#and then the f*ing ending-- i can't

[fkngluehead]

<3

[aenramsden]

The following is not my idea; it was the original brainchild of a friend of mine named Omicron, with help from various others including EarthScorpion, TenfoldShields, @havocfett and ShintheNinja:

So, you know what I want to do one day? Run (or play in) a D&D campaign in which the Big Bad Super Dragon that is fuckoff ancient and unfathomably powerful and whose actions have shaped history and bent the course of nations and had repercussions on the whole culture and society in the region where it's set; the Bonus Special Boss for some endgame optional quest after you defeat the direct BBEG and win the campaign...

... is a white dragon.

To explain this for people not deep into 5e monster lore; D&D dragons are sapient beings, and known for their instincts and tendencies, and whenever you meet an big evil dragon that's really old it's usually this ancient creature of terrible intellect Smaug-ing it up all over the place.

Except white dragons are fucking stupid. Like, they're still capable of speech and thought! They're just… feral, hungry morons. And you almost never see them portrayed as ancient wyrms for that reason; they lack majesty. Critical Role did it, yes, but even then, Vorugal is explicitly the most bestial member of the Chroma Conclave, and the others are the more intelligent planners and long-term threats. An ancient white as a nation-defining endboss, though; not a thug for a smarter master but as the strongest and biggest threat around is just not the sort of thing you tend to see.

Adventurers: "Oh wise Therunax the Munificent, gold dragon of Law and Good, what can you tell us adventurers of the evil dragons which rule this land?" Therunax the Munificent, 500-year old Gold Dragon: "Good adventurers, know this: this land is torn apart by the evil of Tiamat's spawn. The eastern marches are the dwelling of Furinar the Plague-Bringer, black dragoness whose hoard is a thousand sicknesses contained in the body of her tributes. The southern volcanic mountains are the roosting of Angrar the Wrathful, the fiery red dragon, who brings magmatic fury on all who do not worship him. And the northern peaks are home to Face-Biter Mike, the oldest and most powerful of all, of whom I dread to speak." Adventurers: "F-Face-Biter Mike???" Therunax: "Oh yes, verily indeed; two thousand years has Mike lived, and his eyes have seen the rise and fall of five empires, and a hundred and score champions have sought to slay him; and each and every one he bit their fucking face off."

Like... I want to see a campaign where Face-Biter Mike is genuinely the most powerful dragon in the region, if not the entire world. Where sometimes he descends on a city to grab himself some meatsicles and causes a localised ice age by the beat of his vast wings and the frigid wastes of his mighty breath and by the chill his mere presence brings to everything for miles around him, and everyone just has to deal with that for the next decade. An entire era of civilization comes to an end, an empire falls, tens of thousands starve in the winter, all because Mike wanted a snack. Where his hoard is an unfathomably vast mass of jewels and artefacts and precious stones frozen in an unmelting glacier, except he is a nouveau riche idiot with fuckall appraising skill, so half of his hoard is coloured glass or worthless knicknacks, and he doesn't give a shit.

"Your Draconic Majesty, this crown is… It's pyrite." "Yeah, well, it's brighter than this dusty old thing made out of real gold, it's my new best treasure. Throw the other one away." "…throw the Burnished Tiara of Bahamut, forged in the First Age of Man, your majesty???" "See? I can't even remember its fucking name." "But my lord-" "DO YOU WANT TO BE A MEATSICLE" "…I will fetch a trash bag, your majesty."

But at the same time, he's not stupid, he's just simple, and in some ways that makes him more dangerous than the usual kinds of scheming Big Bad you see in these things, while simultaneously justifying why Orcus remains on his throne (because he's lazy). Face-Biter Mike doesn't make convoluted plans or run labyrinthine schemes; he just has a talent for violence and a pragmatic, straightforward approach to turning any kind of problem he struggles with into a problem that can be resolved with violence. Face-Biter Mike has one talent and it's horrifying physical power, so his approach to any complicated problem is "how do I turn this into a situation where I can fly down and bite this dude's face off?" with absolutely no regard for the collateral damage or consequences of doing so, because those are also things he can turn into face-bitable problems.

"My lord, the dread necromancer Nikodemion is using his undead dragons to attempt a conquest of the eastern kingdom; his agents are everywhere, his plans are centuries in the making, what can we do against such a mastermind?" "I'm gonna fly over the capital and eat the eastern king." "M-my lord???" "The kingdom will collapse without leadership, Nikodemion will win his war, he'll take the capital and crown himself king." "And that helps us… how?" "Once he does I'll fly over to the capital and eat him." "…" "This is why you advisors all suck. You're all about convoluted plans when the only thing I need to win is know where my enemy is so I can fly down there and eat him. Stop overthinking things."

And, like, yeah, it's a simplistic plan, but when you're several hundred tons of nigh invincible magical death, you don't need brilliant strategy; the smartest way to win a war is, in this case, the simplest. He's not even all that clever at figuring out the consequences of face-biting, he's just memorised the common consequences of doing so.

(If you want to go all in on Mike being the major mover and shaker in the region; Nikodemion only even has a pet zombie dragon because Mike killed the last dragon to show up and contest his turf but wasn't going to eat a whole dragon by himself. Nikodemion got to stick around and amass that much power because Mike ate the Hero of the Realm while he was adventuring because he figured the Hero would come and try to slay him at some point. Nikodemion got started because Mike ate half the leadership of the Academy of High Magic who typically keep evil wizards and necromancers in check. And then eventually this product of Mike's casual, careless actions becomes a big enough problem to bother Mike personally, at which point Mike eats him too.)

He doesn't even really fail upwards, either! He is regularly reduced to nothing but the glacier he stores his hoard in, but he's Face-Biter Mike so nobody wants to commit to actually ending him forever lest they get their faces bitten the fuck off. And his hoard's in a huge-ass magical glacier so nobody can get to it without running into the Invading Russia problem; it's hard to wage war when everything is frozen over and you're both starving and freezing to death. Once he's been beaten back to his central lair and has lost all his holdings… I mean, he's still a problem, but he's a far away problem. So he loses his assets and spends a decade in a cave brooding it up while no one dares risk trying to actually kill him, and then a generation or two later he flies down to a kobold colony and gets himself some minions, or a dragon-worshipping mage comes to offer his service against a pittance from his hoard, or a particularly stupid cult starts thinking they can get in good with him and leech off his power, and then he's (hah) snowballing again.

He's also got a very… well, the kind of weird Charisma that Grineer bosses do. Like Sargas Ruk, who's a malformed idiot, but oddly charismatic. As he's a dragon, that makes him a natural sorcerer and thus Charisma is all he needs. He's pretty relaxed when he isn't in a face-biting mood, and he's kind of infectiously optimistic, because his life has taught him that he will succeed as long as he perseveres. So he just believes it.

And sometimes that's really refreshing to work for, as an evil minion of darkness! It's like, you're coming to your Evil Dragon Lord with terrible news; you've worked for evil overlords before, you know how it goes. You fall to your knees weeping and tell him that you've failed to seize the incredibly powerful magical artifact, you think your life is forfeit. And he's just like "Eh, it's okay, these things are all over the place. Better luck next time. You remember the guy who took it, right?" and you go "Y-yes, oh great lord!" and he's like "Sweet tell me his name later and I'll grab it" and then eats a frozen adventurer he kept around as a snack.

His followers tend to quickly realise that if they fail him, bringing some temple's silver or a sack of brightly coloured beads or a couple of dead cows means he's super forgiving because at least he's got something out of the day. "Oh boy, cows? It's been forever since I had those, ever since the Orc Steppe Nomads took over it's all about goats and onions. Today is a good day." He's a master of delegation by dragon standards, in that he just tells you "Just go get it done, I don't care how" rather than micromanaging you and constantly appearing as an image in smoke or taking over your campfire.

The key part of Face-Biter Mike as a threat to players (because he exists in the context of a D&D campaign) works well in that you can rely on several known quantities:

He will not pull sneaky shit that you don't see coming

He will not make convoluted plans that you must work to unravel

He will consistently attempt to come down and wreck you personally if he finds the opportunity and you are a threat to him

You cannot fight him head-on (at least not until the last leg of the campaign, and ideally as an optional boss rather than mandatory)

So as long as you are good at staying under the radar, thwarting his minions (whom he gives broad orders to with almost zero oversight) and not putting yourself in face-biting range, you can deal with him. If you succeed, it won't be the first time Mike has lost his assets and had to go brood in his glacier for a decade or two before rebuilding. It happens; he can deal with it. And that's a win for you within the context of a single campaign, so take the win.

And if you're not going to use him as an enemy, he works pretty well as a quest-giver, too! The costs for failure are obvious and straightforward, and "do whatever, just get me mine" means that players have a lot of freedom in accomplishing their goals. As far as evil overlords go he is actually one of the least dangerous to work for; his pride is relatively subdued by draconic standards, his goals are simple and typically achievable, and he is easily pleased.

(There's also a good chance he is the forefather of any draconic sorcerer in your party, because Face Biter Mike is a deadbeat dad.)

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

First off I LOVE your writing, I’m so happy you’re taking requests again so, may I please request something with Ghost? Like the reader is part of the 141 and Ghost has a soft spot for her and is very protective of her and both having feelings for each other but not saying anything bc both think the other one deserves better or just something like that🥹😮‍💨💖🙏🏻 feel free to keep practicing smut for this one!👀✨

You’re awesome 🥰💞

Blood Was Its Avatar

PAIRING: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

SYNOPSIS: Getting close to you was never his plan, but when he can't stop his self-protective instincts from pushing you away, will he be able to repair your strange friendship? Or will his body have to speak for him? (18+)

WORD COUNT: 8.9k

WARNINGS: Angst, blood, wounds, stitches, death, smut, p in v, throat f-ing, degradation, dom/sub dynamics, implied pain kink, hair pulling, hate sex? but not really?, semi-clothed sex, vulgar language, fluff at the end, etc. just pure filth.

A/N: This is sub-par because I was up until 4 in the morning today and didn't have the energy to edit in-depth lmfao, but enjoy Anon!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

All of Ghost’s problems started and ended with you. He was impressed with that fact, actually. 

They call you ‘Masque’ on account of the mission from years back, ‘07 Ghost recalls easily. When you’d been pinned down and surrounded, the dead bodies of your unit all around your feet. You’d chosen to act while the others had been yelling orders over the radio—rooting around the pooling blood on the ground and slathering your face with it; your body. 

You pretended to be dead. 

Quick thinking, Ghost had told you with a glint in his eye when you’d gotten back, those whites of your eyes ten times more noticeable. Like the moon hanging around a crimson-drowned sky. 

You’d cursed him out and said of course it was, quoting some poem from Edgar Allen Poe as a joke.

“Blood was its Avatar and its seal—the redness and the horror of blood.” The Masque of the Red Death. Your claim to survival apparently, as you had just read it a day before.

Ghost said you were bloody fucking crazy and found his eyes darkly watching the way you smirked at him. How the dried blood on your lips would splinter at your loud chuckle as you both entered the C17.

As he knew—all of his problems started and ended with you. Today was no different.

“Damn! Lookin’ good today Ghost, are those new gloves I spy?” You were always so…bubbly. 

“Masque,” the masked-man greats blandly, not even sparing you a look as you enter the meeting room. The screen on the far wall was hooked up to Price’s computer—broadcasting its news out into the dim lighting with images of mayhem and a loop of a video containing the bombing of an embassy building in the Netherlands. 

Profile pictures stain the screen of wanted subjects; captured or killed in the crossfire made no difference here, anyone could see it. 

You drop down into the seat beside his own with a huff, body shed of your usual black gear, and wearing casual fatigues instead—your tags jump on your chest and Ghost sees them glint in the light.

Your face shifts into a smile, prodding with a bump of your elbow. The Lieutenant turns and glares dryly while you carry on, “I asked if you got new gloves; they’re nice.” 

“Needed ‘em.” Ghost drawls, seeing no way out of this as he glances around at the multitude of other free seats. No one else was here yet, and Price had needed to step out for a moment to grab another report from his office one floor up. 

A small grunt echoes from his throat before his eyes dart back to yours. Shifting in his seat, his lax posture tenses before loosening. 

Raising a brow at Ghost, you stifle a laugh.

“That’s it?” He blinks at you slowly, those bright blues trapping you as they shine out from his skeletal visage; his great body hidden under layers of Kevlar and thick canvas cloth. Like some weird and deadly present. You tease him, “No attempt at a conversation, Ghosty? That hurts.”

You sarcastically put a hand to your chest. 

“Then suffer.” Ghost states like he’s reading the newspaper, stretching out one of his wrists by rolling it until it cracks the joints. Where was everyone else? “I’m not fuckin’ talking about bloody gloves, Masque.”

“It’s called a conversation starter!” Under the mask, he raises a dull eyebrow. You glower at him, but the smirk on your lips shows how much you enjoy this.  

“For who? Could have jus’ stayed quiet, then.” Scoffing, you roll your eyes and indulge him—pointedly going silent. Almost immediately an awkward nothingness covers the room with its metaphorical blanket and Ghost’s muscles slowly go stiff as he crosses his arms slowly over his chest. You bite your lip and stamp down a snort. 

A minute spreads like molasses. Two. Three. Five.

“Alright,” Ghost growls, breaking as you pick at your cuticles, humming horribly off-tune to a point where the Lieutenant’s ears were ringing and annoyance faired. “Fucking hell stop it, just say something already to shut up that noise. Sounds like my damn brakes squealin’.” 

You stop and laugh loudly, elbowing him again as he jerks away with a low grunt. Blue flashes, and his heart pounds.

“Jeez, Lieutenant, is my humming that bad for you?” The air rolls with tension.

“More effective than torture.” Ghost utters, his Manchester drawl violent and thick as it coats your ears. You take no offense—you’d been doing it on purpose, anyways; always the one to exploit cracks in the concrete. You'd found out a lot through your studies of the man beside you. Mostly, all of the small tics and unique qualities that made Ghost such a strange character. 

On the battlefield, the large man was resilient and patient. He could wait in one spot for days if he had to, sitting for a perfect shot. Nothing could break the line of purpose and authority he had over the units he was placed in or his fighting spirit. Gunbattles, torture, you name it he’d survived it. 

But he disliked anything below scalding hot tea, detested his objects and packs being messed with…and clenched his hidden jaw at small, repetitive, noises.

Low, horrible, humming, tapping fingers, tongues clicking over and over. You had no idea why, but the sight of making this experienced and handsome man glare at you with annoyance made your face heat up. 

You chuckle in the meeting room, eyes crinkling up at him before you reach for one of the pens and notepads on the table. Clicking the bottom, you shrug and start to scribble nothing into the side margins as blue ink bleeds like foreign blood. 

“What’s Price got for us today, then?” Your voice echoes, “We shipping out with the others or going Black again?” 

The Captain usually paired the two of you up for Black Ops for a reason—Ghost the strategic mastermind to your reckless bloodlust. Push and pull. 

Missions were rarely a failure. 

Ghost sighs, finally getting the sensation of control back into him. “Black,” he begins, “least for us. Old Man’s sending Garrick and Johnny out in hopes of drawin’ a few bastards out first. Netherlands. We slip in the back—off the books, ‘course.” 

He watches you from the side of his eye, gaze following your pen as you sketch out a small stick figure with a skull for a face. Ghost stifles a huff as he scratches at the side of his face.

“Well, of course,” you slyly tease, glancing at him before looking back to your pad. “Are we getting any soldiers?” 

“None. Just us.” 

“Ooo,” Ghost watches your lips curl and feels his body slowly still. “Sounds like fun.”

“It sounds like I’m going to have to babysit again,” you laugh again and dark blue seems to spark with some strange emotion. Ghost clears his throat and takes down a breath.

“Oh, please,” you chuckle, “I’ve saved your hide a few times before, Ghosty, be nice to me.”

“Nice isn’t in the job description, Masque.” 

“Well, it isn’t for you, grumpy. I think Johnny and Gaz are lovely.” Your nose tilts up teasingly as Ghost grumbles like a cat. “But that’s alright, I like you anyways.” Winking, you go back to your pointless scribbling as footsteps echo from the hallway. 

Ghost stares, his hands on the armrests slowly clenching into fists as he studies your expression. His eyes slid over scars and blemishes he’d already looked at a million times over, seeing in his mind’s eye the stains of blood and that every present smile—the burn of your presence beside him like a brand in his stomach. You never seemed to let him get too far away from you on Ops, but it wasn’t some form of obsession. It was worry; he’d seen it. 

You didn’t like it when you couldn’t see his back ahead of yours. Ghost guessed it had to do with your lost unit. He never pressed it. 

In fact, he’d noticed himself not eager to see you off himself. Had spent many a night in the onsite gym after missions because of it, where he’d given you the cold shoulder after. He didn’t like that feeling. That hesitation. 

