#Price is probably in the restroom

[call-of-duty-incorrect-quotes]

Ghost, very drunk and growling in frustration, eyes fixed on his glass: And I keep trying to tell Johnny I'm in love with him, but he's so damn dense and he never notices when I flirt with him.

Soap, equally drunk, oblivious and dumb: When did you meet someone else named Johnny???!!!

[sparklingblu]

Eroverse

Pt.3 - Alpha & Omega

Yeji x Male Reader (ft. Kazuha)

Good news. None.   

Bad news. Where do you even start?   

The worst would be the fact that you can't feel your body. Your eyes seem to be the only functioning organ. To add insult to injury, your whole body is bare, and your clothes are nowhere to be found. You curse yourself for not grabbing your clothes before you get teleported back from that boxing ring. No use regretting it now. Even if you manage to move your limbs somehow, you are trapped in a bar restroom butt naked. Can this day get even worse?   

To be honest, you expect yourself to develop some kind of resistance to all those headaches and pain after passing out four times in a day. Seems like there's no improvement. You can just hope no one comes knocking at the door. That leads you to wonder, how long have you been gone? The first time you encounter Rei or what seems to be Rei, it takes almost an hour. But at least she obeys every command you give so it isn't much of a struggle. The second time, however, you have to wrestle with Eunbi first before you finally tame her, as the quest had said. You are certain more than an hour has flown by.    

Your phone chimes with a notification nearby. No doubt from the 'Ero' app. You desperately want to check it but there's not much you can do when your body feels like a lump of clay. So, you continue doing what you initially were, staring at the ceiling. Funny enough, seeing the ceiling has become a kind of relief after losing and gaining consciousness multiple times. At least, it reminds you that you are alive.  

Once again, you can't help but think of all the unanswered questions that have piled up even more after your encounter with Eunbi. The voice that consistently keeps praising you after you complete a quest, the idols that you have met who are not actually idols. You are pretty sure about that now. Are they replicas? clones? Then what does that make you? A test subject for some crazy experiment that involve fucking idol clones? As usual, no answer.  

If you look at it from the bright side, ignoring all the pain and confusion, you have used two idols for your release already. Getting to fuck one idol should be considered universally lucky. But two? You had to save a nation in your past life for that. Whether they are real or not, they still look exactly the same so it doesn't really make a difference. However, the downside shouldn't be ignored either. If you try to complete one more quest, fuck one more idol, you might not wake up again. With each jump, your body seems to weaken. It starts with headaches and soreness and now you are paralyzed. Not really a price worth paying. You are not perverted enough to trade your life for sex.  

Actually, you might have passed that point already. If you inevitably have to die, you want to go out with honor. Not as a naked corpse in a restroom. "Oh, how did he die?" "I don't know, probably from jerking off naked in the toilet" Yep. Not a good idea.   

A few minutes pass and you start considering screaming for help. You have to sacrifice every bit of dignity you have but at least you won't die. Thankfully, it doesn't happen. Blood starts to flow again in your fingers and soon, you are well aware of the cold floor on your skin.   

You sit up groggily, propping yourself against the toilet for support. Taking a few deep breaths, you picked up the phone. The screen is full of cracks, it covers almost every part of the notification on your lock screen but without a doubt, it's from the 'Ero' app.   

"Congrats on completing your second quest. Please wait patiently for the next one"  

Typical. Just congratulations. Not to mention you nearly got killed. Thank you very much.   

Then your eyes move to the upper corner of the screen displaying the time, 8:48. You can't be sure, but you are certain no more than a few minutes have passed since you passed out. How is it possible? Even without the time you spent laying paralyzed, it takes at least an hour to do everything you have done with Eunbi. No wonder no one comes looking for you.   

Maybe time flows differently in whatever places you get teleported to. Another mystery. Your head starts throbbing, a sign of an oncoming headache. God, can that app let you off for once? There's a silver lining though. Your clothes lie in a pile in a corner. You have to shut your mouth before you start screaming with joy.   

After changing hastily and washing your face, you exit the room. Russell and the rest of the crew are still at their table, their voices getting louder by the second. The effects of all the drinks they had had are evident on their red puffy faces. They don't even seem to notice your absence except Russell, who raises his hand at the sight of you.  

"Man, you have been gone pretty long, you ok?" he asks.  

"Yeah, I'm fine.."  

"You sure? You look like you just woke up"  

He's not wrong but no use making him worried.  

"Trust me. I'm ok. Just a bit tired, i guess"  

"Have you been working late again?"  

Gosh, this guy cares about you more than your mom. You take this as your chance to get out of here.  

"Yeah, got some articles to finish. I have been procrastinating on this one I have to send tomorrow. Mind if I leave early? I need to sleep early"  

"Of course. Don't work too hard, huh? You still have to write a best-seller remember?"  

You simply smile and leave, grabbing your coat. The cold breeze offers you some comfort to the headache that's becoming unbearable. You just want to lay down on the spot and fall asleep. You walk back to your room, trying not to pass out on the way. The night is still young, and the sound of traffic and the chatter of people follows you everywhere. Ordinary people enjoying their lives unlike you, who have become a different person in just a day. You were a writer, not a good one but still an average Joe. Now, you fuck idols with the help of an app. Anyone who hear it will suggest you talk to a therapist, and you won't blame them.   

And what is it that makes the app choose you? You have no special abilities other than the fact that you can mimic animal sounds and that's not even a real talent. Perhaps luck has finally found its way to your ever unfortunate life. But can it be called luck with how you become a step closer to death with each quest you take on. 

You are so busy debating with yourself you are completely oblivious to your surroundings. If only you have turned your head to an alley across the street, you would have seen a dark figure with sparkling eyes that follow every one of your movements. A predator lurking in the shadows. 

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎  

A week has passed. The 'Ero' app is silent as ever. 

You find yourself expecting a message for another quest despite promising yourself you won't let your perversion lead you to your demise. You should really start thinking with your brain rather than your dick. 

Three days after your last quest, you even try to enter the 'Ero' app out of curiosity. The app closes automatically. After a few more tries, you give up out of disappointment and shame. Shame for trying to enter the app even after knowing the risks. Shame for being a hopeless pervert. 

You should just stick to jerking off to fancams and pictures, at least that way you won't be playing with your life or getting beat up by an idol. That's what you have been doing since you got smitten by those kpop girls but after the quests you have done, it becomes tedious. You will still pump a load or two after seeing Karina's tits or Sohee's ass but it's nothing compared to Rei's blowjob or Eunbi's titjob. You have become addicted.  

Ironically, you even find yourself dreaming of the darkness, the mahogany room and the boxing ring. This is what Eve might have felt when she's told not to eat the forbidden fruit, you think. Because forbidden things are the most tempting.  

You still write but no longer out of pleasure, just to survive. And that reminds you, you should stop eating take outs and cook something yourself for once. Your room was a mess but now it's a whole trash pile. Plastic boxes and cups from all the take outs you order lie in a mountain at the sink. The trash car comes, you are just too lazy to throw it out. And if you don't do something about that stack of papers on the table, it's gonna touch the ceiling soon.  

In short, you have become a mess. Every time your phone chimes, you would check it in a heartbeat, expecting a text from the 'Ero' app. But of course, it isn't. The app has gone ghost quiet. You are desperately seeking to complete just one more quest. One more idol to fuck. 

You rarely go outside and ignore all the messages your friends and colleagues sent you. There's only one message you want to receive which never comes. 

After a week of living like a vampire, a realization hits you. One so obvious you feel like an idiot not thinking about it sooner. All the problems you are facing are rooted from one single thing, the 'Ero' app. If you delete it, your suffering might end. You can even pretend everything that happened was a dream. 

So, you get out of the bed which you have been laying on for hours and grab your phone on the table. The sudden burst of light in the dark room as the screen opens leaves you seeing black spots. It is nighttime but you haven't opened your curtains in a while, so it doesn't really make a difference.  

You swipe till you land on the 'Ero' app. That little black heart icon. You press on it and the uninstall option pops off. 'Finally' you think. 'It's gonna be over. No more crazy stuffs' though a small voice somewhere in your mind keep insisting. 'But what of the pleasure that rivals no other? What of the idols you will meet?' 'Fuck this' you answer. It's true you are a pervert, but you are not hopeless. You won't die so that you can fuck some clone of an idol.  

Determined, you raise your thumb and nearly press on the uninstall button until-  

Your phone chimes. A notification on the top of the screen.  

"New quest ready, ready for your next adventure chosen one?" 

God damn it. Just when you are determined, this app has to come and ruin it. All the walls you have put up about not being a hopeless pervert crumbles in milliseconds. You want this after all. You don't want the app gone. You are just mas that it won't give you a quest. Now what you have been begging for a week is right in front of your eyes. You have to make a choice. Yes or No? 

This quest can be your last. A punishment for letting your dick makes your decisions. You can ignore it. Delete the app and go on with your life as normal. But will your life ever be normal after deleting the app? Who can say you won't be wondering what the third quest would be and which idol you would meet? And worst of all, you will become ordinary again without the app. No more magic portals to creepy rooms.  

You don't want to be ordinary. You have tried your best to become something others aren't all your life. Now, the chance has been presented to you. Your own personal paradise. All yours. No one else's.  

So, you tap on the message, opening the app to the loading screen with the black heart. Even the sight of it gets excitement creeping up your legs already. Then you close your eyes immediately before they get torched by that blinding flash. After waiting for a minute just to be safe, you open your eyes again. A text box sits in the center of the screen, instructions to your next quest. Except that you can't read them. 

The words are fuzzy and blurred. Some even completely redacted by black lines. It is as though someone has made them unreadable on purpose. What the hell is going on? 

This can be another challenge, a harder quest. Even more difficult than trying to defeat an idol who nearly crashes you to pulp. A higher risk of death. A tinge of regret starts to overwhelm you but it's too late. 

The all-familiar darkness envelopes you once again. Then comes the icy cold spike that tears through your organs. Your vision fades and you crumple like paper. 

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎  

Your old friend accompanies your wake. Of course, it's the headache. Fortunately, it isn't as strong as before or maybe you have just been out of touch you forget the pain. Nevertheless, you are alive.  

You don't get to celebrate much though because the sight that greets you when you open your eyes sucks the joy right out of your heart. It isn't the ceiling this time. At least seeing the ceiling would have been a comfort. What you see is anything but comforting. 

To start, you are not in a room like you were the last two quests. You are surrounded by marble columns that support the circular dome on top. A temple like those in Greek times. A huge part of the building has crumbled, giving you a clear view of what lies ahead.  

Your heart leaps. Before your eyes lies what you can only describe as an apocalyptic city. Actually, an apocalyptic Greek city. Smoke billows from several temples writhed in flames. Most of the bronze and marble statues lining the sandy paths are missing a body part, some have been completely destroyed. A colosseum crumbles to dust right in front of your eyes though you have no idea what a Roman structure is doing in a Greek city. It would have been a beautiful place if it's not for the fact that it looks like a war zone.  

The temple you are in is not holding out really well either. From time to time, debris would fall from the ceiling, and you can only hope the roof won't collapse on top of you. You try to move and that's when you realize you have been tied up. Looking down, you find yourself bound to a chair with metal chains, your hands at the back. Your legs are no exception either. They have been tied up as well. 

This quest is starting to look hopeless already. It would be so easy for someone to gut you right now and you can do nothing but watch. You could call out for help except that there isn't a living being in sight. Even if someone does come, you can't be certain if they are friends or foes. 

You remember the surge of strength that has come to you when you were at the brink of death. It would be really really helpful if you could get that kind of help right now. Though you doubt that kind of chance will be given twice. 

"Oh, he can't help you this time" As if reading your thoughts, a voice rings out behind a column.  

The owner of the voice emerges. A figure with fiery red hair wearing a top of matching color. The black jeans accentuate her slender legs. Her ruby red eyes fixed on you with a steely gaze. Yeji, the leader of Itzy. 

"Ehm....Yeji?" Obviously, the idol before you is not the real Yeji. But you ask anyway. 

"In a sense" She replies. "But that won't matter anymore after I kill you" 

Just wonderful. Another idol who wants you dead.  

"I gotta praise you though. You are pretty strong compared to those before you" 

"Others? What are you talking about?" 

"Oh, do you think you are the only one chosen by the app, chosen one?" She strains the last part just to sound sarcastic.  

"Look, I don't even understand what's happening much less answer your questions. I don't even know why you want to kill me" 

"Oh, you very much do" She snaps back. "Rei? Eunbi? The things you did to them. You are lucky I let you live this long" 

"I was just doing what the app told me to" 

"Oh, yes. That stupid 'Ero' app. You love it so much you walked right into my trap" 

The realization hits you like a bucket of cold water. The quest that arrives right when the app is nearly deleted. The distorted letters.  

"It's you" You say. "You are the one who set up this quest" 

"Correct" Her voice is dripping with glee. "Aren't I clever?" 

"Ok, Yeji....or whatever. If you let me go, I promise I won't-" 

"Oh, shut up. You will follow where your dick leads you" 

She's not wrong. Still, it sort of hurts. 

"There's nothing you will get out of killing me" You try the other route. 

"Oh, there's a lot I can get out of killing you" Yeji muses, walking closer. "And I will start by destroying the thing that have been distracting my kind" 

You don't know what she means but you don't need to wonder for long because with the flick of her wrist, your shorts come off. Look, you know some guys are really into the bondage stuff when the girl ties you up and all, but it isn't much fun when your partner is trying to kill you. But there's a bigger threat than getting killed right now. 

"Wait, you don't mean my-"  

"Dick? Yes. If it's gone, you can no longer bother us, right?" 

"You can't do that! It's illegal" 

"Look around you. You are no longer on earth" 

You are making empty threats, and you know it too well. But you don't want your bloodline to end with you. 

"Look, maybe we can make a deal or something" 

"Too late" Yeji unfolds her palm and a gladius, a roman sword, manifests out of thin air. She's definitely not human. 

You tilt your head in panic as the point hovers over your throat.  

"I should have just killed you but where's the fun in that?" 

Your breath hitches. You don't trust yourself to talk without blabbering out more pleas that will make Yeji even madder. And even worse, your dick is rock hard because of the adrenaline.  

"Bye bye" She raises the sword and brings it down on your springing mamba. You close your eyes. bracing yourself for the pain. But it never comes because a voice cuts through the tense atmosphere.  

"Wait!" Another female voice and running footsteps. You open your eyes. 

Behind Yeji is Kazuha, the japanese member of Le Sserafim. Her pink satin dresses look out of place among the ruins of the city, like a runaway bride.  

"Kazuha?" Yeji lowers the gladius. "Oh, let me guess. He sent you" 

"You need to stop this. Killing him won't stop our problems" 

"You don't know that for sure. One less candidate means less chance for the mark to emerge" 

"What mark?" instantly, you regret not keeping your mouth shut. They want to cut your dick off for christ's sake. 

"The mark of-" Kazuha starts to answer but Yeji cuts her off.  

"Shut up" Yeji snaps. "He's going to die anyway" 

"Stop this, Yeji. He's going to be so mad if he finds out" 

"So what? He has been a dick all those times. You still take orders from him?" 

"He can be crazy sometimes but it's our job to serve him" 

"Bullshit. You are just too scared to disobey" 

"Yeji, please" 

Kazuha's words have no effect. Yeji closes in on you again and raises her gladius. This time there's no escape for you.  

