#I just kept expecting him to be in the frame somewhere

[trentcrimmapologist]

so many moments happened after Ted left that i would never imagine him missing??

the fact that he left and never looked back, seemingly cutting ties with everyone, just doesn’t sit well with me??

[halfvalid]

through the night

ABOUT

| 18+ | smut | explicit |

characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader

pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader

word count: 4.2k

description: zoro comes to the reader's room during the night. sex ensues.

tags: smut, female reader, oral (receiving), fingering, vaginal sex, creampie, kissing (a lot of it), soft zoro, first time together, confessions (kinda), fluff, no use of "y/n", banter, pwp (lowkey).

author's note: consent is sexy and so is zoro

i have up to now only watched 2 episodes of OPLA and have never consumed any other type of one piece media. expect him to be ooc. also it's my first smut fic help

It was nighttime on the Going Merry, and the dull kiss of the setting horizon drifted lazily through the single window in your room. You were lying on your bed, leaning against the headboard as you flipped through a book you’d picked up the last time the ship had been docked. It wasn’t too interesting, but it was something to pass the time with, so you stifled a yawn and flipped to the next page.

There was a knock at your door, and you glanced up, watching as the shoddy metal hinges slowly creaked open. Zoro was standing in the doorway, his broad frame blocking out nearly all the light coming in from the hall. He was still dressed in his daywear, which reminded you that you needed to change—the loose shirt and trousers you wore were, although clean, nothing near sleepwear.

“Zoro?” you asked, watching as he started into the room. You clicked your tongue before he could step another foot inside, though— “If you’re going to come in, take your shoes off.”

Zoro scoffed but obeyed, pausing by the mouth of the room to slide his heavy boots off. He tread lightly to where you lay, climbing up to sit on the edge of the bed beside you. “What’s up?”

“Can’t sleep,” Zoro answered. You moved aside to allow him some more room, centering yourself on the bed. Zoro didn’t move, though.

You raised your eyebrows. “That’s possible?”

He looked unimpressed, propping his arms under his head and leaning back so his head was splayed against your thighs. His three matching earrings glinted in the light. “Luffy and Nami are being loud. Your room’s the farthest away.”

“Your elbow is digging into my gut,” you said, turning back towards your book. Zoro rolled his eyes, but readjusted his position, pulling his arms down to instead lay folded atop his stomach. “Are you just going to nap there?”

Zoro shrugged, and you had to stifle a giggle, the sensation vaguely ticklish. He’d never been a man of many words, so you lowered your book again and went back to reading. The light in the room was dim, though; after a few minutes, the glow from the light at your bedside no longer sufficed, and you were too tired to strain your eyes to squint at the page. You could, of course, just turn on the cabin lights—but Zoro was asleep by now, and you hadn’t even liked the book that much anyway.

You set it on your nightstand, gazing down at the slumbering man in your lap. Despite the glare he so often sported, Zoro looked near-angelic in his sleep, his face all smooth planes and straight lines. Those dark eyes of his were hidden like this, black lashes splayed across his cheeks as shadows emphasized the hollows of his bone structure.

He really was beautiful, an ever-comforting presence within the Straw Hats that your eyes had always strayed to. There was a certain kind of fondness you held for him that none of the other crew members could quite compare to, although if you voiced those thoughts Luffy would probably end up giving you a lighthearted scolding. You could already imagine the teasing from the other members of the crew—Usopp and Sanji particularly—making fun of your little crush, which is why you kept your lips firmly sealed. A secret was a secret, and this was yours to keep.

You finally tore your eyes away, focusing instead on getting out of the position you’d gotten stuck in. Somewhere in the back of your mind you liked the idea of Zoro sleeping in your lap, but the clothes you wore were getting increasingly uncomfortable. You carefully slipped out from under him, cradling his head so as to support him as you gently lowered him to the mattress. Thankfully, he didn’t rouse, and you slipped to the other side of the room to open up your wardrobe, satisfied knowing you weren’t disturbing him.

You made deft work, first brushing through your hair and rinsing your face with some clean water before focusing your attention on changing your clothes. You removed your trousers, instead donning a pair of shorts. You were halfway through peeling off your blouse to replace it with a softer, silk one, when Zoro coughed from behind you.

You froze, daring to glance behind you whilst still topless. Zoro had awoken, eyes having lost all trace of sleep as he slowly sat up, staring at your figure across the room. He coughed again as soon as your eyes met, dropping his gaze. “Sorry,” he said very carefully, voice hoarse and grating.

“No, it’s okay,” you managed out, but you were still frozen. Your thoughts were on the dark look that’d been in his eyes the split-second before he’d looked away—surprised but sharp, cutting like just his gaze could pierce through your soul. Gooseflesh had prickled up along your arms.

“I’ll just… go,” Zoro muttered, already having gotten up as he started shuffling towards the door. You jolted into action, nearly dropping the shirt still in your hands as you turned towards him.

“No, you can—” your words softened, seeing his gaze flicker rapidly around your figure before finally landing on some spot by your cheek. “You can stay.” You paused, hoping your words weren’t too direct. “If you want.”

“You should put your shirt on,” Zoro said, almost choking on his words, like they were too big to fit in his mouth.

Your gaze dropped down before a steady blush started climbing up the sides of your face. “Right,” you started, but it was like you’d lost control of your hands. The shirt still hung limply from your grip.

“Or you could…” Zoro paused, lips parted as he sucked in a soft breath. Carefully, he moved back towards your bed, the only sound in the room a soft thump as he sat back on it. “Not.”

You swallowed. You could barely feel the lax of grip as your fingers released the shirt, letting it fall to the floor in one pathetic heap. You took a tentative step towards Zoro, and then another, until you were right in front of him. The soft night breeze through the window caused chills to erupt down your spine. Or maybe that was Zoro’s expression—nearly studious in his attentivity, eyes grazing across your chest and torso like he was taking in information for a new, particularly high-paying bounty.

“Zoro,” you started. He finally glanced up at your face, and you shuddered, biting down hard on your tongue. “I, um—hi.”

“Hey,” he said carefully, like he was testing the word on his tongue. Your gaze flickered down to his lips. He seemed to notice, but he didn’t say anything; rather, he raised one of his hands, pressing it against your side until his fingers tightened against your waist, a present, ever-pulsing rush of warmth. “I think my chest is bigger than yours.”

You flushed, a quick rush of crimson gracing your cheeks as you turned away. Zoro’s grip on your waist tightened, and a low laugh escaped the bottom of his throat. “That was mean,” you whined. Zoro’s other hand came up to your face, fingers pressing against the underside of your chin. He carefully angled your face down, so you couldn’t look anywhere but straight at him.

“It worked to calm you down, though,” he said easily. You were about to protest against the fact that you had been calm in the first place, but then Zoro was kissing you.

Zoro was a lot less aggressive than you’d originally expected, but as you sunk deeper into the kiss, it started to make sense. Zoro was all clean lines when he fought, practiced and perfect—no space for sloppy lines or scribbles. The way he kissed was similar; he applied pressure, but not too much pressure, and his thumb traced firm circles into the skin of your waist.

He angled your head with the hand firmly propped against your jaw, so you didn’t have to do a lot of the work—just press against his lips and move against the gentle rhythm he’d set. His teeth scraped carefully against your lower lip, and he tugged, letting a soft gasp out from your throat.

Zoro took the opportunity to pry your lips apart with his tongue, the fingers splayed against your chin coaxing your jaw open until he could slide his tongue against yours. You let out a soft whimper, hands scrambling to his shoulders and running along the muscles of his back. Of course you’d known he was well-built, but the firmness of his body forced another squeak out of you—one he was more than willing to swallow up.

Eventually, Zoro’s hand dropped from your jaw, skimming along your body line before coming to rest on the underside of one of your breasts. You gasped as he started to massage the skin with his thumb, accidentally biting down on his lower lip in the process. He groaned, the sound low as his rhythm sped up, the hand cupping your waist dropping down to your hip.

And then he was hoisting you up and onto his lap. “Oh my God,” you muttered, causing him to break away, eyes glinting with amusement.

“What?”

A heady rush had blossomed along your cheeks again. “Nothing. You.” Somewhere in the back of your head, you wondered how strong Zoro had to be to lift you off the ground so easily with only one arm—granted, it hadn’t been that far of a lift, but still. “Kiss me again.”

Zoro laughed but obeyed, his hand still working at your breast as the other dropped to your thigh. Your fingers interlaced with his short hair, tangling within the moss-green locks as his tongue ran along the ivories of your teeth. His teeth scraped against your lip as he moved away, lips instead following the line of your jaw and moving down to your neck.

You dropped your arm from his hair, hand pressing flat against his upper back. Zoro’s muscles flexed as he chased down your throat, and you sighed as he pressed gentle kisses along the line of your vein.

“Been—wanting to do this for a while,” Zoro panted between kisses, placing a final one kiss at the junction of your collarbone before glancing tentatively back up at you. You met his mouth in another kiss, a smile you hadn’t felt rising bright along your cheekbones.

“Me too,” you whispered, and a look of relief flashed across his face before he was ducking his head again to press more kisses along your neck. You let out a laugh—you could feel the rumble of his lips against the sound as it left your throat. Carefully, you ran your finger along his earrings, soft clinks filling the room at the action. “What was that? Did you think I didn’t?”

“Dunno,” Zoro muttered, and you laughed again before he nipped at your skin, teeth scratching in a gentle bite. At your chest, his hand squeezed your nipple, and you gasped.

“That was mean.”

“Mhm.” Zoro didn’t seem appeased, his kisses turning sloppier—open-mouthed, full of bite. He never pressed down hard enough to hurt, but your mouth was full of soft gasps and whines, and your hand had come down to clench against his bicep. God, his arms. “I don’t hear you complaining.”

You nudged him, meaning only for it to be a slight press. But Zoro let the action guide him, falling onto his back with you pressed against him, flat against the bed. He stilled, both hands dropping to your hips as he gaze lifted to drink you in.

You were certain you were a mess—blushing, lips probably swollen, bruise blossoms that would purple by morning scattered all along your neck. But the way he looked at you made it seem like you were all dolled up—like you were outfitted in a flowing gown, eyes sparkling and hair perfect instead of the mess it most undoubtedly was.

“You’re pretty,” he murmured, almost too quiet to hear. Actually, you were certain you weren’t supposed to hear it, because before you could respond, he was pulling you across him, fluidly rolling you onto your back. His forearm pressed against the mattress beside your head, caging you in. Zoro seemed to like this angle, moving down your neck to your chest with more gentle kisses.

You were content to let him take what he wanted, eyes not moving from his face as you watched his lips brush over your breast. His tongue was hot against your skin, and you sucked in a tight breath as he swirled it along your nipple. Zoro steadied you with a firm grasp, hand pressing against your side before pushing up to attend to the breast that his mouth wasn’t. You squirmed, a soft pool of warmth sitting in your lower belly as he worked. A tight knot had formed somewhere inside, and you let out a breathy gasp.

Zoro’s gaze traced lower, hand leaving your breast in favor of skidding down your figure to rest at the hand of your shorts. He paused, eyes flickering upwards to meet yours. Hastily, you nodded, and his fingers dipped below the cloth, head lowering to press another kiss by your hip bone. Your hands clenched against the bed sheets as his fingers skimmed the rim of your shorts, coaxing them down inch by inch before they finally slid down to your knees. You kicked them off insistently, and Zoro laughed, one hand coming to stroke your thigh as if to make you stop moving.

Even though you’d partly expected it, you hadn’t been ready for the soft kiss he pressed against your inner thigh. His hand hooked around the side of your panties, dragging them down as he kissed up your skin, and you took in a sharp breath that he wholly and entirely ignored. His movements became more insistent as you squirmed, open-mouth and biting, tongue darting out from between his lips to languidly swipe up your thigh. Finally he reached the junction of your thigh and core, mouth pressing a feather-light kiss that dragged an entirely shameful sound out from your throat.

Zoro pushed your panties all the way off your hips, letting them sit by your knees even as you squirmed to kick them off. “Shh,” he murmured, and you stopped, heart pounding as the sound sunk deep into your bloodstream. The tight knot in your lower belly had only grown tighter, and your breath caught in your throat as you watched Zoro, his eyes flickering all around your exposed core.

He ran a finger along the side of your slit, and you shuddered, watching as he experimentally traced it across your folds. He lowered his head to your hips, pressing a kiss onto your clit. You were barely able to suppress the buck of your hips as Zoro’s hand came to rest on your thigh, pinning you down as his other hand worked along your core.

His finger found your vagina, carefully sinking between your folds as his tongue worked languid circles around your clit. You let out a moan, voice stuttering against your throat as his finger slipped deeper inside you. It only took him a few moments to push another one in, the soft scrape of his cut fingernails eliciting sparks that drew another breathy moan out of you.

“Isn’t it a little—unfair that I’m the only one not wearing anything?” you managed out between breaths, and Zoro stopped his motions, head lifting and eyes glancing up at you from under his lashes. One of his eyebrows arched in question, and his lips were glossy with your fluids, causing your core to squeeze around his fingers. Somehow, he didn’t even seem to notice the motion.

“Oh, that’s what you want to focus on right now?” he murmured, all low and throaty. He always spoke low-pitched, vocal chords all brash and grating from the back of his throat, but his voice hummed even deeper now, although that didn’t seem humanly possible. Your muscles clenched again, and Zoro’s gaze dipped down to where his fingers were still pushed inside of you. He fluidly pressed in deeper, fingers curling inside your body before pulling out and working back in. Your retort was lost as you moaned again, the tight feeling of your gut slowly unwinding as he moved back and forth inside of you.

His mouth lowered to lick at your clit again, and you cried out, barely suppressing a scream as his fingers dug, more insistent, inside of you. He pressed one final kiss against your clit, and then sat back, eyes fixed on working at your core instead. His fingers pumped in and out, steady and fluid. Your breaths came out breathy and broken, climbing closer and closer to your climax until he finally reached the summit inside of you.

“Come,” Zoro whispered, the hand not taking care of you running reassuringly along your thigh. You came suddenly, hips stuttering from where’d they’d lifted off the mattress, a cry ripping out of your throat. Zoro slowly slipped his fingers out of you, rubbing soothing circles into your inner thigh as you ran out your climax. Your breaths evened out, becoming less deep, less frantic; Zoro watched all the while, a glossy shine over his eyes and the faintest of smiles pressed along his lips.

You tilted your gaze down to his face, catching him just as he started to move again. The fingers drenched in your fluids came up to his mouth, and he licked them clean. Your stomach dropped, somehow already turning you on despite having come just mere seconds beforehand.

“My turn,” Zoro said softly, sitting up to start unbuttoning his shirt. You hoisted yourself up, hands skimming along the sheets beside him, uncertain of whether he wanted you to touch. You glimpsed a stiff tent in his pants as he sat up, and swallowed hard, eyeing the pull with apprehension.

“Do you want me to—” you tried gesturing down to his hips, but he caught your hand swiftly, pressing it against the buttons of his shirt. “What do you want?”

“Sex,” Zoro said. Nothing else. You held back the choke that dared to escape your throat, and a sheepish grin crossed his face. It was lopsided, nearly a smirk, if not for the genuine warmth glimmering at his eyes. “Sorry. That was vague.”

“It’s okay,” you assured, stifling a laugh. Your hands worked fastidiously at his buttons. It took far longer than you felt it should’ve, fingers all clumsy as you tugged them through their holes, unlooping them from where it fixed the cloth together. Soon enough, though, Zoro was stripping the last of the fabric off, tossing it carelessly across the room before pulling you into another kiss.

He was sloppier now that you’d come, more comfortable in his element—you could taste the tang of yourself on his lips, and you let out a sigh, hands moving down his figure to work at his belt. He had to stop kissing you to tug at his pants, pushing them down his legs before finally kicking them off fully.

You ducked your head to press a kiss at his navel, eyes tracing the length that jutted out from his hips. Your breath caught, gaze fixed to a pale vein running up the line of his length. “Up,” Zoro murmured, and you glanced up. Zoro pressed a long kiss to your mouth, one hand skimming around your butt to pull you up by the headboard. He ran a hand over your core, as if to ascertain you were relaxed enough for him.

“Do you have anything for it?” he murmured, lips sending chills down your back as he pressed a soft kiss at your jaw.

“I’m on the pill, yeah,” you huffed out, arms winding around his torso. Zoro hummed his response, fingers running up and down your thigh as he adjusted, hips sliding against yours to meet your core.

You sucked in a breath, but he was gentle with it, pushing in slowly, hand running along your lower back and coaxing you still. The sensation sparked tingles all over your body; up your spine, along your hips, down your legs like Zoro was electricity himself. You let out a little sigh as he pushed up to his hilt into you, hips stuttering against his as you both paused for breath. He brushed a ghost of a kiss along your lips. “Okay?” Zoro murmured.

“Perfect,” you answered, arms clutching tighter around him, fingers digging into his back. You hoped it wasn’t too sharp, but considering how big Zoro was, it was likely he barely felt the pressure—the crescents of your fingernails were probably just pinpricks to him.

Zoro started moving, then, his actions soft and fluid at first, fingers pressing reassuring circles into your waist and hips. He was nearly tender with it, motions languid and slow, like he had all the time in the world. Your breaths came out easy, soft and just barely edging towards gasps.

He started thrusting with more insistence soon, though; Zoro’s hips bucked against yours, and your grip tightened along his shoulder blades as he pushed in and out of you. Soft gasps and whines left your throat, in stark contrast to the heavy groans and grunts that barely stuttered past Zoro’s lips.

“Like that,” you said, barely able to let out words of encouragement as he hit your sweet spot, buried deep inside of you. You let out a throaty moan as he moved faster and faster, thrusts becoming harder and more aggressive. You knocked your head back, one of your hands reaching to grab Zoro’s from where it propped him up by your head. He welcomed the invitation quickly, fingers interlacing with yours, coaxing your palm open into a kiss of your hands. His thrusts worked harder than ever, and you stopped chasing the friction, letting your hips buck up against his as he shoved into you.

A low groan erupted from his throat as he hit your spot again, mouth coming down to bite into your shoulder as he suppressed the cry that tore from his mouth. You swallowed, gasping hard for breath as you felt him come inside you, your walls clenching tight around him before you also felt the familiar burst of pressure. You let out a gasping moan, mind buzzing with sparks and tingles. Vaguely, you felt Zoro’s hand against your hip, moving up and down in calming strokes.

It took a moment for you both to recover, coming down from the blissful high after long seconds ticked by. Zoro removed his mouth from your shoulder, carefully prying his jaw off from your skin. He scrutinized the marks he’d left—crescents of teeth, undoubtedly—before lowering his head again to press an apologetic kiss to the bite. You laughed in surprise.

“I can be a gentleman,” Zoro protested lightly, though his words didn’t hold much of a fight as he carefully slid out of you. He did it slowly, inch by inch, leaving a hollow sensation in his wake when he eventually parted from you. “You okay?”

“Lovely,” you answered honestly, eyes grazing up his chest before meeting his. “You?”

“I’m good,” Zoro answered, a vague smile on his lips. It was soft, tender; maybe not as big as ones you’d seen when he was laughing with the crew, but special nonetheless. He studied you for a moment, and you took the opportunity to trace his face with your eyes. His pupils were blown, slowly receding back into small dots of shadow, and his lips were kissed red, swollen over and glossy with your saliva. “Want me to draw a bath?”

“No,” you said, content just to watch him like this. “We can clean up in the morning, it’s getting late.” You hesitated, suddenly uncertain, teeth tugging at your lower lip. “Unless… you want to go?”

Zoro snorted. “No, I think I like it here,” he decided. He sat up, reaching to pull the blankets over your figure so the gooseflesh you hadn’t even noticed on your skin would subside. “Too tired to move, anyway. Might stay here forever.”

“Dramatic ass,” you mumbled, wrapping a hand around his wrist and tugging him closer to you. Zoro obeyed, sliding beside you, one arm moving to wrap around your waist. “Go to sleep, you big dummy.”

Zoro’s breath was light against the shell of your ear. “That was unwarranted.”