Ghost knew only to trust people as much as he had to…so why did he like when you said nice things to him? His jaw clenches, shoulders rolling to dispel tension as he rips his eyes away from your body as if you were fire incarnate. Your head perks up at the sound of talking voices getting closer to the meeting room. 

Soap and Gaz enter a few moments later and Price shuffles in behind them. You smile warmly and greet them, shifting the notepad closer to yourself nonchalantly. 

Ghost grunts and stays stationary, straightening up when he realizes he's slightly leaned toward you during your conversation. His new gloves pull taunt over his knuckles and he suddenly wants to rip them off. 

—

You begin to wonder when you’ll be free from blood coating your fingers but know deep down you never will be. At least, not if this was how you’d be getting covered in it.

Sitting inside the hotel bedroom, you slowly extract a blood-coated bullet from Ghost's large thigh, grimacing when he grunts from over you. You’re in between his legs, kneeling, as the metal finally breaks free from the skin barrier—the entry wound is small but nonetheless dangerous. His pants were cut from thigh to knee, a long spit that showed pale, scarred skin. 

Keeping a tight grip on the forceps, you hum under your breath in satisfaction. 

“No bullet fragments—lucky you.” 

Ghost forces out, “Yeah, feelin’ proper lucky.” You chuckle, moving back and dropping the bullet to a food plate you’d put on the floor. Shuffling, you take up the rag placed over your upper arm and bring it back up. Patting the gushing wound, you frown and think back on the events that got you here as the Lieutenant shifts and bites his tongue. 

The intensity in his blue eyes burns into you, lungs deeply inhaling with a silent breath. Your fingers tingle, but you diligently press the fabric to the wound and try to ignore the heat from Ghost’s flesh or how his legs flinch with every trail of your nails. His muscles are pure iron around you, and you’re suddenly very aware of the position you’re in. 

Swallowing stiffly, you sigh and notice him slightly shiver when your breath caresses his upper leg. You stop immediately, lips going tight.

It had been fifteen minutes earlier when Soap and Gaz had set up in a far more open and less secluded hotel three blocks away—directly across from the base location for your gaggle of targets. As planned, you and Ghost would be off the books and go in when they were too distracted by the Sergeants’ in plain sight. 

Fire was supposed to be the cover story. Go in, take care of business, and set the place alight after the area was clear of civilians. But no one was counting on the targets being surrounded by three more friends. 

Of course, guns lead to bullets and bullets to flesh. You can still hear the ringing in your head when Ghost had jerked you to the slide and shoved you behind the far wall—skull snapping back to look in horror as his leg exploded with gore. 

Fucking bastard had been distracted by you and hadn’t had time to dodge. That wasn’t Ghost, but then again, Ghosty wasn’t quite the same, was he? Least, not to you.

“You’re a fool, you know that?” You huff, something swirling in your chest as your gloves peel the layer of cut pants farther down to see better. “You should have looked after yourself.”

“And what?” Ghost grumbles, letting you do what you wanted to him.  “Let you get fuckin’ shot, Masque—you have a bloody death wish?” His last word comes off with a growl as you press tighter into his thigh. 

His hand instantaneously snaps out to grasp the back of your hair tightly with an instinctual low groan. Naturally, a small whine exits your lips in retaliation.

You both freeze and the room jumps up to a hundred degrees; your lower body flips as your skin burns a million degrees. Fingers still, you feel your breath hitch when his calloused fingers scrape your scalp, your hair in his expansive palm. It was a pure reaction you knew, and when you’d asked him to let you help out with this problem you had thought this might happen—he’s a soldier after all, just like you.

But he hadn’t denied you. If anything, since six missions back, you were the only person who he wanted to work on him. He’d never said why. 

You look up at him from the side, eyes wide with shock and embarrassment. Ghost’s heart skips beats before he clears his throat, snapping his hand back immediately and slamming it to the mattress. A second of strained silence settles where you both try to forget what the fuck just happened.

“Keep bloody going then,” He says, deep and grating to a point where you shove down a shiver. Your head feels light off of his scent, and you have to ask yourself why you’re feeling so feverish all of a sudden. 

You bite your lip and nod, hand moving away to grab at the sanitized needle and thread with your forceps—dropping the rag back onto your forearm to let it hang. For once in your life you’re left mute by his actions. 

Mute to the fact that you’d liked them. 

Your face burns like a hidden fire; epidermis alight with the strength to rival the flames the two of you had started fifteen minutes ago. Lungs stutter and hands inside the gloves go clammy. It’s only after you were halfway done with the stitches that you mutter words.

“Shouldn’t have taken that bullet, Ghost.” He had been stone still the entire time, hands clenched beside him and his thighs like rocks. Feet firmly planted. It was like he was barely breathing, too. 

Ghost blankly stares, staying quiet as you continue. 

“You were distracted. That never happens.” His form was almost entirely shadowing you; great spanning shoulders from above tight like a looming statue. You dig the needle deeper with a push of the forceps, threading through yielding skin with quick punctures. He doesn’t even flinch. 

Ever since ‘07, there was an obvious aversion to partners stemming from you. You distanced yourself from forming close bonds with those who you hadn’t already known. In many ways, Ghost and the others of One-Four-One were the closest you could get to people now.

Ghost, you admit, was far closer than all the others combined. 

But this sentiment was known—both the aversion and the care you held. The Lieutenant wasn’t good with words, but he knew how to read you better than anyone; the way you carried yourself. He knew you didn’t like it when he got hurt in front of you. 

Ghost had to ask why he even bothered to shove you out of the way, regardless. You would have been fine. So why had his eyes gone wide and his iris flared with a dead glow when he’d seen the gun swivel in your direction? The man grunts at a deep dig from your sutures but you continue to mutter to yourself as he glares at the far wall, venom-like. 

His sin was that he had grown to care about you. His burden and his curse. 

This couldn’t continue. 

Ghost looks down at you with a sheen of distanced nonchalant-ness and when you lent back with a sigh of your lips, his body moved. You blink in surprise as you feel his muscles bunch and before you know it you’re being grabbed harshly by the arms and lightly shoved to the side. 

“Ghost!” You snap, eyes narrowing dangerously as he stands to his feet—blood training down his thigh and kneecap before disappearing back under the stained cargos. “What the fuck?! I’m not done with it.” 

Attempting to stomp closer, he swivels his head to you as his spine goes formal. Your feet stall from under you and your veins pump faster, forceps and slick gloves freezing mid-air. 

You blink. He’d only ever looked at you like that when you’d first met. 

Blue is a silent sheen of ice and cold death; black sockets behind his mask are more like voids holding chilled sapphires. 

Why was he looking at you like he didn’t know you? Once more you say, confused and suddenly small, “Ghost?” 

“Enough.” His voice was monotone and barky, the tone final. Your fingers tense at the sound. What…what was this? “You need to get your head back on, Masque. I can’t watch over you like a bloody Private every time you get stiff-legged, copy?” 

Your jaw slackens. Inside, your heart smashes itself into your ribs in a violent pang. There’s a moment of complete and utter silence in which Ghost remains standing with concrete tied to his feet. He sees the flash of confused hurt in your eyes, the way your muscles jump for a moment.

A suffocating wave of regret strikes him, but he felt like he had to do this—keep up boundaries. Even if his throat was closing in an attempt to make him shut up. 

Ghost’s accent makes him sound harsh and unforgiving. “Price’ll need us back in fifteen. Get your shit together.” 

He bends down and snatches bandages with a quick hand, beelining to the bathroom and closing the door with a firm hand. Blankly, you stare at the barrier as the wall rattles; face burning—unable to speak beyond a small sound in the back of your mouth. 

The two of you stay separated for the remainder of the time, not speaking, and not moving from your respective areas. 

When Ghost finally leaves ten minutes after he’d pushed back the self-loathing and guilt, freshly bandaged, he finds your stuff already gone. He glances around the area slowly, taking in the wails of the fire trucks from blocks away and the neighboring rooms of the hotel as residents speak in mutters from behind walls. The air is cold and lifeless. 

He grabs his things in total silence, swallowing down saliva paired with long breaths. Ghost’s eyes remain tight. Body wound and coated in rigidity that could rival a rhino’s armored plates.

Mind whirling, but still ever mute, he leaves the hotel and heads to the coordinates Price had given the two of you alone. The absence of your warm body beside his was more jarring than anything he’d expected to experience.

Ghost didn’t want to admit how many times his eyes trailed to the empty concrete at his left.

—

When you lose something in someone, you tend to lose it hard. Thus still, that was the case here. Ghost and you always jabbed at each other—it was in your nature to do so—but this was different. The Lieutenant could be cold, but…never to the extent to shove you away from helping him with his wounds. 

Both of you always did that with the other, if that be physically or just being in the same room, while getting fixed up. 

If Ghost didn’t want you around for whatever rage-inducing reason, you weren't going to grovel or beg. The sudden switch-up still stabbed you in the heart though. 

On the second week, it got easier. 

You passed by Ghost without a single comment, shifting into the meeting room once more. He grunts as you shimmy through the door right before him, his feet halting before he runs into you. 

“Fuckin’ ‘ell, Masque, you lost your bloody eyes or something?” You don’t answer, blankly walking to the end of the table and taking the single chair with steady steps; sitting down and dragging a notepad to your general area. 

Blinking, you look up at the projection and skim the small details they give over. 

Ghost stares from the doorway, clenching his jaw. After a moment, he slips inside and slowly strides to the table. 

The days had been difficult for him, struggling to re-situate himself to his isolation after you’d been with him for years. Sure he had Johnny, Gaz, and Price, but you were…

Ghost places a veiny hand on the back of a chair about four down from yours, knuckles white as he’d shed his gloves not five minutes ago. His eyes stay stuck to the tabletop, hips shifting. He hadn’t thought it would be this hard to push you out. Not only physically but mentally. 

He found himself thinking of your face at night. Like a phantom, it would snap into his consciousness when the lights went out and the shadows got long. Your smile and your skin. How your fingers would gently press into his flesh when you were threading a needle through him—shivers of pleasure and pain intertwined by the scrape of your nails. 

Ghost’s hand tightens on the chair, and you spare him a tense glance as he seemingly fights within his mind. 

The Lieutenant wonders at your willpower and your drive. He spent the weeks hating that he had gotten what he wanted, and then he hated himself more because of that fact. It was good to keep you away from him. Not only for himself but for you. 

You both were becoming too….attached. Ghost would have none of it. It had bled over into him using his own body to protect yours that was just…was just…

“...Those new tags, then?” You look away from the screen and shift your gaze to him as his voice bounces. 

Around your neck, the new reflective metal of your new dog tags glint. Your heart skips when he speaks to you, but he still doesn’t look your way.

“That an apology?” Deadpanning, your unimpressed gaze glares into his face as his hand strangles the chair. 

The room returns to strained silence. You huff.

“Pretty shitty one there, asshat.” Ghost’s shoulders roll under his gear, a great sigh quickly exiting him. Everyone had noticed the tension over time—it was becoming a detriment to the team.

The Lieutenant’s blue eyes darken, and in his body, a great heat was beginning to burn. Just looking at you provoked lucid and vulgar thoughts, and as the dim light from the projector makes shadows on your face, Ghost traces them with a chained desire. Being away from you was a physical pain to him, but he also knew that being around you was worse. 

All of Ghost’s problems may have started and ended with you, but they also grew in his own head. They’d been there in the back corners ever since he’d given you your nickname; found out he liked the way your face was wet with spilled blood and sweat. Your body. Your hands on the hard flesh of his upper thigh…trailing up... 

Ghost’s pants get tight as he stares without saying anything. Watching you scribble on your notepad. Glaring. 

“Why can’t I get you out of my fucking head?” Your ears twitch at the low growl as if coming from a beast; seconds later, your brain catches up to process the words. Your pen stops its pointless scrawling just as your breath does. Ghost spits out, seeing your form straighten in the chair, “Every bloody thought, you’re right there!” 

His boots stomp to the floor, and before you know it a hand is trapping the back of your head, fingers carding through hair to angle your chin up. Your breath gasps out as your wide eyes lock on Ghost’s, his hold tight but not uncomfortable; as if he knows the perfect amount of pressure to make your blood surge and your pupils expand.

You stare into volatile blue with silver flecks, a skeletal mask stained from dirt and blood. Ghost’s thumb digs into your scalp. 

“Answer me, Masque,” he grunts, accent so thick you momentarily struggle to string the words together in your stupor. 

Ghost’s nose is close to yours; breathing in each other’s air as the temperature rises. Your throat bobs with a swallow. Below you, you feel your legs clench together as the Lieutenant's fingers lightly pull on your roots when you don’t respond—small sparks of electricity run down your spine that make it straighten instinctually. A soft purr flies from your lips; face on fire as your lashes flutter. Your hands clench at the dull pulse in your lower body.

The Brit’s dead eyes stare down at you, glinting; studying you deeply with growing satisfaction in his heart and tension in his boxers. 

You both glare half-lidded, panting, and flesh heated. 

“Is this your apology?” He tightens his hand and you bite your lip, small whine meeting his ears as he represses a groan at the sound. Your voice was breathy but smug. 

“You fucking wanted this, you naughty little beast,” Ghost growls, moving even closer to tower over you. “You’re playin’ me.” You mold into him as you still sit in your chair, your chin set onto his upper abdomen as the midsection of your breasts presses into his crotch; brushing against his hardened bulge firmly. 

You shiver at the feeling, your core leaking out slippery fluids to stain through your pants one second at a time. Every twitch of his fingers leaves you wanting to arch into him. Feel him.

Ghost feels your hands go to wrap his open thighs, nails digging into the back of his pants as his mouth opens under the mask to force out air. 

“You liked me in between your legs, didn’t you?” Your tiny, teasing, voice serenades him as he quickly begins to lose control of his composure. 

“Shut it,” Ghost grunts, mind yelling at him to move away, “Shut your damn mouth.” 

Those pupils were so wide his eyes were almost entirely black, feral chest moving quickly. 

“I already know why you snapped at me…” One of your hands travels back to the Lieutenant’s front, skin tingling at the scratch of a belt and the rough fabric of his cargos. You leave it over his crotch and add a tight amount of pressure; mouth lightly opening at the weight and size of him as Ghost grunts deeply, thighs jerking forward. 

Blinking at his glassy eyes you breathe out into thick air and the veiled threat of something more. His hand in your hair is so tight that you feel your pulse under the tendrils—you enjoy every second of this cat-and-mouse game. 

After all, no one knew who the mouse was yet.

You rub your hand up and down and watch Ghost’s clothed dick, feeling his muscles straining to keep himself in control. He lets you continue as he watches with a clenched jaw, his pants getting gradually wet with precum; hips twitching. 

“...You can’t get enough of me touching you, can you?” Your statement ignites something immediately, and you’re being grabbed by your shoulders and forced to your feet. 

Staring wildly, you cringe at the soaking patch under your clothes but let Ghost place your backside on the table. He presses into your hips to keep you there—legs opened and feet planted to the floor below on their tip-toes.

The man breathes like a lion, nose in front of yours. You slightly smirk at the far-off haze in his eyes, lust and pleasure blending and bleeding into the almost bruising hold he uses to press you down.

He watches you for a minute or two—taking in your scent and the rabid instinct that infects the both of you now that everything was on the table. 

You knew you were right; he knew you were right. Licking your lips you look down and stare at his blatant hard-on hungrily. Your brow raises slowly.

“You going to let me take care of that, Ghosty?” He’s up and locking the door after he slims it shut.

“This is it,” Ghost grunts, “one time, Masque. That’s fucking it, you hear?” 

“Awe,” You cue, swishing your legs as he stomps back over, hand grasping his belt and whipping it off with a flex of his forearm. Your core tightens, hips trying to press back into the table. “That's so cute. You think once is enough.” 

A hand captures your jaw, “I said,” he breathes, the other hand going to shift up the bottom of his mask up to his nose. You gasp at the sight of blond stubble and milky scars. A strong jaw wound like a spring. Ghost’s musk invades your nose and you feel your palms so clammy. “...Shut it.”

Hard lips slam into yours.

Like some game between the two of you, your mouths fight one another with aggressive grunts stuck in your throats, sharp inhales of air between partings. Ghost’s lips mold and conform to yours, clinging around the supple flesh—there’s a deep-rooted intensity, a hunger, and a desire mixed with sweet stubbornness. The tang of metal and old canvas opens to you just as your mouth does when his teeth bite down at your skin.

Quickly sucking down breaths, you feel his tongue push past layers and slip into your awaiting clutch; Ghost groans lowly and explores as his hands bare down into your hips, one making its way to grip at your hair again. Your own dig into his waist as he leans over you. 

He latches onto your hair and peels you back from him, tongue sliding out of your mouth as he moves to nip at your chin—angling your head whichever way he wants to. Your skin burns as the man bites down at your neck, hot saliva stuck to your lips as your chest pants fast with a low whine at the mixture of pain and bliss. 