Then the strangest thing happens. A burst of energy erupts from your core, spreading to every cell in your body. All the fatigue and panic are gone. It's like being dipped in water when you are high. You feel pumped, ready to do anything. More specifically, ready to fuck anyone because the lust inside you has never been so strong. 

"It can't be..." Yeji backs away, dropping her gladius. Her face that of pure horror. 

You look down and nearly scream yourself. On your pelvis is an upside-down pentagram, like those used in cult rituals and its glowing red hot though you don't feel any pain. Further down is an even stranger sight. Your dick is literally glowing. Upon taking a closer look, you realize it’s surrounded by a golden aura like it's something powerful. All the chains binding you shatter to pieces, and you rise.  

"The mark" Kazuha mutters dreamily. "It's real" 

"No!" Yeji screams, falling down. "It's a myth. How could it be-" She picks up her gladius and instantly charges. You back away but there isn't a need. Because Yeji got thrown away as though hit by an invisible force. 

She crouches on the floor, panting. "This is madness" 

Kazuha just stands there frozen. Hey eyes fixed on your glowing cock. 

But you only have a single objective in your mind. Ruin Yeji. Use her. Punish her. She is nothing but an easy prey.  

"Stay away" Yeji shouts. In the end, the hunter has become the hunted. 

You close in, grabbing her wrists and pulling her up. Then you slam her onto a column. You don't intend to hurt her though. She's in for something much worse.  

"I will kill you" She mutters but the panic is clear as day in the way her words stutter. Grabbing her waist, you trace your lips across the pulsing veins of her neck all the way to her jaw. Then a bite on her earlobe. Yeji squirms. 

"Still want to kill me?" The question is left unanswered as Yeji's lips part to give way to your tongue, which invades into her oral opening. Yeji's pupils widen when her own tongue got tickled by the foreign one. Her screams come out muffled. Yeji tries to pull away but the grip of your lips on hers is stronger than ever.  

All the while, your hands make their way down to her waist belt, enjoying the feeling of her firm skin. Sliding down further, you slip into her jeans, squeezing that tone ass of hers.  

The writhing of her body is cut short when you slid a finger into her tight asshole, which makes her limp like a rug doll. At first, it's hard to move much with how hard her hole grips you but after a few pumps, it starts to oblige, allowing swifter movements.  

As you finger her asshole, you don't stop the mouth action either. You can no longer tell whose mouth is moister as your saliva got mixed from how long you have been tasting her. All that matters is you keep her mouth shut. The strands of red hair fall over, obscuring your vision partly but you press on, taking in her taste each and every second. Your dick is pressed flat against her tummy in this position and it's getting you even more riled up. You can take care of it later. 

With your unoccupied hand, you squeeze her soft cheeks, which fold like rubber under your touch. The pace of your finger that keeps fucking her asshole remains unwavering. In fact, its pounding her now the same way your cock would. At the same time, you are tongue fucking her. Both of her holes are stuffed and there's nothing she can do about it except produces more degraded sounds. 

Yeji's legs start to shake, inevitably nearing her peak whether she likes it or not. Saliva drips from the corner of her lips and a strand of the remnants connect your lips as your tongue exits her mouth. You are not letting her off. You just want to hear her moan. 

"I...will kill you..." Her voice comes out husky, so it sounds more like an empty promise than a threat. 

"Just shut up and cum bitch" Your thrusts become forceful. Perhaps you are hurting her but Yeji's moaning too much to care. Unable to resist the sight of her skin, you bite down on her neck, pitching up her voice.  

Finally, Yeji breaks. In a frenzy of pain and bliss, she lets out a carnal groan which rings out through the temple. Juice gush out from her pussy when your finger thrust in one last time. Each time her body convulses, she lets out a moan, each one louder than the last. She is still trembling nonstop even after you pull out, her jeans stained with her own bodily fluid. 

"Did you just come from getting your asshole fingered?" You ask. Yeji can only pant as she props against a column not to tremble from her legs that are on the verge of giving out. 

From the corner of your eyes, you can see Kazuha, her arms folded, watching the whole thing without a single word. She seems to be on your side for now. 

"Tired already?" You ask Yeji. "It's just starting" 

The mark on your pelvis glows brighter, the red rays casting a translucent glow on Yeji. With an iron grip on her shoulders, you turn her around, allowing you the view of her round ass in tight jeans. The stain on her crotch area makes the scene even more lewd. 

"Admit it, Yeji. All this time you have been a slut. My cock is all it takes to wipe that bitchy look off your face" Your cock presses against her clothed ass. 

"I swear I will kill-" 

You pull down her jeans just enough to expose her round butt, stealing the air right out of her lungs. Your palm connects with her supple flesh in a harsh spank, leaving a handprint in red. You deliver a strike for each word that leaves her mouth. It goes like this. 

"I-" 

Spank 

"will-" 

Spank 

"kill-" 

Spank 

"you-" 

The white canvas of her skin is now streaked with scarlet stripes. And you intend to keep it that way because the way her ass jiggle with each spank is too hypnotic to get tired of. The cherry on the top is how she keeps protesting even through the stinging pain. But you are gonna change it real soon. 

With one last strike, you pull back, admiring your handiwork on her ass, which is now the same fiery shade as her hair and tops. Yeji mutters another curse through shallow breath. This bitch is still as cocky as ever. 

Pulling her hair to tilt her head, you whisper into her ear. "Still resisitng, hmm? Should we move on to your next punishment?" Yeji's eyes blaze with fury. "Bastard"  

"So, we are doing it the rough way" You hold her throat in a tight grip with your other hand, restricting any more words from coming out of her vocal cords.  

You rest your rock hard cock between her cheeks, the glow it radiates merging with her reddened buttocks. "I'm gonna fuck your brains out now. And then I wanna know if you still want me dead"  

Yeji can do nothing as you enter her moist slit with one forceful thrust that ripples her cheeks. You don't know if she's a virgin or not but the way her walls hug you tight is giving you ideas. Nevertheless, you push on, breaking through the barriers of her fold with each thrust. It doesn't take much time for you to pound her freely with how wet she already is from earlier. 

Soon, you are hammering her cunt without a care in the world, solely focused on using her as your vessel for pleasure. You will take anything her body can offer and that will be her punishment, to become nothing but your cumdump. Resentment and triumph take over your movements and each thrust leaves her even more breathless despite being choked. 

You loosen your grip on her neck just enough for her to make audible sounds. "Still hate me?" You ask as you pull back all the way and thrust into her slit with all your force. She tenses, her back arched. She answers your question with animalistic sounds only a whore would make. 

"Hmm, you still got a lot to learn" You slip your hands under her top, reaching for her mounds. Yeji's tits aren't qualified to be called huge, but they are still big enough to fill your palm as you knead them. When you twirl her rosy nipples between your index and thumb, she mewls like an animal in heat which is only natural with the way she's getting bred. 

You slow down your thrusts, moving in and out slowly to enjoy the full feeling of her slick velvety walls that trace every inch you fill her up with. Somewhere far away, another building collapsed with a sickening crunching sound. A wave of hot air grazes your skin. But they can do nothing to disturb you from claiming Yeji's cunt thoroughly.  

Her walls start to contrast around you, the sign of an oncoming climax. You thrust with inhuman speed, empowered by the mark, as Yeji had called it. Jolts of energy course through your veins at every moment and you are surprised to find that you are not even sweating, much less tired. You can breed Yeji all day if she isn't already worn out and used up. 

Yeji's eyes roll up, her tongue hanging out in the perfect replication of the ahaego faces you see so often in certain animes. Another flood of her nectar pours out, coating your shaft. You keep fucking through her orgasm, chasing your own high. Yeji's body twists and bends but you keep her in position by wrapping your arms around her waist.  

The friction over her slick walls becomes unbearable and soon you are pumping jets after jets of your fertile seeds into her womb, all the way to the hilt. If Yeji sounds animalistic before, now she's no different from an animal. Guttural sounds betray her lips as she gets filled up to the depths she never knows existed before. When your orgasm subsides, she becomes motionless, her hoarse breaths the only sign of life. 

You pull out and cum drips out of her hole which is clenching onto air as if it needs something stuffed inside. Her punishment is a success. Yeji's got destroyed by the very thing that she wanted to destroy. As you stand there, grinning with victory, the adrenaline starts to drain out of your body. Your legs become sore, and the fucking headache is starting again. The mark on your pelvis dims and fades along with the glow of your spent rod.  

"We need to leave" You are so caught up in the joy of dominating Yeji, you forget Kazuha exists. She's still at her old spot, watching you with interest and a slither of worry. You quickly pull up your shorts though there's no point being shy now. She has seen everything. 

"Leave where?" You ask. "My quest is completed right? I will just pass out and go back" 

"It's not happening this time. He wants to meet you" 

"He?" 

"Look, we don't have much time. He will explain everything to you. I promise" 

"But-" 

The temple rumbles. More debris and dust fall from above.  

"Alright. Good idea" You and Kazuha make it outside just in time before the whole temple collapses. The sound of explosions and crumbling buildings ring out all around you. The air burns your lungs with each breath. 

"Ok, hold my hand" Kazuha says and you oblige. There's no point arguing when you are in the middle of an apocalypse. As Kazuha closes her eyes, a gleaming orb surrounds both of you and you spiral down into a tunnel of light. 

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

(Have been procrastinating on this. Anyway, enjoy~)

[shadow4-1]

This can't be happening.

“C’mon…c’mon…” You mutter through gritted teeth, leg shaking in discomfort.

The heli jerks from turbulence, but you don’t have it in you to panic. Another wave of stomach cramps hits you like a punch to the gut. You wince and breathe out hard. You’ve dealt with food poisoning enough to recognize the signs, except, it was never you in the patient’s position. Nikolai comes over the comms. Ten minutes from base. You could kiss the bastard. At this rate you know you’ll be able to make it back.

The rest of your team isn’t faring much better.

Price sits stock still at the end of your group, eyes far away. There’s a thick sheen of sweat on his brow. He looks paler than usual. Judging by the way his adam’s apple bobs up and down, you know which end the contaminated MREs are going to come up. And of course he fights his nausea all the way.

Next to Price is Gaz, who sits completely doubled over on himself. He tries to hide his grimace under the brim of his faded, blue ball cap but its no use. Despite the rushing wind and the crackling commands of the comms, you can make out his grunts of pain. A sudden jolt of turbulence makes him press a firm palm to his lower belly. He grits his teeth so hard his lips quirk up and you can see the gleam of his teeth. He crinkles his nose in disgust and discomfort.

Farther down on the bench sits Soap, who is (for better or for worse) completely passed out. He leans against Ghost, a thick dribble of saliva spilling out of the corner of his mouth. You cringe at the realization he’s probably going to puke upon being woken up. But, its probably why Ghost has his arm wrapped protectively around Soap’s shoulders. His arm position keeps the unconscious man upright, but also keeps him out of the predicted splashzone.

Speaking of Ghost, his eyes are wide and bloodshot, and his chest seems to heave with every breath. The two of you share a moment of eye contact before another wave of stomach cramps hit you. With every internal muscle you own, you force your body to keep your fluids inside you. It hurts so inconceivably bad, but thankfully the moment passes and you get a brief moment of relief. You don’t have much longer before you inevitably shit your pants, but hopefully you’ll have enough time to get to the bathroom.

Through heavy breaths you glance around again. Price is the only one who’s situation seems to have changed. His hand sits on his thigh, balled up in a tight fist. He seems to focus on it, for a moment before releasing his grip. He shakily exhales.

This is not good.

Nikolai comes on the comms again. Finally, it’s landing time. Everyone but Soap perches on the edge of their seats, fingers twitching at their seatbelt release buttons. You try really hard to think about your next plan of attack. The closest bathrooms from the helipad would be the men’s. If you remember correctly, they only have four stalls which are usually occupied. The women’s bathrooms are on the other side of the barracks. If you ran like hell you’d probably make it, but you’d most certainly disturb your fellow females with the very uncomfortable symphony of your body turning itself inside out. Then you have it. The best idea in your God forsaken life.

The rec-room restroom.

The rec-room was for 141 enjoyment alone, and thusly, the bathroom. There were two stalls (for male and female, but it didn’t really matter). If you were fast enough you could probably beat out Soap and Gaz. You were certain that both Price and Ghost were going to make a beeline for their personal quarters. Neither man seemed like the type to let their weakness show to their team.

The heli lands.

In a flash, seatbelts and kits are undone and tossed away. Ghost smacks Soap’s chest with the back of his hand. The Scot jolts upright, covers his mouth, then throws himself out of the still whirring aircraft. Everyone watches through their frenzied movements as Soap is the first to break. He trips and falls off the concrete helipad and into the grass surrounding it. He gets up onto his hands and knees, then vomits so hard his body shakes.

You feel a spasm in the back of your throat at the sight, but swallow it down. You will NOT be puking in the heli. In fact, you weren’t going to let yourself puke at all. Absolutely not.

Price is the first one out. You’ve never seen the man unsteady, and yet, you see him skip a step on the way down. A poor sergeant tries to greet him, but is pushed aside with a firm hand to the chest. Price would never do something like that unless…he wasn’t going to make it?

You stand there in shock for a moment, but then are nearly sent tumbling out of the heli. Gaz practically bowls you over as he runs after your Captain. He didn’t apologize either. You nearly grab at his collar and jerk him backwards out of annoyance, but opt to be the bigger person.

Okay. Show time.

The poor Sergeant winces as you stagger up to him. You ask him to send Soap to sick-bay, and to alert the medical staff that the whole team would be headed there at some point. He seems nervous, and so, despite your discomfort, you offer him a smile and a pat on the shoulder as you shuffle away. He visibly softens, then immediately rushes to Soap’s aid. You breathe out a sigh of relief. Of course, despite having to shit just as bad as the rest of them, you have to be the adult in this situation. Oh well, you know you’ll make it.

Just as you thought, Ghost was missing, probably already half-way back to his room. You throw yourself into overdrive. You zip through the back hallways and up the steps to the back of the barracks. Your boots skid on the old linoleum as you round the corner to the rec-room. You can hear the sounds of Gaz’s retching echoing through the hall. Just as you reach for the handle to the empty bathroom stall, a pair of hands grab you hard by the waist.

You scream. Mostly out of shock, but also of discomfort, as the movement causes your stomach contents to shift violently. You claw and kick at the man at your back, but it’s no use. You recognize his skeleton gloves in a heartbeat.

You elbow him hard enough he grunts but he doesn’t let go as he wrestles you out of the way. You cry at him, asking him why he can’t just go to his room. He doesn’t answer, but instead, jerks you towards the wall opposite the stall. You slip and fall, shoulder hitting the concrete. You hiss in pain but watch helplessly as the larger man slams open the stall and steps into it.

“Ain’t gonna make it.”

He then slams the door closed, the lock clicking shut.

You would’ve cried if not for the worst wave of cramps you’d ever felt. You double over and try desperately to clench your sphincters shut. Like hell you were going to let yourself shit your pants here on the rec-room floor. Fuck Ghost. If you had it in you, you’d shit on his bed for this fuck shit.