“Sleep,” you insisted, and Zoro huffed, reaching the arm that wasn’t around you to the nightstand. He flicked the lantern off, then turned back towards you, finally settling down. His lips pressed a soft kiss along your shoulder, and you smiled, your hand reaching down to meet where his was splayed along your belly.

“Good night,” you whispered.

“Night,” he mumbled back, the end of the word tapering off into a soft, tired breath. You could feel his chest move, up and down in a steady, soft rhythm. You buried your head into the crook of his arm, letting out a contented sigh before finally closing your eyes to drift off to sleep.

© halfvalid 2023

[yaespook]

Run 4 - In Progress.

✧ Room Content: Dom! GN! Reader x Yan! Sub! Android! Wanderer, no gendered terms used for reader, no actual penetration, unhealthy obsessive and possessive relationship from Wanderer, memory manipulation. Leave a note if anything was missed out. ✧ Retrieved Notes: If possible, use the InteractiveFics extension to change the phrase “My name” (without the quotation marks) to the name given to your Wanderer.

There’s an unfamiliar android sitting atop your worktable.

You must have picked him up two or three weeks ago, when he was still worse for wear. In your memory, he was in pretty bad shape when the two of you first met, his main panel wrenched open leaving his circuitry a mess and rough scrapes all over his superficial layer.

Now, with your constant repairs, he’s been more lively, tailing you around the house as you go about your day. While fussing about, dusting off a muzzle laying on a fur pelt, you sense a presence lingering outside your room.

"You know, I don't recall androids being quite so clingy." In return, you get a light huff from behind the door frame. 

"And you’ve come across other androids? I didn’t know you run a junkyard here,” the eye roll in his tone is audible.

His feet pad into the room and his gaze hones in on the clerical collar placed on a nearby shelf, glaring at it. Clicking his tongue, he crosses his hands on his chest.

“Whatever, what you do is mostly up to you anyway. Do you think you’re almost done cleaning? I think there’s an internal problem again, I’ll wait for you at the worktable,” the android saunters off nonchalantly, throwing you a light wave over his shoulder.

Sighing, you quickly finish up your task at hand before complying to his request, briskly making your way over to the worktable where he's already perched smugly on, his gaze expectant. 

You easily go through the rehearsed motions of plugging him up to your computer, your muscle memory kicking in as you boot up the required softwares before gingerly prying the main panel located on the front of his torso to gain access to his internal workings. Over time, you've gradually figured out the parts that make up the android sitting before you, growing used to the sight of the lengths of wiring and cables running throughout his body, the faint low mechanical whirring of motors and cooling systems. 

Most importantly, you now understand how sensitive his central core is. Nestled securely in a latched transparent casing, his core is what powers and sustains him. It emits a constant turquoise light and is also reflected in the glowing markings that lay beneath his synthetic skin that occasionally activate. (Although, you haven't quite gotten an answer for what makes them light up yet.) 

“So what's your problem today?” You ask, tearing your eyes away from him as you go over to your computer to check if any bugs have been identified.

“I think that cable all the way at the back came undone and got tangled with the rest.” 

You shoot him a pointed look, “Again? Didn’t we just fix that same cable last week?” Shifting your chair so you’re seated before him, poised to conduct your repairs, you make a passing remark, “Maybe taking you to another mechanic might be the better choice, get everything checked out, you know?”

How long have you kept at your task of finally fixing him up to tiptop condition? It’s almost daily when he reports back to you with a new disconnected wire or another loose joint somewhere on him. Diligently, you’ve been trying to repair him but the android is like a never-ending to-do list. And it’s only natural to be concerned if the constant damage stems from a more serious underlying issue that you haven’t managed to discover. The only next logical step would be to get another pair of eyes to help discern the root cause in case anything takes a turn for the worse.

But the reaction you get from him is one unexpected. His head snaps to face you, a scowl evident on his face. 

“So you’re handing me off like an unfinished project to someone else now?”

You know how snippy he can get however, this is on a different level from his previous behaviour. Maybe something left over from the days before you found him. It’ll be a good idea to look into his past logs to diagnose any present problems, you make a mental note of it.

“I’m just worried for you, that’s all. What if there’s an urgent issue I can’t fix alone? And we both know I can’t leave you as is.”

His expression mellows to an annoyed pout, looking away as his core glows faintly along with the patterns under his skin, he mumbles, “I’ll be fine.” (“I just need you.”) (“I'm the only one for you.”) (“No one else deserves you.”)

He allows you to work without another complaint, silently watching as your hands venture into his chest, a focused air to you while you look for the problematic cable. He senses your touch when you make contact with it, sucking in a sharp breath as you grip it between your fingers, twisting it around to free it from the surrounding wires before you finally connect and plug it into its rightful place. 

“That’s it for your cable issue. Anything else?” He quickly shakes his head.

Giving it a few light cursory pulls to make sure it’s finally secured, (if you weren’t mistaken, his core brightened in time with your tugs), you spare the rest of his parts one last look over. Then, shutting the panel, you unplug him from the computer.

Immediately, he scampers off the worktable with a clipped “thank you” and runs into his room. You hear the door to his room close before its lock clicks. 

The next few days prove to be better, the repair requests for any troubles that seem to have cropped up overnight growing more and more infrequent. Perhaps, bit by bit, the end of the repairs start to come into sight. 

Although, you have noted that his internal temperatures have been hiking recently whenever you have his chest panel open to patch him up. 

This time, you have him lying on the worktable on his back to access the further areas in him. He’s positioned facing upwards but his eyes are darting everywhere, unable to meet your gaze. Once again, the programme open on your computer screen shows how his temperatures are quickly rising even though there are no obvious reasons for such a sudden change. It records the recurrence into its troubleshooting log like before, more times than you can remember.

He’s panting lightly, the android’s chest moving up and down as your ears pick up the sound of his inner fans whir louder, his pre-programmed functions activating to try to cool him down. With no clue as to what could cause this issue, you reach in to look for a fault. Yet, the more you poke and prod around, the higher the warmth within him rises. 

Left with more questions than answers, you turn to his core for a closer look. When your fingers brush against the transparent casing, a moan slips out from him, and instantly his head whips to look at you dumbfounded.

An artificial blush takes over his face, a low pink glow blooming from beneath the synthetic layer. A beat passes before he cracks his lips apart, voicebox working as he pleads.

“...Again.”

Gently, you let your fingertips dance over the clasp hinging the casing shut and his response is instant. A shudder rolls through him, as real as it can be, and a shaky exhale leaves him. The android’s back arches up slightly, hastily chasing after your touch when you remove your hand.

Your caress returns when your hand dips deeper into his circuitry, where you hook two fingers underneath his thicker cables, attentively stroking them between your thumb and fingers, before tugging on them forcefully enough to elicit a reaction from him. 

His eyes fly open at your ministrations, a greed for more overtaking his processors. You’ve always been so gentle with him when he’s opened up for you, when you have access to the deepest parts of him, when he’s at his most vulnerable. So, to have you toy around with him, show him the indulgence of human flesh, can you really fault him for falling for you?

The tips of your fingers ghost along the length of his metal spine, and the android keens from under you.

“Please, more, I can take it!”

Taking his cue, your hand encircles his spine, grinding the heel of your palm against the ridges of the sensitive metal elements as you pump up and down. 

“Sss- so good! Hah…!” He can’t control how he behaves when you treat him so well, like he’s the only one worthy of your attention. He shakes under your touch, trembling as the addictive pleasure overrides his programmed commands.

“No more blubbering, just focus on me.” Your other hand goes to cup his chin, and obediently, he parts his lips for you, allowing you to slip your thumb into his mouth. You can feel his tongue work and when you press down, he jolts suddenly. A gag reflex? In an android? How amusing.

When you stop stroking him, he whines pitifully, muffled moans and begging for you to continue but his complaints stop when he feels you unlatch the lid of his core casing.

“Would you let me?” And the flurry of nods from him confirms his enthusiasm.

With bated breath, he counts the seconds before you make contact with his core. And when he senses your caress on his glowing core in his exposed chest cavity, he breathes out a gasp, as if he requires the intake of air. None of this is written into the basis of his behaviour, not fed into the dataset that makes up how he’s supposed to act, so everything he feels for you must be real.

His eyes go unfocused as his neural network is flooded with the raw pleasure of being enveloped with love and lust down to his literal core. Desire burns within him, evident from the fans whirring even louder than before to bring down his temperatures. It’s just so much for the android’s computations to handle. Broken moans leave him as he tries to vocalise his love for you (as best as he can with his thumb in your mouth). 

And when you press a kiss to his unprotected core, his vision whites out.

Eyes wrenched shut, his whole mechanical body jerks upwards, back arching off the worktable as his body propels himself to sit up, his limbs trying to ensnare you in his embrace, to keep you with him as long as he can. Every command in his system is overwritten to hone in on all the sensations of you on him, your touch, your warmth.

The patterns under his skin glow with a pulse, akin to a human’s heartbeat and when his eyes open again, glimmering faux tears roll down his face. His chest heaves as you close the distance between the two of you, cupping his face with both your hands and kissing his tears away.

The android breaks the intimate silence as he quietly asks you, “Can you give me a name?”

When you whisper a name into his ear, he breaks into sobs in your hands.

The days pass by, uneventful, and the time for a final cursory check before deeming him fully repaired comes. He’s poised on the worktable like any other previous session, a bored expression on his face as you flit back and forth between him and the software on your computer.

“You really are a clingy case,” you say and get a huff in return, “But a welcome one.”

Remembering your mental note from before about accessing his past logs, you access it from your computer, pulling up the window with his stored recorded data. The log operates in the background constantly, one of the built-in functions of the android and a quick glance over just to make sure everything is in order should do.

However, the logs prove to be worrying in a completely different way.

[Log: Day 10 - Run 1 - Failed. Werewolf. They’re with that mangy mutt. I don’t know what they see in him. I still remember the care they showed me. There’s always the next run.]

[Log: Day 20 - Run 2 - Failed. It seems I’m too late this time around. That vile selkie captured them first. How irritating. I need to stop hesitating. It’s my love on the line after all.]

[Log: Day 30 - Run 3 - Failed. Incubus. That damn priest and incubus. I can feel my temper reaching its breaking point.]

[Log: Day ??? - Run 4 - In progress. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please.]

Your eyes rake across a multitude of grainy snapshots of yourself, all with different people that you can’t find the ability to recall, your mind pounding from the discovery. 

He’s gazing expectantly when you look back up at him from the screen. A grin twists its way across his face, canines glinting under the dizzying harsh lighting.

“So now you’ve seen how much I love you, even if you don’t remember it.” There’s a sick obsession dripping in his tone, an uncanny level of emotion that androids normally shouldn’t be able to replicate, one that sends a heavy uneasiness through your whole being, one that roots you to the ground. 

When he doesn’t get the adoring reaction from you he expects, the proud expression on his face falls instantly. 

He’s despondent, despairing as he tears the connecting cables off of him, launching himself off the worktable, lunging across for you, frenzied, pure scorching mania surging through him. 

“You… even after all these runs. You’ve always given me the same thing. My name. I thought this time- You-” 

Voice shaky, “It’s a shame this run didn’t work out either.” 

He steels himself, hand outstretched, “No matter.”

You blink.

There’s an unfamiliar android sitting atop your worktable.

Thank you kindly for reading. Consider supporting on kofi if you enjoyed this or visit the other doors.

[aziraphale-is-a-cat]

DP X DC Dont Scratch the Ice

It wasn't October in Gotham if Manbat hadn't gone on a rampage, and Dick was currently chasing Kirk Langstrom through the densely populated Main Street in Gotham, so by God was it fucking October.

They'd mostly kept on rooftops so far and Dick honestly thought this chase was going to be relatively easy until suddenly, thanks to decades of poor infrastructure maintenance, the sky light the scientist-turned-bat was using as a launchpad fell through under his weight and left him falling downward into Gotham City's indoor Ice Rink.

Dropping down on the ice, Nightwing made the startling realization that he neither had the skill set to gracefully slide across the ice on his soft, noise proof shoes, nor the normal winter cleat accessories to remedy the issue.

Trying to both stand up and think of a way to properly fight/corral Manbat on the ice, he saw him cornering a large group of skaters. Thinking fast, Dick launched his grapple to hook on the frame of the plexiglass wall surrounding the Rink itself and used that momentum to nail the Manbat in the back of the head with his knee. "ICE to meet you, big guy! This fight would be a lot better off somewhere else, don't you Rink?" He quipped.

Manbat roared, the skaters screamed, and his jokes went criminally unappreciated.

Springing off the plexiglass barrier, Dick tried to think up his next move when he saw two skaters split off from the pack and lead Manbat to the center of the Rink. Rushing to try and separate the two suicidal civilians from the rabid bat-creature-thing nearly ready to tear them to shreds, he stopped short as a third came shooting down from the opposite end of the rink and making a spray stop right in front of the Manbat- but instead of the snow spray they were expecting a wall of ice came up from his skates and froze Dr. Langstrom into place.

"So is this the Batman everyone's been talking about? Because if so he's really gonna have to help us fill in these grooves."

One of the two who split off came circling back. "No this is Man Bat. Kinda like you, just uncontrollable rampaging bat form." She said, looking appreciatively at the wall of ice.

"More of a Jekyll/Hyde situation I think, or the Hulk." The second commented, slowly skating back to his friends, but as he was nearly there his skate caught on one of the deep scratches the Manbat had caused and he fell face first.

[miupow]

five kisses ⭑𓂃 c. beomgyu

𝄞𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ 𓈈⭒♬ ﾟ. choi beomgyu x gn!reader ✧˖° five types of kisses from the love of your life.

GENRE ── fluff

WARNINGS ── est. relationship, kisses, toothrotting fluff, silly cuddly boyfie gyu

WORDS ── 1.1k

A/N ── happy late comeback day!! it took me way longer to finish this than i wanted to cos i could not for the life of me find the motivation to write it TT but finally it’s here! it’s short but it’s my longest fluff work so far… hoping to write longer fluff works in the future

you’ve kissed choi beomgyu more times than you could ever hope to count. each one a single shining star that made up the constellations of your relationship, the galaxy that was your love; your days and nights were peppered with his kisses just as often as they were by his jokes and his banter, by his hand on your waist; they were something so beautifully interwoven into your everyday life that it was hard to keep track.

while you couldn’t remember every one, you would always remember their types– beomgyu gave you five different kisses out of all of the hundreds and thousands that you’ve shared.

absently to the back of your cradled hand when you weren’t paying attention.

beomgyu always insisted that he hold your hand on movie nights, no matter how far you may end up seated away from him– that night you had sat in front of him cross-legged on the floor, letting all of the boys take the couch while you rested your back against his legs, and even then did beomgyu kept your fingers laced together. he ignored your complaints about having to bend your arm up behind your back with an evil little smile.

“that can’t be comfortable.” soobin laughed, tearing his eyes away from the tv screen only to hand yeonjun a bag of chips. you can hear beomgyu’s quiet snicker somewhere above your head.

“it’s not!” you whined, failing to hide your smile behind a pout. “my arm is falling asleep!”

“we can switch places, if you want.” hueningkai added gently, squished between the armrest and soobin’s broad frame– unlike him, you would probably fit just fine, comfortably even.

but that was when you felt it; beomgyu lifted your intertwined hands to his face, the skin of your fingers tingling as his plush lips ghosted your knuckles, and as gently and ardently as he possibly could pressed a kiss to the back of your hand. you gave hueningkai a polite, sideways smile.

“actually, i think i’m just fine here.”

so passionate you can hardly breathe, hardly even think.

“i love you,” beomgyu whispered, exalted like a prayer; you’ve never heard him sound like that before. his big brown puppy-dog eyes take up your vision, blinking, swimming with overwhelming emotion, framed by pretty long eyelashes; they sparkled like the brightest of stars even in the dark. you opened your mouth to respond, surprised and euphoric, but his pouty bottom lip wobbling with nerves knocked any scattered thought from your head.

So you kissed him instead.

you were used to first kisses being awkward, uncoordinated, but beomgyu kissed you back like your lips were the only one’s he’d ever known; you gasped softly against his lips and he drank it in like ambrosia, tilted your face to deepen the kiss as he cupped your cheeks in his shaking hands. it was perfect, indescribable, gentler than you had expected beomgyu to be. not like fireworks or explosions, but simply his lips on yours, and a slow caressing warmth that left you unable to focus on anything other than his touch, his taste.

you hadn’t known what to do with your hands, and it didn’t come to you until you both pulled away for air that you had been digging your nails into his sweater-clad shoulders. he didn’t seem to mind much.

“i love you,” beomgyu repeated, his words dancing across your lips in his hot, panting breaths. “can we do that again?”

softly and sweetly and exchanged in dimly lit doorsteps, a goodbye, a promise.

he’s running late, but you can’t let go. not when you have him in your arms like this, pretty face illuminated by the streetlights as you kiss him goodbye. “stay?” you whispered against his lips, just short of begging. beomgyu chuckled and shook his head, the best he can with your arms wrapped around his neck.

“you know i can’t.”

“just for the night…” you argued half-heartedly, but you already knew you had lost. “they certainly won’t miss you for just one night.”

“baby…” beomgyu sighed, shushing you with his hands caressing down your back and his chin resting on the crown of your head. you begged like this every night, but it never got any easier for him to say no. “i have to go.”

“when will you be back?”

“so soon you won’t even have time to miss me.”

“but i already miss you.”

“ya, you’ll be fine.” beomgyu tutted, pressing a heartbreakingly gentle kiss to your forehead. his smile is infectious, even with your sour mood.

“one last kiss? please?” you pout, your fingers tangled in the hairs at the base of his neck. beomgyu’s eyes crinkle into sweet, shimmery half-moon cresents.

“of course.”

as a surprise, a sudden declaration of love and mischief.

you could never let your guard down around him— in a good way, of course.

you sat on the couch engrossed in your phone, mind consumed with endless scrolling; beomgyu had been caught up playing a video game on his console, headphones on and controller in hand as he cursed at the monitor, and you were simply trying to pass the time he came back to the land of the living. but then it was you who was the one disconnected from the real world, as you hadn’t even noticed that beomgyu had placed his controller down and had gotten up out of his seat.

there’s nothing your boyfriend hates more than being ignored, despite how much he loved to ignore you in favor for his games— you gasp when a hand comes around the back of the couch to snatch your phone out of your hands, and you turn your head sharply to admonish your attacker… just for beomgyu to land an obnoxious wet kiss to your lips, giggling and grinning like a cat that had gotten the cream.

“beomgyu!” you whined petulantly as your boyfriend continued to smatter kisses across your cheeks. “i was watching something!”

“don’t care.” beomgyu snickered, tossing your phone to the side. “i’m done with my game; pay attention to me!”

against your forehead when you fall asleep, a wish goodnight as he takes in your beauty.

you had gotten into the habit of pretending to be asleep when you weren’t, just so you could experience these moments. cuddled up tight in beomgyu’s warm embrace, your head cradled against his chest, his chest rising and falling in tandem with his heartbeat.

beomgyu’s hands smooth down your arms and back, grounding you and lulling you into the sweetest sense of calm; you’ve never felt safer than right there in his arms.

finally beomgyu does it, something he does every night when he’s certain you’ve nodded off; slowly and carefully he presses his lips to your forehead in a chaste kiss, rests there as you try your hardest not to smile. “goodnight baby,” he whispers, barely audible, his breath hot against your skin. “i love you.”

[moonlightazriel]

Steamy ///Azriel X F!Reader

Summary: The morning after solstice you find that Azriel is gone, but his family is more than happy to take you to him.

Warnings: SMUT

Word Count: 1,6K

Notes: I mean, it’s night somewhere so it’s Smutty Time!!! With a very long delay cuz I promised this back in 2023 heheheh

Main Masterlist

She grasped the sheets, head turning to the side, eyes opening just enough to peek why the hell the bed was empty and the sheets were cold. She fully opened her eyes, he had probably left a few hours ago, it was the morning after solstice, Rhysand wouldn’t send him on a mission so soon, right?

She got up, taking a hot shower to shake off the freezing sensation creeping up her body, wearing a pair of fluffy leggings, boots and a heavy coat, she made her way to the dinner room, where Feyre and Nesta happily chatted.