Below you, your legs are wide to allow Ghost to stand between you, his firmness leaving your hips canting at every hickey he leaves behind and how he shivers into you as you move against him. It was addicting to him—your taste and how your flesh yields to him as he clamps down on it ruthlessly and rapidly. In no time he’d traveled the length of the area behind your ear and down the swell of your shoulder; shirt pushed back by his nose.

“Oh, fuck,” you breathe, eyes glassy as you blankly stare into the far wall over the Lieutenant’s shoulder; your panties are soaked through and the evidence can be felt. A long whine exits your chest when Ghost licks at the deep marks he left behind, blown eyes coming back to stare at you head-on as if in a trance.

His lips are red and swollen, mouth open with silent, fast, breaths. His large chest moves quickly over yours. He orders you in a hoarse voice; strained, “Get on your knees.” 

Licking your lips your widened gaze stays locked on his, the hand in your hair tight and keeping you away from slamming your mouth back to his. The air is electric, both of your bodies yielding to one another's even if you don’t realize it. 

As much as you wanted to scoff and roll your eyes at the comment, to make him apologize to you for what he’s done, you realize that your body has already complied with the request. Slipping off the table, Ghost watches like a hawk and backs up two steps—feet splayed as you move for him. Your knees slowly lower you down to the floor, connecting with the carpet as you sag, fists clenched and shaking. 

There’s a small, heart-pounding, pause. “...Good girl.”

Your jaw drops at the smirk on Ghost’s face and those flashing dead eyes of his, blood thumping with a newly ingrained need. You swallow and feel your throat bob; legs shifting to push back the inner-body itch that grows by the second. 

“Now you can listen to me, yeah? Such a slut for it.” Ghost’s hands slowly trail to his pant’s zipper, sliding the piece down the teeth with barely audible metal on metal. Your fingers twitch at every small pop; how the zipper itself had to move forward with the strain of his sizable erection. You can’t even look away from it—how his pants are stiff against tense thighs and the sleeves of his shirt are rucked up to show the black ink of tattoos.

Ghost had tattoos. 

When the teeth had run out and the man’s hands grappled for the waistband of both his cargo and his boxers, you’d found out you’d been staring the entire time, pupils so wide they matched Ghost’s and the black stain of his face-paint. 

“Fuckin’ hell, Masque,” he grunts, knuckles white and going still, “bet your pretty little cunt is soaked and I ‘aven’t even shown you my bloody dick yet, eh? Well, the thing’ll ‘ave to wait, I’m puttin’ that mouth to good use first. Teaching it who to listen to.”

You startle back, blinking away the burning heat on your cheeks that leaves you uncharacteristically stuttering at the vulgar degradation. But Ghost doesn’t notice, doing what he can to move the various straps along his thighs and his upper hips to be able to free himself quickly—eager and dripping to be down your throat. 

The throat and mouth he’d fantasized about for ages. 

Stiffing down a whiny moan, you finally see the veiny girth of Ghost’s cock as it comes free over the top of the tight white cotton of his boxers; a happy trail extending up his visible abdomen when his wrist snatches it out. 

“Put to good use?” You breathe out, “Christ, you’re going to make me fucking mute, Ghosty.” 

“Well, Sweetheart,” he breathes a sigh of relief as he plays with the leaking tip with his thumb. Your hands itch to brush against your achy clit, the pressure in your chest almost enough to make you sob at the sheer nothingness. Sweat glistens over your forehead. Eyes glare at you as you watch thighs tense and loosen. “That’ll be fine by me. Don’t need you speaking when I’m paintin’ your damn cunt with my cum, do I?” 

Jesus, you both were in the fucking meeting room. Going to fuck in the meeting room. 

You lick your lips and stare as Ghost stalks close again, gripping your chin and opening your jaw with his thumb and first finger. His dick was right in front of you, and you can smell sex and sweat like an animalistic aphrodisiac as it coats your brain with lust as you moan out. 

Your arms tense with a want to reach and touch it, watch as Ghost falls apart below the twist of your wrist. It was so addictive you feel yourself clench at the visual, your body shivering violently. 

“Oi, fucking focus.” Your tongue sneaks out and licks Ghost’s finger and he feels his grip tighten on you with a puff of hot air. “Little brat.” 

He stares into your mouth and breathes deeply as a smirk peels the edges of your lip. Blue swirls with anticipation. 

“Keep it open, then.” Ghost’s hand drops from you and you easily keep your mouth open as his hand goes back to his cock, grasping it firmly as the other finds the top of your head. You shiver and shift your thighs under you, your body striking like a drum to oxycontin and adrenaline. “That’s a girl…” The Lieutenant growls, and the tip of his dick slips into your saliva-dripping mouth with hidden fever. “Fuck.” 

Your eyes flutter at the taste, letting him maneuver your face closer to the base as your hands snap to his thighs—nails digging in and eliciting a sharp inhale as you press into the two-week-old wound under his pants. Ghost curses under his breath but watches in flooding pleasure at the image of his cock disappearing farther and farther into you. Inch by inch you tell yourself to breathe through your nose; feeling the make of his veins and the mushroomed tip traveling farther and farther back. 

Moaning in the base of your neck, Ghost instinctually jerks his hips at the sound, feral grunts trapped in his chest. Your eyes go wide with the prickle of tears, not from pain but from the surprise as you gag. His hold on your hair tightens and you mewl as he continues to lose himself to the feeling of your wet heat. 

He was so big it was like your throat was ripping new sinews just for him, and you reveled in every moment of the feeling of his predatory gaze.

“So bloody tight for me—can’t wait to be in that cunt of yours…can’t be better than this. Have to test it.” He talks more when he’s horney. 

Slightly gagging again at the sheer size, his palming hand presses you deeper and you take him as well as you’re able, still space between your nose and his pelvis as your knees dig harder into the ground. Ghost groans gutturally, head slightly lulling back and panting like a dog, looking down at your red eyes and far-off gaze. Your hands kneed his upper thighs and he smirks slowly. 

Without another word and with sweat staining him under his uniform, bits and bobs from his gear start to clink together and dance as his hips set a rough pace; you find your head being puppeteered back and forth with his thrusts as your scalp flames from his hold. Tears burn immediately.

“Yeah, that’s it—such a good little slut for me, Masque. Gettin’ it down, fuck,” Ghost pants, as you hollow your cheeks, back arching into you and leaving your nostrils flaring to take down air for your spasming lungs. The sight above you was sinful. 

Your Lieutenant in full gear, pants and skin-tight boxers stretching and shoved down just under the clutch of his crotch. With every back-and-forth motion, the zipper grazes the underside of your engorged throat as every vein can be undoubtedly seared into your esophagus like a brand. 

Ghost’s eyes flutter and flinch, but never once does his hazy gaze leave your mouth as he continues to jerk your head back and forth. Saliva drips drown your chin and the nearly painful burn in your navel lets you know how true this was a relief not only for Ghost but for you as well. You wanted to touch yourself, but you can’t stop touching the Brit—not for a second. Shit, you think you could fall apart just by looking at this; you were sure Ghost was thinking the same thing. 

“Look at that, makin’ such a fucking mess of you.” His abdomen tightens and rolls with every jerk and rut, and your eyes roll back with a deep whine in the back of your throat when he hits the back of your throat. Sweat splatters down your temple as the air is steeped with animalistic desperation. Ghost whines thickly in answer and seems to speed up as your hands claw at his thighs. “You like that, pet? Huh? Being my little cock-sleeve.” 

Your nails dig deeper into his flesh and he shivers wildly; eyes flash at the sight of himself disappearing into you and exiting just after as the slap of wet skin reverberates. The tension in his chest increases and he starts to desperately kneed at your hair. 

“If I’d known you’d take it down like this, I’d-I’d have made you hate me sooner, yeah?” Tension fizzles up his jaw and you know he’s close by how he bites down into his lip and tilts his head back. 

Instinctual tears travel down your sweat-slick face, the thought of being used like this vulgar and as dirty as the sounds that echo in your throat and strike down your spine. 

“Fucking hell,” Ghost gasps, and his pace stutters as he twists your locks. Your teeth graze along his flesh as you dig your thumb into his wound to steady yourself. Whining loudly, the action seems to get to the man using your mouth for his pleasure, as not three rough thrusts later the warm feeling of his cum splatters the back of your throat in thick, hot, spurts. 

Choking for a moment, the widening of your eyes meets Ghost’s fluttering lashes from above. His free hand goes behind you to slam onto the tabletop; back curved over you as he shakes and sputters as he rides out his high. 

Cum drips out of the seams of your stretched lips, and with a deep breath through your nose, your hand lowers from Ghost’s thighs as you carefully pull your face back from his pelvis. The sensation of his cock leaving your mouth and bringing saliva and his fluids with it was animalistic at best, they spill to the floor and off of your chin like a small river. 

Licking your lips, you swallow what you can and try to catch your breath as your chest rages. Blinking rapidly, your eye twitches as you bring a hand up to your sore and ragged throat, Ghost’s heaving body stiff and hunched as he stares at the table blankly. Sweat dribbles down the side of his nose, sneaking out from under the top side of his mask. 

There’s a long minute of nothingness as you both try to breathe and understand the gravity of what you’ve both done. And then you both lock eyes and stare. 

The air stills over as Ghost’s large pupils stare at the mess on your face—seeing it drip down your throat as you tilt your chin up to him. His chest purrs like a cat and you don’t even think he realizes that he does it. 

Two seconds later you’re being manhandled up to the top of the table, backside hitting it as a hand goes to your belt. Lips connect with yours and groan at the taste, the clinking of metal hitting your ears as you submit to his prodding tongue as it licks along your inner flesh. 

Your fingers snap to trail around Ghost’s neck, moaning into him as he slips his hands into your pants, pulling back and ordering, “Up.” Eager and filled with lust, you raise your legs and he rips them down to your knees, dragging you closer to the edge. 

“Good girl.” He smirks, black-smeared eyes creased. If you could speak you’d tell him to shut up and fuck you already. 

Your slick skin meets the air and you gasp, Ghost’s hands waste no time trailing up the flesh of your hips, pitching to make you jump. Glaring, you try to drag him back into you but he’s built like stone, clicking his tongue. When his fingers collect the fluids that drip out of you, you whimper at the stimulation—two calloused fingers getting entranced by that as they stop at your clit. You stare desperately into amused blue eyes as he pressed deep, your thighs tensing as they jerk. 

“Any more of this and you’ll stain the table, won’t you, Sweetheart? I get you this worked up, yeah? Bloody hell.” You pant, and lines form on your forehead at the indecent circling of his fingers; not being gentle as he sees your mouth open and your lungs gasp. Sharp spikes form in your thighs, and they move in tandem with Ghost. “Look at that…” 

Deep chuckles mock you, but you both know this has to be fast—and with how worked up you were, it would be. 

“Alright, then, brat,” Ghost takes his hand away and you whimper before he grunts and grips you by the shoulders. Your lust turns to confusion. “Suppose you did well. Let’s make this quick, eh? Got work to do.” 

Flipped around, you squeak as your clothed chest meets the table, ass presented as your feet scramble to connect with the floor. Surprised, you whip your head to the side to stare back at a highly smug Ghost as one of his hands goes to grab onto your supple flesh, massaging it before it sneaks to your hip. 

“Easy with it, I’ll take care of you, Masque.” In little to no time he’s lining himself up with your dripping pussy, so wet it’s easy except for the fact that he’s huge enough to make you mute by a blowjob. Your back arches into the table with a long moan as the length slowly spears you open, instinctually widening your legs as best as you’re able. 

Closing your eyes, you press one of your hands to your mouth to stifle your noises, thighs spasming as Ghost curses under his breath; gear clinking into each other.

“So bloody tight.” With a swift thrust and a knock of your pelvis to the edge of the table, your eyes burn with the feeling of holding Ghost in your most intimate area and the knowledge that he would completely wreck it for anyone else. Your lungs fight for air, but a long mewl exits your fingers as the man shakes over you with restraint. “Christ.”

Tight wasn’t the way to describe it—you were like a fucking noose. Your sensitive walls know every vein and bulge, the scrape and dig, far more intimately than your throat ever could. Like a carved stamp, they’re reforming to Ghost’s dick every second. 

Tapping the side of your forehead to the table, the man can’t help himself anymore and starts to thrust into you; feral squelching and fluids staining the top of his pants. Your face burns, the rocking of the table hypnotic as your toes fight to stay on the ground. The sensation of being so full truthfully made your mind go blank, fingers twitching as Ghost continued to palm at your hip—his other hand going to press into your spine, keeping you stapled to the table. 

His gear slammed and rubbed into your ass, bruising it no doubt, but you found you didn’t care at all. Pleasure rocked down with every ruthless intrusion. 

“Can feel ya ‘round my cock,” you keen at the words, tears dribbling down the side of your face as you try to hold back sobs of pleasure. Ghost increases his pace, rabid slapping echoing off the walls as he feels his sole focus on your mind-shattering bliss. “Can’t have ‘em hear how loud you are, now, can we? Can’t let ‘em know I’m shagging you in their meeting room like a little fucktoy, eh?” 

He angles his hips higher, pushing your farther up the table as his hands only drag you back. Every moment leaves your core tightening even more; molten heat pooling as the edge gets closer. 

Footsteps echo down the hall outside, but both of you are too focused on the other and the ache that only increases like a pair of cuffs. Your mouth lets loose insistent gasps and moans while Ghost breathily groans at every other interval of his ravaging cock as it brushes your cervix. 

You whine loudly, spine arching and legs desperately trying to close. Ghost chuckles and your reaction spurs him on—hitting that same spot over and over again as you sob. 

“Right there, yeah? That it, Masque?” You nod rapidly, and the Lieutenant's grip tightens with a loud grunt, “Fuck, that’s it, bloody slut.” 

The coil in your gut gets tighter, shining with desperate shakes of your body and the numb way you try to meet Ghost’s thrusts before you entirely lose the plot of reality. 

“You’re close,” he breathes, feeling your pussy trying to keep him in, slick trailing down the insides of your thighs and transferring to the Brit’s clothes. His boxers were soaked. “C’mon, then. Don’t disappoint me, Masque. Lemme see you cum on my cock before I fill you up like the good girl you are, yeah?”

Your body spasms, thighs tensing and toes curling at the floor; fingers scratching down the table as you press over your mouth harder in a last-ditch effort to remain in control of yourself. The coil snaps and suddenly you’re digging your forehead into the wood below you, orgasm ripping through you like a knife as cum paints Ghost’s dick as he continues his relentless chase of his second release.

“There it is, fuck, look at all that, Love. Paintin’ me like a naughty fuckin’ portrait.” Ghost gasps, a hand coming up to connect to the table by your head, feeling you completely flood his pelvis—he doesn’t stop even when you whine in overstimulation, fucked-out eyes wide and mouth dripping drool into a small pool. The milky ring at his root grows and grows. With a loud moan, he looks down and watches the vulgar sight rabidly, pounding into your heat as his own end gets closer and closer. 

“Shite,” His forehead hits your spine, taking the skin into his teeth and biting hickeys as his open mouth leaves trails of saliva. “Took me so bloody well, cunt was made just for me.” 

His body shakes and with one last shove from his hips, he spills into you with a loud whimper muffled into your flesh. Teeth biting down so hard that you moan in turn, the spent releases dribble out of you like a stuffed bird. You feel his chest atop you as he places his weight slowly down; the fast-panting mirroring your own. 

Sweat connects the two of you as it bleeds through your clothes, the smell in the air and the scent of delirious sex staining your bodies. 

Your mouth remains open and hoarse, scraped dry. Ghost above you moves delicately as he pulls back up, moving back to peel your messy hair away from your blown eyes. After a moment his small voice hits you—the accent deep. 

“All good?” Your eyes slowly rove to him as he kisses your forehead, shivering violently as he slips out of you; the wet drip of cum hits the carpet in the still silence as you whimper at the feeling. “...Masque?”

Dull concern emanates from his tone and you blink back. You clear your throat and utter in a torn voice, “...P-pretty good apology, Ghosty…S…shit.” 

Smugness burns in his orbs, but the roll of his eyes hides it quickly. The puff of his chest couldn’t be hidden from you, though. 

His hands reach down and hike up your panties and cargos—both items completely wrecked. The large splotch on Ghost’s own clothes showed you that you weren't alone in that aspect. 

As he carefully flips your limp form back over and pulls you up by your arms, you groan in annoyance but shut up when his hands go to zip your zipper and clip back your belt. 

“Couldn’t have had a revelation in your barracks room?” You huff, itching at your throat. “You’re buying me cough drops, you ass.” The state of your voice was laughable. Anyone would know what happened if they spoke to you. 

Ghost sighs and begins with his own clothes, stuffing himself back into his boxers and growling at the chilled fluids on his pants as he pulls them back up. He goes and retrieves his belt before walking back. 

“Acting like you weren’t beggin’ for it.” He slides you a smirk before he grabs onto his mask and begins to cover his jaw. 

Your hand snaps out and stops him. Ghost startles, eyes flashing before his muscles stiffen. You raise a brow and he slightly calms. 