You breathe hard, centering yourself until the accursed wave finally leaves you. You know that if you don’t find a bathroom by the next wave, its all over. You think hard. You try desperately to locate a clean, out of the way bathroom using your fried brain’s mental map. You bite your bottom lip. You’ve got it!

You don’t remember the run to sick bay but you do remember crashing into the nurse’s desk. The head nurse seems to know exactly what your problem is. She uses her keys to unlock an unassuming closet at the end of the hall. You nearly cry for joy at the sight of the perfectly clean, porcelain throne. You don’t even think about closing the door as you shuck off your sweaty fatigues. The nurse, thankfully, locks the door from the outside as your ass hits the toilet seat. Right as the final wave of cramps hit you and you see God, your brain can only think of two things.

One, you’re never going to eat MREs again.

And two, you’re totally going to shit on Ghost’s bed for this.

[whateveriwant]

The 141 helping you build IKEA furniture

Price

"I don't need instructions," he says, confidently tossing the assembly packet aside

…Only to realize not even ten minutes later that he does, in fact, need the instructions

If he isn't the poster boy for 'Dad that makes you hold the flashlight while he works' then I don't know what is

"Hand me the drill bit." … "No, the drill bit." … "That's a screw."

In the end, he builds it more or less entirely on his own (but he'll make sure to give you a firm pat on the back for all the hard work you did today, champ)

Ghost

Unlike Price Actually doesn't need instructions (but isn't afraid to refer to them if necessary)

Pretty much completely takes over the moment he walks in, relegating you to sit and watch quietly from the sidelines

Gets it done in like an hour and a half, maybe two hours tops, and it's immaculate. Truly showroom worthy

While he's here, do you have anything else that needs fixing? A leaky faucet? Maybe a loose floorboard?

You know what, he's just gonna have a look around and see what else needs tending to (What can I say? The man's good with his hands)

Gaz

Isn't who he'd call if he were in your shoes, but he's more than happy to lend a hand if you need

But he's not coming over just to help. No, he's making it a whole thing: ordering pizza, drinking beer, and jamming out to some tunes

He'd be the first to have you as an active participant rather than just sitting on the side handing him stuff

He might get frustrated once or twice during the build, but when he excuses himself to the restroom, he's definitely not covering up his screams with the tap running full blast, nuh-uh

When all's said and done, you're left with four extra screws and a couple washers, but hey, if it works, it works, right?

Soap

Is just as clueless as you are when it comes to this stuff

Probably spends the first 20-30 minutes searching up online tutorials, only to get sidetracked by the goofy names some of these products have

"Och, not a fartyg!" he guffaws, wiping a stray tear from his eye. "Sounds like Ghost's nickname after eatin' one too many beans on toast."

Cut to two hours later and you're both sitting on the ground, surrounded by loose pieces, scratching your heads like a couple of dumb monkeys

Ultimately, you'll end up having to call one of the other guys to come over and build the damn thing for you

[httpscomexe]

Forbidden Secret Desire

Summary: You just can’t seem to find yourself in this stupid school for freaks, but just when you’re sure no one cares anymore, a man with adamantium claws disturbs your groaning with a promise. Except he forgot to mention everything good comes with a price.

(Find What I’m currently writing by checking my pinned post)

Parings: Logan Howlett x Reader

Warnings: (Individual warnings per chapter) Anxiety, hints to violence, loneliness, I guess angst, manipulation (The reader is helpless and will look for anything to make her happy), some hints towards suggestive material near the end, bad language word use, pet names.

Word Count: 3523 (Find all chapters here) Chapter 2

P.S. If you’d like to be tagged, ask in the comments, you also have permission to send an ask, but make sure it is NOT anonymous, so I know your username, don’t worry, I’m scared of confrontation too. But this is a SAFE SPACE where I will not judge. Thank you again.

Xavier's Mansion.

Also known as the school for “Gifted Youngsters,” or simply for what society prefers to call, “Freaks.”

You’d been there for a few months. You have a very unique power, something even Xavier himself doesn’t understand how to control.

You get these looks all the time when you're walking in the halls of the mansion. You notice it when people cover their mouths to whisper about you and you can’t not notice it when you seem to create a bubble around you as some of the kids try to keep a distance.

Yea, it hurts. You couldn’t deny that either. Sometimes you’d even have to find a restroom really fast to cry to yourself in one of the stalls, but even that hurts when some of the students quickly flood out of the restroom after you enter.

Nobody knew how much it hurt you, nobody even knew what powers you really had. If they did, you would’ve already been sent to the ice box, but luckily, you didn’t know how to use your more dangerous powers. You figured Xavier probably knew about them, considering he can read your mind and he knows just exactly how powerful you really were, but he didn’t know if you knew about them. And what you don’t know, can’t hurt you.

The hardest part was going to class. While everyone else had a table of four people, you sat alone. You did every project alone, with high soaring grades by the way, and you never got to speak to anyone during discussion or free time before the bell rang.

Sometimes you wish you were just… normal.

Of course, you weren’t the only person that was avoided. There were a few other students and even some of the adults that were always avoided. The only true friend you seemed to have was Hank McCoy. Everyone used to fear him, thinking that he couldn’t control the “Beast,” so he knows how you feel. But sometimes it only felt like he tolerated you because you were smart, and you were the only student that could aid him in building anything related to tech, and nanotech, and coding, and all that good stuff.

“Have you figured out why it isn’t working?” Was the first thing he asked you as you walked into his lab. Not a good morning, no how’s class, and not even hello. “I was thinking it had something to do with our maths, that maybe we calculated something wrong but I’ve looked over it again and again and couldn’t find a single thing wrong with it.” He tells you, picking up his notebook which you could see was now full of mathematical equations and random scribbles which seemed to radiate with frustration.

“I don’t think we got the maths wrong, I’ve checked it about a thousand times.” You say quietly, then gently put your bag full of books down under one of his desks so it wasn’t in the way. “Pretty sure it just needs to be smaller. Nothing really about maths though. Other than that, the fibres need to be smaller.”

“So it is the maths?”

“Eh, kind of.” You groan a little and stretch before grabbing a small, delicate pair of tweezers. “This is still too big.” You tell him, placing a sample of part of your tech down under a microscope, strong enough you’re surprised it couldn’t see atoms. “See, this is about as thick as a piece of hair, which is about the size of…” You sigh, looking back at your maths. “It’s about 50,000 nanoparticles, so not a lot, but we need it to be a little smaller.” You tell him, then look away from the small bit of tech to look up at him, his eyes squinted in your direction as is he was trying to understand what you were saying. “Okay I’ll dumb it down. It’s about as thick as a piece of hair right now, we need to numb it down to about… only one hundred nanoparticles, so it should be about as thick as graphene.”

“What’re you two nerds going on about now?” Another voice cuts into your explanation. It was none other than the gruffy voice of Wolverine.

“Oh hey, Logan.” Hank abandons the workstation to go over Logan who was making himself some coffee. “Just figuring out something about nano…”

“Nanoparticles.” You finish his sentence.

“Yea, that.” He says plainly, not bothering to look at you as you turn away from their conversation and look through the microscope.

“Now how do I make you that small…” You whisper to yourself, gently lifting the particle string with your delicate tweezers and examining it through the microscope. “Hmm…” You hum to yourself.

“Y/N!” Hank calls for you, and you turn around. “I’m going out to pick up some lunch for the both of us. What would you like? I’m getting Mexican.” You tell him what you would like, and he takes a moment to clean his work area and stuff his wallet in his pocket before he finally leaves. Leaving you to stand by your desk, doing all the work that has to do with nanotech, but also leaving the Wolverine with you.

“So what exactly are you two working on?” You hear his voice behind you, then you see him next to you.

“Teleportation. Not as complicated as you think, it’s just the fear that gets to everyone really.” You look away from your work, and your eyes land on him. His arms crossed as he leaned on a nearby table, showing enough respect to not sit on your working table.

“Seems complicated. What could possibly be scary about it though? It's just teleportation.”

“Well. If you think deeper into it. Your body and every single atom and particle of your body has to be completely broken down into an uncountable amount of smaller pieces and then your body has to rebuild itself in the secondary location, you just have to hope that it rebuilds you correctly. Or the next thing you know half your right arm is also half of your left leg with toes for fingers.” You say without taking a breath, taking a deep breath after letting it all out. Staring back up at him, his eyes were now squinted in confusion.

“I don’t think anyone is scared of that except you. I’ve never even thought about that.” He shrugs, taking a sip of his scalding hot black coffee.

“Yea well… I’ve had a lot of time to think about a lot of things.” You tell him through gritted teeth, mumbling before grabbing your notebook.

“You know…” He pauses, placing his hot coffee mug on another table away from your work before walking back up next to you, placing his palms on your table where there wasn’t electronic junk lying around. “You aren’t the only one.”

“The only one?” You question, turning and grabbing another tool before looking under your microscope, turning the string around to try and figure out how to break it into a smaller piece, without actually breaking it.

“The only one that’s feared.”

You stop what you’re doing, still looking into the microscope but not actually paying attention to what was right in front of your eyes.

“I’ve seen the way some of the other kids look at you, bub. Like there’s something wrong with you. I know how it feels to not fit in.” He crosses his arms as he leans against your table, attempting to get your full attention. He clears his throat before speaking again. “I’ve seen you in the halls. Your name is Y/N, right?” You nod, his eyes and yours locked onto each other. “Logan.” He says, reaching his hand out to shake yours. Your hand basically gets engulfed by his as your soft hand meets his, which were rough and still yet soft, that surprised you, considering… “Hank talks about you a lot also. Not like he loves you or anything, he just tells me you’re smart. Like really smart.” He shrugs.

“Hm…” You hum a little. This is the first conversation you’ve had with someone in this school where they’ve actually treated you like a real human.

“Considering the way you explain this stuff, I’d say he’s probably right about you being smart.” He nodded towards the nanoparticles still sitting under your microscope, it was hard to see from even a foot away considering it was the width of a single piece of hair. “So what exactly is a nanoparticle? Or nano…”

“Nanoparticle" is correct. It just like a piece of tech or anything made of tech like certain fibers that can be visible to the naked eye but they’re very small. Just this one piece is the width of 50,000 nanoparticles.” You carefully pick up the string, and gently put it in it’s container.

“And what was that other thing you mentioned earlier?”

“Graphene?”

“Yea.”

“It’s made of about 50 to 100 nanoparticles, and it can be seen with the naked eye through a refraction of light in a mirror or clear substance that has a bend in it.”

“I’m not completely sure what any of that means. But I trust you know what you’re doing.”

“Yea, I’m kind of a nerd.” You chuckle awkwardly, then reach down to pull your bag over your shoulder, your social battery is pretty much near zero for the day, or maybe week. This was you first time ever speaking to Wolverine and you just nerd out on him? What were you thinking?

“Alright, I got food. Where are you heading?” Hank finally comes back, a bag full of boxes with the three of your foods in them in his right hand as he enters the lab, letting the metal door close behind him.

“I’ve got a bit of a headache, I was gonna go back to my room.”

“Well you know the rules. No food in the rooms.”

“Yea, yea. I know.” You sigh, setting your bag back down as he hands you your box of food and you hop onto one of the clean counters to sit down as you eat your food.

“Have you seen Xavier today?” He asks Logan, handing him his food also.

“No, he’s out on some special mission with Mystique right now, won’t be back for about another week.”

“And what does he have you doing? You never leave your room so I’m assuming he's’ got you doing something?” Hank stands next to Logan as they both talk back and forth.

“He has me teaching his third class and fifth class. I guess that one is the anger management class and the other is meditation.”

“Ah, so he’s got you teaching the two classes you used to fail in.”

“Ironic, isn’t it?”

After working in the lab, a lot shorter than usual, you actually head back to your room. You hate to admit it, but you’ve been ecstatic to meet Wolverine for years, and when you finally get to have a conversation with him, you just geek out on him about nanotech?

As you hang your bag on the wall and remove your jacket only to throw it on the back of your desk chair, you can’t help but want to just smash your head on a wall until you’ve forgotten about everything that’s happened today.

You mope as you walk into the centre of your small room, stopping and staring at the mess on your desk, a bunch of full notebooks covered in little pen markings of maths and science that no one else in the school would understand.

You walk to the desk, take one of the notebooks in your hand that had some free space left, and drop down on your bed. Reaching behind your head, you pull your sweater over your head and discard it on the floor before leaning against your headboard and clicking the back of your pencil until the led is at your desired length.

As soon as the tip of the led touches the paper, your mind wanders. That was so embarrassing… You realise, scribbling random maths into your notebook. I can’t believe I just made a professor hate me too… Not only had you dissociated, but you also completely nerded out. You talked about nanoparticles as if it was the only thing you cared about. You care about more though. You care about the family that was so scared of you they sent you off to this stupid school, calling you a freak and breaking all ties with you. No, you don’t care about them. But you care about your friends so much! You don’t have any friends. Hank is very special to you, he holds a space in your heart. A very, very small space. Yea he doesn’t care about you, you’ve just been able to make about a thousand breaks in his experiments. Then of course he would take all of the credit when he would show it to Professor X.

Why do you even try? I guess working with Hank is the equivalent of the other students going out to the mall with their friends. The only difference is he wasn’t your friend.

You take it back, you had one friend. If you could even call someone you only text cause you’re too scared for actual confrontation, a friend. Nightcrawler- or Kurt. The one guy who’s ever made an actual effort to try and be your friend, he’s just always out on missions. Or so that’s what his actual friends tell you. Maybe you should send him a text and actually verify whether he hates you or not… You get up from your bed and unzip your bag, sticking your hand into the pocket where you always shove your phone, but it’s not there. What the fuck? You take your bag off it’s hook and search the rest of the pockets, and still no phone. You go to your bed, searching under the covers and getting on your knees to check under the bed, still no phone. You check your desk, your discarded sweater, and you sweep the floor with your eyes looking for it, thinking it might’ve just fallen out of your pocket. You hate seeming desperate for a simple device that rots your brain to default, but God that phone is your escape.

“Hey, is everything alright-?” A voice cuts into your messy search as you turn around and your door is cracked just enough for him to stick his head in.

“Sorry, Mr. Howlett, I just can’t find my phone.” You chuckle awkwardly, standing in the centre of your room as he peeks around your room at the mess you’ve created.

“Again, you can call me Logan. I don’t mind it, I prefer it actually. Do you mind if I step in?”

“Yea, it’s fine. Sorry for the mess, I haven’t really had time to clean it.” You nervously link your fingers together in front of you and let your thumb pick at your skin as he comes in, closing the door gently behind him.

“It’s not a mess, just a sweater on the floor and notebooks on the bed.” Sweater on the floor. Of course. Yea, you were standing in the centre of your room, in your shorts and a black fucking clasp on bra. Now you suddenly feel naked standing in front of him, so you cross your arms, hoping to hide at least some of the embarrassment.

“Well uh, what’s up?” You try sounding cool but immediately cringe.

“You left this in the lab.” He tells you, then reaches into his pocket and pulls out your phone, handing it to you backside up, so you could see the glittery phone case, adorned with pink sparkles. “Was gonna give it to you in class but you kids go crazy over your phones.”

“Oh I wouldn’t go crazy…” You tell him, humour in your voice as you awkwardly look around your room, the sheets halfway off the bed and your pillows tossed in the middle, the result in the crazy search for your phone. “Would just be a little annoyed…”

“So is everything okay?”