“Hello!” She greeted, still feeling a bit awkward, after all, she had been in their life for what? 7 months now? The bond had snapped for her and Azriel as soon as he went to the jewellery store she worked at, and they haven’t been apart since. She was still getting to know the family, so she quietly sat a few chairs away from them.

“Hey, good morning Y/N.” Feyre greeted her with a smile, her face was a little bit rounder and she shined with the second pregnancy. Nesta just nodded her head towards her.

“Do you guys know where Azriel is? He wasn’t in bed the morning.” She fidgeted with her fingers, her shy self feeling a little bit self conscious without his comforting presence, it didn’t help that the two females exchanged big grins before turning to her.

“We can take you to him, if you want to.” Nesta offered her blue eyes with devilish intentions.

“That would be very nice of you, thank you.” Y/N smiled, and the sisters finished their breakfast before Feyre was winnowing them.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

The winds were strong, the cold made her shiver to the bones, the snowy mountain was the last place she expected to be right now. She saw a cabin at the distance, and Feyre led the way there, with the two other females glued to her side in case she needed any help.

She saw two figures by the door, her heart increasing the heartbeat with excitement but as she got closer, Rhysand smiled at them and Cassian ran, scooping Nesta in his arms and flying away with her, like they were in a hurry.

“Azriel is in the back darling, enjoy your day.” Rhysand said with a smug look, pointing to the back of the cabin, before Y/N could thank him, he and Feyre were also gone.

She walked towards the back, cursing a little when she slipped in the snow. The wards, as she noticed, kept the wind away, and she was thankful for not having the extra force against her. It felt like forever, but she finally reached the back, a door with a tiny glass frame in the middle welcomed her, the glass was foggy and she couldn’t see anything inside.

She pushed the door open, steam coming out of it in waves, as she stepped inside, the heavy door closed, pushing her forward inside the room. It took one look around to find him. Sweat coated his body, and she followed a droplet that ran from his chin all the way down his chest and into his defined abdomen, she felt her mouth go dry as she saw it disappear between his legs, near to his long cock.

His legs were parted open and his arms held each side of the bench he was sitting in, wings relaxed behind his back and his head was resting back, the vein in his neck pulsing with blood as he swallowed. She finally managed to take her eyes off his body and found him, looking at her with only an eye open.

“What a beautiful surprise.” His raspy voice made her intern walls clench involuntarily.

“You were m-missing, they said they could take me to you and they left me alone h-ere.” She rambled and stammered, she tended to do it when she was nervous, and right now a wave of anxiety and anticipation moved around her body, leaving her on alert.

“But you’re not alone, are you?” He replied with a smirk, and her cheeks blushed even harder, not only from the heat of the room. “Come here, my beautiful, beautiful Y/N.”

She forced her legs to move, stopping in front of him. He sat straight now, one of his hands resting on his naked thigh, the other grabbed her from behind, squeezing her ass, he could feel her soft flash even with the thick fabric between them.

“Can I?” He asked, his voice making goosebumps on her skin, she nodded her head, and he pulled her leg up, removing the boots and the socks, repeating the same process in the other feet. “No one wears clothes in a steam room, love.” He spoke like he was scolding a child, right before pulling her leggings down, taking her panties with him in the process.

She felt the urge to cover herself, her hands moving in pure instinct but two strings of shadows pulled her wrists away. “No no no no. You’re so gorgeous, never hide yourself from me again.” He reprimanded her and she nodded furiously. “Good girl.” His raspy voice sounded so good right now, the heat in her core increased just with that.

Azriel’s cock was throbbing at this point, his mate and him, alone in that cabin? Oh, the things that crossed his mine were far away from pure, he wanted to take her in every surface possible, again and again until she was drunk from him and sore from his cock.

He held his cock in one hand, while she positioned herself with her legs on each side of his body, caging him between her aching core, she slowly sunk down, taking him inside inch by inch, until she was fully seated on his lap and his cock rested comfortably inside her warm walls. She made a move but he held her waist, forcing her to stop.

“We have all day, let’s just enjoy, shall we?” She nodded. “Use your words.” He instructed.

“Yes, Daddy.” The feeling of being full was enough to make her slippery walls clench around him, she tried to stop but to no avail.

While she sat there, taking him, he gently removed her coat, then her shirt, exposing her chest to his hungry gaze. Her breasts spilled from the red bralette. That piece was soon gone too and replaced by his lips. He carefully took her inside his mouth, licking and biting on the warm flash. She whimpered at the sensation, letting her head fall backwards as he mouthed at her breasts with no mercy, alternating between the two, until she was moving her hips without even noticing.

Azriel growled against her chest, as he felt her moving, but the feeling of having her delicious cunt around him was getting too much to bear, he was just glad that she was the first one to break. He grabbed her hair, turning her head to the side until he was biting her ear.

“You know I’ll have to punish you for that, don’t you love?” She was going to nod but instead, her shaky voice sounded in the room.

“Yes daddy, i'm sorry for misbehaving.” She stopped her movements completely.

“You can continue, we’ll think about that later.” He grabbed her hips with one hand, helping her move as the other pushed her chest against his hungry lips.

He felt her body shaking, and by the way her walls clenched around him, he knew she was close. Her orgasm hit her like a wave, making her moan loudly as the waves of pleasure clashed against her. Azriel was the one moving now, angling his hips up until he was hitting that damned spot inside her, his shadows moved against her clit and she felt a second orgasm growing closer.

Her sweat body easily sliding against his, they were panting and red, the sensation was too much to bear, her open lips spilled his name as she moaned.

“It’s too much Daddy, I can’t take it.” She cried and Azriel looked at her.

“It’s too much when I say it’s too much, now be a good girl and take what Daddy is giving you.” She nodded and for now he would accept that. She came with a cry of his name at the same time he spilled inside her. Hot stings of cum coating her insides. She collapsed on his chest, trying to recover her breath.

“Are you okay?” He asked, rubbing the sticky hair from her forehead before placing a kiss to it.

“Yes.” She quietly muttered, feeling tiredness consume her body.

“Don’t ever be afraid of using your safe word if it’s too much.” He reminded her and she nodded.

“I trust you, and I’ll always use it when things get too bad for me.” He kissed her delicately in the lips.

“Good girl, now let’s discuss your punishment.” He smirked and she felt the fire igniting again.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Two days later was when they got back. Appearing in the River House, where the rest of the sat for dinner, he took a seat, pulling his mate with him.

“It was cold in the mountains.” Feyre started.

“Hopefully you two found a way of getting warm.” Cassian sneered.

“With all the respect, fuck you two.” Azriel showed them his middle fingers, making them giggle. “I liked it better when Suriel was the biggest gossip in Prythian instead of the two of you.”

“You love us.” Cassian made a heart with his hands to which Azriel just rolled his eyes.

“You will get used to it.” He turned to his mate, she watched the exchange with a smile.

“Just wait until I’m confident enough, it will be the biggest gossip trio in all Prythian.” She giggled, having Cassian and Feyre joining her.

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Route 666 | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, j e a l o u s y, d e n i a l

Word Count: 4325

Series Rewrite Masterlist

After your conversation with Dean about why you couldn’t lose him, a nagging want was tugging on your heart. 

Dean explained to you that the father of an “old friend” of his was killed last night. Your stomach dropped; knowing exactly what “old friend” meant. 

Sam did, too. “By old friend you mean...?”

“A friend that's not new,” came Dean’s gruff response. His eyes never left the road.

“Oh yeah, thanks,” Sam deadpanned. “So her name's Cassie, huh? You never mentioned her.”

“Didn't I? Yeah, we went out.”

You felt like you could throw up.

“You mean you dated somebody? For more than one night?” Sam commented.

“Am I speaking a language you're not getting here? Dad and I were working a job in Ohio, she was finishing up college. We went out for a coupla weeks,” Dean explained.

Sam pressed further, but you silently begged him to stop. You hoped his mind powers would kick in long enough to read the way your heart was begging for mercy in the backseat. “And...?” 

Dean shrugged. 

“Look, it's terrible about her dad, but it kinda sounds like a standard car accident. I'm not seeing how it fits with what we do. Which by the way, how does she know what we do?”

Dean shifted uncomfortably.

‘He told her.’ You were definitely going to throw up now.

“You told her. You told her the secret! Our big family rule number one. We do what we do and we shut up about it. For a year and a half I do nothing but lie to Jessica, and you go out with this chick in Ohio a couple of times and you tell her everything? Dean!” Sam was getting angrier by the second.

“Yeah, looks like,” Dean grumbled. 

This job would undoubtedly be an incredibly painful one.

***

You saw a beautiful dark-skinned girl arguing with two older men in the newspaper office you and the boys had arrived at. You silently pleaded for it not to be Cassie. She was stunning; nothing but long legs and slender curves. Her dark hair curled tightly, framing her face beautifully. The girl sighed and turned around as the two men walked away from her. She seemed taken aback. “Dean.”

You recognized the fondness in her eyes; it was the same fondness you were beginning to look at Dean with. 

‘Of course, she’s fucking gorgeous. Wouldn’t expect anything else from Dean,’ you thought.

“Hey, Cassie,” Dean grinned. The two stared at each other for a moment before he cleared his throat. “This is my brother, Sam, and this is my friend, (Y/N).”

You tried your best to smile at her; the girl had done nothing wrong. It was Dean you were beginning to get upset with.

“Sorry ‘bout your dad,” Dean said.

“Yeah. Me too,” Cassie muttered.

The two kept staring at each other. 

You cleared your throat awkwardly, and Cassie seemed to snap out of it. “Sorry,” she laughed. “Let’s take this somewhere a bit more… private.”

***

Cassie took you back to her home and brought you a tray of tea and cups. “My mother’s in pretty bad shape. I've been staying with her. I wish she wouldn't go off by herself. She's been so nervous and frightened. She was worried about dad.”

“Why?” Dean asked.

She gracefully poured some tea into a cup. “He was scared. He was seeing things.”

“Like what?”

“He swore he saw an awful-looking black truck following him,” the young woman explained.

“A truck. Who was the driver?” Sam questioned.

Cassie handed cups of tea to each of you. You took one, thanking her as you did so. “He didn't talk about a driver,” she continued. “Just the truck. He said it would appear and disappear. And, in the accident, Dad's car was dented, like it had been slammed into by something big.”

“Now you're sure this dent wasn't there before?”

“He sold cars. Always drove a new one. There wasn't a scratch on that thing. It had rained hard that night. There was mud everywhere. There was a distinct set of muddy tracks leading from dad's car… leading right to the edge, where he went over.” The girl took a second to get her emotions back under control. “One set of tracks. His.”

“The first was a friend of your fathers?” Dean had discarded his cup on a side table. The sight almost made you smile; you knew tea was a bit too fancy for him. 

“Best friend. Clayton Soames. They owned the car dealership together. Same thing. Dent. No Tracks. And the cops said exactly what they said about dad. He 'lost control of his car.' “

“Can you think of any reason why your father and his partner might be targets?”

Cassie shook her head.

“And you think this vanishing truck ran them off the road?” Sam furrowed his eyebrows.

“When you say it aloud like that…” Cassie breathed deeply. “Listen, I'm a little skeptical about this… ghost stuff… or whatever it is you guys are into.”

Dean huffed. “Skeptical. If I remember, I think you said I was nuts.”

‘Uh, oh,’ you thought, beginning to feel uncomfortable.

“That was then.” Cassie and Dean stared at each other again. “I just know that I can't explain what happened up there. So I called you.”

A middle-aged woman entered the room. Cassie rushed to her. “Mom. Where have you been I was so…”

Cassie’s mom forced a smile. “I had no idea you’d invited friends over.”

“Mom, this is Dean, a… friend of mine from.... college. And his brother Sam and friend, (Y/N).”

“Well, I won't interrupt you.” Cassie’s mom went to leave the room.

“Mrs Robinson. We're sorry for your loss. We'd like to talk to you for a minute if you don't mind?” Dean stopped her.

The woman seemed slightly affronted. “I'm really not up for that right now.” She left the room, and Dean and Cassie continued to stare at each other.

***

The next day, Dean informed you of another killing that happened in a field beside the main road. Another one of Cassie’s father’s friends had been murdered. You met the beautiful woman who was bravely berating the mayor for not closing the main road; heavily suggesting there was a racist undertone behind the mayor’s motives. You admired the woman’s bravery, and wished you had those kinds of balls in certain situations. Had the circumstances been different, you probably would have been good friends with her.

You and the boys learned from a friend of the deceased that the town once was home to a family with an incredibly racist history. In fact, the big black truck the victims had described seeing was one that many black men disappeared in back in the 1960s. You and the boys walked away from the men you learned this information from and returned to the Impala.

“Truck,” Dean noted.

“Keeps coming up doesn't it?” Sam added.

“Yeah, kinda like the flying dutchman,” you continued.

“Yeah, that ghost ship, infused with the Captain's evil spirit. It was basically part of him,” the younger Winchester finished.

Dean nodded. “So what if we're dealing with the same thing? You know, a phantom truck, an extension of some bastard's ghost, re-enacting past crimes.”

“The victims have all been black men,” noted Sam.

“I think it's more than that. They all seem connected to Cassie and her family,” Dean suggested.

“Alright, well, you work that angle, go talk to her,” Sam said.

“Yeah, I will.”

Sam stopped his brother before he could get down into the car. “Oh, and you might also wanna mention that other thing.”

‘Stop talking, Sam,’ you mentally pleaded.

“What other thing?” Dean asked.

“The serious, unfinished business?”

The older brother remained silent, and for that, you were thankful.

“Dean, what is going on between you two?” Sam huffed out a laugh.

Dean seemed uncomfortable, as were you. “Alright, so maybe we were a little bit more involved than I said.”

“Really?” you said, unable to help yourself.

“Okay, a lot more. Maybe. And I told her our secret, about what we do. And I shouldn't have.”

“Ah, look man, everybody's gotta open up to someone sometime,” Sam shrugged.

“Yeah, I don't. It was stupid to get that close. I mean, look how it ended.”

The younger brother smiled. 

“Would you stop!”

Sam just kept staring and smiling.

“Blink or something!”

The brunet simply said, “You loved her.”

You nearly choked on your own spit as Dean grumbled and turned to the Impala.

“You were in love with her, but you dumped her.” Sam paused a moment before realizing, “Oh, wow. She dumped you.”

“Get in the car. Get in the car!” Dean ordered you and Sam.

You refused to continue to let Dean have that effect on you. There was no room for feelings in this profession, and you would not let them get in the way of your friendship with Dean or Sam. The former dropped you and his brother off at the motel before speeding away to Cassie’s house. You and Sam decided to get takeout and have a carpet picnic in the brothers’ motel room.

You chowed down on fried rice while Sam eyed you curiously. “What?” you asked through a mouthful of rice.

“Nothing. You just seem off,” he replied.

“I don’t know, honestly. After… everything that’s happened, I—” you couldn’t finish your sentence. “Nevermind. What’s your thoughts on this case?”

He gave you a bitchface at your change in the subject, but went along with it nonetheless. “I think our theory about the flying dutchman’s right. I’m just waiting for Dean to fill in the missing pieces.” He paused before continuing. “Speaking of which, I don’t think he’ll be back for the night? You wanna crash here?”

You smiled. “Sure. Wanna get some cheap tequila and ride the bus?” 

“You’re on,” he grinned back.

The two of you played with your deck of cards for a bit, joking and laughing about previous hunts and memories from Sam’s school days. After getting thoroughly hammered from your card game, you just talked for hours.

“My parents weren’t always… crazy supportive of me,” you explained. “I get your whole thing with college, though.” 

“You do?”

“Yeah,” you responded. “I wanted to go to school as a teenager, actually. Was dead set on it.”

He grinned. “Really?”

“Yeah, but after my parents passed, I decided I’m better at hunting,” you replied, flopping back on the ground. “You’re hella argumentative. You’d be an exceptional lawyer.”

He chuckled at you, slurring his words together. “You really think so?”

“Yeah! Duh!”

“You’re not ever this giddy, (Y/N), how much did we drink?”

The two of you looked over at the mostly empty bottle of tequila before exploding into a fit of giggles. 

“I don’t think I’ve been this drunk ever,” you slurred.

“Yeah, ne meither,” Sam said simply.

You burst out laughing again. “Ne meither?!”

“Oops,” he giggled boyishly.

“Wait, wait, wait. I have a question. You went to school with a full ride, right? How’d you get a full ride and hunt at the same time? That’s fucking crazy.”

He nodded. “Yeah. My dad took me on hunts every once in a while between AP Bio tests.”

“Holy shit, you’re smart.”

He sighed. “Not as smart as you’d think.”

“Cut the humble crap, you’re crazy smart,” you replied, turning to him. “You give me a run for my money sometimes. Trust me, that’s rare.”

He shrugged. “I guess you’re right.”

“Seriously, dude. You gotta be crazy gifted. You’re a great hunter and really smart. That’s a wild combination.”

“Yeah, well, so are you,” Sam replied. 

You grinned, barely holding your eyes open. “Thanks.” You paused a moment. “You ever smoked weed?”

He snorted. “Of course.”

You mock-gasped. “Sammy, never thought you were the type!”

“Pfft, I’m not a total prude, (Y/N).”

“Well, forgive me, you don’t exactly scream ‘I chase my tequila with mary jane,’ “ you jested.

“College, man. Whole new world.”

“What was it like?” you asked.

“Meh,” he squeaked, voice breaking drunkenly. “Lots of studying. Jess was the one who got me into partying a little.”

“Yeahhh, Jess!” you cheered. “She sounds cool as fuck.”

“She was.” He suddenly got sad and sniffed a little.

You crawled over to him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring bad shit up for you.”

He sniffed again and shrugged. “‘S okay, I jus’ miss her.”

“I know.” You laid your head on his shoulder and let him cry as the two of you sat next to each other in silence.

***

The next morning and thoroughly hungover, you and Sam headed to yet another field; where this time, the mayor’s car had been found. And it was in a different location than the main road. Dean met you a short time later once you’d finished talking to a cop on the scene. 

“Where were you last night? You didn't make it back to the hotel,” Sam questioned, although the subtle smirk on his face told you he already knew the answer.

“Well…”

Sam grinned smugly. “I'm guessing you guys worked things out?”

“We'll be working things out when we're ninety. So what happened?”

“We got really drunk,” you muttered.

“What?” Dean looked down at you. 

Sam shook his head. “Every bone crushed. Internal organ's turned to pudding. The cops are all stumped, it's like something ran him over.”

“Something like a truck?” Dean asked.

Sam nodded and explained there had been no tracks. He went on to say that the mayor had bought the property he was murdered on a few weeks ago; which was odd given he was white and found off the main road.

Cassie and Dean were considerably more chummy after their eventful evening, and it made your stomach turn a little. He insisted on being dropped off at the newspaper office Cassie worked at while you and Sam did research on the property the mayor had purchased at the library.

You discovered the mayor’s land was where the Dorian family had lived for over one hundred years. Apparently, their incredibly racist and firebrand son had disappeared just after the string of murders back in the 1960s. Cassie explained how the Dorians owned pretty much everything in the town before Cyrus, their son, disappeared. Weeks after the mayor bought the property, he knocked the house down. The very next day, the first killing started.

***

Amidst your throbbing headache and the research you'd done, you parted ways with the brothers to rest in your motel room. You settled on reorganizing your duffel bag to keep your mind occupied, but it still wandered to Dean and Cassie. You knew you'd been cold to Dean all day, and you just hoped he was too preoccupied with his fling to even notice.

Of course, that was simply wishful thinking. A knock on the door broke you out of your thoughts.

Dean opened the door a moment later and stepped into your room wordlessly. He began to pace a little.

"Are... you okay—?" you started to ask, but he cut you off.

"What's your deal?"

"What?" you pretended to be dumbfounded.

"I caught what you said about getting drunk with Sam last night. Did you... fuck my brother?" he asked, voice teetering on rageful.

"God, no, Winchester," you scoffed. "Not everyone's intentions are sexual 24/7. We literally just played a drinking game and talked."

"Then, what's with your fucking attitude? You've been a bitch to me all day," he replied, shoulders tense.