Scoffing, you lean in and place a final kiss on his lips—a tinier and tender kiss. Gaze wide, the man stares off as his heart starts to beat fast again at the firm press. After you’re done your hand goes up and grasps the fabric yourself, carefully re-shrouding the mystery of a man with a smile. 

He watches blankly.

“We okay?” You ask, tilting your head as your lower body aches when you shift on the table. “I miss my annoyingly gruff Ghost. This new one’s a jerk.” A small laugh graces your ears, and it makes you beam. “I know why you did it,” you admit, and hold out a hand between your bodies. “But pushing me away will only hurt the both of us. Let's try this, Ghost. Please.” 

“...You’re makin’ it seem like a good deal, Love…is it?” He holds out a hand of his own, large and scarred hands that had gripped you so tight before utterly loose and awaiting. 

“No clue,” you admit with a smirk, “Wanna figure it out?” Ghost watches as he always does and always will, searching into your eyes for any hint of hesitance or denial. 

“Always liked a challenge.” He grunts and encompasses his hand with yours. You squeeze it and nod, chest light as your normal breath comes back.

“You know what a real challenge is? Trying to take down your fucking dic—” The meeting room handle jiggles and you both snap into action. 

Ghost tosses you your notepad and you slide a shoved-away chair his way on shaky legs, slipping into a free seat with failing knees. You both sit side by side on the opposite side of the table, shoulders bumping and faces hot not three seconds later. Ears twitch at the sound of a key entering the slot. 

You try to act normal and begin messing around with your notepad, stealing a pen from Ghost’s gear as Price opens the door. At the sight of the two of you, he pauses and stands in the doorway.

“Ghost…Masque.” With a squint, Price looks around the room slowly, confused at the rod-straight spine from his Lieutenant and the way you awkwardly scribble nothing onto your pad. 

“Price,” Ghost utters as you look up and fake smile, waving as you tighten your hips under the table in an attempt to hide the evidence spilling out of you. 

The Captain continues to stare, scrutiny in his eyes, for at least a full minute. 

“Problem, then?” The Lieutenant asks. Price’s lips thin and he gains a sheen of deep annoyance. You groan under your breath and knock your head to the table at the next comment.

“In the fucking meeting room?!”

TAGS:

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[cashmoneyyysstuff]

m'starting to get my groove back no emperor so here's a lil valentines day piece i wrote, hope yall enjoy ♡ ! ( a lil bit more love for the hopeless romantic singles like me, ppl in a relationship yall can get that from your s/o's..still love yall tho ♡)

fem reader, katsuki is a nervous lil thing, his friends don't help( they do end up helping him out tho), just pure fluffyness, bksquad boys are sassy towards each other but all in good fun, bkg is a softie, kirimina kinda hinted but eiji shuts it down take it how u wanna, food n takeout mentions,dude talk written by a girl trying her best, kirishima's sheets smell bad lemme know if i missed sum else ♡ !! (no friends to lovers mentioned in this one btw..starting to feel myself goin thru withdrawal already..), not rlly reader oriented like usual but i thought this was cute lol i like the idea of katsuki caring about us so much he goes out his way to ask for help from others (despite hating doing so)teehee (also i like the idea of these silly guys interacting and i like hc-ing them okay okay i'll stop rambling okay-)

the last thing kirishima expected at 9.34 pm was someone basically busting down his door with how hard they were knocking on it.

eijirou opens the door urgently and is even more suprised to see his foul mouthed best friend on the other side of the door.

"woah, bakugou, man !" he exclaims seeing the state his friend was in. his eyes looked droopy and his clothes were wrinkled up like he had done a lot of moving around. usually, he would've assumed his friend had just awoken from a good nap, but his restless expression said otherwise. "what happened to you ? you look—"

" 'm fine." bakugou gruffs hoarsely, taking a deep breath at his friends widened eyes, softening up his demeanor just slightly " i'm good," he rephrased "just—you gonna let me in or what ?"

eijirou sputters out an "of course, of course" only for his friend let himself in before he could even move aside. though he immediately freezes when he sees-

"woah, kacchan's gone nutso ! " denki exclaims, face turning red from laying upside down on kirishima's bean bag for way too long.

"and he's up past 8 ? must be the apocalypse or somethin' " sero chuckles from his place on the floor near the dresser.

bakugou groans has he flops onto eijirou’s bed "of course you losers are here" his complaint is muffled against the pillows, but not muffled enough to where the rest of the boys can't hear.

"hey ! we were here before you ! 'f anythin', you're the one intruding—!" denki gulps, eyebrows furrowed. he quickly spins around to lay right when he feels the blood rushing to his head, taking a deep breath afterwards. sero chuckles and bakugou deadpans at kaminari for a good fourty seconds before slamming his head back down and groans even louder.

kirishima decides he's at a safe enough distance to sit down on his own bed, without making any sudden moves so as not to anger the beast that is an angry, sleepy bakugou. he places a hand near his friends leg, where he deems he's at safe to ask "what's up man ? you're usually in bed by this time.." he hears sero make a noise in agreement.

"yeah, or he's havin' kissy-kissy time with his giiiirrrlffrrieeeend.." kaminari sings, kicking his feet in the air jokingly. bakugou, to everyones suprise, flinches at the mention of you, then slams his head against kirishima's pillow harder and groaning even louder.

all three friends share a curious-somewhat worried look. kirishima nudges his head in bakugou's direction, silently begging his friends to say something. said friends adamantly shake their heads, as if synchronized, making a cross motion with their arms. kirishima sighs to himself, some friends.

yet again, he is the first one to speak up " did..did something happen between you two, didja fight or something ?" he asks carefully, his entire body is strained and the air in the room is so heavy, everybody present ready to get a big portion of the great lord explodo-bomberkill's anger.

only to be met with bakugou turning around to lay on his back eyebrows strained slightly and eyes absent, thinking about something they don't know "what ? course we didn't fuckin fight, idiot." he answers simply.

the three friends all let out an obnoxious sigh of relief, to katsuki's slight confusion.

"hoo, okay." kirishima answered relieved. he knows you and bakugou don't fight very much (which he thinks is super manly) but he knows that when it happens bakugou get's extremely—EXTREMELY—irritable, so it's best to stay away from him while he has his heart broken for a little bit, unless he reaches out by himself, but that only happens when he feels really bad and came to ask for advice on how to get his boyfriend priviledges back. "soo.." eijirou sings "what happened then ?"

bakugou's face hardens and the group stiffens again, preparing for a latent explosion--perhaps the volcano was still dormant and was about to be set off. the three boys hold their breaths.

bakugou takes a deep breath, a sour expression on his face.

3..

bakugou huffs out a sigh.

2...

he opens his mouth to speak and—his cheeks are turning pink ?

"valentine's day's after tomorrow and i don't know what the fuck to get her."

the three boys slump over and kaminari does so so hard his face bangs against the floor. kirishima feels like he's in a sitcom or some gag anime.

" that's it ?" sero chuckles to himself "what ? you're worried for valentine's day ?" sero mocks, gladly taking the opportunity to mess with the blond "that shit's easy man." he cackles, leaning against the dresser more comfortably.

"yeah dude, all you gotta do is get her some chocolates and like—a teddy bear or somethin' girls love that typa stuff !" kaminari piped up, having lifted his head up from the floor. sero nods and bakugou lifts himself up to scoff at them. it feels like it comes from the deepest depth of his very being and kirishima feels a little hurt, despite not being the target of the attack.

"this is why you losers don't have girlfriends yourselves, so i don't wanna hear anythin' from you." kaminari chokes out an "ouch, dude !" " sides, i'm not just gonna settle for that boring ass shit for my girl. no chance in hell." bakugou concludes gruffly.

"yeah, yeah we get it you're the perfect boyfriend" sero quips bitterly, rolling his eyes. " why'd you come here to ask us if, according to you, we get none ?" he questioned raising an eyebrow.

"i came here for shitty hair, not you bastards." the blond spits, rolling his eyes as well before turning to kirishima, who jumps a little at his friends slightly desperate eyes on him.

"woah, i don't have—what makes you think i would be any help ?" the redhead splutters, waving his hands around.

"don't you have something goin' on with alien chick ?"

"what ?! no dude, we're just friends !"

at that, bakugou's eyes widen the slightest bit before he groans for what feels like the 5Oth time tonight, and flops back onto the bed dramatically, turning his head away from his friend " your fuckin' useless too, then." his friend grumbles angrily.

"hey !" kirishima exclaims "mean ! i help you with your girlfriend troubles all the time without having one !"

bakugou turns to face his friend again with narrowed eyes, before exhaling a frustrated sigh and lifting himself up again, eyebrows furrowed. "your sheets smell like ass by the way." he chides, nose scrunched slightly.

"h-hey !" kirishima reiterates " i was gonna wash 'em !"

bakugou gives him an incredulous look, before shaking his head, sighing.

"well look, how about you just get her something you know she likes, isn't that good enough ?" sero offers, shrugging to himself.

"ou ! i saw a guy on tiktok ask his girlfriend out with wingstop, you could like-" kaminari, despite getting lightheaded before has apparently not learned his lesson as he flips around on his back again "—ask her to be your valentines with some fast food chain she likes, and those cute pink heart balloons they sell at the mall, y'know !"

the boys all hum at kaminari's suprisingly helpful idea. kirishima doesn't wanna say it out loud but he really hadn't expected such a cute idea from his electric friend.

"y'know, i was gonna say you were just hungry with the wingstop thing, but that's actually not a bad idea kaminari." sero hums absentmindedly with an impressed expression on his face. kirishima sweatdrops at his lack of tact but isn't really suprised.

"fuck you, man ! you guys never trust me with this stuff." kaminari whines mostly to himself. "yer track record isn't really the best when it comes to scoring girls, is it ?" sero retorts.

kirishima shakes his head seeing his friends start to bicker. he decides to ignore them and turn to his spiky haired friend, who seems deep in thought "well, what about it ? that sound like a good idea ?" he asks.

"s'not half bad.." his friend mutters in response " it's a good start, i guess."i if he notices how kaminari presses a hand to his chest with a heartfelt look on his face, he doesn't comment on it.

"oh, maybe try the take-out and a movie, i'm assuming you're not trynna have a whole celebration, yeah ?" bakugou grunts in response, his nose scrunches as he cringes thinking about the idea. he shakes his head "no, want it to be..about just the two of us, y'know ?" he utters honestly, in a way that sounds way too out of character from him.

a symphony of awwwss resonates around the room and katsuki feels his cheeks heat up hard as he harshly tells his friends to shut up.

" but seriously i'm curious, you guys are already together right ? why would you need to ask her to be your valentine anyway—shouldn’t that be a given ? " sero wonders.

"i don’t fuckin know, my old hag says it’s about the principal or some shit like that." bakugou sighs, flopping back onto the bed and throwing an arm up over his eyes, it seemed like being up so late was affecting him.

"no way dude, you called your mom ?" kaminari asks, jaw practically reaching the floor (or the ceiling..?) in shock. bakugou flushes and splutters as he hears his friends reaction to this apparently shocking news.

“shut up.” he growls “she says it’s important to show i care.. my old man does it an' they're still together right now so he must be doin' something right.

"woah man.." kirishima uttered in awe " you're goin so far to make your girlfriend happy.." he clenches his fist "s-so manly !" bakugou simply grumbles to himself in response.

"honestly..i didn't expect that from you..like at all."

"fuck off !"

"like genuinely, at all. or maybe like, 0.00003 percent cha-"

" i'll fuckin' kill you tape arms !" bakugou barked, small sparks shooting out of his palms as he kneeled at the foot of kirishima's bed in pursuit of the black haired boy. kirishima swiftly swoops in and grabs his friends arm, quickly putting his finger over his mouth

"shhhh, man !" kirishima shushes. " if we're loud, class rep's gonna hear us !" he hisses.

"or worse, mr. aizawa..." kaminari whimpered.

all four boys share a shiver.

afterwards, bakugou sighs, acting as if him almost literally blowing up at his friend a minute ago hadn't happened and gets up to sit on the side of the bed.

"well whatever, i'm satisfied." he says, a little yawn leaving him "my folks gave me some ideas so i'll use those too." his eyes zip around the room and back to the floor, then he closes his eyes and speaks so quietly kirishima barely catches it

"you guys' idea isn't horrible either so i'll keep it in mind..thanks." he utters a quick " 'r whatever." before suddenly getting up and practically sprinting to the door.

it's quiet in the room as everyone sits stunned and kirishima is the first to speak again "o-oh yeah, no problem man, anytime !" he beamed, though still slightly shocked.

"yeah, no problem..!" kaminari can't seemed to decide if he wants to smile or be stunned. his mouth stuck in an awkward half-smile-half- '°O°-' face.

" course." sero raises a thumbs up and a small smile.

bakugou grunts to himself, graces his friends with a simple "night." then pulling the door open quietly, looking around the hallway quickly before swiftly creeping out the room, closing the door behind him. the boys quickly reciprocate the goodnight quietly before he can fully close it. he stutters at the door for a second longer and kirishima knows he heard them then, so he's satisfied.

it's quiet in the room for about 5 seconds after bakugou's left.

"dude, for some reason that made me feel all warm inside..is that just me ?" kaminari hummed, pressing a hand to his chest.

"nope, me too" sero admits, sighing to himself.

"yeah, same here" kirishima says as well, smiling to himself " he really cares about yn, huh ?"

"i can give him that, yeah" sero stretches, getting up so he can jump onto kirishima's bed.

"dude" he lifts his head up "your sheets do smell like ass." sero snickers.

" I- AM-GONNA-WASH-THEM !! "

afterwards valentines day comes around. the boys don't have valentines of their own but when they see you and katsuki hand in hand, with you holding onto those cute pink heart balloons from the mall, wearing a sweater a little too big for you and a valentines day gift bag in your one hand, with bakugou holding onto a bag of take-out and offering them a single side glance and a nod with a half smirk on his lips, they feel extremely proud of themselves. bakugou reminds himself to tell his friends he owes them one.

[he-calls-me-kitten]

Ahem-

Thoughts on the brothers going on up to F!MC's room (And actually knocking for once since Simeon is over and they don't wanna barge in no matter how much they don't like them being alone) only for F!MC to open the door 🦆-ing disselved. Hair messed up, lipstick smudged, shirt halfway unbuttoned and hanging off their shoulder, her face flushed as she holds onto the doorframe yet totally unfazed by her current appearance as she just casually responds with a 'What's up' like it's normal. (Which probably is-) While Simeon is just on her bed in the background, shirt gone, covered in lipstick and bite marks from his face down to his lower stomach, face flushed as he pants and whines about them leaving

(Oh and MC being like short BC we love short dominant women 😋😋)

- M.🪭🪷

As a short fiesty girl myself, I very much approve this idea. Also um power up and get ready to tell "STAY" cause can you imagine the instant riot this is about to cause?

Or it might be more of a lengthy passive-aggresive couple of days for Simeon if this is the Nightbringer universe we are talking about.

"What's up?" You say with unbelievable nonchalance. The brothers look at you with widened eyes - at your newly exposed skin and the obvious signs of intimacy with someone.

They feel a burning inside them. Whether it's jealousy or the animalistic desire to rebrand you with their marks instead.

And if that wasn't enough - they actually see Simeon. Lying down and panting, with his face flushed and eyes struggling to stay open from the sheer bliss of it all.

His fingers were grasping at the sheets around you. "MC..." His needy voice slipped out.

Fuck. MC did that?

Suddenly everyone wants to be Simeon. They stare at the nails on your hands, your lips look even prettier with the smudged lipstick, your teeth peeking through your smirk - they want to feel it all.

Lucifer tries his best to remain calm but his eye twitches frantically as he calls out to Simeon to "have a quick word with him". And his face gets redder as he sees the marks you've made on Simeon up close, and glares at you. It should be him you should have been doing this with.

Mammon and Levi get into a tug of war, both trying to get you to their rooms. In the end, they both end up taking off their shirts and kneeling in front of you, silently begging you to bite them senseless like you did with Simeon. They promise they'll be good boys, way better than Simeon.

Satan's eyes dart everywhere in keen observation - as if trying to recreate in his mind whatever transpired between you and the angel. So he can imagine how it would feel if it was him. He imagines you on top of him, smirking the same way as you are now.

Asmo on the other hand shamelessly asks Simeon for details. How hard do you bite, how soft do your lips feel, how your tongue feel on his skin, what you do with your hands, what you say during - he gets aroused just listening to it.

Beel stands there stunned, cheeks flushed as he has a vague idea of what might have happened. Belphie full on hides his scarlet face in his pillow and groans. They're both about to have some very questionable dreams tonight.

And Simeon? Well he can't stop coming back for more. Even though you both almost got caught, he appears the next night, shirt almost off and his pants unbuttoned. You need to finish what you started.

You smile as he coaxes you back to your bed and on top of his lap. You tut at his impatience - "The door. We didn't lock it."