“Yea, why do you ask?”

“I was knocking on your door and sayin’ your name. but you didn’t answer.”

“Oh,” You laugh dryly. “Sorry, sometimes I get lost in my head and kinda just block out all sounds and sometimes I’ll block out what’s in front of me."

“Oh I see.” What do I say to respond to that? “What were you working on?” Why is he still here?

“Honestly, I don’t know, I was just scribbling.”

“Had enough maths for the day?” He jokes.

“Had enough maths for the month.” You mumble, but then he laughs. A short laugh. But a laugh nonetheless. Isn’t he annoyed by you? Why is he still- “What would you be doin’ if Hank didn’t have you doing all this brain stuff?” Oh.

“Well uh, nothing probably.”

“Not one for hanging out with your friends?”

“Friends? Hah!” You laugh with sarcasm, then walk over to your discarded sweater, bending over to pick it up, deciding to distract yourself with cleaning. “It's not easy for a freak to make friends.” You mumble to yourself, hoping he wouldn’t hear, of course, he did.

“You’re not a freak.” He crosses his arms as you look over your shoulder at him.

“Yea sure. Everyone in the school would so easily disagree with you on that.” You say back, folding the sweater before tossing it into your dirty laundry basket. “Professor X won’t even let me leave the school because he doesn’t trust me. I’m sure you’re no different.” Shit that was supposed to be said in your head. Stupid, stupid, stupid. You’d smack yourself right now if it wouldn’t make you look stupid, if he wasn’t in your room still.

“So you think everyone’s the same?” He asks, more of a statement.

“No I- I don’t mean it like that. I just-” He clears his throat.

“Come here.” He demands, looking into your fucking soul. So of course, with a gaze as threatening as his. You stand right in front of him after you walk up to him like Bambi in a traffic headlight. Wobbly, and frozen. “Good, now look at me.” Oh, you forgot that part.

You looked away from his shirt, and tilted your head back to look up into his eyes and for a man who’s so adept at killing his eyes were so soft, and broken…

“If you didn’t randomly blank out, you would’ve also heard Xavier when he told you the only time you could leave, is if it’s with someone else in case there’s an emergency.”

“Emergency from what? Me losing my temper?”

“Exactly that.” Is what shuts you up. “When I said I know how you’re feeling, I meant it.” His voice softens, and you feel your throat knot as you hold back embarrassing tears. “It wasn’t easy for me to make friends either, but honestly I prefer to be in a small crowd. Normally I’m not the one to comfort a student, but you just don’t seem to want to talk to anyone. Why’s that?”

“I’ve tried talking to people. They just give me a look and then walk away.”

“Does that actually happen? Or is that just what it feels like?”

Shit. You hate to admit it, but he makes a point.

What the fuck. Was your next thought as his hand moved up and he gently placed his hand on your cheek.

“I know you hate everyone at this school from the fucking bottom of your heart, but I’m gonna have you try to refrain from hating me. We can strike a deal by letting me take you out of the mansion. I’m sure you’d love to get out, can’t remember the last time you left.”

“Never have.” You whisper, shrugging your shoulders. Your voice is only quiet so your tears aren’t cascading down your face.

“Well if you can just promise to behave, and tell me when you’re getting stressed, then I’ll supervise you like Xavier wants.” He tells you, promising some sort of freedom. “I’m not saying I’m scared of you. If anyone is scared of what you can do, it’s you. Am I right?” You nod. “Use your words, bub.”

“Yea…” Your voice cracks as you barely mutter an entire word.

“Hey, hey…” He says softly, then he suddenly pulls you into a hug. “I’ve got you.” He gently rubs your back, which by the way is still bare since you never got to throw on another shirt. “Just cancel your plans with Hank, I can help you more than he ever will…”

He promises. His fingers gently run over the metal clasps on the back of your bra as you loosely wrap your arms around him, embracing his hug and you nod, not able to formulate any more words as you cry quietly against his chest, your tears wetting his shirt as you both stand there in silence. A quiet smirk on his face as he holds onto you…

[kingkatsuki]

— when he catches you crying

Masterlist.

Warnings: none (although not proofread soz.)

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader.

Word Count: 1.8k.

There were some days where being Dynamight’s secretary weren’t always perfect. Thousands of people online wished they could be where you are right now, a position that had you working closely with the number two hero, and of course you were thankful. But some days you just wished time would speed up and you could go home and climb into bed. Daydreaming about having some sort of time-changing quirk so you wouldn’t have to put up with those terrible work days, and instead speed through them.

Being the number two hero meant that he was constantly in demand. Whether it was companies trying to get ahold of him for collaborations, agencies hoping to get Dynamight to team up on missions, brand ambassadors trying to send him a slew of freebies from clothing to charcuterie boards or the media hoping to get the first scoop the phone was constantly ringing off the hook.

Luckily for you most of these calls were intercepted lower down, the Dynamight PR team were always quick to filter out the quality calls and give courteous, personalised responses each time. But that didn’t mean the ones that finally managed to reach your floor, his floor, were any kinder. Having a timed appointment call with the Pro didn’t actually mean you’d manage to get him on the line, as most people in the industry had now leaned Dynamight worked on his schedule, no one else’s. And most of the time callers were sympathetic to you, but not always.

You’d had to apologise to a brand for Dynamight being unavailable at the appointed time, a last minute meeting with Pro-Hero Hawks meant that he was now stuck inside his office for the foreseeable. Something that you knew irked Bakugou to no end, knowing he’d probably rather take this mundane call than spend more than five minutes alone with the feathered hero. But work was work, and while he was being supposedly tortured inside, you were now subject to a slew of insults on the phone with the head of the company.

Usually you’d just hang up at this point, the insults you faced not worth whatever price they were willing to pay for Dynamight’s face on their posters. But you were already having a bad day, and the words came hard and fast. No matter how polite you tried to be, they cut deep. Feeling your throat begin to tighten as pearly tears clung to your lash line, threatening to spill down your cheeks. You slammed the phone down in irritation as you pushed the chair back from your desk, leaving without another thought as you went to compose yourself in the bathroom.

It wasn’t long after that Bakugou stepped out of his office, noticing the disappointed look on Hawks face when he’d moved directly towards your desk to bid you a farewell (and probably flirt with you for the next fifteen minutes, Bakugou supposed), and noticed you were no longer there.

The phone sat ringing unanswered and you always told him when you were going on lunch or leaving the floor, even if it was just a sweet little email. Rolling his eyes at Hawks teasing when he noticed Bakugou’s expression diminish slightly too as he stepped into the elevator.

“That’s a shame, I was hoping to take her to lunch after our little meeting,” Hawks grinned, “Tell her I said goodbye, yeah?”

Fucking prick. Bakugou seethed as he went towards the end of the hall to ask one of your co-workers where you’d gone, hearing that you’d had a pretty shitty phone call and you’d made your way to the women’s bathrooms on the floor below.

Ignoring his schedule, he made his way towards the stairs. Retracing your footsteps as he found the door to the ladies restrooms and ignored the writing on the front as he shoved it open to step inside. Thankful that it seemed to be empty, aside from the muffled sobs coming from one of the stalls. A sound that seemingly quietened as the door opened, clearly trying to hide yourself away from anyone listening to you.

“Hey,” Bakugou knocked on the door lightly as he leaned against the door, his signature boots visible to you beneath as your eyes widened in surprise that your boss had found you like this, in the women’s bathroom no less.

“You shouldn’t be in here,” You sniffled, dabbing the paper tissue against your wet cheeks, “It’s the womens—”

“Yeah, I fuckin’ know.” His voice came out rougher than he’d intended, the sound had fresh tears welling in your eyes as you thought you’d upset him even more by leaving your desk unmanned.

“I’ll be back up in a sec, I’m sorry for leaving the phone ringing I’ll—” Your throat was hoarse as you rambled your apologies to him, the guilt swirling in your abdomen as you tried to blink back the pearly wet tears.

“Stop it, that ain’t why I’m here.” He scoffed, “Just open the door.”

“I’ll just be a few minutes, I’ll see you back in the office.” You were certain you probably looked awful. Your mascara was definitely lined down your cheeks if the darkened tissue was anything to go by, and your eyes were surely red.

“Open the door, sweetheart.” He continued, “I just wanna make sure you’re alright.”

“I’m fine.” You mumbled.

“Don’t lie to me,” He whispered, “I wanna know what’s got my secretary sobbin’ in the toilet before midday.”

“It’s nothing, honestly.” You didn’t even know how to tell him that a random stranger on the phone made you cry, especially when you should’ve been thicker skinned working below the number two.

“I could get forty grievances against me for this, you know. Dynamight in the fuckin’ ladies.” Bakugou smiled slightly as you couldn’t help but huff out a small laugh on the other side, “So I think you can tell me what’s wrong.”

You were silent inside the stall as Bakugou lay the side of his head against the door, trying to listen to you as he tried one final time to get you to come out.

“Was it me?” He mumbled, and you felt your stomach drop that he could even think it was something he’d done.

“No!” You retorted swiftly.

“So what was it?” He continued.

You weren’t even sure what to tell him, you’d cried over a stupid clothing brand, or whatever it was he was trying to sell. You should be stronger as Dynamight’s secretary, have thicker skin, not cry over any random stranger that’s mean to you on the phone.

“Come on, sweetheart. Please?” He murmured gruffly, “I know people think I’m a fuckin’ asshole but I ain’t about to leave without checkin’ on you. Let me see that you’re alright and I’ll leave you alone, yeah?”

You hated the way your body reacted to him, even like this he had your heart pounding against your ribcage as you sniffled, wiping your cheeks a final time as you moved to open the door.

Bakugou was leaning against the doorframe casually as worried crimson eyes looked down at you, his brows were still furrowed deeply as though he was irritated at you and this made fresh tears well in your eyes as you tried to look to the ground.

“‘m sorry.” Your bottom lip trembled as you felt the hot tears begin to stream down your face again, but what happened next shocked you even more.

“C’mere, shitty woman.” Bakugou’s forearm reached up to circle around your neck, bringing your entire frame against his as he pressed your face into his chest. The comforting touch had your tears freely flowing as you soaked the soft, probably expensive, fabric of his shirt. But he didn’t seem to care, his other hand still buried inside his pants pocket as he held you steady against him, eventually resting his chin on the top of your head as he let you cry.

“That’s it, sweetheart.” He hummed, “Let it all out.”

Bakugou knew what it was like to cry alone, the isolation and the ache it caused as his chest heaved and throat tightened. The sheer number of times he’d wished someone was there for him, to pat his back and tell him it would be okay, and seeing the woman he was so desperately in love with the same way, hurt.

And you let yourself cry, the tears immediately soaking into him as the damp material of his shirt stuck to your cheeks, the scent of him comforting as you sniffed to try and inhale every part of it. Letting yourself melt into him as he swayed slightly while you cried into his chest in the bathroom.

Once the tears stopped falling you pulled back with bleary eyes, your head throbbing slightly from the length of time you’d been crying as he gave you a lazy, close lipped smile.

“There she is,” He murmured, resisting the urge to reach up with calloused thumbs and wipe the final few tears away, “Can’t believe you got me in the girls bathroom.”

You felt guilty at that, knowing that he was supposed to be taking a phonecall from Pro-Hero Deku right now before he went into his afternoon patrol.

“Take the rest of the day,” He cut you off before you’d even had a moment to utter your first objection, your mouth still agape as you readied to speak, “I ain’t taking no for an answer, grab your shit and get out.”

He sounded harsh, but you could hear the softness to his voice as he stepped away from you, grimacing when you noticed your makeup staining his shirt as he moved to leave the bathrooms.

“And you get me personally if that fucker ever calls back again, yeah?”

What he’d really wanted to say was, he’d take every single grievance he got for this just to make sure that you were okay, because you were more important than any of that.

“Thanks, Dynamight.” You mumbled, watching him leave the ladies restroom as you stepped towards the sinks to clean your face. Grimacing when you caught sight of just how awful you looked when you met your reflection in the mirror.

What you didn’t know was that same afternoon, Bakugou got a call from the same company that had berated you and made you cry. Leaning back in his chair as he listened to the man ramble on the phone about how excited they’d be to work with a Hero such as Dynamight, and the plans they had in mind. But Bakugou told them he’d never work for them, and he would ensure every hero in the top twenty would do the same. Because no amount of money was worth it after he’d seen you cry.

[steviewashere]

If Found, Return to Me

Rating: General CW: Implied Sex (Mild), Mild Panic Attacks Tags: Post Canon, Post Season 4, Established Relationship, Humor and Hijinks, Eddie Munson is a Little Shit, Steve Harrington is a Little Shit, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mild Panic Attacks, Dork Eddie Munson, Dork Steve Harrington, 3+1

Okay, the idea was going to be a 5+1, but I couldn't get past three ideas without feeling the crawl of burn-out, so I lowered it to three. But this is based on This Post from @apomaro-mellow

👕—————👕 1. He grips the hem of his shirt and tugs. Chin tucked into his neck so that he can read the text, which is bold and black and dark on the white background. ‘If found, return to Steve.’ Eddie groans. “Do we seriously have to wear these?” He whines.

Steve stands in front of him. Hands on his hips. One foot cocked. “Yes, Eddie,” he answers emphatically. Even a little annoyed. Which, sue Eddie for having to ask over and over, but it’s sort of embarrassing. Especially when his boyfriend is wearing a similar shirt that just reads: ‘I’m Steve’. Makes Eddie look sort of childish, if you were to ask him. “If I’m taking you out of town, to a place I’ve never been before for a convention—something I’d probably never even go to—you absolutely have to wear that shirt. Knowing you, you’ll see some action figure stand and I’ll be abandoned by the comic books.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Or, y’know, we can just link arms and walk around the convention center?” Steve only widens his eyes and raises an eyebrow. He groans again. “Okay, fine! We’ll wear these stupid t-shirts.” His head tilts back, eyes to the ceiling of their hotel. Huffs through his nose. “I don’t even know how you got these,” he grumbles, “I’d rather not know.”

Sure, Eddie’s prone to running off. He gets excited, okay? Especially when it’s something he knows a lot about, or something he’s been hunting down for literal years, or if it’s a thing he can surprise the people around him with. Thinking of the last time he wandered off and Steve had to practically scruff him, it’d been while he was purchasing a dice set for Dustin’s birthday. So maybe Steve has a point. And maybe it’s sort of a genius idea. Eddie just wants to be stubborn about this, it’d save him the humiliation.

Except, he’s still wearing the shirt (Steve in his matching one) when they finally get through the doors of the convention center. There’s people in costumes all around them: Spock and Kirk, Marty McFly, Indiana Jones, Predator, and a few kids with their dads all dressed like those ponies that Erica likes. Something in Eddie trills. And he’s already a few steps ahead of Steve before he knows it. Steve trails behind him, wonder and awe shining in his own eyes, trying to keep up with Eddie’s frantic nature.

But then they’re not even close to each other. They buy lunch a couple hours in. Steve gets a large lemonade and downs it like he’s never had something to drink before. And then Eddie’s being told, “Please wait here by the bathrooms. Don’t go do anything stupid.”