"Have not, first of all," you began. "Trust me, if I was upset with you, you'd know about it."

"What, then? Is this about Cassie?" he questioned pointedly, staring you down.

"Dean, has it occured to you that not everything has to do with you?" you spat, becoming incredibly defensive. "I'm pissy because I'm hungover. And right now, you are making my headache a thousand times worse."

"Sorry that I was concerned about you, then," he responded flippantly.

"You weren't concerned," you laughed coldly. "You came here looking for a fight. Well, now you've got one. I like Cassie a lot, actually. Different circumstances, we'd be good friends. What I don't like is how unprofessionally you're acting."

"We fucking hunt monsters for a living, (Y/N)," Dean argued. "There's not exactly a code of ethics."

"Well, you should have some desire to conduct yourself in a professional manner. Because your main motivation on every fucking hunt doesn't seem to be hunting, it seems to be getting your dick wet," you berated, even though you knew your words were not reflective of your true thoughts of him.

"Sorry that I'm not a stuck-up bitch like you are," Dean scoffed. "You are completely miserable to be around. You always have something to be angry about. Don't you ever get tired of sucking the life outta everyone?"

You cut your eyes at him harshly, rage boiling under your skin. "Get the fuck out of my room, Winchester," you said evenly.

When he didn't move, it just added to your anger.

"I said get the fuck out!"

***

You and the Winchesters were called to Cassie’s house later that evening when she’d called Dean in a panic about the truck appearing outside of her home. You hated the way Dean sat with his arm protectively around Cassie, especially after your incredibly awkward car ride to her house where he couldn't seem to bare looking at you. He acted like you weren't in the backseat at all.

You handed Cassie a cup of tea, which she took with shaky hands. “Maybe you could throw a couple of shots in that.”

You snorted. “You didn’t see who was driving the truck?”

“It seemed to be no one. Everything was moving so fast. And then it was just gone. Why didn't it kill us?” Cassie questioned.

“Whoever was controlling the truck wants you afraid first,” Dean grumbled. 

Sam turned to Cassie’s mother. “Mrs Robinson, Cassie said that your husband saw the truck before he died.”

The older woman was shaking, pulled away from reality into her own thoughts. When her daughter’s voice brought her back to earth, Mrs. Robinson began to explain. “Oh. Martin was under a lot of stress. You can't be sure about what he was seeing.”

“Well, after tonight I think we can be reasonably sure he was seeing a truck. What happened tonight, you and Cassie are marked. Okay? Your daughter could die.” You knew Dean cared about her, and selfishly, you wanted him to be that worried about you; not her. “So if you know something, now would be a really good time to tell us about it.”

Cassie went to silence Dean, but Mrs. Robinson took in a shaky breath. “Yes. Yes, he said he saw a truck.”

“Did he know who it belonged to?” you asked her.

“He thought he did,” she nodded. She began to get upset. “Cyrus. A man named Cyrus.”

“Cyrus Dorian?” you questioned.

“Cyrus Dorian died more than 40 years ago.”

Now, you had her. “The paper said he went missing, Mrs. Robinson. How do you know he died?”

She refused to answer.

“Mrs. Robinson, please,” you urged.

She began to talk again, getting visibly more upset. “We were all very young. I dated Cyrus a while; I was also seeing Martin. In secret of course. Interracial couples didn't go over too well back then. When I broke it off with Cyrus, and when he found out about Martin, I don't know, he… changed. His hatred. His hatred was frightening.”

“The murders,” Sam noted.

You saw tears forming at the edges of the woman’s eyes. “There were rumors. People of color disappearing into some kind of a truck. Nothing was ever done. Martin and a... Martin and I, we were gonna be, uh, married in that little church near here, but last minute we decided to elope as we didn't want the attention.”

“And Cyrus?” Dean prompted.

“The day we set for the wedding, was the day someone set fire to the church. There was a children's choir practicing in there. They all died.” Mrs. Robinson clapped a hand over her mouth and shut her eyes.

“Did the attacks stop after that?” Sam asked softly.

She shook her head as she continued to sob. “No! There was one more. One night, that truck came for Martin. Cyrus beat him something terrible. But Martin, you see, Martin got loose. And he started hitting Cyrus and he just kept hitting him and hitting him.”

“Why didn't you call the cops?” Dean questioned.

Mrs. Robinson looked at Dean like he was crazy. “This was forty years ago. He called on his friends, Clayton Soames and Jimmy Anderson, and they put Cyrus' body into the truck, and they rolled it into the swamp at the end of his land, and all three of them kept that secret all of these years.”

“And now all three are gone,” Sam said.

“And so is Mayor Todd. Now, he said that you of all people would know he is not a racist. Why would he say that?” Dean asked.

“He was a good man. He was a young deputy back then investigating Cyrus' disappearance. Once he figured out what Martin and the others had done he— he did nothing, because he also knew what Cyrus had done.”

Cassie spoke up for the first time in a while. “Why didn't you tell me?”

“I thought I was protecting them. And now there's no one left to protect.” She put her head down in her hands.

“Yes, there is,” Dean said, looking down at Cassie. Mrs. Robinson looked at her daughter as well before breaking down crying once more.

You and Sam left the home shortly after to get to work on finding the truck and disposing of it. Dean paced in front of you, waiting for Cassie to come bid you goodbye. You leaned against the Impala, picking at imaginary dirt under your nails. You just needed something to focus on that wasn’t Dean and your jealousy.

“Ah, my life was so simple. Just school, exams, papers on polycentric cultural norms,” Sam spoke up next to you.

“So I guess we saved you from a boring existence,” Dean smirked.

“Yeah, occasionally I miss boring,” he grinned down at you.

“So, this killer truck—” Dean began before getting cut off by his brother.

“I miss conversations that didn't start with 'this killer truck'.”

Dean laughed a little. “Well, this Cyrus guy. Evil on a level that infected even his truck. When he died, the swamp became his tomb, and his spirit was dormant for forty years.”

“So what woke it up?” Sam questioned.

“The construction on his house,” you shrugged. “Or, rather, destruction.”

“Right. Demolition or remodeling can awaken spirits, make them restless.”

Dean hummed. “And the guy that tore down the family homestead, Harold Todd, is the same guy that kept Cyrus' murder quiet and unsolved.”

“So now his spirit is awakened and out for blood,” Sam nodded.

“Yeah, I guess. Who knows what ghosts are thinking anyway.”

“You know we're going to have to dredge that body up from the swamp, right?"

Dean grinned, and you smirked despite the swirling emotions inside you. You hated how easily those green eyes and freckles could make any negative feelings you had dissipate.

“Man,” Sam groaned.

“You said it,” Dean continued to grin. 

Cassie approached your group from her house, and Dean turned to face her.

“Hey. She's asleep. Now what?” she asked Dean.

“Well, you should stay put and look after her, and we'll be back. Don't leave the house.” Dean held up a finger at her, standing way too close to her for your liking.

“Don't go getting all authoritative on me. I hate it,” she said seductively.

Dean glanced behind himself to you and Sam. You both averted your eyes while you held back the bile rising in your throat.

“Don't leave the house, please?” Dean mumbled. Suddenly, the two were kissing. You looked up at them and leaned over to Sam.

“It’s like watching a car crash,” you whispered. “With, like, kids burning in the backseat.”

Sam laughed at you and cleared his throat. Dean simply held up a finger back to you, urging you to “wait a minute.”

“You comin' or what?” Dean awkwardly rubbed his neck after he pulled away from Cassie, and you envied her ability to make Dean blush the way she had.

The drive to the Dorian property largely consisted of Sam teasing Dean about Cassie while you said nothing. Dean used a tractor that was on the property from the construction to pull the submerged truck out of the water.

Sam continued to tease Dean about how he was definitely still in love with Cassie while you continued to focus on your work. You doused the corpse in Cyrus’s truck once you’d gotten it on the ground with kerosene and watched as it burned.

“All business tonight, huh, (Y/N)?” Dean taunted, still clearly upset with you.

“You’ll have to forgive me, I’m not particularly interested in who or what you choose to put your dick in,” you responded coldly.

“Hey!—” 

You turned to him, eyes hard. “Seriously. Let’s focus, please.”

Sam eyed you curiously while you continued to watch the corpse burn. Suddenly, the truck appeared behind you and the brothers, revving its engine.

“So burning the body had no effect on that thing?” Sam questioned, panicked.

“I guess not,” you shrugged.

“Sure it did. Now it's really pissed,” Dean snarked.

“Great! He’s fused with the fucking truck,” you huffed. “Where are you going?” Dean was retreating to his car.

“Goin' for a little ride,” he responded.

“What?!”

“Gonna lead that thing away. That busted piece of crap: you gotta burn it.”

“How the fuck are we supposed to burn a truck, Dean?” you argued.

“I don't know. Figure something out.” He threw the duffel bag in the trunk at you before getting in and taking off.

“What the f—” you watched his retreating form.

“You sure you’re okay, (Y/N/N)?” Sam asked you. “You seem pretty on edge.”

“Yeah, I’m fine, dude, let’s focus.” You thought for a moment before getting an idea. 

“Hey, you gotta give me a minute,” Sam said to his brother who had called him. “Let me get back to you.” He hung up.

You turned to Sam. “The church where Cyrus butchered those kids.”

He grinned. “Hallowed ground. That should work!” He called Cassie and had her tell him where the church had once stood.

Sam then called his panicking brother back and instructed him on exactly how far to drive to hopefully demolish the ghost. “Dean. You still there? Dean?”

He breathed a sigh of relief when his brother spoke to him again. “Dean, you're where the church was. The place Cyrus burned down. Murdered all those kids. Church ground is hallowed ground; whether the church is still there or not. Evil spirits cross over hallowed ground, sometimes they're destroyed, so we figured, maybe that would get rid of it.”

Even though he wasn’t on speaker, you could hear Dean’s panic. “Maybe? Maybe! What if you were wrong?”

Sam smirked. “Huh. Honestly that thought hadn't occurred to me.”

***

You didn't make it back to the motel until almost two in the morning. Dean was still completely ignoring your existence, and he was beginning to follow Sam into their room. You stopped him just before he could.

"Dean, wait," you called out after him, resolve breaking.

"What," he almost growled, turning back to you.

"Can we talk?" you asked, eyes pleading.

Dean didn't say anything in response for a moment, and you held your breath while you waited for him to talk. Finally, he nodded slightly.

"I'm sorry," you said earnestly. "For everything that I said earlier."

He nodded. "I am, too. You're not completely misreable to be around. Only sometimes when you get bitchy." You could see the slight smirk on his face illuminated by the moonlight.

You rolled your eyes with a small smile. "You can never take anhthing seriously, huh?"

"Hey, this is a chick-flick-moment-free zone."

"Seriously," you laughed, "I didn't mean what I said at all. You're... actually amazing. As a hunter, I mean," you quickly corrected yourself. "I know your first priority on hunts isn't sex."

Dean rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Eh, you weren't one-hundred-percent wrong. Sorry about that."

You shrugged. "Makes no difference to me. Who or what you choose to fornicate with is your business. Even if it is the Magic Fingers machines at those nasty ass motels." A smile tugged on your lips.

He chuckled. "Well, anyway... goodnight, sweetheart." Dean turned on his heel and walked away from you, leaving you in the parking lot with a pounding heart and butterfly-filled stomach.

***

The next day, you and the brothers were leaving town. You and Sam waited in the car while Dean stood talking to Cassie. You, once again, couldn’t tear your eyes away from the horror show in front of you. He kissed her deeply before climbing down into the car. You had never been so thankful to leave a town in your rearview mirror.

The car had been mostly silent for the last thirty minutes before Sam broke it. “I like her.”

Dean grumbled, “Yeah,” in response.

“You meet someone like her, doesn't it makes you wonder if it's worth it? Putting everything else on hold, doing what we do?”

You watched Dean with bated breath, waiting anxiously for his answer. Instead of replying, he just took out his sunglasses and smiled. “Why don't you wake me up when it's my turn to drive?” He slouched against the window and sighed.

You shook your head and looked back out of your window, mulling over everything you’d felt during your time in Columbus. You knew feelings were not allowed in your line of work; certainly not relationships. You refused to let them interfere with your job any longer, and convinced yourself you would be perfectly content with Dean just being your friend.

After all, you'd already made it incredibly apparent that he was too much of a playboy for you. You would never be able to stomach a relationship with him because of how jealous of a person you were. And so, you decided that as long as you were with the boys, you would never, ever date Dean Winchester.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @davina-clairee @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @stephshaww @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @here-for-the-extravaganza @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @rei0812 @isla-finke-blog

quite a few tags are broken :( sorry lovebugs!!

[beansprean]

Some men will do anything except therapy

My Familiar’s Ghost part 53

Masterpost

New pages on Patreon!

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1a. Wide shot of vampire Guillermo and Nandor swordfighting with broken table rails on a red splattered background, the entire scene bathed in bright red light. Nandor pulls his sword up to hang right, blocking Guillermo's underhand swing, and shouts, 'You cared for me before London! I thought we finally wanted the same thing!' Guillermo just stares back, snarling. 1b. Repeat. Nandor is retreating in the frame, sword flipped over into an ox guard position to block an overhand strike from Guillermo. Nandor continues, 'Even after our year apart, I did not expect that to change!' 1c. Low shot behind Nandor as he makes a wide left handed slash, snapping, 'But it did! You did!' Guillermo flies upward to avoid the swing, one knee up, and raises his sword in a backhand position, ready to throw.

2a. Close shot of the floor as Guillermo's sword shoots in from above. Nandor dissolves into vapor, parting himself around the sword as it smashes tip-first into the ground where he had been standing. His vapor trail rolls off the panel and he keeps talking: 'You no longer cared for me the same way! I could tell!' 2b. Guillermo lands in a crouch on the ground, snatching up his sword and glancing around suspiciously for his opponent. Nandor's vapor trail winds around the back of the panel. 2c. Close up of Guillermo in profile as he brings his sword up to his face, inspecting the smashed tip and crack through the center of the wood. Nandor's voice comes from somewhere: 'You had your Freddie and your family...' 2d. Close up from behind Guillermo as he whips his head around, eyes glowing, sensing an attack incoming. Nandor's vapor flows behind the panel and begins to coalesce. 2e. Reverse shot from in front of Guillermo as Nandor reforms behind him in a puff of smoke, striking down one-handed with his sword as he furiously shouts '...and you kept me at arms length like a guilty secret!' Guillermo swings his sword over and around his left shoulder, blocking the swing, a loud crack ringing out as their swords slam together. /end ID

[roosterforme]

Right Girl, Wrong Time Part 4 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: You and Bradley know a level of comfort with each other that neither have felt with anyone else. When you finally make it to the alumni reunion, you run into some familiar faces, making it difficult to discuss your expectations. 

Warnings: Smut, fluff, swears, and angst

Length: 3800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (former fuckboy college student Bradley)

This is a sequel to accompany my story Old Habits Die Hard (you'll want to read that one first)!

Check my profile for my masterlist

Bradley took your hand as you led him up to a cute little cottage with a crumbling front step. He was so surprised when you gave him directions to get here in the car, leading him past his old fraternity house and your old apartment building. 

"This just looks like somewhere you'd live," he muttered as you unlocked the door and led him inside. He set his suitcase down and glanced around. 

"It's cute, but it's really small. I'll take you on a thirty second tour."

You weren't joking. After half a minute, Bradley had seen everything and he'd backed you up against your bedroom door frame. "What are you wearing tonight?" he asked, placing a gentle kiss on your chin. Bradley watched your eyes flutter closed as you reached for him.

"A pretty black dress," you whispered, pulling him closer to you by his belt loops. 

He leaned on one forearm above your head and nodded. "Sounds lovely. Can't wait to take it off you later."

You smiled and laughed softly. Then you got a faraway look in your eye. "Was it weird driving past the Beta house?" Bradley just shrugged, and then you said, "I hate walking past it when I go to campus to teach."

"Why, Sugar?" he asked.

You pressed your lips together and then ducked your head away from him. Bradley gave you a moment to process what you wanted to say, but every part of him really wanted to tell you he still felt the same way about you ten years later. He didn't want to hear you tell him that your heart ached when he was standing right in front of you now.

You swallowed hard. "Because that's where I broke up with you." Your voice sounded so small, and it took you a few more seconds to meet his eyes. You laughed, but it was a hollow sound. "You always called me a smart girl, but I just don't know."

Bradley kissed your lips. "You'll always be smarter than me." 

You pushed away from the wall and cleared your throat. "I'm going to get cleaned up and get changed," you whispered, glancing down at your cum streaked thighs. 

Bradley grinned and kissed you on the forehead. Then you pulled your dress off and started walking around naked, gathering some sweatpants and a sports bra and heading to the bathroom. 

He ended up collapsing on your couch to wait for you. He was debating coming clean about living in San Diego. More than anything, since last night, he had wanted you to choose him now. Maybe you didn't want to tie him down before, but he really liked the idea of being with you again now. You made sense to him in a way that nobody else ever had. And if there was even a chance he could make you his again, he wasn't going to want to give it a go with any other woman.

"Do you want a cup of tea?" Your voice made him both eternally comfortable and also slightly uneasy now. He just nodded and watched you get two mugs of tea ready in your tiny kitchen, wearing just your sports bra and baggy sweatpants. 

When you set the mugs down on the coffee table and dropped down on the couch next to him, you were instantly snuggling up against him. He wrapped his arm around you and let your lips graze his scarred neck. 

"Are you looking forward to seeing anyone tonight?" you asked, letting your hand settle on his leg. "I haven't really kept up with anyone."

Bradley smiled and laughed softly. "Sugar, I think I subconsciously came back here just in case you were going to be here." You buried your face against him and hummed. "But to answer your question, I wouldn't mind seeing Tyson. I talk to him occasionally."

"You do? That's nice. Always thought he was too good for Janessa."

Bradley snorted. "She cheated on him like a month after we graduated."

You rolled your eyes up at him and said, "I'm not surprised."

"He always liked you. Everyone was so shocked you were with me," he said, trailing his hand along your bare skin. "Me included."

You turned to face him, fullying climbing into his lap and sitting on his left thigh. Bradley welcomed you there, almost delighting in this pleasure you were bestowing upon him before the almost certain pain he would feel tomorrow and the day after and the day after, when he returned home alone. 

You pushed your fingers up into his hair and kissed his mustache and then his lips. The tip of your nose was pressing into his cheek as you sighed and whispered, "You were the best boyfriend I ever had."

This simple sentence was echoing around in his mind. How could that be possible? After so many years? But you'd done the impossible to him, too. And you were doing it again now, the way your fingers were soothing him and making his breathing and heart rate feel so calm and even. But you were exciting him at the same time. His eyes drifted closed as he held you against him.

"Sometimes, when I've been on an aircraft carrier for too long and I haven't slept in days, the only thing I can think about at night is you." He hadn't really meant to say that out loud, and he wasn't sure he actually had until he heard and felt your sharp intake of breath. 

When Bradley opened his eyes, an expression close to confusion was clouding your face, and he didn't think he had the strength to explain himself. So he cleared his throat. "What do you say, Sugar... want to see some pictures of the carriers and my Super Hornet?"

"Okay," you agreed softly, and he was immediately digging in his pocket for his phone. 

-----------------------

You were reeling a bit, sitting on Bradley's lap while he scrolled through his photo gallery in search of some photos to show you. He still currently thinks about you. He hadn't said those exact words, but you could tell. And you still thought about and missed him too. 

"Here's one on the USS Leyte Gulf," he said, and you were treated to a photo of him in front of his aircraft. He was wearing what he referred to as his flight suit and holding his red and yellow helmet in one hand. The F/A-18 behind him was absolutely enormous, and it was painted with Lt Bradley Bradshaw "Rooster" across the side.

"Wow, Lieutenant Beer Boy," you said, and he handed you his phone and told you to scroll through them. 

"That's just before I finally got to go home. God, I look exhausted," he said. "Oh, that's Bob. We shared a bunk that time. And that's Coyote." You scrolled and looked at the most beautiful photo of the sun setting over the water. 

Then he found you a picture of him in New Zealand and another of him in Hawaii. "You've seen the whole world," you whispered with a smile. "You did everything I hoped you would."