"Leave it be, please I need you now, MC." He breathes against your lips. You kiss him silly, hearing him whimper through it. You grab his shoulders much to his delight.

"They might see us in the act this time." You warn him. He pulls you closer, burying his head against your chest.

"Let them, I want you too much to care." He lets himself fall, at your whim and mercy. You oblige him and revel in his almost musical moans.

[seraphinitegames]

I'm in love with the immersion, world-building, and characters of your writing. I can't help but gush about how talented you are with your you are as it's obvious how much love you put in your work.

The routes that I've been going through with my mc and his love interest between Adam and Mason was intriguing, funny and sometimes left me flustered and secretly yearing for more as although the difference between the two is like night and day, there is also a sense of familiarity the two of them share as well such as when it comes to the people they cherish and how they can react when they're threatened especially when it comes to the mc when picked as a love interest.

My favourite moments in the series would be from your most recent book, book three. I was pensive and aching to reach out towards Adam, as I wanted him to realize that it's okay to feel vulnerable every now and then, and that it doesn't make him weak as I desperately tried to reach out to him, and how when I was about to confess that I had fallen for Mason until Felix came out of nowhere, cockblocking me, which led me to furiously mutter under my breath and mind "GOD F@#*ING DAMMIT, FELIX!!"

My heart also ached for how much Sin was in pain who didn't want to hurt anyone but felt like he had to, resigned and trapped with no way out. I didn't hesitate to find any way to help him in anyway I could to free him. That's why near the end of the book I let him leave to live his life the way he wanted to. I couldn't stop imaging about giving him something to not just remind him of our budding friendship, but to also remind him to stay true to himself, and remind him that although he did do some terrible things, they don't define who he is, and that he has the right to been and feel happy as well when the guilt of his actions starts to consume him, whilst I'll also run and shout towards him when he flies of and leaves as I wave with a smile, "Goodbye! Stay safe!" I wonder how he'll react towards the mc doing this.

I can't wait for book four, as this time the stakes are dire, and the mc can even fall for the villian! I can't wait!!

Sorry for my ramblings, but I truly love the series that you've created and I cannot wait for what you have in store for us all. I hope you have a wonderful day. 😊😊

Aah, what an incredible message! I honestly cannot even begin to tell you how much it means to me to read this! <3

It's interesting you saying about the similarities of A and M—It's kind of why it's always fun writing them when they end up paired off for a mission or something.

M is very honest with A (as can be seen with that rather cutting statement by a BFF M to a romanced A at the end of Book Three! But A kind of…gets M in some ways more than the others un Unit Bravo, and it's the same for M. They both know how in pain they are—emotionally or physically—and there's a very deep understanding and bond between them because of that.

I could go on about the unique bonds between each member of UB forever, so I'll stop not before it turns into an essay, hehe! :D

But yeah, I think Sin would love to hear that from the MC. No one has ever looked out for him or cared to before, so having someone they barely know do that for him would make a very big impact—and it does depending on your ending with him!

Thank you so so much for your wonderfully motivating message! <3

[pedge-page]

Plushies 4 - Teddy

Joel Miller x F!Reader - Yet ANOTHER plushie fic, follows Cluster

Plushies Series Masterlist

Can be read as standalone

Summary: Joel buys you two toys: a giant teddy bear from Costco. And a strap-on dildo.

Warnings: omg where to begin- stuffed animal masturbation, stuffed animal fucking, humping, 69-ing a stuffed bear, sucking dildo, dildo riding, anal play, anal sex, double penetration, pet names, daddy kink, slight cuck!Joel behavior, pussy slapping, finger fucking, vaginal fluids, language, Joel's plush obsession gone too far

18+ ONLY

- - - -

He's shopping in Costco when he sees the absolute behemoth of a Teddy Bear. Standing 7 feet tall, 75 pound of cotton belly, AND $100 off? Joel stares up at the thing and instantly knows he needs to get it for his girl. He doesn't care how ridiculous he looks lugging it into the shopping cart, women in the store eying him curiously as he checks out, and the jealous stares of children in the parking lot as hauls it in bed of the truck and speeds off home.

It just needs one more accessory and then it will be perfect.

-

Joel swipes his arm over the neatly made bed of squishmellows, not thinking twice as they clutter to the ground. He fetches big Teddy over his shoulder and slams its soft booty on the bed. The thing practically takes up the entire surface.

He hears you putting your purse and keys down on the counter in the kitchen. Quickly, he fashions his accessory to the bear before stepping away right as you open the door and are surprised to see him.

And a big fucking teddy bear on your bed.

"Joel! Oh my god!" You squeal giddily.

"You like it? This is Teddy's big brother. Like me"

"So the teddy you bought me for Valentine's day and I've buried in my pussy is...Tommy?"

Joel's hand twitches by his side as he stares at the bear. "Ok, This is Papi Teddy instead."

You kiss him on the cheek before jumping on the bed, legs spread like a starfish to latch yourself to the side. Joel laughs at how small you are compared to the monster. You wrap yourself around its side and smush your face into its dark soft curls, running your hands all over its body thinking about how Joel's hair is just as fluffy.

You go to sit in its lap to make Joel take a pic when you pause, noticing the hard thing between its chubby thighs.

"Joel. Why does this teddy have a strap on dildo?"

"Because he's a mature Teddy, baby."

Why can't I just have a normal fucking boyfriend who punches my stuffed animals' faces, you think to yourself.

"You spent $500 on a giant bear just so I could fuck it?"

"No. Of course not!" He exclaimed, hands on his hips. "It was on sale for $399."

"How much was the strap on?"

"... ok that was $79 with $20 shipping. Anyway, since you wanna fuck it so bad, go ahead. I didnt say shit. How did I end up with such a horny little girl?"

Sometimes you just wanted to slap him in his smug face.

-

Being such a hornly little girl (with your equally perverted boyfriend) is exactly how you found yourself in your current position, wearing cute lacy lingerie and bent over the enormous leg of the teddy bear, hand wrapped around it's silicon pink cock as you took it in and out of your mouth.

"Look so good swallowing Teddy's cock." Joel says. He sat in the chair opposite of the bed and watched you, leaning forward to get every detail of the way you slobbered all over it. "Like it when ya make a mess like that."

You hummed contently, bobbing your head to suck on the tip, giving Joel the show he wanted. It was like being front seat to his own private porno. He's been resisting touching himself, his bulge pressing painfully against the zipper of his jeans.

You pussy throbbs with need at the scene, the pink jeweled plug Joel had placed in your rear twitching each time you felt the tip of the cock gag your throat.

"Straddle his face baby. Let Teddy get a taste of that pussy." You do as he says, pulling your lips off of him to position yourself reverse cowgirl on the enormous plush. Your thigh swings over his massive head, pressing your hips down.

"Oooooohhhhhhh, fuck Joel," you moan when his giant snout makes contact with your clit, mounting it like a horse.

"Not me, princess. Tell 'im."

"Ahhhh, OH , oh God teddy. Love riding your f-face."

Joel humms in content, watching you arch your back with each grind against the plush. "Get back to swallowin that cock with those pretty lips. Show him what a real fuckin nasty girl you are."

You push your hair back with one hand and grab the base of dildo with the other, wrapping your lips around the tip before inching it deeper. Your hips continued to hump the bears face, his massive nose parting your thong, through your folds. A guilty wetness smears against the fluff, its curls darkening to Joel's likeness from your juices.

"Yeahhh, oh baby, you should see yourself right now. Gagging on a big fuckin bear cock. My slutty little whore. Takin it so deep—yeah thats it— all the way. Put 'im in your throat."

You gagg around the plastic, holding your head there as your eyes squeeze shut. You knew Joel loved the feeling, so letting him watch it from another perspective would drive him crazy. You pull away and sucked a breath of air before going to jerk the cock with the copious amounts of saliva you had coated on it. Drool hangs out of your mouth, dripping to your tits and onto the plush but you didn't care. Not when the satisfying grind against Teddy's face brought you closer and closer.

"Wanna cum on Teddy's face, Daddy," you moan, putting the tip back in your mouth and hollowing your cheeks as your hips moved faster.

"Bet Teddy would love it. Do it, rub your slutty cunt all over his face."

Your pace slows with a long whine, eyes closing as your moan around the cock while cumming.

"Fuck, that's so fucking hot, baby. You're a goddamn dream, ya know that?" He groans, leaning back and pressing his palm to his crotch to finally put some pressure on his tented dick.

Your orgasm had barely finished before you were picking up speed again, humping your Teddy's face with your fresh arousal. Your hole twitched against the anal plug. "Daddy, need you to take care of me."

"Ah uh. Teddy might not be able to cum in you like I can but his cock still needs some lovin' from that tight pussy of yours." Joel stands and walks close to the bed, no shame in rubbing his cock through his pants. You whine at the sight, rubbing your pussy faster.

"You makin' a mess over here yet?"

You proudly lay back from Teddy's face and spread your legs, showcasing the large wet area on the stuffed animals face and the equally dripping arousal between your legs, swirling your clit with your fingertip and moaning loudly.

Joel ran his thigh hands through the matted wet fur of the bears face. "Fuck yeah, good girl, good fucking girl." His other hand finds your puffy pussy, smacking your finger away as he drove two thick digits into your wet heat. He finger fucks you aggressively, marveling at your juices splashing against your thigh and down Teddy's forehead. "God damn, got me my own little pornstar."

You throw your head back, clawing to keep your own legs parted as he works your oversensitive spot over. He presses downward, feeling the bulge of the plug through your vaginal walls. Your juices leak down to the jewel, generously coating your puckered hole.

He quickly withdraws his finger, tugging at his button and zipper with a renewed sense of pace. "Get on that dildo and ride your new teddy bear."

Joel moves away to stand close to the bed as you flipp your leg around to straddle the plush's belly. You inch your hips lower, wiggling them slightly to entice Joel. He platfully slaps your ass, making you giggle. Your hand wrapping around the width of the cock to line up at your entrance.

A high pitched moan escapes your lips as you sunk down on the toy all the way to the base in one motion. Your lips find Teddy's nose as you adjust to the girth inside you, kissing it and tasting the remnets of your slick.

"Fuck me, princess," Joel coos, running his hand over the length of your back soothingly. You look stunning like this, the most gorgeous thing he'd ever seen. Is this what you always look like while riding his dick?

Gently yet sternly, you feel the pressure of his palm against your back, gliding along each ridge of your spin, urging you to move up and down on the dildo. You set off a slow pace, hands fisting the fluffy chest of your new Teddy friend, slick walls clamping down on both toys buried deep inside you. The plug in your ass occasionally nudged the tip of the dildo, making you whine. You felt very full, but not entirely too much. It was just perfect.

"How's Teddy's cock feel in your tight little snatch?" Joel guides your movements into a faster pace, now bouncing on the cock, tits jiggling with each thrust.

"Fuck, Teddy, feels so good inside me, fills me up so full." You glance at Joel who's licking his lips down at you. "Not as full as my Daddy's cock makes me feel," you add, smiling and biting your lip.

His lips clash against yours at the confession. Suddenly you feel your bralette being ripped off your chest. "Joel—" Your protest muffled by his incessant mouth, biting at your lips and sucking your tongue. You couldn't help but grind faster on the bear while Joel's fingers tweak your bare nipples and cup your swaying tits.

His other hand trails down your spine, swatting your ass. He tugs the thin fabric of the thong over your crack, pressing the anal plug further imside you. You keen into his mouth, tongue swiping his. His fingers honing on your hole, tapping it to remind you of its presence. He slinks further down to where you and Teddy's cock are joined together, your slick pouring down and staining the fluff below.

He feels your wetness at where your folds part to accommodate the pink length inside you. Hand now slick with your arousal, he inches back up to the plug, pressing it further inside you.

You gasp, breaking your heated kiss. "D-daddy, oh fuck... please," you cried, leaning forward, desperate to escape his pressure.

"You want me here?"

You nod, drunk on the need to cum again.

"Cum on Teddy's dick first."

You nod hazily again, arms propping you further up to recapture Joel's lips as he used the plug, tugging and pushing it inside your ass. Your hips move faster, now bouncing on your knees to get the tip of the cock to tap your g-spot inside. Joel loves how good you are at riding, always seeking your pleasure, knowing the exact angles to get yourself to cum.

Joel's fingers wrap around the exterior of the plug and pulls the base expanding around your hole and pulling it out. You cried out in ecstacy. "TEDDY oh—fu-fuuuccckk, s'good oh shit! M'cummin'—cumming on Teddy's cock! Yesyesyes, ughhh—teddyteddyteddyteddy—" you chant, cumming hard on the dildo, arms giving way as you crashed down on Teddy's chest, pussy grinding down against the plush surroundings as you floated in your orgasm.

Joel wastes no time, mounting you from behind, one knee pressing into the mattress with his foot planted directly next to the plush bear foot. You yelp as Joel pushes your body fully flush against the bear, the dildo sinking deeper into your cunt. "Hold on to Teddy, baby."

Your arms wrap around Teddy's middle. You felt a gob of slimy liquid fall directly on your puckered hole, gaping as it swallowes down Joel's spit. His hand spread your ass to watch it twitch, rubbing the tip of his cock to smear it all over, dipping inside ever so slightly before retreating, prepping you.

"Obedient little bitch in heat, just begging to get stuffed full of cock tonight. Gonna take both our dicks at the same time?"

You whine in the bears fluffy chest, wiggling your hips in the air to entice Joel's movements into action.

He lines the tip of his cock against your pulsing little hole before pushing in just the tip, your muffled moans being swallowed by the plush below you.

"So fuckin' tight, babygirl. Holy shit. Never gonna get used to this perfect little ass," He groans, eyes fluttering at the squeeze of your walls struggling to accommodate his length. While the dildo buries in your pussy was generously sized, it was nothing compared to Joel's girth and length, practically splitting you in half.

Teeth clenching into the fluff fabric, you swallow down a cry as Joel's hips inched further, invading your guts.

Joel let out a pained breath as he bottoms out inside your ass. "Fuck, princess. How you feelin'?"

"S-so-so f-mm-fuullll."

He leaned over your body, pressing his cock further into you, his belly slotting perfectly along your arched back. He brushes your hair away from your face to kiss your cheek.

God, you loved this man so fucking much.

He sits back up, aggressive hands seaking your waist as set a brutal pace, hips rutting into the fat of your cheeks.

Nevermind, fuckJoelfuckJoelfuckJoelfuckJoel—

You were trapped between the giant head of the bear and Joel's incessant pounding. Each drive of his hips push you down further into Teddy's softness, the dildo inside you plunging deeper, rubbing against the inside of your belly. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, tongue out panting like a dog, arms wrapped so tightly around the plush as you held on for dear life.

"So fuckin' good, oh my Fuck, you're an angel. Just a doll, takin' my cock like this. Getting fucked by your Daddy and your Teddy too—FUCK—sweetest little cunt and ass, my perfect little cock slut, so amazing, 'm so lucky, love ruinin' this ass—holy s-shit!"

The combined fullness of the dildo and Joel's cock inside you rubbed all the deepest, desperate parts inside you, filling you to the brim over and over again. Both cocks rubbing against your walls, their tips nudging, lengths pressing against each other through the membrane. You could feel a drop of Joel's sweat trickle down your back, his harsh almost pained breaths filling the room along side the obscene slapping of his hips against yours.

"You like this? Like getting pounded like the little whore you are?"

"Yes,yesyes holy fuck Daddy yes! Love getting railed by your big cock in my ass, Teddy deep in my pussy—oh fuck Joel 'm cumming!"

You clenched around both Joel's and Teddy's length as you came, screaming into air, uncontrollable shaking as you hump and grind your clit into the soft plush under you, tits pressing against its fullness.

Joel's fingernails dig painfully into the sides of your hips, stuttering his pace as the feeling of you clamping down on him. Brows furrowed, he let out a pained and long growl as he stills completely, cock pulsing, dumping a massive load of his seed deep inside you.

He slips his softening cock out of you carefully before collapsing on top of your sweaty back, sandwiching you between him and the bear.

"I love you," he whispers right into your ear, only for you.

-

Afterwards, Joel cleaned you up with a warm towel, leaving you sprawled arms and legs draped over the bear in the same position he fucked you in, exhaustion preventing you from doing anything other than wince when Joel slipped the silicon cock out of you. He showered you in praise and sweet kisses all over your body, cradling you to lie on your back as he removed the soaked Teddy bear from the bed. He climbed into the sheet with you, after having tossed a few more plushies around your body to surround you in extra softness.

You slept for a few hours. When you awoke, your eyes adjusted the blurriness to see Joel luing next to you on his back, a squishy sitting on his chest as he playfully tilted it to brush again his nose, staring at it with a straight face.

"That one's cute. You wanna take him home?" You asked curiously.

"Well, I mean Kitty is there all by herself on my big bed, could use a friend..." he mumbled, not totally aware that you were watching him eye your stuffed animals on the bed. "Or that's the shit you'd say, right?" He added quickly.