He’s leaning against the wall that reads: ‘Restrooms’. Arms intertwined over his chest. Legs crossed on one another. In the distance, his eyes lock onto a Dungeons & Dragons booth. There’s tall shelves stocked with every mini figure he could ever pray for. A few long tables that showcase various maps, dungeon master screens, and little trays for dice. However, there’s an odd rack in the booth. A hat stand. And on it, he spots the perfect thing for Steve. It’s probably expensive, Eddie debates with himself, but it’s Indiana Jones’ hat. His feet are moving before he registers the people walking past him.

And then he’s there. Holding a classic fedora hat between his hands. Turning it around in his hold. Thumbing at the material; marveling at how smooth and buttery soft the fabric is. He spots the price tag, ‘$8.00’. It’s not a terrible price. Isn’t damaged in any way. So he keeps it in his left hand, grabs a paladin mini figure in his right, and purchases both items. Bag in hand, he moves to leave the booth, but is stopped by a gentle hand tapping on his right shoulder.

He turns and is met with a girl. She’s level with his chest, eyes wide and calculating, hand retreating back to her side. “Hi—um—you don’t know me at all, but I found somebody named Steve looking for you,” she states, “I saw your shirt and figured you were the guy he was talking about.”

Eddie slumps. A part of him can’t believe the stupid shirt even worked. “Yeah, it’s probably me that he’s looking for,” he sighs. “Take me to him.”

She’s hard to follow in the crowd of people. Shorter than most and extremely quick. But she links his arm with hers and practically drags him back towards the bathrooms. And there he is, Steve Harrington with his hands on his hips, a furrow to his brow, mouth thin-lined. “Eddie,” Steve greets. He smiles, though it’s not all that sweet, but kind enough for this stranger that had to shepherd Eddie. The girl leaves them. And Steve steps closer to Eddie, crosses his arms over his chest, and then has the gall to snort. He raises a hand and plucks at Eddie’s t-shirt, directly on the word: ‘Found’. “Looks like my stupid t-shirt worked,” he snarks. The sass to this guy is unbelievable.

“Yeah, har har, laugh it up,” Eddie says dryly. “Maybe you don’t want the little gift I got for you.”

Steve perks up. Eyes glowing with curiosity. “What’d you get?”

Eddie rolls his eyes and smirks. Digs into his bag and flaunts the hat. “Saw it at a D&D booth, surprisingly. Probably would’ve been something we walked by, had I not…wandered.” He steps a little closer into Steve’s space, sets the hat on top of his head, and nods in approval. “Think that this purchase was a success. You look dashing, Mr. Jones.”

In a flurry of movement, Steve snatches the hat from off the top of his head. Gaping at it. “Eds,” he breathes, “this is so fucking cool.” He places it back where it was, pulling it tight to his hairline, and grins brightly. “Thank you, but also please don’t leave me alone here,” he says, “I got worried.”

“Sorry,” Eddie murmurs sheepishly. “Just thought about how excited you’d be about the hat and couldn’t resist. Won’t happen again, promise.”

Steve chuckles. “I know it will, but that’s what the stupid shirts are for. Anyway…Can we go look at the Lego set-up that we passed by in hall E? I think I saw a spaceship and—“

“Lead the way, Indy.” He might have to buy his own shirts with how Steve bounds away from him.

——— 2. “If…Lost?!” Eddie exclaims. “Steve, what the fuck? Why—How—Where the hell are you getting these t-shirts?” He asks. They’re at Steve’s house, getting ready for a day trip in Chicago. And, sure, Eddie’s never been in his life. Doesn’t know the streets of Chicago like the back of his hand. Maybe Steve does know more about where they’re going, but that doesn’t change just how ridiculous this shirt is. How it glares at him in the bathroom mirror.

Steve sidles up next to him. His t-shirt the same as the one from the convention. He wraps an arm around Eddie’s waist. Rests his head on his shoulder. “I have my ways,” he states ominously. “And, again, I know you. Your sense of direction is practically non-existent. You can’t deny that, baby. The only reason you found Skull Rock is because you stumbled upon it.”

“I was on the run, couldn’t exactly look at a map,” he grumbles. “But do we have to—“

“Yes,” Steve sighs. “Now, can you come out to the car with me? I’m ready to go.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, but does as he’s asked. Sits in the passenger seat. Shuffles through the radio stations. Teases Steve for his taste in tapes. But then they’re parking, getting out, walking around the city.

He follows Steve…for a while. Into a record shop. In the back of a diner, playing footsie under the table. Then he goes down a side street. Following a guy in a white t-shirt, hair high on his head, Adidas sneakers on his feet. However, the guy turns slightly. And…that’s not Steve. Eddie’s not sure how long he’s been following this stranger, or when he started, or from where he started from. Tries to rake through his brain to the last time he heard Steve talk about the street they were originally on, but there’s nothing. The words and names escape him.

He’s stranded in a city he’s never been to. Down a street he should’ve never come across. Wearing the most humiliating t-shirt known to mankind. Somewhere, again he’s not sure, behind him Steve is probably standing by some shop entrance, hands on his hips and a scowl perfectly framed on his face. And Eddie can’t help but panic. Standing with his back against the nearest wall. Breathing through his mouth like he’s about to beef it on the sidewalk. Eyes darting over and under and left and right. Trying to find semblance of normal, any little speckle of Steve. Something.

It’s not until he’s nearly sick to his stomach, churning and flipping and knotting, that a different stranger makes their presence known. They gently invade his space. Voice soft as they notice his panic. “Hey man, are you Eddie?” They ask. He nods way too quick, but sidelines the blur to his vision because talking to this stranger seems hopeful. Especially since they know his name. “Okay, cool,” the stranger mutters, “I ran into your…friend. Steve was on the verge of a nervous breakdown when I spotted him, said he couldn’t find you, but didn’t know where to look. So I volunteered to find you. And—well—judging by your shirt, I can gladly and safely reunite you guys. If you…If you wanna follow me.”

“Please,” Eddie murmurs, “I don’t know where I am.”

The trip back to Steve is arduous. Through crowds of people and past noisy cars. Bustling shops and the waft of various seasonings from a number of restaurants. But sure enough, Steve is on some precipice. His hair a mess and face pinched nervously. Then, he spots Eddie. Eyes lighting, clearing and glistening. A look of ‘I want to touch, but know I can’t.’

When he sidles up next to Steve after the stranger leaves, he carefully joins their hands. “I followed a complete stranger for probably thirty minutes,” Eddie admits, whispering. “His hair looked similar. And he was also wearing a white t-shirt. I got so scared, Steve.”

“Well, at least our stupid shirts worked again, right?” Steve asks, breathless and still verging breakdown.

Eddie squeezes their hands. “Can we go home, please? This is gonna sound crazy, but I think I prefer middle of nowhere Hawkins. At least I know where everything is.”

Steve nods rapidly. “I need to touch you in ways I can’t right now. Let’s go.” And then he tugs their hands, pulling them along sidewalks and through groups of people, down a couple side streets. It’s partially worth it, in the end. Definitely with the way Eddie’s skin is now decorated with Steve’s love, sticky and warm with it, too.

——— 3. The shirts end up following them to the Indiana State Fair.

Steve stops them at the front entrance, right after the ticket booth, and makes Eddie face him. “Listen to me,” he murmurs, voice low and near demanding. “If I turn my back for a second and you are gone, I will lose my absolute shit. Got it? Do not make me have to keep a rope tied to your belt loop.”

Eddie groans. “I get it, Steve. Can we at least try and enjoy ourselves?”

And they do for the most part. Steve plays at a few game stalls. Eddie carries the prizes. Their legs interlock underneath a picnic table, sharing greasy funnel cake and way too sour lemonade freezes. They watch a few performers, pet some fair animals, judge prized pigs like they know what they’re doing.

But then the ferris wheel comes up and Eddie sees an opportunity already forming. Like dots connecting or the stars aligning. He wants to drag Steve through the line and sit with him in one of the seats, wait for the wheel to stop at just the right height, and kiss him as the lights dim low and the darkness of the sky envelops them. Though, because he always misses a few steps in his plans, he doesn’t tell Steve that they’re going to the ferris wheel. Just starts walking. Shoving past other couples and accidentally sidelining a couple kids. He sneaks around large families. Maybe bribes a few people to let up on the ride’s queue.

Then, Eddie turns to his left. Where Steve is.

Or…Where Steve should have been.

“Shit,” Eddie spits. “Steve?” He calls over his shoulder. Frantically, he whips around in line. Eyes wide over people’s heads. Shoving them out of the way, albeit a little rough. Spreads the line into two little rows. But he comes up unsuccessful.

Until, right on cue, a stranger is tapping on his shoulder. Instead of letting them go into their whole spiel, he just sighs defeated, “Take me to him.”

There are no words exchanged. Not when Eddie follows behind, head bowed to the ground, dragging his feet like a petulant child. And then he stops where he sees Steve’s shoes, the bright blue Adidas sneakers he’d recognize anywhere.

“Sorry,” he mutters. “Thought you were with me.”

Steve just sighs. Something kind of disappointed that shrivels Eddie slightly. “Where’d you even go?” Steve calmly asks.

Eddie finally looks to him, his eyes pleading. “The ferris wheel, but…But! In my defense, I thought you were with me. And I was going to get us a seat on the ride. Was gonna wait until it got up to the highest point and do something cheesy like kiss you…or blow you, whatever. But I—“

“Why didn’t you just ask me, Eds?” Steve laughs with his full body, deep from within his stomach. “We can do that, babe. All you gotta do is ask, y’know?”

“I didn’t think—“

“I know you didn’t,” Steve teases. “Seems like my stupid t-shirt idea worked again. That’s three times, you dork.” Eddie can only groan. He knows that he has a bad habit of wandering, doesn’t mean that the idea is any less annoying or dumb. “Come on, Eds. Stop throwing a fit. Let’s do your thing.”

“You sure?”

“Eddie, if you don’t kiss or blow me on that ferris wheel, I’m banning D&D at my place for a month. Let’s go.”

When they get off and start walking back to the car, Steve tugs on the back of Eddie’s jeans. He yelps, startled, but quickly shuts his mouth when he’s faced with a stern look. “You know what I just remembered?” Steve asks him. There’s mirth in his eyes. Eddie doesn’t trust this at all. “Earlier, when I was telling you about wandering, I mentioned maybe tethering you to a rope. I might have to do that. Since you can’t behave.”

Eddie heats from the inside out. A coil tightens in his stomach. “You couldn’t even if you tried,” he bites back.

Later, he finds out, Steve is exceptional with rope. What a fucking boy scout.

——— +1 The Mall of America didn’t earn its title for nothing. The place was huge, that much Eddie could discern. Which made perfect sense when buying the new and improved: ‘If found, return to…’ shirts. However, this time, it was Steve with ‘If Found’ t-shirt.

At first, Steve didn’t know how to feel about the new shirts. Simply because he didn’t seem to see a reason for why he’d get lost or wander or be found in any capacity. But given the surprise Eddie had for him, the reason definitely fit the bill.

What Steve didn’t know, that Eddie one hundred percent knew, was that a Lego store was opening up at the mall. Or, has been opened at the mall. It was the perfect time for a little road trip. A little Fall of 1992 trip to Minnesota. Driving by trees and such. Parking in the Mall of America’s lot. Figuring out what stores to hit first, what food they wanted to eat, where the bathrooms were located. Typical day out sort of things.

However, one moment Steve was with him and the next…Eddie was scouring the food court for his fiancé. Trying not to throw up the meager lunch he just had. Swallowing down panic after panic after panic that rose in his chest like tsunami waves. This place was too big for either of them to wander or get lost or have a mind of their own. Not with the way they impulsively purchases things, an awful habit they both exuded—today is the worst day to do just that.

Which leads him to tapping on the shoulder of a guy around his age. Who’s carrying two large yellow Lego bags. Just sitting back in one of the food court chairs, minding his own business. Until, he whips around to find Eddie startled and red faced. “Uh…Can I help you, man?” The stranger greets.

“Sorry, hi,” Eddie says. “I just—You look like somebody who can maybe help me. I’m looking for my…friend, his name is Steve. Uh—White, around my height, dirty blonde hair. He’s wearing a pair of near skin tight Levi jeans, light wash and a white t-shirt that matches mine. Except, his says ‘If found, return to Eddie’. I’m Eddie, by the way. Anyway—Uh, you probably just came from the Lego store, yeah?”

“Sure,” the guy says, completely unsure of this interaction. “Why do you need to know—“

“So you can like lead me there? I’ve never been there. And like he’s really obsessed with those damn sets and like that’s really cool or whatever, but I need to know where he is because we’re from out of town and I have no fucking clue what I’m doing in this mall or where to—“

“Alright, dude, calm down,” guy placates. “We’ll find your friend. Just…That store is pretty fucking busy. Really popular, you know? I’ll take you there, but with how panicked you are, it would be best if you waited by the entrance of the store. Is that…”

“That’s perfectly fine to me!” Eddie nearly shouts. 

He follows on this person’s heels. Bobbing and weaving through crowds of other over-consumers. Maybe shoving a few of them out of the way just so he can stay with that guy. But eventually, they make it to the outside of the rather precarious Lego store. Its yellow storefront nauseating to Eddie. Almost—Genuinely frustrating him beyond belief. And he sees Steve. Standing near the back of the store. Staring up at one of the shelves, but he lets the stranger he found grab Steve for him. Because no way in hell is Eddie going to survive being swallowed up by the awfully large crowd swamping the store.

Steve emerges from the crowd, a bit offended and a lot upended. But then has the gall to appear sheepish when he’s led directly to Eddie. With a nod and a tight smile, Eddie waves the stranger off. Almost wants to run back and get his name, send him a thank you card from the Hallmark store he saw on their way there.

He turns to face Steve, though. Leans them into the wall. “Jesus, Steve,” Eddie groans. “Is this what you put up with?”

“Is what—“

“The fucking panic? The—The whirling around and checking in the weird obscure places? Tapping on stranger’s shoulders only to see if they have a single goddamn idea where anything is…ever? Like—“ He sighs. “I thought that I’d never find you, Steve! You could’a at least told me you were going to go somewhere on your own. Maybe give me an idea of where you’re going?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Oh, so now that’s important to you?” He petulantly mutters. “Can’t go off and have fun without being pestered—“

“I’m not pestering, Steve!” Eddie grits. “I’m being concerned! I’m—You scared me,” he admits quietly. “And you ruined my surprise.”

“Ruined?” Steve echoes, confused. “What do you…oh. Oh. I—“ Then, Steve looks down to the floor. Eyes ashamed and arms tight to his body. “I didn’t…I was just excited, I’m sorry. The store was on the directory when we first came in and I like—“ He chuckles a little bit, loosening up. “—I fucking memorized where to go. What path to take. Because I just really wanted to look in there. They’ve got—Eddie, they have this one set in there, it’s a freaking spaceship and it’s called the…The Galactic Meditator or something? I can’t—That doesn’t matter,” he rambles. Takes a deep breath and pushes himself tighter into Eddie’s space. “I’m sorry, baby,” he murmurs, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Eddie gives a single nod. Closes his eyes and staves off the rest of his panic and anger. He’d be a hypocrite if he lashed out right now. He knows that. And, honestly, seeing Steve geek out about toys…of all things…is kind of endearing. Maybe even doing something for Eddie.