He just held you a little tighter. 

"Oh," you whispered. "Show me a picture of your uniform."

Bradley licked his lips and looked you in the eye. "If I show you a picture, you gonna promise to leave a wet spot on my uniform pants one day?"

You pressed your lips together and kind of rolled your eyes. "You told me not to be embarrassed about that. Both times."

"It's hot, Sugar," he whispered before looking through his photos. "Here you go. My khaki uniform."

You had to stifle a moan. "Wow. Those pants look very snug, Beer Boy." Bradley tipped his head back and laughed. "Don't you have other uniforms too? Like for special occasions?"

Bradley was still chuckling. "Yeah. And you're more than welcome to get those ones wet too."

You lightly smacked his chest and he responded by kissing you. "Show me what those ones look like."

"I don't think I have any pictures saved..... oh, hang on. There are some on Instagram."

You scoffed and said, "You don't even have an Instagram account."

Bradley tiled his chin up to look at you. "How do you know that?"

He looked amused, and you couldn't lie to him. "You don't have any social media accounts. I've checked," you said softly, tangling your fingers in the fabric of his shirt. 

"That's right. You're on Instagram though. But it's set to private," he said with a grin.

"You've looked?" you asked him, burying your face in his neck. 

"Of course. Been hoping one day you'd remove the privacy settings so I could see what you look like now. The answer to that is fucking gorgeous, by the way."

"Bradley," you whispered. Your cheeks were burning hot, and you just couldn't meet his eyes.

"Here's my uniform, Sugar," he whispered, and you repositioned yourself on his lap a bit.

"Holy shit," you gasped, looking at the photo of him wearing a head to toe white uniform, including a hat that would have looked silly on most people. 

"There's one in my dress blues as well," he murmured, scrolling down to another, equally sexy looking photo. But your eyes caught on a different photo.

"Who's that?" you asked, pointing to a photo of him wearing cutoff shorts and sunglasses at the beach. He had his arm around a petite, brunette woman in a bathing suit. She was so beautiful, you felt a little sick with jealousy. "She's pretty. Was that your girlfriend?"

Bradley started laughing so hard, you weren't sure what you'd said that could have been that funny. You crossed your arms and waited for him to take a breath.

"That's Nat," he said, squeezing you against him as he wiped a tear from his eye. "And I find her quite repulsive, actually. At least as a romantic prospect, Sugar."

"How? She's so lovely," you said, still looking at the photo of them together and pouting. "Is this her Instagram account?"

"Yeah," he answered with a grin. You scrolled along, noticing that photos of her with Bradley were pretty prominently featured. There was one of them eating a pile of hot wings. There was another one of them both in their flight suits. There was one of them laying on rafts in a pool. "She is pretty. But she's vomited on me more times than I can count. She eats all the food I buy and leaves the empty packages. And she makes up horrifying nicknames for me. Just like unspeakably awful riffs on my call sign. Her favorite one is Little Chicken Cock Boy."

Now you were smiling. "She sounds like a very good friend."

"She is," he confirmed. "And she thinks you're pretty."

Your eyes went wide. "My Instagram is private."

Bradley rolled his eyes. "So is the photo I have of us from when we were twenty one. That doesn't mean she didn't get me to show it to her and Bob when I was tipsy one night."

You gasped. "You showed them a picture?" What if he still had the dirty ones you snapped in the kitchen at his fraternity house? You really hoped he did.

"Mmhmm," Bradley said, blushing profusely but still looking at you. "Nat knows all about you. When I tell her I ran into you... she's going to flip out."

"She knows about me?" Your heart wasn't going to be able to handle much more of this. He told his best friend about you. 

"All about you," he confirmed.

"Even the study room?" you asked with a smirk.

"Come on, Sugar, some things are sacred." 

"Sacred?" you said with a laugh. "I don't know if you'd call what we did in there exactly holy..." 

"Always felt like a religious experience to me," he swore, crossing his heart with his index finger. "Today was no different."

His face was a little too serious, and you knew he wasn't joking. You rested your cheek on his shoulder again, tucking your forehead against his neck. You didn't say anything else, just listened to his even breathing and melted into his warm touch.

----------------------

You dozed off with your head resting on him, and Bradley let you sleep for a while. He felt so content, he could have taken a nap too, but he knew he needed to soak up all of this time with you while he could. So he stayed awake and enjoyed the sound of your soft breathing and the feel of your weight against him. 

But it was getting late now. The sun was getting low in the sky. Neither one of you had taken a single sip of the mugs of tea that you made, and Bradley was thirsty and starving. And he assumed you would need time to get changed for the class reunion. 

"Sugar," he whispered, and you started to stir when he ran his hand along the length of your arm until he was holding your hand. "Wake up, baby."

You arched your back and sighed, your lips grazing his neck. "Bradley," you moaned softly in your sleepy voice. His cock twitched from the sound of his name on your lips. 

Then you moaned a little louder as your lips connected with his in an unhurried kiss, and Bradley no longer cared if you and he got to the reunion on time, if at all. 

You slowly positioned your legs so you were straddling his thighs, never taking your lips away from his. Bradley's hands found your hips and then reached around to grab your ass, pulling you flush against his hardening cock. 

When you released his lips and gasped, he swore to you, "I will never recover from this weekend."

And then your mouth met his again while all of your fingers tangled a little roughly in his hair. You pulled him by his hair until his lips met your neck. "Maybe I don't want you to," you whispered, and Bradley treated you to his mustache on your soft skin. "Maybe I want you to keep on thinking about me like this."

He nipped at your neck and slowly pulled your sports bra over your head. Then he tilted his head down to taste both of your tattoos, running his lips and tongue along them. "I'm never gonna be able to stop," he growled, sucking on the song lyrics he had always associated with how much he had loved you.

He let you grind slowly against him through your clothing and his, your head tipped back while he gently kissed your breasts. When you started to reach for his shirt and pull it off, you whispered, "God you feel good." 

Bradley kept your motions slow with his hands on your hips, and after another minute you were practically panting. You suddenly scrambled off of his lap and started to yank off your sweatpants. And then you were standing between his splayed legs, looking down at him. You bit your lip and let your fingers drift down along the front of your body while Bradley unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans with a groan. He watched you teasing yourself, pretty manicured fingers dipping down into your own wetness and then teasing your clit.

"God damn it, Sugar." He was yanking his jeans and boxers down below his knees, and then you were climbing back onto his lap. "I wanna go slow," he told you as he guided you closer with his big hands on your body. You nodded for him, nudging yourself against his tip and hissing. You dragged yourself along his length, soaking him with your wetness and teasing your clit with him.

Bradley's mind was focused only on you. His body felt like it was on fire everywhere you touched him with your lips. And as you sank down around him, he could feel your teeth and tongue on his shoulder, then his neck, and then his mouth.

"Oh fuck," you gasped quietly, moving your hips slowly as you rode him. You were the best. You were still the best sex of his life. For a long time, he had thought that you were just magical in that way. But now that you connected with him again physically after so long, he was pretty sure it had more to do with everything he loved about you. "Beer Boy!" You were dragging your nails through his hair again, and he could feel the tension building in your body. He knew you were getting close, the slow, smooth movements of your hips becoming more erratic. 

"Cum all over me, Sugar," he whispered, leaning his head back to watch your face as he gently palmed your tits and teased his fingers along your tattoos. "I wanna see it."

He watched every emotion and expression on your face, enjoyed every squeeze of your pussy around his cock. Absorbed every small sound you made. Relished the way your nails were digging into his shoulders. And all the while you were whining his name at increasing volume. 

He wanted to tell you exactly how he felt about you, but doing so while he was buried deep inside you seemed like simultaneously the best and worst idea he had ever had. So instead he pressed his lips to yours while you came around him, and he thrust up into you a few times until he was filling you up again. 

You collapsed against him, hands tucked behind his neck and your lips at his ear. "I... oh... Bradley."

You sounded fucking stupid, and he wanted to make you this way all the time. 

---------------------------

"How do I look?" Bradley asked you, even though he'd just spent the last twenty minutes getting himself ready and getting dressed in his suit right in front of you. 

"Sexy," you told him, and he actually had the nerve to blush a little bit. You had just finished doing your hair and makeup, and now you were pulling your dress out of your tiny closet. "Why is tonight's theme black tie formal?" you asked. "As if I really had the money to spend on this damn dress."

But Bradley's eyes went wide as you draped it across your bed. "It was worth every fucking penny," he told you with a grin. "Want me to help you put it on?"

You nodded and took your sports bra off again, letting him have a minute to kiss and stroke your breasts and your tattoos while you giggled. "Okay, okay, Beer Boy. Help me with my dress!"

Bradley groaned and helped you slip it on and then zip up the back, and when you spun to face him, you already knew where his eyes would be. 

"Sugar," he whispered reverently. Your dress had cutouts on each side, and parts of your tattoos were visible. "You look perfect."

Silently, you handed Bradley your high heels and sat on the edge of your bed while he knelt and helped you put them on. As you watched his graceful fingers rub against your ankles, your heart clenched in your chest. 

"Are you flying out tomorrow?" 

He caressed the inside of your calf before looking up at you with a guarded expression. "Yeah. I have a flight at 8 in the morning." 

You were instantly fighting a nauseous feeling that was rising up inside you while Bradley placed a kiss to your knee where the slit of your dress had fallen open. You had barely twelve more hours with him before he would be leaving in his rental car to drive to the airport. It wasn't enough time. It wasn't fair. But you drew in a shaky breath and said, "Let's make the most of it?"

It sounded like a question even to your ears, but Bradley nodded and stood, pulling you to your feet and into his arms. 

-----------------------------

There was no way you'd be able to walk to the other end of campus in your heels. Bradley offered to carry you the whole way, but you rolled your eyes and insisted on calling a ride to take you both to the UVA conference center. As Bradley helped you out of the car, he wrapped his arm around you, tucking his fingers inside the fabric of your dress cutout and making you giggle as you both disappeared into the crowd of your former classmates entering the building. 

"What the fuck?" Bradley mumbled as you and he walked through the main lobby area. "None of this was updated when we were students."

You laughed. "Looks like they used our tuition money to make everything better after we graduated."

"Ridiculous," he whispered, kissing the top of your head. 

The main hall was set up with so many tables, and there were so many people filling the space, Bradley was surprised. But you took his hand in yours and led him toward a table that was only half filled and found two seats together. Bradley glanced around, desperately wanting to avoid small talk with these people and just spend the entire night basking in your presence. But he let you introduce yourself and him to the table before he pulled you toward the bar.

"Come on, Sugar. Let's go get the good beers."

You just rested your chin on his chest and looked up at him like you still couldn't quite believe this was all happening. As the short line for drinks moved, Bradley guided you backwards with his hands on your hips.

"Thanks for being my last minute date," he said with a smile as his fingers found your exposed tattoos again. Those song lyrics were for him; he knew that, but he also knew that you were still unattainable to him.

"Thanks for coming to Virginia and making this the best weekend I've had in a very long time," you replied softly, and the smile was immediately wiped away from Bradley's lips. There was still so much he wanted to say to you. Fuck, you kept hinting at things and beating around the bush, but he just wanted to know where he stood with you now. The fact that he knew how this was going to play out, how he just knew he'd handed you his heart on a platter a second time, was probably going to kill him. Once again.

You turned your head so your cheek was pressed against his shirt right below his bowtie, and he guided you backward another step.

"Sugar, I think we need to talk about me and you. I think we should-" 

But your body stiffened in his arms, and he felt goosebumps along your arms. 

"What's wrong?" he asked, but as soon as he followed your gaze across the room, he saw what had upset you.

Bradley's focus landed on not only Jeff, but also Phoebe, sitting at the same table. And Jeff's cool eyes had settled on you and Bradley, tangled up in each other's arms. 

--------------------------

Thanks for reading and loving these two! More of the class reunion and a very important conversation coming soon. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls.

PART 5

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[snoozepotato]

We’ll Be Fine -14- (Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x f!Reader)

Disclaimer: I do NOT own the original source material or any of its characters.

she/her pronouns + female anatomy

Category: slice of life, slow burn, mutual pining

Warnings: 18+, SMUT, swearing, eye contact, p-in-v sex, unprotected sex, over-stimulation, multi-orgasm, creampie, soft Ghost, anxiety, scars, tattoos, fluff

Masterlist

Summary: Ghost shows up at your room late at night, he just got back and has been gone longer than expected. You missed him a lot and things get out of hand (≖ᴗ≖)

Part 14

~UNDONE~

You’ve been trying your best to keep the negative thoughts at bay, it's not abnormal for missions to take longer than expected. But Ghost's vague estimate of a few weeks left you unsettled, even more so as time started to pass. A few weeks had turned into a few months, as life slogged by on base around you. Keeping yourself weighed down with busy work while your mind drifts.

Things take time, hell, you know that from experience. Even so, you’ve been worried about him, it's started affecting your already inconsistent sleep schedule. And dammit, you missed having tea with him in the morning!

You'd been brooding in your room since completing your work for the day, curled up in bed wearing Ghost’s hoodie. You're thankful he never asked for it back, in moments like these it was one of the only things that kept you grounded. Snuggling into the garment and taking a deep breath. It's been a while but somehow his scent still lingers in the fabric, or maybe it’s just some wishful thinking on your part.

Fuck, you're a wreck…

A sudden knocking on your door startles you from your position on the bed. Staring perplexed, why would someone be here this late? There's a sudden spark of fear that shoots through you, with the odd hour, what if it's bad news? You're frozen there for a moment, feet dangling off the edge of the mattress. Anxiety sitting cold in your gut as you just stare blankly through the darkness.

Until another knock erupts from the other side of the barrier, louder this time. You spring from the bed, the fear overtaken by curiosity. Whoever it is better have a good reason for waking you… Well, you technically weren't asleep, but you should be. You hastily unlock the door to peek your head out, only to be greeted by a broad chest.

There in your doorway, looking a little worse for wear is Ghost.

You're struck by the view of him standing there clad in that worn mask with the skull face plate. You've seen him wearing it on more than a few occasions, usually when he's on his way off base for work. It's rather intimidating, you're sure it serves its purpose out in the field. But if you're being completely honest, it's always left you feeling a little heated.

“You’re home,” dazed words escape you, feeling foolish at your choice of phrasing.

“Did I wake you?” He's grasping the door frame with a gloved hand, peering down at you with mild concern. Did he strip his gear off and immediately come looking for you? When did he even get back?

“No, I couldn't sleep… You can sit down,” you mutter, turning on the light and motioning him in. Taking one last glance out into the vacant hallway before closing the entry after him. Leaving you alone in the quiet of your room with Ghost, who's stripped off his jacket and taken a seat at your desk chair. Your frazzled mind is racing while you try to keep your rapidly slipping composure. The space grows quieter by the moment as he sits there staring at the ground between you.

“Everything ok?” You ask, but his mind is somewhere else, “Simon?” Stepping forward you stand in front of his seated form. The sound of his name coaxes his gaze up to meet yours, and fire erupts in his dark eyes.

“I’m fine,” he mutters.

“I was worried about you,” the words fumble from your lips as you take another step forward to stand between his widened legs.

“That why you're moping about your room… In my clothes?” He's smirking beneath the fabric of the mask, very obviously taking in your form before him. You can’t help but feel naked under his heavy gaze despite the oversized garment.

Observing wordlessly as he removes his gloves, and rests a now bare appendage at the hem of the sweatshirt. Your eyes are locked, as he searches for any sign of hesitation. Caressing the delicate skin of your thigh before trailing up to halt at the waistband of your shorts. Heartbeat hammering away in your chest as he dips a finger beneath the thin fabric. Dragging it down till the garment slips, pooling at your feet. A shaky breath escapes you as his lingering touch skims back up your leg to rest on your bare hip.

“Nothin' under those, you waiting up for me?” He murmurs darkly, eyes burning into yours.

“I missed you,” the words slip out as he lazily pulls you down to settle into his lap without resistance.

You reach out to caress the side of his face, thumb brushing over the rigid material of the weathered mask. He's watching you, curiously eyes meeting yours. Embarrassment creeps in as he catches your dreamy stare. Looking away with blushed cheeks and shifting restlessly.

“You seem to like this one,” he coaxes, tugging you further against him, putting an end to your weak attempt at retreat.

“I never said that,” you mutter defensively, caught off guard by his accusation, not that it wasn’t true…

“Don’t have to, I've caught you staring at me,” he pauses, “guess I never thought that was why.”

The dry words only further your embarrassment, as your head slumps against his shoulder to hide your feverish complexion.

Suddenly you’re hoisted upwards, choking down a shaky breath as the stiffness of him presses against you. Your legs braced around him as he makes his way over to your bed, lowering you onto the cot and caging you beneath him. As your body sinks into the thin mattress pad your mind is suddenly plagued with doubt, insecurity sparking in your chest.

“You're sure?… You were gone a while” you murmur awkwardly, propping yourself onto your elbows as you peer up at his looming figure.

“I’ve been waiting so patiently, love,” his words drip with desperate sincerity, that fire smoldering in his eyes as he descends upon you.

His hands work their way up your sides to snake beneath the material of the sweatshirt. Pulling the garment over your head and tossing it onto your desk chair. Your bare state would have felt unjust if his own shirt hadn't followed suit immediately after.

Leaving you laying there trying not to gawk, while nimble hands make quick work of his belt. Freeing the beast that's clearly trapped within the confines of his pants. To say the scale was daunting would be an understatement, but lying there beneath his toned figure, you were more than willing to accommodate.

“You ready for me?” He drawls, stroking his hard cock as he gazes down at your exposed form, like he's about to devour you.

“I’m all yours,” you coo as he brushes your entrance. Slowly teasing his head in and out of your already dripping slit, taking care to drag across your needy flesh till your thighs are twitching with building anticipation. A tightly coiled spring ready to burst, trembling and desperate for more.

The impatience quickly takes hold, hooking your knee over his hip to pull him deeper into you as he hisses out a curse. Consumed by the satisfying pleasure of being filled to the brim, his name uttered as a breathy sigh escaping your lips. Glazed eyes half-lidded as he admires your blissed expression, all for him.

“Fuck, you're tight” he rasps, the pressure building as your release begins to spill over. Gripping your knee, he pushes your leg up to split you open for his greedy length.

Gasping out in desperation, you arch to meet the friction of his rhythmic thrusts. Chasing that perfect angle, body tensing as you pulse with crackling pleasure. Riding out your orgasm all the while swimming in his murky gaze. The feeling of unraveling in his hands, fallen apart and at his mercy.

It's overwhelming.

Catching notice of your unrest, his pace slows as you try to catch your breath. But your eyes are downcast, suddenly afraid to meet his stare.

Icy doubt licking at your chest.

“Keep your eyes on me love,” hushed words murmured against your ear. You suck in a sharp breath, swallowing down a whimper as his heat leaves you. He grasps your chin with a firm hand, forcing you to meet his sharp gaze. Expecting to face the reaper, only to catch sight of his bare stumbled jaw. Your eyes lock for a long moment, the mask is gone. You're left gaping at him, eyes wide and startled.

“You alright?” His words are short, concern sparking in his stare.

You're so used to anonymity, it's easy to never see someone's face when you're sitting behind a computer all day. There was always that sliver of secrecy with Ghost until this moment, and it had always felt normal. Even so, it's still his eyes that draw you in, his trust in you is so blatant now. Every ounce of anonymity was stripped away, Simon caging you beneath him.

“I’m good,” you mutter through a sigh, leaning into his touch as his hold relaxes to caress your flushed face. His tense features unwinding at the view of you smiling up at him.

“Bend over for me love, I want to look at you, all of you,” he murmurs, your eyes held in his tender gaze.

Pulling you from your lying position, to bend you over the bed before him. Anxiety creeping in again as he admires your form from behind, feeling utterly vulnerable under his heavy gaze. But this heat washes over you, like he’s engulfed you in the fire smoldering in his eyes.

“Pretty little thing,” he breathes, running a hand down the length of your back, thumb tracing along the curve of your spine. He can feel the scars that lie beneath the white of your tattoo, a reminder of where you've been, how you got to him.

“Look how easy you’ve come undone for me,” he teases, an evident smirk in his tone.