You playfully pout with him, trying to hold a giggle. "He does need a friend..." You said, hoping to encourage this newfound softness of the man you love.

Joel nodded briefly before pausing his fiddling. "Kitty's a he?"

- -

Extended scene:

"Nah uh, I read all cats are girlies on the little machine at The Olive Garden."

"The what?"

"The little tablet thing at Chili's? Says all cats are ladies."

"You mean the true or false quiz that says: Calico cats are almost all female?"

"Yeah 'ats that one."

"That's ONE breed of Kitty Joel."

"I'd like to breed your kitty."

"I can't take you anywhere."

- - - -

Next: Piggy

Or more Teddy special

[zvdvdlvr]

being on team 141 and being one of the youngest people in the team HCs [p.02]

𝐧𝐚𝐯𝐢. ✦ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞!!

𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺: 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒃𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒋𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒔, 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒆 141, 𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒐𝒇 𝒔𝒎𝒐𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈,

𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑬𝑹'𝑺 𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑵𝑶𝑼𝑵𝑺: 𝒖𝒏𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒅

𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑬𝑹'𝑺 𝑪𝑨𝑳𝑳𝑺𝑰𝑮𝑵: 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒑𝒆𝒓

back at it again, its another fatherless rapscallion😭

100% believe you and soap call people bestie if you dont like them

ex: "soap come hither, i have tea on bestie chloe" and he comes barreling down the hall to hear the tea

lmfao speaking of soap

SOAP=WHINY MAN BABY

this man whines when you give him the silent treatment fo sheezy 💯

ghost thinks its really funny when soap watches you with a '☹' face evrry time you ignore him

gaz always knows everything because you know everything so you tell him its hilarious asf

anyways

you and gaz always be talkin about topher fr

(i dont have the of so an edit will do:)

HELLA INSIDE JOKES

price is highkey tired of your humor

"is there anything you need?" price "other than a father/mother? nope. thanks, tho" you *insert gaz laughing from the other room*, distressed price leaved the room, clutching at his sussy goofy wacky little hat

if you are fluent in spanish i strongly believe ghost will be scared of you

as i have been trading my spanish for german, i wont put anything else involving spanish, thanks 😍🙏

screaming judas in tge shower

ghost yelling at you to shut up

soap joining to annoy his babygorl

gaz humming along because lady gaga is goddess

price needing to leave the room

l m f a o

ok so like what if you're really good at card games, savvy?

you and 141 are laying low in a safehouse somewhere

soap finds a deck of cards, and everyone plays and/or watches

anyway you suggest playing manipulation

price immediately agrees, he hasnt played in a while but still thinks he could beat everyonr

ghost joins in, but gaz watches

what if you sat in his lap

no sorry my bad im in love

anyway

the first, like, three rounds everyones drawing like five cards

and price somehow ends up with two cards while everyones drawing cards

hes getting cocky, thinking that he'll go out first because of his amount of cards

HOWEVER

he had an ace

so that was virtually impossible to get rid of lmfao

anyhow,

price had on his poker face, and surprisingly, so did you

no one could tell you were able to get rid of the five cards in your hand only in the eighth round

bada bing bada boom you served the team their ass when you quickly arranged your cards into their appropriate piles

and then you look at everyone's flabberghasted expression

price is 😯🙁ing so hard

not only did price lose, he lost to one of the youngest people on the team

ghost is a sore loser tbh

"fuckin' hell, reaper. the hell you learn to play like that?" ghost "around" you shrug

price thinks about that all the time tbh

LETS TALK ABOUT THE TIME 141 FIRST SAW YOU SMOKING

after a somewhat rough mission, you go MIA

everyones worried; you generally let someone know whenever you go somewhere

but its hour 4 of you being gone and price is worried

you did this when the whole situation with alex went down, so price has limited experience with your MIA bouts

highkey feels bad he can't protect you emotionally :(

it was well below sun down when price found you

poor captain almost had a stroke when you saw you

you were outside sitting cross legged facing the direction which the sun had set, indicating you'd been there for a while

you had a lighter in your hand, lighting up cigarette number unknown

"what are you doing, kid?"

you had heard him coming so you didnt jump or anything you just shrugged

"do you want to talk about it?"

a mocking laugh fell from your lips, spewing out with smoke "nah."

price was at a loss. you had never acted like this before- cold and sharp

he moved to sit by you though </3

soon ghost trailed out, wondering where price was

an inky black mass caught his eye

but as he was making his way over, he saw a cigarette get smushed into the ground and a knew one being pulled from a pack

price didn't smoke cigarettes, he smoked cigars, so who would that be?

but then ghost heard your voice and an exhale and you had the cigarette

ghost: 😯

"hell's goin' on out here?" ghost grumbled, sitting on the other side of u, eyes widening at the amount of boxes at ur side

price answered when you didnt "getting some air"

ghost blinked at the cigarette hanging from your lips. okay

the guys tried to get you to talk but couldn't get anything out of you but a scoff or two

even when ghost offered to let you sleep in his room you said no :(((

after that you gathered your shit and left for the base leaving ghost and price concerned </3

whoa who broke my heart i sure am angsty today 😟💯

you didnt get any sleep that night btw

on another note

MOVIE NIGHTS WITH THE GUYS BUT GAZ INSISTS INSTEAD OF YOU

obviously he goes to you first

"hey y/n" :))) "do you wanna" :)))))) "watch a movie" :))))))))) "with us?" :))))))))))))

i'll be damned if you say no. 😐🔪

so you said yes 😍❤

he smiled so big </33

went to soap next

then pulled up the movie

with everyone ( minus ghost ), price couldn't say no 🙃

ghost pulled up, ffs 🤯

gaz chose either a horror movie or a horror movie

so you watched a horror movie 😁

gaz was probably clinging to you the whole time

so was soap probably

ghost was somewhat interested, but price fell asleep

his goofy snore is so loud bro im not even playing 🤧😭😭

if you have migraines you best believe everyone has midol/typenol for you

never ibuprofen tho bc after a mission if you had a headache, 141 might think you possibly had/have a brain bleed and wouldn't give you ibuprofen bc thats a blood thinner and could start another bleed

you and gaz have playlists for everyone

you both follow each other on EVERYTHING

if you were too poor (like me HDJSNEHDJEUZ) gaz would let you and only you on his netflix acc ❤

im sorry im a gazlvr

will probably edit later tbh

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞!!

@shadylilac

🤍

[hbmmaster]

one interesting quirk of english spelling in braille is the use of the letter [⠬] (ing). according to the standard rules of Unified English Braille, [⠬] is equivalent to the latin letter sequence ING, regardless of pronunciation, for example in "ginger" [⠛⠬⠻] (G-ING-ER) and "stinging" [⠌⠬⠬] (ST-ING-ING).

however, for unclear reasons, the letter is not used word initially? so like it's not used in "ingot" [⠔⠛⠕⠞] (IN-G-O-T). this is weird because there are other characters corresponding to sequences of multiple latin letters that are restricted to certain contexts in english braille, but all the other ones like. mean something different, in the context you're not supposed to use them as a letter. like, you can't use [⠖] for FF at the end of a word, because it's also used for an exclamation point so using it as a letter at the end of a word would be ambiguous. but as far as I can tell there isn't a different meaning that [⠬] has word initially in english braille, it just isn't allowed to be used there.

then what's really bizarre is that there's a bunch of common words that are respelled to be abbreviated, and even though these abbreviated respellings make use of multi-latin-letter characters sometimes, as in "herself" [⠓⠻⠋] (H-ER-F), they don't use [⠬]? like there's "perceive" [⠏⠻⠉⠧] (P-ER-C-V) and "perceiving" [⠏⠻⠉⠧⠛] (P-ER-C-V-G), spelled with a [⠛] (g) instead of with an [⠬], even though it doesn't make the abbreviation any shorter. weird, huh?

[milla-frenchy]

Blackmail

4k5 | Javier Peña x fem reader x Joel Miller Summary: in exchange for his help to let Joel and you out of the QZ, a new soldier, Javier, asks him for something more than just ration cards Warnings: 18+ mdni. Dubcon. Cucking chair, praise kink, oral (f/m receiving), unprotected piv, rimming, anal, threesome, double penetration, creampie a/n: @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog Kate, I can't thank you enough for helping me and beta-ing me. Thank you SO MUCH ILY 🫶🫶🫶❤️❤️❤️

Playlist | ao3 | series masterlist

Masterlist

Joel had to go pick up supplies from Bill and Frank. He had started to prepare his equipment for the next evening, and was waiting for the usual guard to give him the agreed Oxy pills. But another guard showed up at the appointment. A new one, arrived in the QZ a few weeks ago. Joel had seen him some times since then, and he didn't like his smugness.

“John was assigned to another position. He told me about you. You’re gonna do business with me, Miller, if you want to get out of the QZ tomorrow.”

Joel frowned. Annoyed by this unexpected situation, and having to deal with a soldier he didn't know, and whose smirk he just wanted to wipe off his face.

“And John thought I would trust a guy who just got here?”

“John and I were together in Kansas City, before he came to Boston. The KC QZ is down now, and I joined him here so that we work as a team like we did there. There are guys like you in every QZ Miller, don’t think you’re the boss.”

Joel smiled and said “you have a big mouth for a new guy. I'll check if John can vouch for you, and we'll do business if everything’s ok. Your name?"

“Javier Peña. Peña, to you” he said with a smirk. Joel thought Peña was an asshole and the worst part was he totally owned it.

Joel handed the usual ration cards to Peña, who laughed at him.

"Oh no. I'm not a softy like John. You’re gonna have to give me more than that if you want to get out.”

Joel’s nostrils wrinkled at this guy’s insolence.

“Your price?”

“Oh, no worries, it will cost you a lot less in resources.”

“Spit it out.”

"Your girlfriend. Tonight," Peña smirked.

Joel grabbed Peña by the throat and pushed him against the wall, but the man pushed him back.

“I saw you walking around with her in the area. You must be proud to walk around with a woman like that. You see I'm nice, it won't cost you anything in ration cards."

Joel smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.

“You know Miller, I know enough about you to ruin your life here. Your small domination of the contraband market, if you don't want it to end, you'll have to review your priorities. And your possessions. It's up to you how much you need to get outta the QZ tomorrow night"

Joel was thinking fast. His desire to beat Peña’s face quickly gave way to his concern about rationing. Survival was complicated in the QZ, with Fireflies' bombardments creating a shortage of supplies. He looked Peña in the eye and said, “see you here in 2 hours”

“Sure, Miller,” the man replied with a smirk.

Joel came back to the apartment, you were packing your backpack getting ready to leave for Bill and Frank’s. As soon as he entered, you saw that something was wrong.

“What’s going on?”

“John has been reassigned. A new guard took over. I stopped by at John’s before coming home, the guy is sure”

“Okay, what’s the problem then?”

"His price."

“Damn Joel, we’re almost out of ration cards. How much does he want?”

“He doesn't want cards. He wants… fuck… He wants you. Tonight”

You leaned back in your chair when you heard his words “son of a bitch…”

“We’ll think of something. We'll try to exit through another passage,” Joel said.

"You know we can’t, we already tried. Damn that motherfucker… what did you tell him?”

“That I'll meet him… in an hour now, at the usual rdv point.”

"OK. We’ll go meet him then.” You saw Joel’s look, and you explained to him: “we’ll try to find something else to offer him”

You looked at each other, gloomily. One motherfucker was screwing up your business, asking you the worst possible thing.

When you arrived, Peña wasn't there. Just as you were about to leave, he showed up.

“You make us wonder if you’re serious, Peña. Will you be that punctual when you have to take us out?”

“When I take you out, we’ll be doing business. Here, we lay the foundations, right?”

He turned to you, and looked at you from head to toe.

“You’re pretty, Hermosa. Ready to do business with me?”

“We can offer you pills. Meds. What do you want instead of ration cards?”

“The problem, Hermosa, is that I don’t need any pills or meds. I'm not some junkie guard you can pressure in exchange for his fix. My offer is non-negotiable. Either we agree right now, or you take another path.”

He looked at you, then at Joel, smiled and said “Oh right… there ain't any other paths”

You looked at Joel who was clenching his fists, furious. And you said, “Okay. My terms.”

“Let’s see if you can be reasonable”, Peña replied, smiling

“Our apartment. Joel will be there the whole time. And it will only happen once.”

“Mmmm… I don’t mind the idea of ​​having an audience. But it will be in my apartment, no way I’m going to yours, what if it’s a trap. And it will happen once, okay. Once per exit. If you need to leave the QZ again, the conditions will be the same”

Peña looked at you, then at Joel. “Deal?”

You answered “deal”, with a crestfallen face. Joel nodded, his lips pursed.

"Perfect! Pleasure making business with you!” The soldier was smiling again. 

As you were leaving, you heard him say “Don’t fuck with me Miller”

Neither of you turned around.

You walked home in silence. Once home, Joel let his anger out “No way. No way we’re letting him win this… that… That’s insane. As if you are a fucking commodity”

“Enough Joel”

“Enough? How can you be so calm?”

"We have no choice. Many women go through… this to get resources. I had to do it in the past.”

Your gaze softened when you saw Joel’s expression.

“I’m supposed to prevent this from happening, sweetheart”

“We have no choice, Joel. This bastard got us. But we’ll get out of this. And we’re gonna grab everything we need so we won’t have to go out before this asshole gets assigned somewhere else.”

You arrived at Peña's apartment at the agreed time.

He opened the door, a cigarette in his mouth and a smile on his lips, and you saw him for the first time without his uniform and helmet.

Brown mustache, broad shoulders. Tight black shirt that showed off his biceps. Tight black jeans. Quite a handsome man, you thought. Telling yourself that it would possibly be more pleasant that way, before feeling guilty. 

Joel’s presence made you hope that he wouldn’t behave like a total psycho.

He let you in, and gave Joel a nod, to which he didn’t respond.

A bottle of whiskey and 3 glasses were placed on the coffee table in his living room. His apartment was clean and smelled good. Turning your head to the right, you saw part of his bedroom. His bed with white sheets. Looking good.

You swallowed your saliva, and said “let’s get it over with, Peña”

He smiled at you, and said “Javier for you. Javi even, if we get along”

You rolled your eyes and placed your hand on Joel’s arm, ready to explode.

Javier filled the three glasses and said "let's have a drink, we're not savages."

Javier was enjoying his drink looking at you, smiling.

Joel finished his quickly, tapping the glass against the table to set it down.

You drank yours in one go, in need of liquid courage.

Without taking his eyes off you, Javier told Joel to go and sit in the armchair in his bedroom, near the bed. Joel looked at you then walked towards Javier pointing his finger at him “nothing twisted. You hurt her I’ll tear you apart”

“Relax man. I'm here for her pleasure and mine. I never hurt ladies. Quite the opposite in fact.”

Joel looked at you again and went to sit in the assigned place.

Javier extended his arm in the same direction, smiling at you - without his usual smirk - to invite you to go to the bedroom.

Near the bed, you turned towards him and began to undress.

“Wow wow Hermosa. No rush.”

You stopped your movements and lowered your arms alongside your body, while Javi moved closer to you.

To your astonishment, he caressed your cheek with his hand, and kissed your other cheek delicately. His mustache brushed against your skin, it was silky and didn't sting. He smelled good. 

“You’re beautiful, baby”

You were confused.

“Listen, Hermosa. I’m not a freak. I won’t hurt you. I just want us to have a good time. Not just me, but you too. If you let me take care of you, maybe it will be more pleasant for you, and for me too. And your boyfriend sitting next to you might be able to relax too.”

Your gaze shifted from Javier’s eyes to Joel’s, who nodded. He also thought that it would be more pleasant for you if you could relax.

You thought about the times you had to have sex with men in exchange for equipment, ammo, meds. When you had to look at the ceiling waiting for them to finish, with the urge to vomit at hearing their grunts. And when, disgusted, you did your best to make them cum in your mouth as quickly as possible.

Ok…why not try something else and let him do as he said?

“Can I have another glass of whiskey?” you asked. 

“Of course, Hermosa”. He went to get the bottle and the three glasses, which he filled. You bottomed yours in one go, and said “Ok, Javier” using his first name to try to keep him in this rather… pleasant state of mind.

Joel had his 2nd drink.

Javier didn't.

Javier moved closer to you, unbuttoning your blouse, and brushing his hands over your breasts, going down to each button. You couldn’t help but shiver when you felt his touch, which made him smile.

He pushed aside the tails of your blouse and revealed your breasts in a bra. Their soft plus, spilling out.

“your breasts are beautiful Hermosa”

He took them in his hands gently, stroking their roundness, then slipped his hands behind your back to unhook your bra. He took it off and dropped it to the floor, before taking one nipple in his mouth and sucking it gently, your other breast covered by his warm hand. You moaned and closed your eyes under the effect of his mouth and his tongue. He was good at it. You opened your eyes, looking at Joel, who nodded again, and saw him readjusting in his jeans.

