for her phone after Grim borrowed it. Grim did something stupid and Mc want to delete it. Now the circumstances commences....

•••••••

Mc: Grim! Where are you?!

Grim:*scratched your legs* I demand your assist--

Mc: *hit him in the head* Where did you placed my phone?!!

Grim: Aw! Grim kept it a while, it's unjust to accuse with no guarantee!! That's not what I'm here for, anyway --

Mc: *hits him again beginning to be pissed* Dont play jokes on me! I'll be in trouble when they saw something on that.

Grim: You fool! You should reprimand Grim, not me.

Mc: You're Grim! There's no other Grim here, the fat cat with weird eyes.

Grim: I'm Riddle, Riddle now is Grim

Mc:*kicked Grims back that hit his face at the floor* I'm really going to throw you.

Grim: *he stood up then climbed to a near desk using its paw and faced near to mc's face with wrath* I'll split that head of yours once I get back to my body!

Mc: Riddle? So.... You switched bodies?

Grim: That's what I'm attempting to proclaim! But you keep hitting me! You'll be beheaded with Grim's acquaintance! *breathed in to absorb air and released flames at mc's face out of anger*

Leona: *passed by and heard the shouting. Came on time and tugged the back fur of Grim. Leaving the floor marked with smoke* You'll relinquish a human gifted with a captivating look once you cook it into ash, kitty.

Grim: That hurts!! And Don't dare name me kitty! Off of all of your heads!!

Leona: Now you're speaking Riddle's language.

Mc: We'll he is Riddle after all

Leona:.....

*Mc explained everything*

Leona: We have to locate that stray kitten.

~~~~~

Mc: Splitting up is rather not a good idea, where the heck is that Riddle? *bumped at someones chest and look up to know who*

Vil: Oh why it is my dear apple, are you looking for something?

Mc: Oh! *thinking if you should tell but you don't want anyone to get involved, Mc is still looking for the phone* I was just heading to a bathroom, that's all.

Epel: That's all? *he whispered at your ear after mysteriously appeared beside you*

Rook: Mon chéri?! Your loveliness "cupped your face on the cheeks and look nearer" there's a hint of mystery.

Mc: *panicked and thought of any excuse* Pardon but I need to head to the restroom! *Ran as fast as you can for them not to follow*

Vil: What interaction does dear apple need with Riddle?

~~~~~

Mc: *stopped running after your eye caught the entrance of the hot spring* We came here before? Maybe my phone's there.

*Ran quickly inside and peeped at the side of the curtains at a room where guys shift into towel robes, luckily no one was there. You stood up and sighed prepared to enter*

Sebek: Human?!

*Mc turned facing to Sebek*

*heard someone slide the curtain from behind*

Lilia: What where you doing in the boys changing room?

Mc: ? *looked back and Malleus is standing just behind you half-naked, turned your head instantly in a split second trying erase what you just saw* I wasn't there before!! I just got here trying to look--

Sebek & Lilia: *Gasped*

Silver: So you did it intentionally......

Mc: It's not what you think! I-i was---

Malleus: Human child, what they saw is already seen. If you'll dismiss us we were approximately finishing what we have started.

Seek, Silver & Lilia: *Dumbfounded*

Mc: *speechless*

Deuce: *arrived while seizing his breath after running* We were looking every hotel chambers and you all just--

*he stopped after seeing you, he looked at the three*

Seek, silver & Lilia: *nodded*

Ace: Oh! No! Did Mc and Malleus just--

Mc whacked his head.

Mc: Just tell us what you came for!

Ace: Aw! You don't have to be so ruthless.

Mc darted its eyes rigidly to Deuce, afraid of being hit so he talked

Deuce: Riddle is inviting all of us for a conference at Teahearts Cafe. They are already amassed on a private room there. Looks like the missing ones are here.

Mc: what the heck did the weird cat think of, you thought.

Kalim: Hey, Fellas! I thought you were presiding to the Tear apart Cafe? *greeted while waving*

Ace: Same to you and sorry but it's Teahearts Cafe

Kalim: I call'em what I want *he looked at Mc and that stunned him* Woah! Did they just---

Mc: Can't we just head there now!

Jamil: It's impolite to cut of someones words. *He turned to Kalim and bowed* I'll go find what you're looking for.

Kalim: Okay! Thanks!

*Jamil left and went to the room where Malleus is standing*

Jamil: Why is he naked?