Your back arches as he drags the head of his cock over your already sensitive flesh. Entering you again from your position bent over the bed. Your leg lowers to the floor to retain your balance as he presses deeply into your soaked folds. Simon letting out a low grumble of a moan as he thrusts to bury himself completely within you.

“Fuck, you're so wet,” he groans.

A strained wine escapes your lips at the friction, vision losing its focus momentarily. Craning your head to the side, catching his dark stare out of the corner of your sight.

“Your eyes… Do something to me,” you gasp breathlessly, your heated words gripping him as he continues relentlessly thrusting into you.

“Sensitive,” you sputter, bucking against him as the walls of your heat twitch with building pressure. Rough hands pulling you by the waist to meet his pounding length.

“Good,” he pants, “let go for me.”

Snaking a hand around you to rest the pad of his finger on your swollen clit. The action alone causes your hips to spasm involuntarily from overstimulation. Trembling wrists nearly give way as he circles the tender flesh.

Biting back a gasp as you're pushed over the edge again, your walls clenching around him as another orgasm rolls through you. His large hand cradles your breast, arching your back further as his thrusts grow frantic, cock pulsing as your heat spasm.

“Fuck,” he rasps, groaning as he jerks stiffly within you. Release spilling over, your body pressed against him, his breath hot in your ear. You shudder as his cock throbs, filling you with warmth, and you're unable to suppress the soft moan that escapes your lips.

His fingers curl into your side as he buries his face into your shoulder, thrusting sharply into you once more, completely drained.

You knew he'd eventually have to leave, but you couldn't help but drift off to sleep nestled against him. Simon's back to the door as he gazes down at you, keeping watch over your resting form.

The mask has returned when you wake sometime later, to a hand brushing the stray hair from your face. He murmurs something but you don't quite catch it through the haze of your slumber. In your foggy state, you completely miss him nabbing the mug off your desk before heading out the door.

The sound fully rips you from your stupor as you sit up in your cold bed, realizing you're once again alone in your room. You contemplate letting sleep take hold, but instead get up to re-clothe yourself in the sweatshirt he'd discarded on the chair. You feel kinda pathetic laying there sulking again in his absence, missing the furnace of a man in your bed...

But your thoughts are halted by a firm knocking on the door. Before you can second-guess yourself, you're already yanking the entry open. And there he is standing outside your door again, but now holding two cups of tea. Changed out of his dirty clothes from earlier, but still wearing that mask… 

What a fucking tease.

“Told you I'd right be back,” he states plainly, making his way back into the small space and taking a seat at your desk.

Watching amused as you settle back onto your bed. It's quiet as you sip your tea, mask left discarded on your pillow. His short-cropped hair lay disheveled, pressed against his head from the long hours of wear. Calling your name softly, he looks so tired but there's this levity in his eyes.

You might have made a lot of mistakes in life, but meeting Simon Riley wasn't one of them. Looking at you with that tender gaze, it felt like home. Somewhere to return after the horrors of the world take their toll, hands to guide each other through the darkness.

WELL then, I hope you enjoyed (′ꈍᴗꈍ‵)

Thank you so very much for reading, this is all I have planned for this section of their story. I've got a few related fics/oneshots mulling in my brain so be on the lookout for those and more art!

@tallrock35 @violet-19999 @hypernovaxx @k4marina @sebsbee @d4z01 @ramadiiiisme @embers-of-alluring @enfppixie

[xbadmuse]

Jealousy

This is Part I of the Jealous Simon Riley Story i wanted to post.

this is a nsfw story, like everything else on my blog.

this is about Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader

i did not proof read, please excuse any mistakes.

You were sipping on your drink as the cool breeze of the cold winter weather hit your face whenever the door to the pub opened. You could see from the window how the snow was slowly falling in thin watery flakes but as the time passes, the snowflakes turned into bigger flakes. Your drink was somewhat empty already as you looked back around, watching the team getting tipsier as time passes, if not completely drunk already. Your legs were cold, cursing yourself for only wearing thin thighs to your skirt and knee high boots.

It was now past midnight, the pub getting louder and louder and fuller as the door was being opened every few seconds. You just wanted to go home at this point. You really loved spending time with the team but right now.. you wish you could stuff your cold legs into a heater and wait for them to warm up again.

You looked over to Simon, who was sitting right next to you. If a person didn't know Simon personally, they would think that he was just a relaxed person, sitting in the booth, staying quite and absorbing the people around him as well as the location with his stoic attitude but right now, he was definitely very far from being relaxed.

The anger bubbling inside his body was radiating a very unnerving aura, cutting a knife through your calm vibe until it is drained out of blood. This is also one of the reasons you just want to leave this place, immediately.

You kept an eye on him, every once in a while looking up while pretending to look somewhere else. He was sitting very close to you, making sure that his frame covered half of you in the booth. Simon was gripping his drink, side eying you quickly and taking a sip, placing the glass back down on the table a little more aggressive then expected. He was fuming, deeply but Simon knew better and how to hide the fact that he could set this pub on fire, burning it out of aggressiveness just about now.

***

30 Minutes before.

"no, thank you", you clutched your bag to your chest, taking in the man that was standing tall right in front of you. he was wearing a smug grin, his white teeth brighter than the lights in the pub hallway and his weird looking beard which he was probably forcefully trying to grow but only reached from the left side until the right side of his upper lip as well as his chin, taking in your form with his eyes.

"look, I am really not trying to be a creep but I feel like we could fit. I think you are gorgeous and I am not bad myself, so?", his hand was grazing your arm and you instantly took a few steps back, looking at him confused.

"I have a boyfriend, please just leave", the man started to laugh, taking a few closer steps towards you and placing a hand on your shoulder. His hand then travelled down your arm again as he stared into your eyes intensly.

"stop lying and give me a chance love", he leaned in, his lips almost on your ears and with that you grabbed his arm and pushed him off of you with full force. he tumbled a few steps back as you stepped further into his direction, pushing him once again with all your strength as he stumbled and hitting his back against the wall behind him.

"you bitch", he hissed, instantly standing straight again. He stared at you and was about to walk towards you as you took just one step towards him. He mustered you, confusingly taking a step back and then walking away out of embarrassment.

The moment he turned around his body full on crashed into Simon, turning the corner and taking his stance in the middle of the hallway. Simon was wearing his balaclava as always and the way he stared down at the man in front of him would have even you running away in fear.

"s'cuse me", the man said as he hushed away from Simon instantly and disappeared into the crowded Pub. You were eying this small interaction, clutching you handbag to your body again and standing just inches away from the bathroom door. You hoped that Simon has not seen one glimpse of what happened just moments ago because if he did, that man would be fighting for his life right now and he would lose bitterly. That is why you kept your mouth shut.

Simon walked towards you, stomping his boots on the tiles on the ground as you were about to turn around and walk into the bathroom.

„who was that?”, he said after he instantly grabbed your wrist with his hand and held you before you could make another move and enter the bathroom. You turned around and faced him with a confused look, his eyes bored into yours as you rolled your eyes.

“who?..”, you tried to free yourself from his grip but he tightened it again. He was controlling himself to not get overwhelmed with the anger and frustration that was building inside him as he stared down at you. He knew something happened and he wanted to hear it..from you. You just stared up at him, heart beating faster.

“Simon, I don’t know..I just wanted to go pee and he followed me and told me my outfit looks good”, you still stared into his eyes. His grip loosened on your wrist and you knew he cocked one eyebrow even under his mask, an asking look on his face. He did not speak or was about to and you knew that he was getting frustrated by the minute.

“I told him to leave me alone and then he left”, you looked up at him, your eyes pleading him to let go of your wrist and to not ask any more questions and with that, Simon let go off your wrist.

“Go to toilet, I’ll wait here”, he said. From the way he said this you already knew that Simon was definitely not in the mood to have any more conversation with you. 'Well, that was the end of a fun night', you thought to yourself.

“Simon, you don’t nee-“, pleading eyes as you looked up. Simon was not looking at you anymore, staring up into the hallway.

“I said go, I will wait here”, his eyes instantly shot your way and with that you clutched your bag again and took a few steps away from him to leave into the ladies bathroom.

***

"Next round friends?", Gaz exclaimed loudly for you all to hear. The Pub was getting fuller and fuller the later it got. It was loud, almost unbearable. You looked over at Simon who was finishing up his drink.

He placed the glass back down on the table as the rest nodded and agreed. Even though you were now keen to stay a little longer to not be with Simon alone and enjoy the night you stopped thinking that way the moment Simon placed his hand on your thigh since you were about to ask for another drink.

"We are leaving", he spoke up in his monotone voice. The table exclaimed disappointed with his statement and Soap eyed him from the side. "Why? We just started", he said loudly over the table as he looked over to you as well.

Simon stood up and grabbed your jacket from the seat next to you as he looked down at you. His eyes were demanding rather then asking and normally this is not something that you would tolerate but giving the circumstances you did not want to upset Simon further. You stood up from your seat and smiled at Soap.

"I need to get up early tomorrow to pick up my mother from the airport." you lied, smiling convincingly as Simon helped you into your jacket. Soap nodded understandingly and so was everyone else as you all bid your goodbyes.

Simon opened the door to the pub for you as you waved to the table behind you. The cold night air hit your hot face and you sipped your jacket up. Simon walked past you, just two steps ahead of you as he stomped through the snow to his car which was parked just a two minute walk from the pub. He opened the door for you as you got inside, he did not say a single word to you as he started his car and drove off to your apartment.

You and Simon were not sharing an apartment but whenever Simon was back in the city he stayed in yours. His apartment was a fifteen minute drive from yours but he still liked spending as much time as possible with you or near you.

But right now you were not really sure if that is the case..

"Whats wrong?", you asked and turning on the seat heater for both you and Simon. He glanced at your hand and immediately turned the heater off again, but only for himself and kept yours on. Simon looked straight forward, not giving you one second of attention.

"Hello? I am talking to you", you turned to him, annoyed that he is not talking to you and ignoring you. He turns to you and then back to the road. It was very dark outside but you still knew your whereabouts. It was only a few more minutes until both of you were at your apartment.

"Who was that guy?", he said after a few silent minutes. You still could not believe he was still thinking about that and you rolled your eyes at that. Looking over to him, he was still staring ahead as he drove into a parking spot right before your apartment.

"Are you being serious right now?", you exclaimed as Simon parked the car and turned the engine off. His eyes shot back to yours, looking at your face and squinting his eyes a bit. He raised his eyebrows and watched you. You opened the door to the car and stepped out, walking over to your apartment.

He did the same, slamming his car door and walking behind you. You opened the front door, walked to the elevator as it immediately opened for both of you to walk inside.

"Are you seriously mad at me because of that guy?", the elevator door shut and you turned to him. He was leaning against the elevator wall as he looked down at you.

"Tell me who that man was and we can stop this discussion", he said calmly as the elevator door opened. You walked out and to your apartment, opening the door and the second you walked inside you slipped your shoes off with a loud huff.

"I don't know Simon.. I have already told you so", you could not tell him. You knew this will end in a blood bath and that is something you dearly try to avoid, even though that man deserved it a little.

"Are we lying to each other now?", you turned around and saw him standing at the door, his jacket was still on as he mustered you. Your eyebrows furrowed feeling ashamed of lying to him.

"Simon pleas-", Simon stepped closer to you, his hand grabbing your cheeks but not too harshly as he made you look up at him.

"Who. was. this. man. (Y/N)?", your heart was beating wildly as he stared down at you. You could see him being calm and breathing steadily as if you had a normal conversation with him while you were about to melt like pudding. You stayed quite.

"Are you going to tell me who this man was? I will kill him regardless. Just tell me who he was and why he was touching you and we can end this discussion (Y/N)", he stared into your eyes, glancing from eye to the other as he waited for your responds. But you just shook your head.

He grinned. "Why did he touch you?", he asked sternly again.

"He didn't", a light sigh escaped your mouth the moment Simons hand was placed on your hips.

"Stop lying, I saw it", he squeezed your hip and pushed you towards him closer.

'Shit', you thought. He titled his head to the side and stared down at you. A few seconds past and he dig his fingers further into your hips as they traveled up your body, slowly gliding his fingers to your back. You sighed and closed your eyes.

“Come on baby, tell me what he did”, his hand was sliding from your hip further to the hem of your leggings. His fingers solely gliding alongside your thigh as a sigh escaped you.

“He was trying to flirt with me and tried to get closer but I told him to get away from me and then he came back. He started touching my shoulder and coming closer until I pushed him away and kicked him.” You told him, staring up into his eyes. His grip on your hip loosened as his eyes never left yours.

“So he touched you?”, he mustered annoyed, still looking at your face as his hand left your face. His fingers came back up to your hips as you stared up at him, just nodding.

You could feel the range that was building inside him, the fire in his eyes almost burning you to the ground with his eye contact. You would be lying if you said you didn’t like the attitude he was giving you, the fact that he was dangerously fuming because a stranger touched you.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”, he raised his eyebrow and questioning you. Simon was still standing tall in front of you as he stared down. He never stopped the eye contact and continuing staring. Looking down at him you placed your hand on his chest, your thumb softly rubbed the thin fabric of his sweater.

“Look at me, I asked you a question (Y/N)”, his finger was under you chin lifting it up so you face him again. His eyes boring into yours.

“I didn’t want you to get mad.. i knew what you would have done”, you said calmly and blinked up at him. He hesitated but never stopped the eye contact. He was still fuming, you knew by the way his pupils were blown and his breathing started to get heavier.

“I’m still going to rip out his organs one by one”, a light shiver run down your spine by his words. His dangerous statement made you stop in your tracks and just watching his eyes.

“Why don’t you forget him and start taking care of me Simon?”, you were desperately trying to distract him. Your hand slowly gliding down his chest to his belt. You felt yourself feeling warmer the second his eyes fell to your lips. This handsome man in front of you would kill every human being for you.

He would do whatever you please and the thought of this alone made you feel dizzy. Simons pupils grew bigger and you could see a very small glint of a smile.

“Fucking hell.. do I turn you on baby?”

Part II

[honeybubblebeeeeee]

Toji is one to come and go as he pleases. He also expects you to wait for him. To not see anyone else.

He would leave for days, weeks, even months at a time. He wouldn't say a word. Just disappear. He wouldn't answer his phone.

Toji had already been gone two months. He didn't answer when you called or texted and of course no one else knew where he was either. You went out with your friends to a bar, your head was fuzzy, your body was warm, in the moment nothing really mattered aside from the music playing and the way your body moved to the beat.

Eventually you stumbled from the bar for your walk home. You weren't plastered, just happily buzzed. Heels clicked on the sidewalk as you walked, the cool breeze against your skin not covered by your short dress felt good.

Your ears perked at the heavy footsteps behind you. You huffed and kept walking. The footsteps didn't relent. You rolled your eyes and stopped walking, turning on your toes and looking up to face the culprit.

"Finally decided to come back did you?" Toji's tall muscular frame loomed over you.

"Seems you've been busy." His deep voice feathered over your skin.

You hummed your discontent and turned to keep walking. He grabbed you by the waist and pulled you flush against him. "Going somewhere darling? This is how you greet me after I’ve been gone?" You pushed at his chest, his sly smirk only enraging you more.

"Fuck off Toji." You squirmed out of his grip and made a move to run for it but he was faster. He picked you up like you weighed nothing and threw you over his shoulder. You thumped on his back. "Put me down!" He rewarded your demands with a slap on the ass.

You squealed and he chuckled low, it vibrated your body. "Have I been gone that long that you've already forgotten you're mine?" He continued walking towards an unknown destination.

"Yours? You never answer your fucking phone, you don't tell me where you’re going or what you’re doing” You huffed. “Or who you’re doing” you whispered under your breath.

He stopped dead, putting you down just enough that your feet scraped the concrete but not enough for you to get away. “What do you want hm?”

“For you to fuck off.” You glared at him, your arms trapped between you and him.

“We both know that’s never happening. So what do I have to do to get you to stop acting like a brat?” His nose brushed yours, scarred lips smirking at the way your face heated up.

You turned your head away from him. Toji continued to hold you barely off the ground with one arm while the other turned your head back towards him. “Look at me darlin’. You know I only want you. So again, what do I have to do to get you to stop acting like this every time I leave?” His eyes bore into yours almost putting you into a trance before you shook her head.

“Maybe I don’t know, not leave without telling me. Maybe, answer your phone. I know you have one.” Your tone was sarcastic as your rolled your eyes at him.

“How about I just pack you up and take you with me hm? Is that what you want? I’ll just never let you out of my sight again, how about that.” His voice was mostly sarcastic but there was a hint of truth underneath. He always wanted you around. He never saw anyone else in the months he was gone. Yeah he didn’t answer your calls or texts all the time and truthfully he didn’t have a good reason but that didn’t mean you weren’t on his mind. In truth he would probably get nothing done with you around all the time but he didn't necessarily hate the idea either.

Your face held a subtle pout at his words. Toji couldn’t help but run his thumb along your bottom lip. “Tell. me. what. you. want.” He accentuated the words dramatically.

What did you want? “Answering your phone and telling me when you leave will suffice.” You tried to turn away from him but he held you still.

Toji eyed you with the look of a predator watching prey. You were screwed and you knew it. "I don't think it will. You're coming with me from now on."

"Toji, I-" You got cut off as he slung you back over his shoulder and kept on walking. You screamed trying to stifle the laugh that threatened to rise from your throat and kicked your legs, trying to get out of his hold.

"The more you act like a brat the more I'm going to treat you like one." He ran his hands over the back of your thighs.

You huffed and stopped fighting him eventually. Finally on a street you were familiar with, because it was the one his house was on. He dropped you to your feet and let you go. While you adjusted your dress, he watched your every move. "I will consider coming with you."

He laughed. "Then I will consider not answering my phone."

Your eyes narrowed at him, as you went to stomp up to him he cupped your face with his large rough hands, whispering in your ear. "I did miss you and your fire. Not a moment went by that I hadn't thought of you. If you came with me I could show you all the ways I think about you all the time."

Your breath hitched in your throat. Toji pulled away, eyes burrowing into you. He let you go and walked a few steps past you. "So are you coming or not?" Raising a hand to you in offering.

You wanted to tell him no out of spite, for all the times he left and said nothing. For all the missed phone calls and ignored texts. However, he never did not show up when you needed him. Any time you had called or texted because you were having a bad day or someone had bothered you he had picked up and conveniently came back to you the next day. He had always insisted it was simply because he was done with whatever job he was doing but you knew better deep down. He did care in his own twisted way. Besides it wasn't like there was really anything holding you here. You would have shown up where he was multiple times if you had known where he'd gone.

You stepped up to him, his hand a breaths away. You hid your smirk as you smacked your hand into his. Toji wasted no time in pulling you into him and finishing the walk to his house with you under his arm. Kissing the top of your head, he whispered in your ear, "That's my girl."

(also send requests! i appreciate them they help smmmm with writers block <3)

[krahk]

Blood for Ruin

Part One : Part Two : Part Three : Part Four : Part Five : Part Six : Part Seven

Master list

Alastor x OFC/Reader V(No use of Y/N)

Part Eight

(Or, Alastor and reader have a serious, non-physical church appropriate conversation in the woods that results in no action whatsoever and this author is a liar)

Minors DNI, 18+ below

“-just like her lack of tits?” Well, what a sentence to get you back into a conversation. You clued into the group in the sitting room, the corner having had most of your attention since Alastor had joined. Waking up this morning alone wasn’t a real surprise, but there was a small part of you that was more than a little disappointed he didn’t stick around. Then again, if he did, what the hell would that situation have played out? So, as expected, you got out of bed, dressed yourself and joined everyone downstairs for the morning discussion.

Vaggie had tried to convince everyone that Charlie was alright, just ‘thinking’ upstairs, however it was no secret that with only a month to go, the hotel was fractured. You kept zoning in and out of all the talking, mind constantly drifting to the night prior. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Alastor fade rapidly into shadows and you cursed yourself for not paying attention to what caused him to leave in such a rush - and with such a maniacal look on his face to boot.