He puts on his best smile, something genuine and pulled from within him. “It’s alright,” he whispers. “I—I should’ve known that you were going to come over here.”

“I mean, you did a little bit, right? Had to find somebody that led you here?”

“You got me,” Eddie breathes. “Y’know all my tricks.”

Steve hums beside him. “I’m actually sorry, though, that I ruined the surprise you had in mind. This is a pretty cool thing.”

Eddie smirks. “Steve Harrington admitting to a geek thing being cool…When did the tables turn?” He teases. “Seems like God has heard my prayers,” he jests. With a quick sneaky look around, he grabs Steve’s hand. Squeezes firmly and exhales the last bit of his panicked nerves. “Does my fiancé want to…Oh, I don’t know…Get a Lego set?”

The hand in his tightens with a harsh, unbelieving amount of strength. He almost winces. “Really?” Steve asks, perking up. If he had a tail, it would most definitely be wagging. “Can we actually? I really want that one that I found in there, the uh…Galactic whatever it was called. I’m bad at the names, which is weird because I’ve been building these sets for a while, but I always seem to get the names wrong and I—“ Eddie interrupts with a squeeze to his hand again, a smile bright and plastered to his face. “Sorry,” Steve sheepishly says, “Let’s go in there. I can show you and maybe…you can get one of your own?”

“Lead the way, sweetheart,” Eddie murmurs against Steve’s cheek, leaving a very chaste but all the same kiss there.

The panic was worth it in the end. Because watching Steve in his element, nerd-ing over toys and how to best put them together, really makes Eddie’s chest warm. In a way that tells him he’d put up with wandering all his life, if only to get Steve to smile the way he does when proudly displaying his new spaceship.

👕—————👕

[ladyelissarose]

———————— 🚬

“Get on the ground you cunt!- I don’t care if you twisted your wrist that’s your problem later but your training comes first!!”

You winced in pain as your wrist madly throbbed, while you got down on all fours to bear crawl across the desert field with a rucksack holding 100lbs. The commander screaming at you was from a different base, but he had crashed here for the time being, and became your worst nightmare when he chose to train you during his stay.

Price agreed to it believing he was a good man, he had heard some good things about him, that he was very well disciplined and held high standards for everyone. So he thought that it would be good for you- not that you needed it, you were one of his best Sergeants, but an important mission was coming up, and he wanted you to be extra prepared.

But little did Price know, was that the commander was one of those men that hated women in the work field, believing they weren’t capable enough to lead such strong forces, he only saw them as cooks, cleaners, bedwarmers, and breeding machines. So when he saw you, a woman, holding a good rank and part of a good team, he made it his mission to break you to the point you got out.

But you were better than that, and it took very much to partially dent you, for under your soft smiles and gentle, kind acts towards others both great and small, a killing machine you were in disguise.

You held a grand amount of kills under your belt, and successful missions as well that you had led first hand. But your superior could care less, he hated your guts and wanted to be the one to take you down and hold all your titles in his hands.

For the past weeks no one had known what kind of hell he put you through, for he made you train in the hot sun, far away from base, and out on the field, saying he needed to toughen you up like a man- since you wanted to work in a place of a man.

Price would’ve been aware of your terrible treatment and absence as of lately, but that upcoming mission has him on loads of paperwork and preparation for his team.

That was until he was ready to gather his crew together to open up about the mission he had planned out once he got through with it.

The first he always sought out was you, as you were his youngest and most helpful in finding the rest for him. (Sometimes Ghost would lurk in the shadows and Soap and Gaz would hide off to play pranks on new recruits, and you happened to know every spot.)

Much to his dismay and after 3 hours of searching, he had finally found Ghost cleaning his weapons in the darkest corner of the barracks, Soap re-loading his bb gun like a desperate child as Gaz laid on his side with an agonizing face, holding his crotch- but.. he didn’t find you.

He let Ghost take place for the meanwhile to scold the boys as he insisted on finding you, maybe you were going through a rough time and didn’t want to show face, or were probably menstruating- he didn’t know, but either way he wanted to help where he could and pull you up and out.

He looked in every nook and cranny, corner and closet, even knocked on your door and entered politely, only to find it empty, also checked the showers and restrooms, walked backed into his office thinking he’d find you stealing from his stash of candy- yet no sight of you.

Lastly he stood outside, drained and concerned, with a hand on his hip as he let out a few puffs of air from his cigarette.

“Where are you bunny? Hmph..”

He cared for you deeply, and not being able to find you had his stomach churning with worry. He had started to panic a bit, worst thoughts of a kidnap situation or worse coming into his mind, but no.. that couldn’t happen, he had the best team that wouldn’t dare let a stranger lay a hand on you, they had their eye on you too-

So he needed to calm down and let his mind wander into purer thoughts, and think calmly.

“-urry up!! Move your ass you excuse of a soldier!!”

Price whipped his head towards the thundering voice of a commander, his mind snapping out of his thoughts as the voice he heard sounded awful- meaning degrading and overall dictating. He poked his head around and couldn’t find the source, until he heard a whimper,

“Ah! I can’t- Agh!!”

“THERE IT IS!!! You can’t do it!! Now how hard is it to admit it!?”

Price’s jaw just about dropped, his cigar following suit as it hit the ground it utter shock and disgust. Not disgusted by you, but by the commander that hovered over you with a finger in your teary and red face, and his foot over your wrist, pressing down on it. This- this is what infuriated Price.

“Oh shows over.”

Stomping angrily towards the commander Price didn’t let a second pass as he barked authoritatively,

“Commander, step away from the Sergeant now!!”

Jumping back like if he saw a ghost, the Commander stuttered as he saw the anger seeping out of Price’s ears,

“J-John-“

“It’s Captain to you- Sergeant, go. In my office.”

The tone Price used was deep and full of rage, his accent coming out thicker than ever. It shook you up a bit, but made you get on your feet in lightning speed, and run to his office without questions asked or daring to look back. You weren’t too sure exactly who he was angry at, but you hoped it wouldn’t be you as you were mentally distraught and exhausted- as well as physically drained and in pain.

“Now who the fuck do you think you are? Eh?”

Price was ready to rip a new one into this asshole, and more was coming as the commander scoffed, trying to play it off,

“Oh- come on. Just giving her extra training, can’t have a dainty woman on the field you know? At some point she will suffer.”

He had let out a dry chuckle, attempting to let his obnoxious behavior slide, but Price only growled,

“You’re not even half the soldier she is... The Sergeant is more of a man than you.”

The commander tsked in disbelief,

“You don’t mean that, we both know the Sergeant doesn’t belong here, she never will.”

Price would’ve killed the man instantly, choked him, stabbed, shot- just murder him for being so hateful and degrading.

But as a Captain, leading to be the best example for his team, he’d be the better man and person, to reply instead with a stern yet calm voice,

“You’ll be out of my face and off my base by the next hour, if not you’ll have Ghost leading you out and he isn’t nice. Don’t make me ask twice, it’s an order.”

Without sparing garbage another glance, Price turned around and spoke into his radio and informed Ghost,

“Ghost I have the commander that needs to be off my unit immediately. If he’s not gone in the next 20 minutes.. you have my permission to do as you please with him until he’s off of it. Am I clear?”

Ghost replied in an instant,

“Affirmative. I also found the Sergeant, though she said you ordered her to your office?”

Price nodded,

“I did, I found her out in the fields with the arsehole, so I sent her in. Deal with him before I do.”

“Will do Price. Don’t worry.”

Price was walking towards his office, trying to calm himself down so he could be present and calm for you, it was a tad hard to do as this piece of trash took it too far with you. Although it was the next sound he heard that turned his anger down completely and raised the new emotion- sympathy and guilt.

He could hear your soft sniffles and muffled groans from behind his office door, it made him upset with himself that he hadn’t found you sooner, or sought for you after your first absence or shift in behavior.

He’d do anything to take it all back, but now he must focus on the present, and help you out where you’d let him. He had to come to understand that you might reject his help after he let you be under the hands of such an evil dictator.

Upon opening the door your cries had stopped, and pleas came out instead as he made appearance in front of you,

“Captain please! I can explain-“

“Sit back down Sergeant.”

He didn’t mean for it to sound so harsh, but the pain in your face had him worried you were straining yourself more by standing up. But you had immediately listened to him, and took your seat with your head hung low, and your hand nursing your wrist, hiding the swelling and bruising.

Price could see how drenched you were in sweat, the bruising on your fingers and wrist, he couldn’t imagine what more damage was done to you on the inside.

Kneeling to the ground in front of you Price placed his hand on your knee, and began to speak kindly,

“You are kind, you are smart, and you’re a very very, beautiful and strong woman, dove-“

You frowned while the tears grew rapidly, refusing to look at him,

“No-“

He raised a finger against your lips as he refused to hear otherwise,

“Yes. Yes you are. A strong soldier as well, with impeccable service and talent to take on a mission and bring everyone home safe. You have a heart of gold, but with a mind of steel... and both are greatly admired by me. You know that?”

Tears finally streamed down your cheeks as you sniffled,

“But he-“

He grabbed onto your hands that were still clenched on your lap as he insisted,

“Who do you trust? Hm? His words or mine?”

Oh of course you trusted Price, he was your Captain and secretly you admired him, he was your greatest competition and everyday you worked hard to be like him, a fearless and mighty leader.

But the harsh words you’ve been hearing go on repeat like a broken record had your heart wanting to doubt it, so much of it almost had you believing it was true.

“I want to believe you Captain but-“

“But you will. Trust me darling. And forgive me for letting him be with you, I should’ve kept an eye on ya regardless... you’re my soldier.”

‘You’re my soldier.’

You could see deep regret in your Captain’s eyes, you knew this wasn’t his fault as he had thought the Commander was a better man, but now he knows the truth.

“I forgive you Captain... I do.”

A smile that crinkled his eyes showed on his face, sympathetically he squeezed your knee and placed a warm kiss on your forehead,

“Thank you darling.. now let me wrap your wrist up for you ok?”

Handing him your wrist carefully you trusted him,

“Please do, it really hurts.”

You let out a little whimper when he held it, it pinched his heart but it made him want to work on it quicker so the pain would go away sooner. He sighed as he started, after his kissed the darkest bruise on it,

“I know, what a bastard... he’s gone now by the way, he’s never coming back here- and if he does Ghost will take care of him ok?”

Relief washed over you at the thought of this man never being in your sights again.

“Oh! That’s good... that’s good.”

It didn’t take long before the Captain was done putting a special cream on it and wrapping it up tightly, smiling proud at his accomplishment.

“There ya go darling... it’s all wrapped up for ya.”

After expecting it you became satisfied with how the cream was beginning to numb the pain,

“Looks good as new Cap-“

“Ahh Sergeant don’t kid yourself-“

“No it is! It’s got the Captain’s touch to it.”

Price knew you were trying to make the two of you feel better, so he went along and pat your head gently,

“It sure does, no one can say they have it.”

Nodding along you smiled, happy you were in the safety and comfort of your Captain’s presence.

“Nope. No one can but me.”

Now you’re walking out of the office with Price by your side, his hand on your shoulder while he guided you to the debrief room. You felt invincible because you were protected by the best Captain and man you knew, no matter what happened and how long.. Price always came back around, he had your back.

[gwiyeounsonyeon]

finally got re2! leon is adorable 🥰 hes such a puppy boy

didnt know he was a bottom until you came along, now all he can think about is you and your big dick

hes literally obsessed and when you're in the same room hes unable to keep his hands off you.

if you're bigger than him he LOVES being manhandled, it doesnt even have to be for sex. putting your hand on his back when you move around him or to lead him somewhere, moving him out of your way... your hands on him never fail to get him horny.

if you're smaller than him he loves the affect you have on him. cant get over how much power you have over him, yeah he could pick you up effortlessly but your puppy would fall to his knees with a single look.

he loves soft sex, absolutely dies for cuddle fucking. something about you holding him tightly to your chest as you fuck deep inside of him gets his brains all scrambled.

further more, if you come inside of him he is GONE. he will love you forever.

tell him how much you love him and how bad you wanna breed him while fucking him hard and deep, tell him how good you'll fill him up and how pretty hed look full of your kids and hes coming on the spot.

he just wants to feel loved and important 😖

FTM!LEON

if leon is ftm, he'll be suuuper nervous for your guy's first time together. undress him slowly and kiss over his body while telling him how much you love him and how handsome he looks.

his nipples are super sensitive, you could probably get him to come from just that.

if he has top surgery kiss his scars and tell him how much you love his hard chest.

if he hasnt had top surgery feel over his chest carefully and call them his pecs, act like hes just got really swol pecs and not only will it lighten his nerves but you'll get to see him blush all pretty and smile shyly

for ftm leon slow passionate sex is where its at, he likes to get rough here and there but he absolutely dies for soft and giggly.

CIS!LEON

for cis leon he needs it rough, slow deep thrusts get him aching for more.

he wants you to breed him, shoot your load deep inside him and send him to work with a plug keeping it all inside.

absolutely dies for public sex. take him on a bus and get him in a secluded corner just to get a little handsy.

get him all riled up at a restaurant and then leave him to walk out with an erection.

he comes super fast if you fuck him in public restrooms or at a park.

the first time you did it in the park all you did was brush up against him and he was coming in his pants.

definitely has a thing for both praise and degradation. call him your pretty boy and tell him how slutty he looks bouncing on your cock like that. fuck him so hard he turns into a babbling drooling mess and then call him a dumb whore.

he likes being feminized, wearing lingerie while you call him a dumb broad. he likes it when you feel up his leaking cock and call it his pretty clit.

SLOPPY SEX. use too much lube and talk to him about how wet his pussy is and how much of a whore he looks all spread out for you and dripping.

A/N- the price fic is still in the works, i just got super lazy and im trying to work myself up to it, i got a good chunk done i just need to finish the sex part and find out how to end it. 😘

================================================

if you like my work please support me with either the tip button or visit my kofi page, you can see the pinned post on my blog for more information please look into it

[kyletogaz]

wip wednesday | mdni

thank you for tagging me @villainofmyownstory 🩵

-

you look down to see kyle's cum running down your inner thigh, and you have to laugh. you lean forward and brace your hands against the sink as the laughter spills from your lips. it isn't until your laugh becomes borderline hysterical that sobs work their way out of your mouth. you just let kyle fuck you in a public restroom while you were out on a date with another man.

when you finally feel yourself calming down, only then do you take a deep breath and look at yourself in the mirror. the sight that greets you almost makes you want to look away. your eyes are puffy, your mascara is running, and you have a pussy full of kyle’s cum. a small bubble of laughter makes it’s way out of your mouth at the absurdity of it all.

“fuckin’ hell,” you mumble to yourself, while reaching for the dispenser hanging on the wall next to you. you do the best you can with a handful of paper towels and hot water as you clean yourself off. when you’re done, your slip your panties back on and wash your hands.

you don’t leave the bathroom right away. there’s no way in hell you can go back out there to your date like this. you think of kyle and how he’s probably happy as a fucking clam while he enjoys his dinner with simon, johnny, and price.

your mind is already made up when you leave the bathroom and head straight for the exit. you don’t even bother apologizing to your date, you just block him and move on.

-

tagging whoever wants to do this

[pricegouge]

Well, exactly one person interacted but that's all I need. Behold:

141 and piss play 🤭

I already talked about Ghost and Soap here but let's expand on that.