Your attention shifted back to Javier, who was unbuttoning your pants and then tugged them down to the top of your thighs. He slid his hand against your crotch and felt your wetness in your panties. He smiled.

He kissed you, first placing his lips on yours, and pressing your body against his. You felt the bulge of his crotch as he slipped his tongue into your mouth, mingling it with yours. You welcomed him with desire, his actions and words made you forget why you were in this soldier's bedroom, with your partner watching you, sitting in an armchair near the bed.

Javier grabbed the hem of your panties and pulled them down, getting on his knees as he grabbed your pants as well, before removing the entire thing from your ankles.

He looked at you and just when you thought he was going to get up, he ran his tongue over your pussy. You tensed and looked at Joel who had grabbed the arms of the chair. You shook your head “no”, telling him to stay seated.

No man you had to fuck for resources had ever eaten you out. They were there to fuck, and didn't care about your pleasure. This was… new. And even if the intimacy made you uncomfortable, the contact of his tongue was already having its effects.

"You're wet, Hermosa. Good"

And you couldn't help biting your lip and closing your eyes, as he continued to lick you gently, parting your pussy with his fingers so he could push his tongue deeper between your folds.

You put your hand over your mouth, holding back a moan. No one else had made you cum, besides Joel, in years. And you were now standing in front of a man who had blackmailed you, and whom you had met a few hours before.

Javier got up, and asked you in a soft voice to go sit on the bed. Then he took off his shirt, revealing his broad, hairless torso. He was handsome, muscular, but not too much. His broad shoulders made you want to curl up on them like a cat. 

Then he unzipped his jeans.

He approached you and you looked at Joel, who had a less… furious look than you thought. You looked at Javi’s crotch, he was hard. Before you could think about it further, Javi was in front of you.

“I won’t force you to suck my dick. But I really wish you would, when I see those pretty lips. Would you like to pull down my jeans and see if you like my cock enough to?”

Shit… you definitely didn’t expect the evening to go like that.

You placed your hands on his hips, and looked at the bulge that the jeans couldn't hide. He had a big cock. You started to pull down his jeans. He had no underwear. His cock sprang out, pointing up at the ceiling.

“Fuck…”

He smiled and said “come on baby, don’t tell me that this big guy doesn’t have a big cock too. Everything about him exudes cock domination. The big, strong, man everyone is afraid of”. But apparently not Javi.

You looked up at Javier then rolled your eyes.

You looked down at his cock again. Pink. A few veins, including a major one on the side. He was well groomed, his balls firm and… tempting.

The  thickness and length was equivalent to Joel's cock.

You hesitated for one last second then spat into your hand, before grabbing his cock and starting to jerk him off.

Joel in the armchair, was watching you from the side, then his eyes raised towards Javier who was caressing your cheek. His blood, which was boiling with anger, gradually gave way to the excitement. He never thought that would be the case, but seeing you seduced by another man, wanting another man, excited him. He felt more and more cramped in his jeans.

You grabbed Javier by the hips and pulled him closer to you, before running your saliva onto the tip of his cock. You placed your thumb and swirled it gently before starting to jerk him again. Then you brought your tongue closer, and licked his slit, tasting his precum, slightly salty. You moaned and took him into your mouth, gently sucking and licking his tip. His cock felt…good. The more you had his cock in your mouth, the more you salivated. You lowered your mouth to the edges of his tip, licking them with the tip of your tongue, before taking him entirely back into your mouth, this time encircling him with your lips, and starting a back and forth movement where you took him more and more into your mouth.

“Fuck Hermosa you… that’s so good”  Javier hadn't said a word for several minutes, your effect on him was that big.

Your hand that was placed on his hip came down to cup his balls. 

“Damn… you’re gonna kill me”

You were sucking his full length, your nose burying in his pubic hairs. You moaned, having forgotten the situation completely. You moved your mouth up from the base of his shaft to the tip, wrapping your lips around it, then you pulled him out of your mouth.

You couldn't resist tasting his balls. You looked up at him, the tip of your tongue level with the tip of his cock, and gently lowered it down to his balls.

“Mierda…”

You started to jerk him off again, and you licked his ball. Hairless. You felt it rolling under your tongue, before moving on to the second one. You licked them for a long time, moving from one to the other, before taking his cock back into your mouth and sucking his entire length.

Javier’s hands, previously resting on your head without applying pressure, began to press against your temples. He accompanied your movement, moaning, until he said “ok pretty girl, come lie down otherwise I’m gonna cum in your mouth”

You released him, licking his tip one last time, and lay down, looking at Joel. He had unzipped his jeans and pulled out his cock. Hands resting on the arms of the chair.

Javi removed his jeans and came to lie down, his head between your legs. “I can’t wait to have my mouth on you, the taste was delicious”

He parted your folds with his fingers, and without taking his eyes off you he ran his tongue over your wet pussy, from your hole to the clit. You moaned and said “oh god…Javi”, cupping your breasts in your hands. You spread your thighs to give him more access and you heard him say "mmm...you taste so good Hermosa...you're so wet"

You looked at Joel again. He held his cock in his hand and was jerking himself gently. He looked wrecked. He saw your gaze blurring with pleasure, and he gripped his cock tighter, continuing to jerk off.

Javi was still eating you out, running his tongue through your folds, then lingering on your clit. He gently rubbed against the mattress and you heard him moan. You felt his fingers caress your pussy, mingling with his tongue. Then he inserted two fingers into your soaking pussy, focusing on your clit with his tongue.

“I want you to cum on my tongue and on my fingers hermosa. Cum for me, I wanna hear you”

He turned his fingers to find your sensitive spot, you felt an incredible heat and pleasure rising from deep within your insides. He came to place a hand on yours, which was caressing your breasts, continuing to finger fuck you with the other, and to suck your clit with his tongue.

‘Oh Javi… Javi… I’m gonna come. Please continue. Oh my god.. Oh… Javi!!!”

You exploded in pleasure, your stomach tightening in spasms. He continued to suck on your clit gently, then when your twitching subsided, his tongue joined his fingers inside your pussy. He groaned as he licked all your juices.

He then moved away from your crotch, his mouth and chin glistening. He wiped them with the back of his hand, smiling.

"It doesn't surprise me that you want to keep her so much" he told Joel, but without insolence this time.

“I’m gonna fuck you now baby”

He lay down between your legs and took his cock in his hand, before inserting the tip into your pussy. He stopped at the entrance and kissed you languidly, his tongue searching for yours, then sucking it from his lips. While the two of you were still kissing, he slowly pushed in half of his cock, before pulling back and then pushing in again, this time bottoming out.

He groaned and started to fuck you. Slowly and deeply. You felt every nerve rubbing inside you. His rhythm was soft and sensual. He kissed your cheek, and watched you before kissing you again, softly.

Then he said, still looking at you “wanna join us Miller?”

You widened your eyes, before turning your surprised gaze to Joel.

“I can share. I'm sure the two of us would do you even more good. So?" he asked looking at Joel who was looking at you. You swallowed, and nodded at him. Joel waited a few seconds, stunned by the situation. Then he got up and took off his clothes, before moving closer to the bed. Javi pulled out of you, and said “take my place”. You looked at them and felt yourself getting even wetter.

Joel moved between your legs, stroked your hair with one hand, and entered you gently.

“Oh fuck… Joel…”

Joel closed his eyes from the pleasure he felt. Fucking you after Javier woke something animalistic in him. Feline.

His hips thrusts were almost as gentle as those of Javier, who had settled into the chair that Joel had occupied a few minutes before, jerking off.

“Do you like being shared like that hermosa?”

Your eyes locked with Joel's, you nodded “yeah… yeah I love that”

After a few minutes, Javi stood up and said, "on all fours, pretty girl"

Joel got up, and you settled on your hands and knees. Javi came to sit against the headboard in front of you, his cock clutched in his hand.

Joel put his hands on your hips, and thrust into you, picking up a faster pace this time.

You took Javi’s cock in ​​your hand, and began to suck him, to the rhythm of Joel's cock strokes.

“That’s good hermosa… you’re doing so well. Do you like that, having both of our cocks in you?”

You nodded, your mouth full of his cock. You worked hard to suck him deeper and deeper.

Joel groaned as he watched you suck Javi, and he started to fuck you harder. The pace kept you from taking as much of Javi into your mouth as you wanted, causing you to groan at the loss, and you focused on his tip with your tongue.

Joel slowed down and said "you wanna suck him sweetheart? All of him? Go ahead, suck him”

"Come on Hermosa, listen to your man. He wants you to feel good"

You grabbed the base of his cock, and took him back into your mouth, sucking up and down, deeper and deeper each time. Until he held your head with his hand, and told you "keep me warm princess"

Joel stopped and frowned, waiting for your reaction, to see if you wanted to back off or not. You didn't move, and kept Javi's cock deep in your throat until he released you.

“Good girl”, he said. 

You resumed your movement, and that time Joel grabbed your neck, holding you down on Javi's cock back down your throat, which made him smile.

Joel released his grip, but kept his hand on your neck, accompanying your movements.

Joel picked up the pace slightly again, making you moan under his thrusts. He slid his hand up to your clit, and brushed it gently, before rolling it under his finger. You moaned, Javi’s cock deep in your throat for the 3rd time.

“Come on, cum for both of us this time hermosa. Cum with his cock deep in your pussy and my cock in your throat”

Javi's words turned you on to the max, Joel stroked you just right to make you cum, and you moaned during the climax of your pleasure, your nose in Javi's public hair again.

Joel slipped out off you and said "fuck him now sweetheart". Javi slid underneath you to lay down, you took his cock in your hand and pushed him inside you. Both of you moaned.

Joel sat on his knees, staying behind you, and he spread your ass cheeks with his hands to watch Javi’s cock sink into your pussy.

“Fuck baby… I never thought it would turn me on so much to see you take a cock other than mine”

“Yeah baby? You like that?”

“Mmm mmm”

Joel leaned over your ass, and dropped his saliva on it. He placed his thumb on the ring, and began to caress you.

He told you “wanna try more baby”?

You turned to look at him, and said “Yes Joel…. Yeah” You looked at Javi, who said “fuck me…” with a surprised but delighted look.

Joel spread your cheeks, and licked your ass. Dripped saliva on it. Touched it with his thumb. Then he focused his tongue on it, working to roll it against your ring to relax it.

“Do you like it Hermosa? Do you like getting your ass licked?”

“Yeah… fuck… yeah i love that”

Regularly, Joel would pass your thumb over your ass, bringing it in gradually, spreading your buttocks as far as possible. The indecent position excited you immensely, coupled with Javi's cock ravaging your pussy.

“You have lube Peña?”

“Yeah 1st dresser drawer”. Joel went to retrieve it, opened the bottle and took a dab on his fingers, coming to apply it on your ass. His thumb went in easily now.

Javi gave you a boost for a few minutes, before slowing down to let Joel settle in.

“You’re naughty, baby… you know that?”

You licked his lips before biting them gently.

Joel opened the bottle again and applied lube to his cock, then he settled between your legs.

“Ready baby?”

“Yeah… go ahead Joel, fuck me”

"You often take it in the ass?" Javi asked. 

“Yes… but the double, it will be the first time”

“Ok hermosa, you’re in good hands”

Javi stopped, his cock buried in your pussy, letting Joel manage the pace. Joel pressed his cock against your ass, and began to thrust, your ring gently spreading as he went in. 

You felt every inch of your body acclimating to his shaft.

He pushed in slowly, grunting. Before pulling back, and pushing again. He started to move back and forth, until his balls hit against your pussy occupied by Javi's cock.

“Fuck baby… didn’t know you were such a slut.”

Each of them felt the other's cock through the thin wall of flesh.

Your clit rubbed against Javi, you felt your pleasure rising. Joel’s hands were fixed on your waist, Javi’s on your hips. You weren’t moving, letting your body sway according to their movements.

Looking up, you saw that Javi’s gaze was on Joel, watching him with a satisfied smile.

Javi looked down at your jiggling breasts and said, “Cum hermosa. One last time. Squeeze our cocks, make us cum in both your holes”

You kissed him, in a messy way, until your orgasm made you capsize. They gave you time to come back to yourself, then gradually increased the pace, until they were fucking you hard.

Javi said “I’m gonna cum…I’m gonna fill your pussy. You have an after pill, Miller?”

“Yeah go ahead. Fill her up”

Javi kissed you passionately until his moans became grunts, and you felt him shoot the jets of cum deep into your pussy. He pulled out, and you heard Joel's panting speed up.

Joel's hands tightened on your hips, and he froze deep in your ass, sending his hot cum deep into your insides.

He collapsed on your back, while you were lying on top of Javi.

Your breathing struggled to calm down.

Then Joel got up, and Javi followed him. 

You laid down on your stomach, and felt their cum dripping from both of your sore and swollen holes.

“Well… you deserve to go out of the QZ tomorrow,” Javi said, smiling.

Part 2

**********************

Thank you for reading 🙏

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️

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[positivexcellence]

The Boys boss knows a Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki reunion would 'break the internet': 'It's occurred to me'

In a new interview with Entertainment Weekly, Kripke confirms that, "yeah, it's fair" to say the plan is for the actor to join up on The Boys next season. He also coyly teased that he's thought about a reunion between Padalecki and Ackles

"The value of that is to break the internet. So we'll see whether it's right for the story," Kripke says. "But yes, it's occurred to me that putting those two in a scene together would destroy much of the world, and that's appealing."

Padalecki told Deadline that he spoke with Kripke about a role last week, saying, "I think at this point in my acting life, I only want to work on projects that I really care about or with people that I really care about, and obviously Eric and I are indelibly connected forever." He was firm in his desire to do it. He said, "The answer is yes," should the role work out.

Kripke now tells EW, "We both have now seen that it looks like our schedules will line up. I don't have the role for him yet just because we haven't cooked it up. We're still really early in the season 5 break, but it does seem like the planets are aligning. Barring any unforeseen disaster, it seems like it'll happen. Again, I don't know what the character is, I don't know if it's one episode or more, I genuinely know a total of zero about all of that. I'm not being coy. I really don't know."

There have been multiple Supernatural alums who crossed over onto The Boys, but Ackles appeared in a big way during season 3 as Soldier Boy, a World War II-era, Captain America-esque supe with a big connection to Homelander (Antony Starr). Kripke previously told EW that he was purposefully leaving the door open after that climactic season finale episode for more Ackles on the show.

"The old TV adage is like, never kill anyone unless you really, really have to. Never close a door, open a window," Kripke said at the time. "We'll all have to wait and see, but I can't imagine the series ending without Soldier Boy making another appearance." The actor then reprised Soldier Boy for a cameo in spinoff series Gen V.

The Boys season 4 currently belongs to Morgan, who arrives on the scene as Joe Kessler, a former colleague of Billy Butcher (Karl Urban) who shares his hatred for supes. "I just saw that his show got f---ing chicken. So I'm sure he'll get on it," Morgan told EW of Padalecki possibly joining the ranks. "I think that they're talking about it. Kripke, he'll bring him on. Jared's so f---ing big. He could just be a monster. He's Bigfoot, dude."

EW

[fandom-junk-drawer]

The Witcher Headcanon - Witcher Senses: Hearing

As a Witcher, Geralt has enhanced hearing. He can hear sound pitches that normal humans don't even know exist. The enhanced sense helps to keep him alive on the Path .

Having enhanced hearing comes in handy on the Path, but sometimes, it can be quite a curse. On one hand, you have superhuman hearing and can hear everything, but on the other hand, you have superhuman hearing and can hear everything.

When he starts traveling with Jaskier, he has to get used to all the noises another living thing makes. He's used to the sounds Roach makes as she lives her horsey life, but Jaskier brings a new set of sounds he has to grow accustomed to.

Geralt can tell how his bard is feeling by listening to the sounds he makes. He can hear if he is ill by how he breathes and how his heart beats. He can tell if the stew Jaskier ate last night is going to come out one end or the other by the rumbles in his guts.

Many times, those sounds he can hear are very annoying.

Geralt lays awake many nights, the sound of Jaskier's breathing annoying the absolute f**k out of him. He feels like he understands women better

"I can't stand the sound of his breathing", and "I hate the way he breathes!", suddenly sound like very valid reasons for murder.

And Jaskier only thinks he's being quiet when, in the wee hours of the night, he decides to visit with Mrs. Rosy Palm.

Geralt discovers that silence can be very loud indeed and he can hear him from the other side of the campsite, but he does his best to pretend to be asleep so as to not make things awkward. Sometimes he makes a few sleepy sounding grunts and gets up to pretend he needs to take a p*ss or sh*t, and heads off into the woods for a bit.

Not all the sounds Jaskier makes are annoying. Some of them are pleasant. The sound of his voice as he sings quietly to himself, or laughs, or talks about everything and anything. The sound of his bickering with Yennefer. Really just the sound of his voice in general, especially when he drops his adopted Court accent and allows his Northen accent to come out.