The imaginary pressure of awkwardness having left the room with Alastor, you finally joined in and said your piece about what was happening before the air felt sucked out of your chest. Something hurt - bad - and it caught you by surprise. There was a massive force building inside of you, and you managed to escape the room without any protest from the paranoid residents. You hauled yourself into the little library, the deceptive metal sign still up from Lucifer's visit, and you kneeled down on the ground while the pressure continued. Suddenly the room was growing in shadows, and you could see a bright green haze illuminate the space.

The light appeared to be coming from your hands, but the room's static that was increasing in spades had no known origin. Your head was filled with loud static and intense pressure, and somewhere in the background you heard Vaggie yell out ‘No!’ Before it sounded like a herd of elephants running upstairs. You had been lowered to all fours now, your head slack on your shoulders, hands and knees pressed into the ground. After what had felt like the fasted working Tylenol your body’s tense state lessened. What the actual fuck was that all about?

You took your time settling your nerves, a full body shiver taking over you. It felt like your skin wanted to crawl off of itself, like you stuck a fork in a light socket or you were an over changed battery. The pressure that was sticking around felt as if it were moving around your own soul. It felt like you were almost seasick without the nausea. It was a strange sensation overall. Outside of the library you could hear a string of angry Spanish, and Angel calling out your name. You opened the door and poked your head out, answering his call.

Vaggie had continued out the hotel's main door, slamming it behind her. You made eye contact with the tall demon and both of you were quite perplexed at whatever was happening. Angel shrugged, answering the silent question, “Charlie and Alastor left in a hurry and Vaggie is either tailing after them or doing her own thing - I dunno, my Spanish ain’t too impressive. I only know sexual words and curse words.”

You frowned, “Why did Charlie and Alastor leave? Did they say where they were going?” You leaned on the door frame to give Angel your full attention.

“Alastor n’Charlie made a deal, toots.” He said, almost grimly as his face cringed.

A deal? Was that always a bad thing? Come to think of it, you didn’t really know too much about demon deals, even though you had been here for a couple of months. Staying in the hotel was contributing to your naivety of Hell. You were still unsure how hell politics worked with Overlords, the ‘Royal’ family of Hell, and the other Lords like Sloth or Gluttony. Not to mention the mystical god-like beings that reigned in their own manner, generally staying away from the Pride district as Sinners were not able to leave this realm at all. You nodded at Angel’s statement, and made a mental note to read up on deals in hell. Some things still embarrassed you to have to ask. As the youngest person in the group in every sense you found yourself constantly asking questions that were very second nature to everyone else.

”Oof. I gotta…I gotta call Cherri or something. I’m gonna grab a bottle, sit my skinny ass in bed and hope I forget what’s coming…” Angel spun on his heel to walk towards the bar and waved at you without looking back. A soft goodbye left your lips as a habit, but the library door was closing behind you before you finished the 2-syllable word. You hustled over to a particular section that you had reorganised what felt like ages ago - Demonology…Sinners & You…What to Expect when Eternal Damnation sets in - Hmm. You hadn’t really looked too hard at the titles before but some of them were pretty ridiculous, even for hell.

“I need a book on Deals, what would that even be called?” You questioned no one in particular out loud. In your peripherals you noticed a bright green-yellow light pulsing from a shelf. Frowning, you approached it with slight hesitation, squinting through the light and noticed it was coming from a book. The book was named “Demons, Deals, and Divine Intervention : Getting the Most out of Your Soul Pacts.” - Okay, a little on the nose. Why did the book glow?

“Did you glow because I talked out loud?” Nothing. Then what…Maybe it was the way you structured the question? You threw out a couple of silly questions with no other lights appearing. Weird. This hotel was getting stranger by the day. “I need to know how you glowed, is this normal?” Another light appeared, highlighting a book in a stack that was still being worked through. You dug through the pile and read the title through the cracked and well read book as best as you could:

“Voodoo & You! A guide on Gris-gris, Summoning, and Souls.”

Hmmm. Interesting. You tried another question with the same lead - “I need a place to sit.” Scraping across the floor had you turned around to notice your preferred sofa chair moving towards you, seemingly pulled by large shadows. They wisped away once the chair was in place near you but you felt as if they might have been lingering around.

What. The fuck.

You stuttered for a second, concerned at the new development - “Wuh-what? Why is this happening?” The brightest glow yet appeared. This one came from a book that was rather large, and made you groan not only because of the lame title, but because your evening just became a complete write-off.

“An idiot's Guide to the Occult: A Phenomenon.”

Fuck.

No more questions, Idiot. You thought as you sat down and opened the first title.

Half a day and a pot of coffee later, you felt pretty well-read on ‘deals’. Charlie and Alastor were still not back from whatever quest they were, neither Angel nor Vaggie had come downstairs, and Husk was never a bit seeker for conversation so getting through the books took no time at all. Your only company were the shadows that took shape on the walls, smiles occasionally present. It reminded you of the first one you saw back in your motel room before you died.

Deals were made on a sinner soul. Hellborn, The Lords of the Rings, and the Goetia were not involved in selling or generally ‘buying’ souls. Souls were a form of currency, and Overlords were such because of the high quantity of souls acquired. The more deals one makes, the stronger they become. If a soul has a higher value, for instance if one Overlord gains another Overlord's soul the power is increased even more so. If one consumes a soul, the power is exponentially increased. Which from what you recalled, was what Alastor did. So it made sense to you why he was so powerful , because you had been told he did just that when he arrived in Hell.

The only thing you were having difficulty with was understanding where exactly you fit in with all this deal nonsense. Technically Alastor and yourself had made a deal about not speaking on your situation, but no further. But that did not involve a transfer in souls. He had mentioned that the two of you were akin to ‘soulmates’, as whatever awry magic you accidentally manipulated linking the two of you together. And if the soul link the two of you had did not have glowing objects and lingering, tangible shadows handing you things before today.

Could it be that whatever deal Alastor had made with Charlie had increased his power so much that there was a spillover onto you? You had been allowing the shadows to wrap around your legs and shoulders, occasionally playing with your hair. It wasn’t much of a bother, however it was more the fact you didn’t quite know how to get rid of them. Suddenly the door slammed open and Angel burst in, tossing something at you. you dropped your book on the floor and caught the item, a hammer.

“Jesus Angel! A hammer?” You exclaimed.

“Arm ya’self toots, we’re renovating.” He said with an enormous smile. A couple of Pentious’ egg boys had gathered around the tall man's legs chattering about reinforcement and boss’ plans, etc. They generally spoke nonsense as it was but this was more confusing than usual.

Unfortunately for you Angel didn’t give you much time to recover and grabbed you by an arm to drag you out into what could only be described as disorganised chaos. Windows were being boarded up, Pentious was strategically bracing the walls and furniture - honestly it was so chaotic it was hard to focus on a single thing.

Angel broke it down to you that Vaggie was on a mission to deal with Carmilla Carmine, some weapons overlord, Charlie and Alastor had gone to recruit sinners to defend the hotel and in that interim Angel had managed to gather the remain hotel tenants to build defences of the hotel so the others had something promising to return home to. And that was, in fact, how they found the group.

Trying their best against all odds, prepared to defend the only home they had.

____

Later in the evening, chewing on your cuticles as you stared at your bedroom door, you tried to work up the courage to deal with the knowledge you had and ask Alastor about the deal he had made with Charlie. Would it be worth telling him? the idea of telling him that with every deal he made was possibly pouring over into you scared you. Not just because of Alastors pride, but you had no idea how to handle the changes. Even now, with the simple addition of these strange shadows you couldn’t control them. Or the glowing aid that appeared when you asked a question the right way.

You had a lingering suspicion that you could also detect lies as well - earlier Pentious told you he had no feelings for Cherri and the static sensation that ran over your tongue caught you off guard. It happened again when his egg boys told a few known half truths. Everyone else had headed to their rooms before you could prove this theory but again - this was just another thing that had you on edge.

Deciding that if he found out later that you held information from him would be far scarier than just facing it head on, you decided to pay the demon a visit. Barefoot, you crossed over the hall and hovered for a moment before knocking softly on the door, shadows through the crack near the floor flickering at the sound. The door cracked open and your new shadow friends seemed to merge with the shadows that erupted from Alastors room. Still creaking open, you peered in through the open door. Expecting to see Alastor inside, but other than the crackling fireplace and the soft music coming from one of the many present radios, he wasn’t there.

Your eyes drifted over to the strange forest landscape, the bayou-like bog habitat seemed eerier than usual. There was a hazy mist present, and you could hear the ambient sounds from the shadows within the forest. Present but unseen.

“A-Alastor?” A chill had overcome you despite the fire roaring close by, and you shivered away the first feeling of being scared. Crossing the threshold lightly, you glanced all around, hoping to catch a glimpse of him somewhere. When you got about 4 steps in, the fire went out, enveloping you in darkness. The shadowy figures around you grew to the ceiling, eyes and mouths present and illuminated.

Scared stiff, you froze in place for a moment before taking a step back. One step and the door slammed shut. You could hear something new coming from the bayou, and it seemed like there was a growing glow from deep within it, pulsing like a heartbeat might. In the depths you could almost hear your name, softly making its way to your ears. Shadows licked at your arms and legs, causing you to shake slightly. You still walked backwards to the door, blindly grabbing for the handle when your back hit the wall. The handle wouldn’t turn and you made a noise of distress.

Suddenly, you heard laughter. Deep and dark, emanating from the trees. It was distorted from static and the creaking of branches and leaves crunching started to get closer and closer. Your eyes had adjusted to the dark slightly, and a figure was almost visible coming out of the tree line. Long, contorted limbs, a massively arched back, tentacles sprouting from it. A large, demented head sat upon a thin, stretched neck and in its massively large toothed mouth was a dead deer. Blood dripped from the lips of this creature, and the only reason you could tell that was the blood, like the eyes of the creature, glowed a steady red colour.

The beast was breathing heavily, and when the eyes locked on you, fainting seemed close by. Your breathing started to stutter, and your eyes welled up with tears. The demon beast dropped the deer, bright red saliva pooling out of its mouth onto the ground, and it began to approach you. The handle in your grip was still not turning, and your free hand began to lift as to prevent the beast from inching closer. A loud hum started to grow in your skull as the gap closed between you. You shut your eyes, a tear falling down your face to fall off your chin as you started to duck your head into your shoulder, hoping whatever was coming wouldn’t hurt.

Suddenly there was a hand on your chin, a thumb wiping away your tear. The hum had stopped, and the strange noise you heard from the forest had stopped. The only thing you could hear now was your beating heart. Your eyes flickered open, shooting over to catch eyes with Alastor. Dressed with a closed lip smile, his eyes were heavy lidded and softly glowing red. You stared in awe, confused, and Alastors thumb continued to rub the edge of your chin, using his fingers to move your head and face him more head on. Thumb grazing your lips, he used it to pull your bottom lip down, cold air drying out the small amount of naked gums. You instinctively tried to lick away the dry sensation and your tongue nicked the edge of his finger, causing him to grip your chin harder.

You attempted to utter his name, but as you started he pressed your lips closed with his thumb as he hummed a sound to keep you silent. His hand freed your chin, and he turned his hand to graze your cheek with his knuckles, and you leaned into his hand when he reached the side of your eyes, and your eyelids fluttered closed, and you made a soft sound of approval. He wasn’t usually gentle, or fond of touching, so the way he was behaving now made your bones melt. You had stopped shaking from fear, but your body still had a massive chill as you started to feel a familiar burn in your stomach.

Suddenly a soft kiss was placed upon your lips, and for a few moments you were unsure of what to do - your eyes had remained closed. Alastor bit your bottom lip in encouragement and you met him with a similar voracity. Very quickly it was if the two of you were trying to consume one another. His hands had drifted to your waist, yours to his jacket, pulling him in close. He was pulling you in return, lifting you up against the wall to have your face closer to his own.

As he lifted you slightly, you wrapped your legs around his waist, the two of you almost trying to become one person with the force you were placing on one another. The sucking sounds of hot, wet mouths meeting and periodic gasps for air had both of your blood burning. He started to roll slightly against your core, and you moaned in return, breaking the kiss and hitting your head against the wall. He started kissing your neck, sucking and biting his way around as he ground against you, eliciting more cries of pleasure from you. Your hands were in his hair now, and your nails raked against the part of his ear that met his scalp, resulting in a moaning growl from the demon, who responded with a bite to your shoulder that had you groaning his name and jerking your hips in tandem with his.

You could feel him smile against your neck, and he pulled back suddenly, causing you to look at him. A thin line of saliva connected the two of you together, and the lustful gaze he was giving you shot an electric sensation down your body. He pulled you away from the wall and spun your bodies around, lips back on yours as he walked with frantic purpose. When he finally stopped he started to bend down, and your ass made connection with the ground as he laid the two of you down onto the grassy marshland that was in his bedroom.

Crickets could be heard again, and the air was no longer chilly, the mist wrapping around the both of you and blanketing you in a subtle warmth. Your legs unravelled around Alastor, your feet coming to either side of him as your knees were bent, enveloping him in your person. His arms were bent at the elbow, and he rested on them as a hand played with one of your ears and the other had a knuckle rubbing your chin, nearly overstimulating you with contact.

At some moment, he raised up and was kneeling in between your legs, having made his jacket disappear in a flash of black shadows, and he was reaching for your top, grabbing the bottom hem of it and dragging it up until you raised yourself up slightly to allow him to pull it off of you. His eyes feasted on your body, your breasts still hiding behind your bra. His thin smile stretched further up his face as a finger went from your navel to your bra, and before you could utter a complaint about him using his claws to sever the middle of your bra, breaking it, his lips were back on yours working in tandem with the hand that was now firmly gripping a naked breast. You moaned in his mouth and he took advantage of your opening, his tongue fiercely fighting against yours.

At this point your pleasure had built so intensely you could nearly feel your eyes build with tears, desperate for more. His hands alternated to either breast, making sure to spread the sensation out evenly, pinching a nipple to have it pebble between his fingers as his tongue dominated your own. Somewhere along the line you attempted to unbutton his shirt, but getting caught up on his bow tie almost immediately. You broke your kiss to utter a firm, “Off.” As you pulled at the fabric around his neck. He chuckled darkly, as he replied with a crisp “Yes dear”, chuckling at your immediate frown at his terrible pun.

He swiftly removed the offending article, and unbuttoned his top two buttons of his shirt before moving his hands out of the way when you started to reach up to finish the job. Lips united once more, he was soon shrugging out of his shirt as your hands went from his shoulders to his waist and back up again. Revelling in the sensation you got from his skin, which was slightly furred - just barely, he gave a stuttered groan as you raked your nails down his back at the sides of his ribs.

His teeth grazed from your neck to your shoulder as the both of you roamed hands freely over one another, revelling in the sensations the two of you were giving one another. Your hands drifted to his belt, and he froze for a moment, mouth hesitating above your collarbone, and a quick glance had you notice the slight tension in his face. He rested his forehead on you, controlling his breathing, and he raised himself up on his hinds to take over where your hands had started. You pulled back, letting him gather control over the situation and he pulled his belt out from their loops, casting it aside. He popped the button off his trousers, and like true 30s fashion, they were without a zipper - simply built with a wide waistline to accommodate wear.

Trousers loose, he directed his hands to your own pyjama bottoms, and fingered the top of them gently. Your hips raised, and the pair of you worked to shimmy them off, you folding your knees to your chest quickly to pull them off your legs before putting them back on either side of him. Clad only in a modest pair of black underwear, Alastor visibly fed on your form, the hunger in his eyes unlike anything you had seen from him before. Arms coming up to cover your breasts from shyness, he dipped down to interrupt your action with a kiss to your sternum that lingered. The hum he gave rumbled on your chest and you released a soft sigh at the tender action. His hands swept over your body, as if memorising it by touch. You yanked at his waistband of his pants and grumbled something about it being unfair he was more clothed, and he responded by gracefully removing his pants and whatever undergarments he was wearing with minor lack of contact between the two of you.

Looking down it was clear he was painfully hard, the throbbing in your head and blood understanding the cause. His tip was glossy with pre-cum, and as he rested above you again, with his hands coming to rest on the ground on either side of your shoulders, the hard length ran against the inner section of your thigh, making you gasp in response. A snarky grin flashed upon his face, barely visible with the lurking soft light as if moonlight was kissing the two of you.

His eyes were bright red at the iris, his pupils blown out. One hand drifted back to your panties, finger folding in between the skin and hemline, and you silently consented with a nod, raising yourself onto your elbows to meet his lips in a chaste kiss. He responded by tearing off the underwear in a swift pull, the tension causing a moment of pain that was replaced with the ferocity of his desire in a kiss.

Pain forgotten, the two of you again attempted to devour one another, the push and pull sensations that the two of you had been resisting for the better part of a month coming to an impasse. His knee moved your own over, and he grabbed your other leg to hoist up and put on his shoulder. Now he was in the prime position to enter you without interference. His tip settled outside your wet cunt and prodded slightly, earning another moan from you. He hissed at the sensation, and your eyes connected again, nearly pleading for permission. You nodded again, but he softly responded -

“Out loud, chère.” Filter free and French had you sighing a soft “Yes,” much to his pleasure.

He entered slowly, the friction of the stretch causing both of you to groan harmoniously. Inch by inch, he took his time, his intense focus clear on his face. You winced at one moment, but urged him to continue when he hesitated. Both new to this experience, taking it slow was no issue. You were eager to take your time having your body clearly worshipped by him, and he was ready to finally consume another human in such a manner. The connection that the two of you shared had complicated his life massively, but he couldn’t remember why he was ever angry about it. The sensations that you were giving him were otherworldly, and the irony that he could perhaps taste a bit of heaven after nearly a century of being in hell made him inhale sharply to withhold a chuckle of laughter.

Below him you were shifting to help with comfort, and he responded by following your body’s lead and moving his own hips. Before long, he managed to fully hilt himself within your willing pussy. He pulled out an inch before jutting back in, causing you to groan in pleasure. He did it again, intent on memorising the face you were making in response to his actions, as it was definitely a face he had not been responsible for before. Your hips attempted to roll, or shift, to meet him and start a new tempo. The throbbing nature of his cock picking up speed, pumping slowly at first before both of you snapped like an elastic band and feverishly met one another, was causing a familiar buildup of burning pleasure within both of your bodies.

His movements became more desperate, and your hands connected with his body however you could reach with the position you were in.

“Alastor,” you started breathlessly, “I’m s-soo, close, I need-” You reached down to your clit, eager to assist with the endgame, but one hand of his swatted at your own and replaced it, his thumb pressing down hard and starting a quick circle around it. You slammed your head into the ground, letting out a strangled wail of pleasure, and started to knead your breasts in tandem with his movements. The two of you for a moment were the only beings in hell, completely oblivious to any goals, or responsibilities expected from the two of you - the only mission at this moment was to come together, in this strange bayou environment, completing this ancient ritual between two restless souls.

A few sharp pumps paired with his thumb picking up speed on your clit had him slamming into your cunt as you lost control and came to orgasm, him meeting your own with a quick uncontrolled jerking of his hips, both of you riding it out together. His hot release was filling you up, and your inner walls were clenching around him, sucking out the final moments of his orgasm. He moved your leg back to the ground and collapsed beside you, pulling out during the movement, and the emptiness was immediate and almost upsetting. You were unsure if it was just the normal action of sex or the unbreaking bond the two of you shared that made you feel like a whole person with him inside of you, but you missed his presence internally already.

Both of you laid in silence, the air hitting your sweaty bodies and reminding you that whatever just happened had, in fact, just happened. You were both getting control of your breathing, and you shivered at the loss of adrenaline and movement, teeth slightly clattering. You laughed sharply at your embarrassing sounds, and covered your face with your hands, apologising for the noise.

He chuckled in response, and came to embrace you, pulling you close to him, enveloping you within himself and holding your head to his chest where you could meet his rapid heartbeat. He covered the two of you with a blanket conjured from who cared where, and the two of you laid comfortably within each other's arms on the bayou earth, breathing together until sleep overtook you.

Whatever you came to him for could wait, not that you could remember anyway. This evening certainly took a strange turn for the better, for neither of you had felt such a sense of completeness since you arrived. Both were eager to revel in it before everything went to shit.

___________

Guess how many times I read this to make sure it wasn’t a complete dumpster fire. So many.