Mc: Why don't you go do what you are supposed to be doing? While you Malleus get changed already! *Mc cried out while pushing both of them inside the changing room*

Kalim: Did you notice Mc is more cranky than usual? *whispered to them*

Silver: Now you've mentioned it, Mc also behaves more weirder.

Sebek: That human has always been weird

Ace: But today's unlike, Mc even punched my head more vicious than before.

Lilia: Mc is possibly hiding something

Deuce: Do you think it's because they are enforcing something inside and we interrupted it?

Kalim: Yeah! Maybe they're about to....

*Kalim zipped his mouth and pointed someone at their backs*

Ace: About to what?

Lilia: Don't tell me you saw a ghost

Deuce: We're old adequately to understand life so spill it already.

Sebek: I've got it! They're about to formulate a progeny---

*smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!*

*Malleus and Jamil proceeded out of the room and saw something diverse on the six of them*

Malleus & Jamil: ......

Malleus & Jamil: Why are there hills on your heads?

•••••••

I need something to do so that's it for now

[leafofkudzu]

Hear ye hear ye, you are cordially invited to Verdant Shield [VS]’s third monthly community art party, open to one and all across both NA and EU servers!

An idea migrated over from Final Fantasy XIV, art parties are basically community get-togethers where artists of all kinds can hang out, chat, and create together! Digital, traditional, mixed-media, screenshots, poetry, prose - whatever your chosen medium, these sorts of events are for everyone, regardless of skill level! Dress your best, find a character that inspires you, and create! Afterwards, you can post your creations in the party’s specific tag (ours is #VSArtParty) so others can see and spread the love around via reblogs! As I’ve said every time I’ve written one of these up - the ‘goal’ of attending an art party is not to be drawn, but to draw others, and share with the community!

After last month’s NA party spilled out of the intended locale before it even started, this month’s location will be a nice open space most should be familiar with: the Crown Pavilion in Divinity’s Reach! Host to not one, not two, but (sort of) three in-game festivals, the main grounds under those graceful eagle wings offers ample room and excellent lighting for scoping out your next victim subject with ease! The squads for each party will open approximately 15 minutes before the start time and will, as usual, not be posted in LFG in order to deter party crashers (though we’ll be way easier to spot in this location so that may be a moot point haha).

Check under the cut for extra time info, location stuff, and /squadjoin info! ♥

Ah Divinity’s Reach, land of so many excellent locations that are all very very tiny and hard to swing a camera around in. I didn’t want to accidentally steal any RPers locations and also wanted a well-lit open area after the NA Grove party’s perpetual darkness, so the Crown Pavilion it is! If you somehow haven’t been to DR yet you can backtrack into it from the auto-unlocked Shaemoor Waypoint in Queensdale or take the asura gate from the Lion’s Arch Gate Hub Plaza! The whole map is a big circle, and the Crown Pavilion takes up the Westernmost section:

I am ecstatic to report that there’s a Jade Bot terminal located right smack in the middle of this place, so zooming around to get reference screenshots has never been easier (but when will they let us launch at will like in that one instance?)!

Now, on to the real nitty-gritty stuff:

Just as last month, this month’s party will consist of two separate art parties, each 3 hours long, with a 1 hour break in between to let people rest, grab snacks, swap accounts if they want to attend both, etc etc.

The first party will be on EU servers and begin at 9pm Central European Time (that’s 3pm Eastern Standard Time for NA). I’ll once again be hosting on my EU alt, so to join you’ll want to either whisper Ashelin Falstaff for an invite or type ‘/sqjoin ashelin falstaff’ in chat to auto-join.

The second party will be on NA servers and begin at 7pm Eastern Standard Time (that’s 1am Central European Time for EU). I’ll be on my main account for this one, so to join please either whisper Naveen Sen for an invite or type ‘/sqjoin naveen sen’ in chat for that sweet auto-join action. Should there be an overflow for the NA party like last month, I’ll either rope another [VS] guildmate into hosting an overflow squad, or start shooing people who are already in the right map out of the squad to allow others to taxi in - we’ll play it by ear should the need arise!

And that’s it! Expect to see me reblogging this a few times between now and go-time, and maybe even a few times once things are rolling if any weird overflow shenanigans happen. Thanks everyone for coming out and making last month’s party such a rousing success, I can’t wait to see you all there again for yet another fun time! ♥