We all know Soap is desperate for you in any way he can get you, but his heart would probably just completely stop if you asked him to pee on you. You may as well have asked him to tattoo his bite mark on your ass as far as he's concerned. He's not one for setting up scenes, exactly, but when you get home from work one night to find about eleven empty jugs of water and a empty fucking kiddie pool in the living room, it finally dawns on you that you might've fucked up.

Simon's kink is incidental until it isn't - when he starts to associate it with you cumming hard enough to make you see god. He's always on the hunt for it now, pressing on your belly until he can feel himself moving within you, until he's shuddering right along with you when you get overwhelmed, releasing hot and wet across his belly and thighs.

You were hesitant to tell Gaz about your interest in the kink until he confidently proclaimed one night that he was a try anything twice kinda guy. You'd both been drinking, and you're at that floaty stage where just saying to hell with it and asking him how he'd feel about fucking you til you pissed yourself, or perhaps pissing on you. You'd been expecting some negotiation, some hesitancy. You got none. Kyle was too drunk to fuck you properly, but all the alcohol in his system made him need to pee like a racehorse every three minutes and he was eager to please so he pulled your to the shower right then and there, putting you on your knees and making you close your mouth and eyes. No need to rush into it, he figured, not when he'd already told you he'd be willing to try it at least once more. It's hotter than you'd expected - hotter even than the water from the shower head. It stinks, obviously, but the thrill of it, the degradation, has you begging him to try it again. "No problem, luv," he says, stroking his cock almost absently, whiskey dick preventing him from even properly fucking you after debasing you like this. "Nearly finished a bottle of tequila all on my own tonight. Just give me a minute and I can mark those pretty tits."

It's easy enough to know John's a controlling man, another thing entirely to accept this side of him. He's clever about it though; has clearly dealt with pushback from previous partners. You don't even realize what he's doing when he starts mainlining you water each night ("You look dehydrated, love. Tough day at work?), the tricky bastard. And you find it odd when he starts asking if you need to stop and use the restroom whenever the two of you are out and about but it never occurs to you what he's really doing, because how could it? What normal person tries to control their partner's bladder? But that's exactly what he's doing. Took you long enough to figure it out, but by the time he's telling you to wait until the next commercial break, you've run out of convenient excuses for him. "Have to pee now, John," you gripe, but he just smirks, caught - not at all ashamed. He tries explaining it away as a desire to watch you squirm, but you know him better than that. If John Price wanted to make you squirm he would simply do it. No need for the delayed satisfaction of plying you full of liquids first. Still, you don't realize exactly what he's after until he nearly beats you over the head with it - stops your squirming with a firm palm pressed against the apex of your thighs at the next commercial break, exactly when he'd said. He's mean about it, pressing into your full bladder just as much as he coos at you about it all being okay, that he'll reward you real prettily if you just do as he says.

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Chin Up

Roy Kent x Teacher!Reader

Warnings: Language

0.8k words

Author's Note: Big thanks to @misshall14 for the idea!

Teach Me Tonight Masterlist

At the pub, you’d refused to go speak to Roy, despite Leanne’s nudging. Nope, not in front of the older teachers. You didn’t need to make this a bigger deal than it was. Roy was being nice, maybe a bit cheeky. He seemed to understand that teaching could be a headache- a wonderful headache that you loved, but a headache, nonetheless. He was just being nice.

Your weekend was spent trying to think of what to say to him during drop-off on Monday. Something polite, kind, without allowing him the opportunity to flirt. You’d never met a more dangerous, charming man, and you needed to prepare yourself for his leather jacket and smiles.

As you greeted parents and children, you were still pondering what you wanted to say to him. But all thoughts of Roy Kent flew out of your head when Jack Price’s mum nearly ran you down, red in the face and dragging her child behind her.

On Friday, you’d made him wait to use the loo until another classmate returned, since you only allowed one student at a time to go. And students knew from day one that if it was an emergency, they didn’t have to wait. It wasn’t even your rule; it was something all the teachers agreed to due to too many instances of playing around in the restrooms. This rule was probably as old as Jack, who had been fine with waiting. It wasn’t news to his mum.

And yet there she was, scolding you in a loud voice for daring to make her child wait like some prisoner, threatening to go to the headmistress for the sadistic way you ran your classroom. While you kept your poise and calmly informed her to please email you to set up a meeting to discuss things at a more appropriate time, you knew everyone could see your burning red face and the tremble she left you with.

Everyone including Roy Kent.

He quickly sent Phoebe off to play before approaching you. “Alright?” His voice was almost as full of concern as his eyes.

You nodded, blinking rapidly to hold back the stupid tears that had formed. “Oh, that was nothing,” you assured him with a dry chuckle. “You get used to it. Parents are worse than the kids.”

“Hmmph.” He was studying you carefully, as if you were going to shatter at any moment.

“I, um, should go chat with the headmistress,” you mumbled, fiddling with your keys. “Let her know what happened.” Your smile was tighter than the feeling in your chest. “See you later, Coach.”

He nodded, no smiles this morning. “Hope your day gets better.” With a small salute, he was gone.

You sighed and headed towards the office. Hope your day gets better. Well, it certainly couldn’t get worse.

~

“Can we come in?”

You looked up from your desk. There was Roy Kent, holding a small brown bag in his hand, Phoebe right behind him clutching her backpack. It was dismissal, and the headmistress had decided to cover for you so you wouldn’t have to see Mrs. Price so soon, which you were grateful for.

You put on your teacher smile, the one that didn’t quite reach your eyes, and nodded. “Sure.” You stood and met them in the middle of the classroom. “Long time no see, Pheebs,” you joked, earning a smile from your student. Reluctantly, you turned your attention to her uncle. “Need something?”

Roy held out the paper bag, which you took with a confused frown. “Just… this morning fucking sucked.” He reached into his pocket and took out a pound note, shoving it into Phoebe’s outstretched hand. “Dunno what happened, but you didn’t deserve that.” He nodded to Phoebe. “Cover your ears.” After she’d done so, he continued. “Jack’s mum fucking sucks. Always throwing a fit over nothing. Don’t let her get to you. Promise me.”

Your smile became real when you saw the earnestness in his brown eyes. “Promise.” You opened the bag; inside was a giant chocolate croissant from that café you loved. Your usual. “Are you this kind to all of Phoebe’s teachers?”

He paused, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards. “I am… kind to the people I want to be kind to.”

Fucking Roy Kent. Charming and mysterious.

“Well, thank you,” you managed. “Appreciate it.”

He wrapped his arm around Phoebe’s shoulders; you chuckled when you realized she was still covering her ears. “Right. Well, we better go get this one’s homework started.” He gave you one last nod. “Chin up, alright?”

“Bye, Coach. Bye Pheebs.”

As the two walked out of your classroom, you turned to go back to your desk. With your back to him, you didn’t see the way Roy glanced over his shoulder to take one last look at you, a wistful smile on his bearded face.

Taglist: @infinetlyforgotten @gothicwidowsworld @taytaylala12

[narcissosbythepool]

More of pricegaz Rosie AU, in which Gaz and Price have a baby together. This fic is a companion piece to this wonderful art by Rowan. Price finally gets to meet newborn baby Rosanna !

Tags: established pricegaz, trans pregnancy (Gaz), mentioned c-section, extremely schmoopy parental feelings

//

John has been in scary situations before – life-threatening ones, truly abhorrent, desperate places. 

Nothing so far has prepared him for 6 missed calls from Dorothy.

The moment they’re allowed to make contact with the outside world again, he dials her back immediately, praying the entire time that the dread turning his guts upside down is unwarranted.

“Please, please, please,” he mumbles into the receiver, until the call finally connects.

“John?”

“Is he alright?” are the first words out of his mouth. “Kyle, is he alright?” He sounds frantic even to his own ears.

“More or less,” Dotty says, and she sounds calm enough that John can at least catch his breath a little. “He called me over when he suddenly had strange pain, and we’re at the hospital now.”

Well, there goes his composure.

“And?”

“They’re prepping for an emergency c-section,” Dorothy says. “There is a chance that the baby’s going to end up entangled with the umbilical cord, and she’s a breech too, so we decided that it’s safest to cut her out now.”

John wonders if he’s going to black out. It feels like it.

“Alright,” he manages. “Are you with him?”

“Yeah, he’s here. I’ll give the phone to him.” She pauses. “He’s on some pretty strong painkillers already, though, so he’s a little loopy.”

“Thank you, Dorothy.”

There’s a rustling sound as Dorothy hands the phone to Kyle.

“Sweetheart?” John calls for his love and Kyle chuckles back – the sound is enough to soothe his wildly galloping heartbeat.

“It’s cute when you call me that,” Kyle tells him. The corner of John’s mouth lifts a little.

“You broken?”

“Nah,” Kyle replies. “Not really.”

“You alright then?”

“If an emergency surgery is alright, I guess.” There is a pause, and when Kyle continues he sounds a little slurred: “I wish you were here.”

“I know,” John says, “and I’m sorry. I’ll come as fast as I can, okay? I’ll make Nik break traffic laws.”

“Oh, he’ll like that,” Kyle chuckles again. “Crazy, huh? The baby coming out.”

“That’s one word for it.” John rubs a hand over his eyes. “Dotty is with you, alright? And when you wake up, I’ll be there. You’ll be…” He swallows. “You’ll be fine.”

“Mmh. You better be here then. I’ll kidnap the baby and disappear if you’re not.”

“Ah, threatening me already. I’ll do my best, but you’ll have to blame Nik if I’m late.”

“I’ll shave his head,” Kyle mumbles back and John finally cracks up.

“I’ll tell him to hurry, then.” 

“I love you,” Kyle says, and what else can John reply:

“I’ll be there.”

*

Once he gets to the Gloucester Royal Hospital, he practically runs to the maternity ward nurse station.

“I’m here for Kyle Garrick,” he says, barely catching his breath. The nurse at the station raises her brows and then smiles.

“John Price?” she asks cheerily.

“Yes.”

“You’re the other father, then,” she says. “Good that you could make it. Kyle seems to be out of surgery by now, I’ll get someone to pick you up and take you to him.”

The short wait time while she flags down another nurse feels like standing on hot coals. John checks his phone again – Dotty hasn’t replied anything yet, but she also hasn’t called again so things can’t be going too badly. He walks back and forth, goes to wash his hands in the restroom, and then goes back to pace in front of the station.

“John?” he hears and perks up. A dark-skinned woman walks up to him with a smile. “I’m Najin, come this way.”

“Thank you— is he alright? I tried to get here as soon as I could—” John trails off, feeling vaguely ashamed.

“He did mention you were probably breaking a couple international air traffic laws to get here,” Najin chuckles. “He’s alright. The surgery went well and he’s expected to have a full recovery. Your daughter is also healthy.”

John nods and tries to remember how to breathe.

They walk down the hallway, until Najin slows down in front of one of the doors, which then opens and out steps Dorothy, about to leave the room.

“John!” she exclaims and then John has his arms full of Kyle’s sister as she jumps in his embrace. “You made it!”

“Thank you, Dotty,” is all John is able to choke out, squeezing her closer.

“Of course,” Dorothy says and pats his back, pulling back, and now that John can see her face properly, her eyes are a little bit puffy. “I’m going to get some coffee. Go meet your kid. She’s mad cute.”

“Alright,” John manages.

“Kyle fell asleep a while ago, poor guy’s knackered,” Dorothy addresses Najin, who nods, and she pats her on the shoulder as she walks off – John assumes they probably know each other, perhaps former coworkers or school friends. “See you soon.”

Najin walks him into the room, where John’s eyes first zero in on Kyle’s sleeping form. He wonders if the explosion of affection in his chest will ever go away – he hopes not. Kyle looks exhausted, dark circles under his eyes, and guilt worms its way in his thoughts again.

“Sir,” Najin reminds him, “this way.”

And then John lays his eyes on Rosanna Garrick Price.

He walks slowly to the see-through crib, where the smallest baby he’s ever seen sleeps soundly, snuffling in her sleep. 

He can’t quite describe the emotion. It’s unlike anything he’s ever felt before. 

“She’s…” he whispers, “small.”

“She is premature,” Najin smiles. “But she’ll start growing before you even notice.” She then touches his arm and says warmly: “Congratulations, you’re a father.”

That finally breaks the dam.

The first sob takes him nearly by surprise. The second less so – soon enough he’s bending over the crib, tears running down his cheeks as he tries to catch his breath. Najin’s smile widens and she rubs his arm in comfort.

“Can I hold her?” John manages between his hiccuping sobs.

“Of course,” Najin says, “do you want me to show you how?”

John nods – he knows how to hold babies, but his brain feels wiped clean as he stares down at his daughter. Najin helps the baby in his arms, making sure he’s supporting her neck, and then John suddenly finds his arms full of his child.

He’s always been good with his hands. They’re calloused from work, used to the weight of a gun or a knife, scarred from ropes and wires. Dependable, fast, swift. 

He thought his hands had found their calling holding a weapon.

He’s never been so wrong.

A new purpose opens her eyes in his arms and squints up at him for a moment – and then she sighs and burrows closer to his chest.

This does not help with the tears.

Najin leaves his side to check up on Kyle. John is only vaguely aware of her moving, so fixated on little Rosie. He rocks her a little back and forth, staring at her in awed silence. He’s never really been a crier, he thinks absent-mindedly, but apparently once the tears started falling he can’t stop them now. Every time he looks at her face, his chest constricts with an emotion that he doesn’t know he has ever felt before. 

Dear god, he has loved before. He loves Kyle more than he can count the stars in the sky, he loves his team, he’s loved people he has lost. He thought he knew the limits of it, until Kyle came into his life, and when he thought he had felt it all in full, here comes this little wonder and surprises him again.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he whispers to her, “I can tell already.”

Rosie merely huffs at him. He guesses he deserves it, disturbing her beauty sleep.

And oh, she is a beauty. She’s a bit wrinkly, as newborns are, her little face scrunched up as she concentrates on stealing his heart with every single breath, probably dreaming of her world domination once she wraps him around her tiny pinky finger.

“Sir?” Najin calls out to him. 

John hums, acknowledging he’s heard her.

“Kyle will probably be asleep for a while, but nothing seems wrong here, so I’ll leave you two for now. If anything comes up, don’t hesitate to call on us.”

“Thank you,” John says, finally tearing his gaze from Rosanna to meet Najin’s wide grin. “Sorry for, uh…” He lets out a shuddering laugh. “The mess.”

“It’s alright,” Najin laughs. “Best part of the job. Have a nice evening, sir.”

“Thank you, again,” John replies earnestly, and Najin leaves with a friendly wave.

John looks down at Rosie again. Tears well up in his eyes once more and he can’t help but laugh.

“You’re probably the first girl to make me cry like this,” he chuckles and then sniffles, trying to gather himself. “Let’s go wait for your dad to wake up, alright?” He then pauses and frowns as a thought suddenly occurs.

“I didn’t introduce myself to you, did I?” He wipes her tiny cheek with the tip of his finger. “I’m your Da.” A smile breaks on his face again. “Nice to meet you, princess. Let’s hope you get your looks from your Dad and not me.” Another pause. “Don’t tell him I said that, alright?”