Be prepared, the next chapter is like 7k of just smutty goodness because I figured I owed it to everyone.

Taglist:

@queermaxwooo @drawings-by-meh @sirens-and-moonflowers @looking1016 @mo-0-o @blakeaha @mutifandomkid @ministarheaven @nightingale0603 @loadedwafflefries @rizzscary @bishiglomper @vividachromatic @fluffy-koalala @mkaella @readergirlstuff @xalygatorx @phisen @rukkshevahna @hazbin-hoetel @white-00-7 @iheartalastor @littlebluefishtail @little-slyvixen @bishiglomper @catticora @alastorssimp @midorichoco @garfieldthomas @spottypug

[lulublack90]

Prompt 22 - Contrast

@jegulus-microfic February 22 Word count 887

Previous part First part

James looked down at the battered frame of his best friend. His brother. They’d done all they could to help him, but magic can only do so much. The rest was up to Sirius, and he’d stopped trying. 

The contrast between the vibrant, full-of-life man he knew Sirius to be and this sad, broken man was harrowing. Sirius was broken, and it wasn’t just externally. James hadn’t realised how hard it would be on Sirius not having Remus beside him.

James was lost. He didn’t know how to help Sirius. The only thing he could do was be there for him. 

Regulus had asked for another meeting. He’d said it was vitally important that the Order knew what he’d discovered. James reluctantly left his friend’s side.

“I’ll be back later, okay? Is there anything you want me to tell Regulus?” Sirius just stared blankly at a spot somewhere behind James silently. 

James left feeling his heart break further when Sirius curled into a tiny ball and pulled the blankets over himself. 

He was escorted out of the safe house and instructed to apparate at least three times when he returned.

He arrived at the meeting point arranged by Mad-Eye. So he and Regulus could meet safely. 

Regulus wasn’t there yet, so James settled in to wait. The door opened, and a disillusioned man walked in. James watched as the slight shimmery form became corporal, leaving Regulus standing before him. He opened his arms and folded them around Regulus, and they both exhaled, finding relief in being close to one another. 

“I don’t have long,” Regulus sniffed. “He’s called a meeting this morning that I’m expected to attend.” James held him a little tighter. “How’s Sirius?” Regulus asked. He sounded small. James had to swallow the lump in his throat before he could speak. 

“He’s— He’s not good. Having Remus taken, he’s not himself. They’ve healed what they can after the attack, and he’s not in any danger from his injuries, but he’s quiet.” One word never used to describe Sirius Black was quiet. Regulus tensed his jaw when James said it. 

“Did you talk to Dumbledore about Evan and Barty?” Regulus asked, changing the subject to something he hoped was easier to deal with.  

“I did. He said if they can prove themselves to be useful and bring valuable information, he would vouch for them at their trials.” Regulus pulled away. 

“That’s it? That’s all he’s offering? That’s not good enough, they need immunity.” Regulus was shaking his head and started pacing.

“We need something good. Something I can use to help persuade Dumbledore to do that.” James told him, trying to calm his stressful movements. Regulus’s head snapped up, and he stared at James. 

“We found something. Something big. Something crucial to winning the war.” Regulus paused as he took out the familiar notebook from his robes. He moved his hand over it and revealed the neat, fluid notes hidden within. “We, that is Evan, Barty and myself. We believe that he’s created Horcruxes.” James felt a chill run through him. If what Regulus was saying was true. Then, the war had just gotten a lot more complicated. 

Regulus made copies of all his notes and handed them to James. “Please, can you make sure that Dumbledore knows it was Evan and Barty who helped me discover this?” James nodded. 

“Yes, of course.” Regulus wandered back into James’s arms, and they spent a few minutes just standing there. 

“Reg, do you think you could call with the mirror tonight after your meeting?” 

“Yeah, probably. Why?” Regulus kept his face buried in James’s chest.

“I think that might be the way to let you see Sirius. They’ll never let you in in person, but I can get the mirror past them. I did it earlier.” He didn’t know why he hadn’t thought of it before. He’d been so worried about Sirius and Remus that it had slipped his mind. 

“Yes. I’ll call you. I don’t know what the meeting is about or how long it will go on. But once I’m alone, I’ll call. 

Reluctantly, they parted, leaving with a longing kiss. One day soon, James thought, he won’t have to keep saying goodbye like this to Regulus. He just hoped it was still a possibility and that he was wrong about the Horcruxes. 

It was just after eleven when James’s mirror warmed, and he quickly snapped it open. 

“Hi,” He said, feeling the instant relief at seeing Regulus’s face. 

“Hi,” Regulus smiled back. “Sorry, it’s so late. He started this whole speech, and it went on for a while.” Regulus rolled his eyes. James smiled fondly, then moved the mirror until it was in front of Sirius. He heard the gasp from Regulus as he took in the sight of his brother.  

Sirius didn’t respond to seeing Regulus. He just continued to stare blankly into space. “Sirius,” Regulus whispered. “I saw Remus.” Sirius blinked, then blinked again as fat tears began to pour from his eyes. 

“Is he okay?” He asked, his voice croaky from lack of use. His eyes flicked to Regulus’s.

“Yeah—Yeah, he’s okay. I’m looking out for him.”

“Thank you.” Sirius choked out past his tears. James had to look up at the ceiling as his eyes prickled. Sirius would be okay. 

Next part

[lz-didyounotice]

Wrong Doctor

This gif do not belong to me.

Heyyyyy! How are you lots? So. This one took longer than expected, liked none of my drafts and ended up with a totally different story than what it once was… But in the end it turned out okay. This one takes place a few months before “An hymne to love”.  Sorry if the writing seems a bit funky.

Froggit-

Warning : english is not my first language. Lots of fluff, mention of kids going missing.

—----------------------------

The night enveloped her in a blanket of light, the moon casting its ethereal glow upon the valley. She pulled her jacket tighter around her, the chill creeping into her back as she stood in this tranquil surrounding. Her hair danced gently in the breeze, her eyes shut, savoring every subtle shift of the wind against her skin.

In that moment, barefoot and grounded, she reveled in the sensation of grass brushing against her, its touch both enchanting and soothing. The wind whispered softly, a silent companion as she indulged in dreams of a life among the stars.

She had intended to linger for hours, captivated by the celestial spectacle above, immersed in the profound silence of the night. Despite the creeping cold, her breath materialized in wisps of white her thoughts, consumed with whimsy, as she attempted to conjure ephemeral clouds with each exhalation, watching them dissipate into the darkness. To an outsider, she would have seemed to hang on a single string of sanity with only the calming movement of her chest and the shelter of her leather jacket for warmth. For her, the onset of winter was a long-awaited embrace, promising transformation as the yellowed fields would soon be blanketed in snow.

Breaking the silence, the faint sound of footsteps approached from behind. The rhythmic rustle of grass grew louder, drawing nearer . She kept her gaze fixed upon the heavens, as though committing every star to memory.

The stranger hesitated to speak, his attention taken by the beautiful figure he now stood next to. Her short, ginger hair glowed under the moonlight, her eyes bathed in a soft, bluish luminescence. As their eyes met, something ignited  within her as she beheld the familiarity of a man she had never expected to see again.

His unruly hair and long trench coat framed a face adorned with dark brown eyes, each holding the mysteries of the universe. A small smile graced her lips as she admired the beauty of his presence.

Breaking the silence, his voice, warm and soothing, punctuated the night. "A splendid night, wouldn't you agree?"

Gazing back at the stars, she could only nod in agreement. “Splendid doesn't begin to describe it,” she murmured. Sensing him gazing away, she inquired, "And what brings a gentleman like yourself out here in the middle of night?"

"I could ask you the same," he countered.

“I find… comfort in this place… Makes me think of home.,” she confessed.

Seemingly intrigued, he pressed further, “And what might be your name ?”

With a soft smile, she adjusted her short hair before responding. “You can call me ‘Sunny’. And you? What shall I call you?”

“I'm the Doctor.”

“The Doctor? Doctor who?” Her inquiry was tinged with playful curiosity, yearning to see the smile she once cherished.

“Just the Doctor,” he replied, a faint grin playing upon his lips.

“I had a friend who went by that name…” she reminisced.

Intrigued, the Doctor couldn't resist probing further. “What happened to him? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I had to go somewhere he could not follow…” she replied, truth trapped between her teeth .

“Did you tell him ? About where you were going ?” he inquired gently.

“It was the reason we met in the first place. He knew it would happen eventually. But I don’t think he was prepared for it…” she finally admitted.

The Doctor couldn't help but wonder about what remained unspoken. The possibility of meeting one of his future companions filling his hearts with warmth and curiosity . ‘Sunny’ sounded familiar. He was sure to have met her somewhere before but didn’t want to pry further.

“Anyway, have you seen something strange ‘round here recently ?” he inquired, redirecting the conversation.

“Besides you?” she teased.

“I'm being serious.”

“Well, not far from here lies a small village. There have been reports of missing children in recent weeks. What's most unsettling is that the parents seem to forget they ever had them in the first place.”

“How does one forget their own children?” the Doctor pondered aloud.

“I've wondered the same. And with no one reporting them missing, there's been little effort to find them. It's as though they vanish into thin air,” she explained.

“Now that’s dreadful. At least I know where to search.” the Doctor resolved, turning his full attention to her. “Do you happen to have a vehicle we could use to get to town  ?”

“If you ask so kindly, I might be able to lend a hand too. Come on” she offered with a warm smile, leading the way towards her home.

—----------------------------

Soon, a small cottage came into view, its white walls adorned with creeping vines, a charming composition of rustic brick and verdant foliage. Adjacent to it stood a barn, spacious enough to shelter two vehicles within.

Hurrying to the porch, the ginger-haired woman donned her shoes before darting towards the barn.

“I must warn you, there’s not only vehicles in there.” Finally opening the doors, a sort of large laboratory came into view. Filled with spare parts, prototypes made out of domestic machinery. The Doctor's eyes gleamed with a childlike fascination as he explored each and every invention he could put his hand on. “‘Careful with that, wouldn't want you to blow up anything.” she quipped, her tone lighthearted as she watched him tinker with her modified mixer.

"A bit rubbish, don't you think you could have used a different lens for these? The blast could be fuller." Searching for two helmets, the ginger haired girl tried to not be offended by the Doctor's comments. “I do with what I can find, Doctor. Anyway, most of them are just smaller scale machinery.” Finally finding what she was searching for, she tossed a black one to the timelord. “Catch! I hope you’re not afraid of speed my dear.” 

Looking confused, the doctor examined his helmet, and realized what they would be driving. “Oh- That’s brilliant!”

—----------------------------

Long had it been since she had such a thrilling adventure. Dodging monstrous aliens and unraveling mysteries alongside the Doctor. She even found herself yearning to join him aboard the TARDIS once more. Yet, she knew it was a temptation she couldn't succumb to, lest she alter the course of fate.

As they rode back on her motorbike, she relished the sensation of his arms encircling her, his laughter mingling with the rush of wind. His presence behind her, his warmth seeping through her, felt like a dream she never wanted to end.

Upon returning home, she resolved to embark on a journey of her own—a quest to reunite with her lost lover. But as the Doctor passed by the door, she invited him to share a cup of hot chocolate with her, an offer he accepted with eagerness.

Seated together on the couch, they savored each sip, savoring the fleeting moment of companionship.

“You know, your friend was lucky to have you by his side,” the Doctor remarked, his gaze thoughtful as he sipped his drink.

Smiling softly, she leaned closer, resting her head against his shoulder. “I believe I was the fortunate one. I only wish he could see himself as I see him.”

“And how do you see him?” he inquired earnestly.

“Can I be honest?”

“Of course.”

“A complete and utter idiot…” she confessed, her tone affectionate as laughter bubbled between them. “But a kind idiot.”

As their eyes met, an unspoken understanding passed between them, as if this moment was meant to be.

"I hope you find him soon. He must miss his companion," the Doctor remarked gently.

“I miss him too,” she whispered, her heart heavy with longing.

—----------------------------

The Tardis was Shimmering. Her to be slightly altered beauty, scratched from previous adventures. She had missed the feeling of  her wood beneath the skin, how comforting it actually was.

Standing outside of the TARDIS door, the Doctor had extended an offer for her to accompany him, albeit temporarily, but as much as she appreciated the offer, she knew her destiny lay elsewhere. 

“Before I go… Though I'm not supposed to know, could you perhaps share your name?” the man requested softly.

“I suppose it won't hurt,” she conceded, stepping closer. “I'm (Y/N).”

“It was a pleasure meeting you (Y/N)” he said with a wistful smile, finally setting foot into the blue box.

“And it was a pleasure to see you again, Doctor,” she replied.

And as the TARDIS vanished from sight, (Y/N) felt her heart swell with determination. She wanted to burst out, claim the very air in her lungs and scream out her farewell. Though tears welled in her eyes, they  weren’t tears of sadness, as hope came through. Hope to be in his arms, reunited with her beloved once again.

[yooopii]

strawberry milkshake MDNI

John "Soap" Mactavish x Female!Reader

wc: 1,619

co-written with @emstpwkk!!

Your period cramps are more painful than normal. Fortunately, your boyfriend comes home early just in time to help.

Laying down on your couch after your last day for a while from your shitty job was great, especially when you get to finish that one series you've been meaning to watch. Especially when you get away from creepy coworkers, who always ask to drive you home, or to share a cig with you. You didn't even smoke!

It would be a dream night, eating ice cream out of the tub while watching TV if you weren't on your goddamn period.

You had a history of horrible, mind-breaking period cramps, which led to a heavier flow than most other women you knew. They were so bad that when you were younger, you missed school days and had to leave sleepovers early. But thankfully, you had an out to these problems. Once you got older, you fell in love with Johnny. A Scottish SAS soldier with a mohawk. He had helped you through them each time, and it was like he had memorized them to know exactly when to take off his lifesaving duties to help you.

Unfortunately, this wasn't the case, and you were curled up in the fetal position, holding your knees tight to your chest as you tried to distract yourself from the pain. You had taken pain medication before, but it seemed like it didn't work anymore.

Soap was currently on a mission somewhere in the country, which means he couldn't help you this time. He was supposed to be back a long time ago, but apparently, his mission had gone longer. It had been months since he’s left and you haven’t had him to help.

You had let go of your knees and were clutching your lower abdomen like a vice, trying to ignore the full-body shocks of pain that waved across your body as you writhed in pain, trying to distract you with the playing TV in front of you.

You groaned and let out little whines as the cramps kept hitting you like a truck nonstop, barely even letting you breathe. You try to focus on the TV, but the creak of the unoiled door breaks your trance. You know it would probably be Soap, but you still get up and check anyway. As you leave the spot where you've been curled up in agony for the past few hours, you peak the corner and notice a big, burly, and very handsome Scottish man shrugging his coat off. You sigh in relief and smile as you inch closer, as Soap notices you. He smiled right back, his dimples framing his smile.

You stay quiet as you slowly close the distance between you two, and he immediately knows what to do. He opens up his arms and engulfs you in a hug, kissing your hair as you two stay there. This wasn't normal for you, since you'd usually be waiting for him in the living room or your bedroom.

“What's all this for?” He looks down into your eyes and grabs your face to make eye contact as he asks.

“I'm in pain,” is all you mumble out as you tilt your head back down to nuzzle into his chest. A tinge of fear flows through him and he immediately adopts a concerned look on his face, as he checks your body for physical injuries.

“What's wrong bonnie— Are you hurt somewhere?” His tone was a mix of concern and confusion as he looked you up and down, even turning you around. You smile gently as you shake your head no, explaining what you meant.

“No no no Johnny, I'm not hurt. I'm bleeding profusely.” He stares at you for a few seconds, before understanding what you meant. He lets out a faint sound of acknowledgment before pulling you closer to his chest, “Sorry lass, the mission ran a little longer than expected..” he explains before a huge cocky grin appears on his face as he leaves more kisses on top of your head.

“Johnny… what are you planning?” You ask as he leaves soft kisses on your face before he speaks in an amused tone.

“Y'know lass, I saw somethin’ on the internet sayin-“ You cut him off with a giggle and place your hand on his mouth to silence him, already knowing where that was heading.

“No!” You say with giggles falling out of your mouth, covering your face with your free hand as it turns pink. He tilted his head like a pup, wondering what was soo wrong with his great idea. “I'm not having sex with you while I'm quite literally bleeding everywhere! We’ll stain the bed and the sheets!”

He grabs my hand off his mouth and brings it down to his chest. “It’ll help ye wi yer cramps! Promise, okay?” He hugs you tighter, before letting you go to take off the rest of his duty clothesline. You try to argue, claiming that you would make a big mess everywhere. He cuts you off with a click of his tongue, saying “An'll clean it up. Towels exist.”

This mindless silly arguing dragged on for a few more minutes until he finally convinced you to let him help out differently. His smirk only got bigger once you agreed, quickly grabbing you by your thighs as he hoisted you up around his waist as he walked to the bedroom. He kept himself busy, spreading kisses all over your face.

He sat you on the side of the bed and got some towels from the cabinet, laying them out on the bed before laying you on top of them. You rest your hips on them as he stripped himself of his clothes. First his shirt, then his cargo pants. His chest was littered with scars, some small, some large. One even started from the middle of his torso to his back. Your eyes were drifting down his body when you caught sight of him fishing himself out of his underwear. He was heavy in his hands as he started to fist his cock as he stepped closer to the bed, frothy precum dribbling out of his foreskin.

You quickly jumped into motion at the sight, pulling your shirt over your head and sliding the thigh-length pajama shorts off of you, along with your panties. You instinctively went to close your legs, but Johnny stopped you with a click of his tongue. His hands went to your knees, spreading them apart to either side of his hips.

He smiled as he slotted himself in between your thighs, his blue eyes looking over your curves. “All this for me, lass?”

You tightened your hold against his sides as he grabbed a condom, ripping it open with his teeth and sliding the rubber onto himself as he stared at your slick, red folds.

“Aye bonnie… I'm too lucky to have you…” His voice was rough as he pressed his swollen red, angry head into your clit. You bite down on a moan, eyes almost rolling to the back of your skull as he rubbed circles with his tip on your clit. It was a subtle gesture, but it felt so good that you couldn't help but softly moan. He dipped his cockhead into your slit as he collected your fluids, pressing right up against your hole as he carefully pushed into you with almost no resistance.

“Come on lass, tha’s it, biiiig stretch…” As he pulled out, his dick was coated with streaks of red wrapped in your mixed fluids. His hands softly found your hips as he started to bounce into you slowly at first before quickly picking up the pace, the skin-to-skin contact echoing throughout the room along with Johnny's soft praises in your ear. You couldn't feel much of anything other than your cervix being kissed by his tip, and the burn on his hips meeting yours.

Your eyelids were screwed tight from the pleasure, your head tipped back slightly as moans melted into the sounds in the room, his pace not stopping or faltering. Your eyes flew open before falling into a half-lidded state as he pinched and softly twisted at your clit, then soothing it with soft circular strokes.

He lifted your legs higher as his chest met yours, his breath fanning your ear as your nipples rubbed against his chest. You gripped onto his shoulder blades, dragging your nails down his back, in an attempt to find purchase.

He didn't slow down as he stuffed his cock into you, deeper than you ever thought possible. The fluids mixed on his dick and inside you made it comically easy to fuck, his dick was sliding in and out faster and faster as more precum dribbled into the condom.

“Fuck- s-so close-” His words got swallowed up as his breath got caught n his throat, his brows furrowing as his thrusts got more needy. He came into the rubber and felt his eyes roll back, whimpering as he pressed his forehead onto yours. You soon followed him and came, feeling small droplets dripping from his waist to yours.

You both panted, and he carefully pulled out to dispose of the condom and clean you up. Minutes later after he switched out the towels, throwing the dirty ones in a corner to be dealt with later, gave you fresh panties, and gave you snacks and water, did he join you on the bed for snuggles. You were finishing up a bag of chips as he kissed you softly on your cheek, nuzzling into your hair. You were maybe pancaking him, but he didn’t mind. He wrapped his arms around you as he slowly fell asleep, exhaustion catching up to him. You held his hands as you fell asleep, without any cramps.

thank you for reading!!