Rosanna’s nose twitches in agreement.

John sits on Kyle’s bed, careful not to jostle either him or Rosanna. He looks over to his sleeping partner. 

What is he going to say? There is no gratitude, no apology, no atonement or glory great enough. Kyle has given him everything. There is nothing without him. He is nothing without him. How does one express that? How can he ever express how he feels right now, how Kyle has turned his world upside down with this blessing? There are no words for this – perhaps there are poets who could speak it into being, but all John knows is that there is a fire inside him that won’t go out. 

So he waits, holds little Rosie in his arms and waits.

At some point the sheets rustle as Kyle shifts, and John gets to watch his lashes flutter as he fights his way to wakefulness.

“Hey,” John whispers. Kyle cracks an eye open.

“Hi,” he replies, voice raspy. “You made it.”

For a moment John wonders how to speak it into being, this feeling that surges inside him like a rising tide.

Before he can come up with a reply, Rosie wiggles in his arms. He looks down at her and—

“Bloody hell, I haven’t stopped crying since I saw her,” John chokes out. “Every time I look at her, I just…”

“Break open all over again? Yeah,” Kyle chuckles, and as John turns back to him with tears streaming down his cheeks, Kyle’s smile has widened to a proud grin.

“I love you,” is what comes out of John’s mouth, and Kyle’s expression slacks to one of surprise – and it is rare that he’s able to drag the words out of his mouth, but there simply is nothing else to say. “I love you, alright? I am nothing without you, and I’m so proud of you.” He leans in carefully to press a soft kiss on Kyle’s forehead, trying not to jostle Rosie too much, and when he pulls back, Kyle brings his hand to John’s cheek to wipe away his tears. John leans into the touch, closing his eyes for just a second.

“You better be,” Kyle says, and his voice is so soothing, as exhausted as he sounds. “I did that all by myself.”

John kisses his palm.

“That you did.”

END

[ghostssweetgirl]

"babydoll"

simon ghost riley x fem reader smut

CW: sex in a storage room... & you have to be quiet 🤫! the rest of the team is in the next room over... 

nsfw under the cut! minors, do not interact! 18+ only !!

--

Rough missions called for many drinks afterward at the base. You were sitting afar at the counter, watching the men conversate, chuckling at their banter. Your eyes flick back to a figure leaning on the wall and see your Lieutenant. His eyes met yours, blinking slowly at you. You never did get away with taking a simple look at the man, he somehow always knew. You huff a sly laugh as you turn around sipping on your drink. 

You knew what that look was. It wasn't the first time he seduced you with his eyes and... probably wouldn't be the last - truthfully. You both tell each other each time it would be the last time, but it was all a lie. But it wasn't you that started this. The first time was on a drive with him. He said he was bored and wanted a show. He squinted at you and his eyes bore into your own, traveling down to your hands that rested at your thighs, then back up your body. 

-

"What?"

"You heard me."

"I-I don't understand what you mean, sir..."

"I think y'know what I mean, darlin', don't act shy," he stared at your chest. You look to where his eyes are and see your uniform, unbuttoned at your breasts. 

"O-oh..." you fiddle with the button as he clicks his tongue.

"Go on, babydoll."

-

It was a drive to meet Price back at an emergency meeting, waiting on the important files Ghost and you had acquired from an enemy base. A pit stop was made where you rode him in the front seat until he released inside you. Kissing him was unintentional, but you instantly planted your lips on his when your arousal seeped all over his throbbing cock. Ever since that first time, he pursued you. You tried to ignore him, but he insisted he'd stay true to his word.

"'M going to make you cum harder next time, doll. You're lucky we're in a rush."

"Ghost... We can't do this too much... We could get in trouble!"

"I know."

-

What you were doing 10 minutes prior was now irrelevant when you were standing in front of your captain, handing him the files as Ghost's cum soaked your panties as it dripped out of you. 

"What took you two so long?"

You clear your throat and lie, "I had to use the restroom, sir."

"Hm," he dismisses it and looks through the files. "Go on, outt'a here."

--

He would order you to accompany him on missions he could do alone. He would stare at you from across the conference room. He was sometimes sitting next to you, laying a hand on your thigh causing you to jump. One time you were trying to reach something in a tall cabinet when you felt him right on your back, reaching up to get what you were looking for effortlessly, teasing you when you reached to grab it, yanking it away from you. 

--

The second time was a quickie on a mission, he fucked you against the cold, brick wall in a dark alleyway. A sure-as-shit easy way to get yourselves killed, but you were too busy moaning his name. Too rotted with the way his dick slammed into you. Oh, he did make you cum harder. You squirted.

"Okay, fuck. Last time, I swear, love," he lied through his teeth. 

--

You finish another drink, trying your best to ignore him. It's like he was talking to you telepathically. You can't help it; you look at the group distracted by what's on TV and look back at Ghost, already looking at you. You smirk and sneak out of the chair, walking to the storage room, seeing if he'd take the bait. You knew he would. 

You close the door quietly behind you and sit on the open space of a counter. Smiling at the door, waiting for him to come in, you count in your head.

1...

2...

Click.

There he stood in front of you, closing the door softly behind him. He walks slowly over in front of you, and you bite your lip in anticipation. No words have been spoken except what was evident in the eyes. You sit up, tilting your head up at him. He cupped your cheek, rubbing your bottom lip. You softly giggle watching him lift his mask up over his nose, leaning down to kiss you. You cup his face, leaning into his touch. His hands travel down your side roughly, grabbing at the fat of your hips. 

-

He tried not to let you slip into any of the cracks that may have been left in his heart, but you worked your way in there like a snake. He couldn't ignore you; he didn't want you to leave his sight. He nearly couldn't stand the way you looked up to him with your big, beautiful eyes. His heart fluttered when you giggled. He adores the way your lips curl into a soft smile, and how you genuinely care for others. You're the most beautiful thing he's set eyes upon, truly. And in no way would he deny you anything, not when you sound like that, as he's balls deep inside your tight cunt... not when you sound like that, singing his name when you beg for more. And definitely not when it's your cum coating his cock, his cum coating your velvet walls. 

-

He unbuttoned your uniform quickly, lips still locked with yours. You moan into his mouth as he squeezes your tits. Luckily, your moan was stifled in his mouth. He undid your pants and you lifted your hips for him while he slid them off of you, letting them fall on the floor with a soft thump. 

"Please, Simon," you whispered. He moaned against your cheek as his hand slipped between your legs, rubbing slow circles over your panties. You gasp in pleasure, grabbing onto the fabric around his bicep, scratching into his skin slightly underneath. He moves faster, putting more pressure in his movements. One hand slips under your bra and toys with your nipple, the other working you to your first orgasm. 

"That feel good, babydoll?"

"Fuck, yes," you panted, biting your lip as a tight knot formed in your stomach. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum."

"Go on then," he kisses your forehead, pulling you into his kiss while his hand flicks relentlessly. "Be quiet, doll. Fuck, cum for me."

Your mouth opens with no sound coming out as your legs clench together. You look up at his eyes, focused on you while you release, fireworks exploding within. Your vision blinks white as your legs tremble, gasping in air. 

"Good girl," he praised, grabbing your hips, and lifting you up. He undoes his pants and instinctively you fall to your knees in front of him. He looks down at you while he fumbles with the button and pulls them down. 

You help him as much as you can while you wait impatiently to have his cock down your throat. Mouth already watering, as soon as his length sprang free, you took it in your mouth slowly and tightly. 

"Ah, fuck..."

You pull back and giggle up at him, "Be quiet for me, love, don't want them knowing what I'm doing to you~ in here..."

He grunts as you hollow your cheeks and take him in fully. He grabbed both sides of your head as he steadied his pace, slamming into the back of your throat. You sounded disgusting gagging on his cock, but the sounds drove him wild, only making him ravage your throat more. He guides your head back slowly, letting the tip pop out before he slides it back in not caring about the strings of saliva dripping out the sides of your mouth. 

He finally let you go, and the sight in front of him alone was enough for him to bust. You with your red face, out of breath, water beads in the corner of your eyes and drool plastering your face.  

"Fuck, get up here," he demanded. As soon as you stood up, he devoured your lips, seeming to not mind the taste of himself on your lips. He sucked the slobber from your bottom lips as his teeth fluttered against the sensitive skin. He sat you up on the counter, sliding your panties to the side. He sucked in your moans as his thumb brushed your clit, and the other gripped your throat.

His cock lines up with your sopping entrance and slides in, almost with ease. "Fuck, so wet n' so tight for me, huh?"

"Mhm... mhm!" you nodded as you looked up at him with scrunched brows.

You buck your hips against his as you grew needier, and needier. Fucking him was pure heaven, you didn't know pleasure before this man. He scratched a deeper itch inside of you, and made you cum in ways you didn't think possible. Your panties grow wetter as juices seep over his cock while he's thrusting in and out. He hits that one squishy spot and you instantly wail out.

"Oh, god! Fuck!" you couldn't control yourself. He stills inside, and slaps a hand over your mouth.

"Shit... As much as I love hearing you moan for me, pretty girl..." he grunts. "I really... really need you to be quiet right now."

"I'm trying, Simon, I'm trying! Feels t-too good!"

"Yeah?" he starts moving again, watching your reaction as he hits deep, causing you to clench tighter. 

Your eyes roll into the back of your head as you try your best to nod to him, unable to find your words. His hand stays clamped over your mouth as the other grabs your hip. He leans back, angling himself even deeper but at a slower pace. 

Your eyes widen as your back arches, there it is. You look at him for approval, and he already knows. His pace doesn't relent, it only gets harder. His eyes locked on yours, and he dares to remove his hand. 

There was that sweet sound you made that he loved. No wonder he couldn't control himself around you. 

"Is that it, duchess? Gonna cum for me?"

Your broken moans was all he needed as response, but even then it still wasn't enough. He pulls you down lower with your ass hanging off. If your lewd wails didn't give away your position, the sound of skin clapping surely would. Both of his hands roughly grasp your hips as he pounds into that one spot, coaxing that orgasm out of you and milking his cock to make you his cumdump. 

"Shit baby," he rasped. "'S'fuckin' tight."

"I'm gonna fuckin' cum, Simon!" you warned right as you released, your pussy clenching on his thickness as his pace slightly slowed, riding you through your euphoria. 

He leans down and kisses you passionately, like he loved you. He did, but you didn't know that. He grabs your cheeks, whimpering in your mouth as he buries himself to the hilt as deep as he can get, slowly rolling his hips. You didn't think for a second of why he was kissing you like this, too lost in the moment, the pleasure, the fullness. You kissed with the same hunger back, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood as a slight metallic flavor coats your mouth, you swallow it. 

He punches the counter with a loud bang as his dick throbs inside you. You playfully hit his shoulder and mutter out, "Simon! Shh!" Finally, you were coming back to your senses. 

--

You dress yourself weakly, stumbling to side to side as he laughs at you. 

"You go first," he chuckled.

"Yeah, no shit, let's hope they didn't hear that, Lieutenant."

[pixiepixells]

Opposite! Pixie (Jace edition!!)

scophobia tw btw! also au belongs to @jacenotjason

Info, Funfacts, and more down below:

This is Pixie! (she's my wh persona!) She's a college student currently working a horrendous part-time job. Fun-facts: -Her major is Illustration! She wants to character designer and to make comics.

-She loves History and will go into passionate rants about it when asked (her favorite topic)

-She's in progression of getting better and is in therapy

-Her role in the show is the be the broke college student -When she moved she worked on her home to be more preferred to her, after befriending Frank and Wally she let them paint in her windows

-She has a younger who she speaks very fondly of! She misses him a lot

-She attends to Julies Comedy shows when she can!

-Unlike OG Pixie, she is not a time traveler.

-Maintains eye-contact like Wally

Not-so Fun Facts:

-The reason she hates Howdy so much because he scammed her into getting a shed instead of an actual home, for a very long time she had no AC, heating, water, or a restroom for a while (for like 2 seasons)

-Because she gets not much sleep and is very stressed and anxious she gets vertigo attacks

-She fears becoming an alcoholic

-Can get extremely existential and is dreading after college

-When her depression gets bad, She can go weeks without proper hygiene or cleaning her home. She doesn't leave her home.

-Is very touched-starved

-Is struggling to eat due to Howdy's high prices, she's lost a lot of weight because of this.

-is in debt due to renovating her home

-will probably be stuck in home, forever.

Character relationships!

(There might be a secret hint to pixies lore here!)

Safe to say, Pixie likes most of neighbors thankfully! (Here is OG pixie btw!!, Her stuff will be out soon!)

[tact-and-impulse]

Narumayo Week 2024 Day 5

I just had to pull together the idea at the end of the day, but I made it!

Prompt: Travel

“You finally made it? That took forever.” Pearl gasped on the other end of the line. “Can you see the big clock tower? Or London Bridge?”

Maya wryly looked past the glass, at the rainy weather obscuring the city lights. “Not right now, it’s already nighttime here. And guess what? I’m calling from tomorrow, it’s the next day.”

“Oh, my gosh…” Her little cousin was awed.

She spied a familiar blue blazer staggering out of the men’s restroom. “There he is. Nick is totally wiped out, even though he slept for half the flight.”

“I heard that, Maya. Hi, Pearl.” He yawned. “And it took almost fifteen hours. The Legal League of Attorneys is paying, so I probably shouldn’t complain that much.”

Maya was already enjoying the trip. She’d never traveled by plane before, and she had the window seat. The green fields, craggy mountains, and tiny bustling cars were fascinating, but she was absolutely enthralled by the glow of sunset among the clouds. She had taken pictures with her digital camera, although none seemed to capture the beauty of that golden hour.

A crack of thunder caused them to startle. Maya hurriedly said. “It’s also raining here, and we should get to the hotel. Talk to you later.”

“Bye, Mystic Maya.” The phone clicked, and they rushed to baggage claim. They headed for the exit, stopping short at the sheet of water rippling over the glass windows. A flash of lightning illuminated their resigned expressions.

“Uh, Nick, did you-?”

“No…ugh. And London’s known for it too.”

They’d forgotten to pack umbrellas.

And the airport had to jack up the prices. While Maya sifted through the sightseeing magazines and tried not to stare at an incredibly expensive toy tea party set, Phoenix paid for their shield from the rain. As he returned, she noticed it was a single clear umbrella. Just one.

Her pulse picked up, and she hoped she sounded nonchalant. “We’re operating on a budget, huh?”

“It’s only for tonight. Do you mind if we stick close together?”

“After sitting next to you for hours and hours?” No, she didn’t mind at all. In fact, that was crucial to her enjoyment. “I think I’ll survive.”

“I’ll try to keep you in one piece. Who else is going to ride a trolley and eat fish and chips with me?”

“And sticky toffee pudding. We have to get the full experience while we’re tourists.”

“Legal exchange representatives.”

“Only in the courtroom. Outside of it, that’s a different story.” She purposefully raised her eyebrows. He gave a low laugh, and she was too pleased.

“A fair argument. That’s why I asked you to come along.” Despite his weary demeanor and the dark circles under his eyes, he still offered his arm. That was him to the core, continuing to the very end. “Let’s go.”

She acquiesced, tightly hanging on to his solid presence. “Okay. First one to find a cab wins.”

And with that, they went stamping into the stormy darkness.