Those are comforting sounds; sounds that make him happy.

And of course, there are sounds that just cause a visceral reaction. There aren't many things that bother a Witcher, but Jaskier accidentally discovers one of the few sounds that does.

One evening, Jaskier decides to try to find out just how good Geralt's hearing is, and badgered Geralt with all sorts of questions about it.

Geralt puts up with the questions, some of which were absurd. Sometimes, he wonders if Jaskier is just f***ing with him, trying to see how far he can wind him up.

Jaskier ignores the death glare Geralt is giving him and sits by the fire, admiring the new comb he'd bought that afternoon.

"Can you hear a bear sh*tting in the woods?"

"Can you hear the sound of one hand clapping?"

"Oh, OH! Can you hear if people are f***ing in one of the other rooms when we stay at an inn?"

Geralt casually grumbles, "No, but I can hear you f***ing your d*mn hand in your bedroll when you think I'm asleep."

Jaskier flinches, embarrassed, but covers it with a dramatic, scandalized gasp,"HoW rUdE! cAn'T a MaN gEt aNy PrIvAcY?" He frowns at Geralt when the Witcher responds with a derisive "hm" and an eye roll.

Jaskier, embarrassed and annoyed, idly runs his fingernail down the teeth of the comb, and...

...Geralt gags violently.

"Geralt, are you alright?" Jaskier asks as Geralt swallows thickly, a surprised and confused look on his face.

Jaskier instantly forms a theory.

Ooh, let's test it out!

He glances at Geralt one more time, then back at the comb, and drags his fingernail down the teeth.

Geralt made a retching sound, and a smile split Jaskier's face.

"Jaskier, don't you dar-EeUUrRggHh!"

"JaskiEeEauUrrRgGhh!"

"Stop doing tHaRRgHhKH!"

"HeuORgHKKK!"

"FaWWWUGHKing staHhuaRk!"

"BbleeEEUaRgkH!"

Jaskier is laughing and grinning as he keeps making the godsawful sound, until Geralt lunges at him and begins chasing him around the campsite.

Jaskier is dodging and running as Geralt chases him, their progress punctuated by the toothy sound of the comb, followed by gagging.

Roach watches in bemusement as her two imbeciles continue their nonsense, until Jaskier, now too busy laughing at Geralt to look where he's going, runs into a tree.

Geralt jumps on him, hisses at him, and snatches up the wretched comb, before hurling it as hard as he can into the woods.

The rest of the evening passes in sulky silence from Geralt. He feels a little bit bad for throwing the comb, and does apologize.

Jaskier just waves the incident off. He isn't too worried about the comb because he'd bought two. He refrains (with great effort) from using this newfound knowledge for evil. At least until he gets to Kaer Morhen that winter.

Lambert is the first to fall victim. He's being an ar**hole, as usual, and Jaskier, being the petty little sh*t he is, waits until his back is turned, then retaliates.

Get combed motherf**ker!

Eskel didn't do anything wrong, he just happened to unfortunately be within earshot when Jaskier took out Lambert.

Eskel had no clue where that awful sound had come from, but he d*mn near prolapsed his esophagus when it made him gag.

The other witchers were merely victims of bardic boredom.

They were all having dinner in uncharacteristic silence. Jaskier's attempts at conversation and entertainment had been met with disapproving glares and grumbles.

Oh, ok, you gloomy b**tarts, I see how it's going to be

Jaskier casually reached into his pocket and took out the comb

The quiet sound cut through the silence like the peal of a bell.

The Hall erupted in sputtering, spat drinks, and a symphony of gagging.

Jaskier is cackling madly as Witchers all over the Great Hall rise and start coming for him, cussing and snarling.

Jaskier runs for the door, pauses, and *comb sounds*

Witchers: *doubling over, falling to their knees, gagging, puking*

Jaskier had to hide in Yennefer's room until the Witchers were no longer considering outright murder.

[abdy-18]

If I could write fanfics I would write a one-shot of the theory that [redacted]'s family was the ostanian version of the op strix, the mission ended and although we can't know if Twilight's father still loved his wife or not, I'm sure he did love his son only that he normalized violence in his education due to the time in which they lived ( [redacted] must have been a child around the 40s).

This is very long, I over thought again.

The "ostanian op strix" ended and here are three options:

He knew that Luwen was going to be bombed shortly and still decided to leave [redacted] and his mom behind knowing that they would probably die or be seriously injured

or he didn't know and went to Ostania thinking that they would be much better without him, since he was aware that he fought a lot with his wife and that his son preferred his mother over him, only to later learn that Luwen was bombed, that there is a record of his wife's body but that his son, like other children, is missing.

Or he had planned to leave Westalis, but not yet. Maybe that "work trip" he had was actually a spy mission that was going to take a few days, His plan was to finish that mission, return to Luwen, spend a few last days with his family and that is why he promised [redacted] that when he returned he would take him to the fair, then finally he would return to Ostania thinking that they're going to be better without him.Unfortunately his plan failed and he never got to say goodbye to [redacted] because he never got to return to Luwen.

In either case, he assumed that [redacted] had died because from his point of view, what chance did a little boy as weak and cowardly as his son have of surviving in a war without the care of an adult? If he didn't die from one of the bombs, then he must have starved to death.

When he arrived in Ostania, he burned his things from his previous identity (like Twilight when he was no longer Robert), but before throwing away his old wallet with westalian money and fake documents, he opened it for a moment and realized that it still had a small picture of his son, he immediately regretted opening it because he is very conscious that he has to get rid of ALL the things from his life in Westalis, but now he simply cannot burn the picture of the little boy.

He folded the photo and since then, he never saw it again, (he hid it more than Twilight hides his spy equipment in the Forger house lmao), but suddenly one day, by fate, he sees a ghost on the street, a blond man too similar to his deceased son to be coincidence, although he is trained and knows his memory is perfect, he tries to chalk it up to bad memory since it's been over 20 years since he saw the boy.

(I think Yuri did tell his boss about his sister's husband, so he knows the “ f***ing Loid Forger” by name, but he doesn't know what he looks like since Yuri only has pictures of his sister and if he has any pictures of his sister where there's Loid he probably cropped him out of the picture XD).

He doesn't interact with the man, he only saw him in the distance for a few seconds, but he still finds himself unsettled by the creepy similarity, so, for the first time in 20 years, he pulls out the box in which he's had hidden the only reminder that he ever had a family, the photo was bent, torn, crumpled, dusty and generally in very bad condition, yet he can still see the boy's features in it and although the ink on the lettering is smudged and almost fading, he can still read “[redacted] - 19xx” on the back.

Now, here I use a plot convenience to create some scenario where for some reason he lose that photo and for some reason Yuri finds it and realizes it belongs to his boss, he would see the photo and say something like “hey he looks a bit like the bastard Lotty” but I don't think he would suspect anything immediately since:

[redacted] was very young in that picture.

The kid's name is on the picture

It belongs to his boss, and I don't think he would question his superior.

So dismiss the similarity as a curious coincidence.

I'd have to think of a scenario where this makes sense, but let's imagine that Yuri keeps that photo in his coat with the intention of returning it to his boss the next day but he has an accident like I don't know, gets hit by another truck XD but this time he gets badly hurt so he has to go to the hospital.

They call Yor to go see his brother, but seeing her so worried and crying, Loid decides to accompany her for the mission™.

When they arrive, they hand Yor her brother's belongings in a bag, she puts it on her lap and asks the nurse if she can go see him, she says yes to which Yor quickly gets up and drops the bag on the floor, but she is in such a hurry that she runs away and doesn't notice.

Loid is left alone in the living room waiting for his wife, he notices that Yuri's things are on the floor and decides to pick them up, then he notices the small paper that came out of his jacket, so he takes, and when he sees the photo he sees the boy he hasn't seen in his reflection for years.

And naturally he almost fainted.

Because regardless of the identity of his father, Twilight would not be happy that he is alive, he would see him as a threat because naturally his father knows many things about him, the worst thing for a spy.

----_-

If someone for some reason is inspired by this and wants to write something, be my guest, because I seriously can't write 🥲

Thanks to anyone who has read all this jsjsj

(My first language is not English, sorry is there's mistakes🫢)

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

OOOH!that ghost kid thing with the digital circus performers was amazing!!! I cant resist but ask.but can you make a headcanons of the performers would react if spirit kid Y/n is more absent today and suddenly after a while appear with more blood than usual..static noise around them..and points at the group and is like “I know who killed me now…” and poofs again away?? they found out who but as like a scare they prank the characters by making them think maybe one of them did..

I feel evil so- XD

Hope u have a good day!!

I'm glad you liked the hcs! Spooky season may be over, but I'm definitely not done writing spooky content 👻

.........

Jax

He blinks, and then immediately turns directly to Gangle.

"Oh Gangle, I knew it was you all along. Tsk, tsk." He shakes his head, putting on the cheekiest grin as the ribbon gal cries out that she didn't do anything.

He knows you were just pranking all of them, although he does wonder who really murdered you and how you figured it out.

Given how much you've been disappearing lately, he's sure that it's only a matter of time before your spirit moves on.

Or maybe...you were cursed to forever live inside this game since you had no body to return to.

Then again, he's not sure if any of them do...

All he knows is that during the times he does see you with the group, you seem happier (although the blood and static noises are still prevalent and aren't any less unsettling to see/hear).

Maybe you've already made peace with your existence after solving this huge mystery, content with making dark jokes to cope.

Pomni

At first she's happy..

Then she's utterly terrified once it sinks in that you didn't specify who exactly murdered you.

All you did was point to the group like you were accusing one of them before disappearing for the remainder of the day.

This poor jester can't remember anything for the life of her....so she can't help wondering if she might've been your killer.

You did arrive not long after she did.

After Jax points this out, she's 100% convinced it was her.

Maybe she unknowingly killed you while wearing the headset and this was some sort of eternal punishment.

It's a thought that keeps her up all night (not that she needed sleep to survive, but she was quite exhausted in the morning).

You do end up visiting her to say it was just a little prank. It wasn't anybody in the group and you didn't mean to freak her out this badly.

That brings her a lot of relief.

Although she's not a fan of your morbid humor (not that she'll say anything about it, though).

Gangle

The second you vanish after revealing you knew your killer, everyone looks at each other in confusion

"Th-They didn't say who, though, did they...?" She mutters.

"Right, because they know it was you, Gangs." Jax remarks, causing her to freeze.

She's outright horrified he would even remotely suggest that.

Poor girl's scrambling to justify how she couldn't have possibly killed you when she's been stuck in the game longer than you.

Imagine her awkwardness as Jax openly states that he was in fact kidding around..

He also expresses his doubts she'd even be capable of murder...as he recounts her crying over accidentally stepping on a digital ladybug.

She's not sure whether to take that as a compliment or not.

Gangle only fully calms down once you go to her personally and reassure her you were just pranking the group.

Although you'll haunt Jax as payback for trying to throw her under the bus.

Zooble

They just turn to the group and sigh.

"Okay, who did it? Because they've officially given me the f***ing creeps popping in and out like that."

She's strangled Jax on a number of occasions, so they are very much capable of committing violence...

But she has her doubts since you still hang around the group.

Alongside Jax, she quickly sees through your little joke and rolls their eyes when you admit that it was indeed a prank.

She can tolerate your dark humor, knowing you can't help it given your "spooky" theme.

They suspect Caine murdered you since he seemed most alarmed by your arrival. Plus you never spoke to him much.

But no, he actually helped you track down your killer--who abstracted the second they set foot inside the game and got thrown into the cellar.

Zooble never thought she'd see the day where they were actually impressed at Caine's actions.

Kinger

Like Pomni and Gangle...he's probably gonna overthink it and grow distrustful of the others, wondering who did it.

You seemed quite confident and serious in your confession---and scary as hell, too.

He proposes they all discussed it at the dinner table and hold a vote on who to cast out (sorta like a certain video game with a name that sadly slips by him).

Ironically, he refuses to say anything and just....stares uncomfortably at Gangle the entire time.

But before any of the talks could end in fighting or her getting sacrificed to the Gloink Queen...you show up again, looking calmer and less bloody than before.

When you reveal it was just a little prank, Kinger sighs in relief.

"Good heavens, you nearly gave me a second heartattack, [y/n]! Why didn't you just say so?"

"...thought it would be funny."

"........"

"........."

"......AH!! GH-GHOST!!!"

"Aaaand there's "heartattack #2, ladies and gentleman," Jax shakes his head, kicking his feet onto the table with an amused smile.

Ragatha

She's genuinely happy to hear that you knew who your killer was...

Although before she can ask you who, you disappear without warning.

Judging from the way you acted, you were accusing one of them...yet you didn't signal out anybody in particular.

She knows that she couldn't have possibly done it.

So she spends most of the day trying to calm down Pomni and the others (but mostly Pomni) who think they might've somehow accidentally killed you.

It begins to stress her out a little, so she searches for you, and you prank her with something silly.

After making her laugh, you use that opportunity to explain that you were joking with the group earlier, reassuring her that it wasn't any of them and the killer had already abstracted.

Her face falls flat as she realizes you just wanted to see how they would all react.

"[Y/n], that's just...mean." She frowns. "Pomni was freaking out all day, you know."

"Tell her I didn't mean any harm...I guess..nobody here understands my humor."

"I mean I do, but dark humor is more Zooble's and Jax's shticks."

"....true. My bad, Rags."

".....it's okay, dear." She sighs, unable to stay mad at you forever. "I'm just glad you didn't drive yourself insane trying to find them."

[horanghater]

Hi my love!

So just a thought a mere idea -- sub top hoshi with a mommy kink

▸ Pairing: subtop!Soonyoung x F!reader

▸ Rating / Genre / AU: 18+ / pwp, smut / established relationship

If you are a minor AND/OR if your account has no age in the bio, you will be blocked upon interacting (liking/reblogging) with this post.

▸ Warnings: piv, extremely whiny Hoshi, pet names (mommy)

▸ Word Count: 851

▸ A/N: Mars you're so sick for requesting this it was so fun and I can't stand you ilu ig. Thank you @wooahaeproductions for beta-ing! 💜 💚

There’s a fire of defiance in Soonyoung’s eyes as he returns your gaze from where he lays spread eagle on the bed, furiously fisting his cock. He plays up his performance of ecstasy, moaning loudly as he lets his head roll back on the pillow that’s propping up his neck. You cock your head slightly as you lean against the doorframe of your bedroom, but continue to watch wordlessly, committing each of Soonyoung’s sounds and movements to memory. It’s not long before Soonyoung’s limbs are tight and shaky – he’s not exaggerating anymore. Each time the head of his cock peeks through the vice grip of his hand he hisses and swears, adding perfect lyrics to the sound of lube precum squelching in his grasp. When you catch him peeking at you he drops trying to hide what he wants entirely. 

Soonyoung doesn’t ask to cum. He lets his muscles tighten painfully and then relax, groaning loud and deep like he used to before he knew you. Before he surrendered his body – and by extension his orgasms – to you. Before you were there to wind him up into a whiny, needy slut and only find relief when you said so. 

The silent conversation between you and Soonyoung ends when his breathing steadies and he lets out a low, satisfied hum as dark brown orbs meet yours once again. This was a demand for attention. Lucky for him, it’s your favorite thing to provide.

“O-oh f-f-fuck! Fuck!” Soonyoung cries as you tweak his nipples, head dropping so you’re forehead-to-forehead.

“Language,” you remind him sternly.

It’s difficult to sound unaffected with Soonyoung rutting into you off rhythm, but hard and right in the spot you need him most. He’s been loving you, worshiping you, fucking you for years at this point; even when he’s delirious with need, he knows exactly how to burrow into yours until he’s all you can think of. Nonetheless, you must maintain as much composure as you can if this punishment is going to be successful.

“S-sorry! Sorry, Mommy, it was-s an-n-n accident.” Soonyoung has been plunging into the depths of your velvet walls for at least an hour now. You’ve already cum several times, but at your order he hasn’t at all, circling atop the whirlpool of orgasm to the point of painful sensitivity.

Soonyoung had demanded attention, but didn’t specify what kind. You’re simply filling in the gaps for him by eeking out every drop of his sanity with your body. 

“Mm, I forgive you, baby,” you sigh breathlessly as Soonyoung hikes you up by your hips to roll into you deeper than before.

“Tha-ank you, M-Mommy! Can- Can I-I?” 

The laugh you let out barely disguises the moan that Soonyoung’s cock drives from you. “What do you think, Soonie? Think you’ve learned your lesson?”

Soonyoung’s head bobbles above you as he nods feverishly, whimpering as you tighten yourself around him with your question. “Mmhmm!” is the best verbal response he can offer. 

Truthfully, you haven’t got much longer before you lose this battle of endurance. Soonyoung isn’t even really competing anymore, but you want to rub his nose in the predicament he’s created one last time before letting go. 

So you chastise him even as your climax licks at the corners of your vision. “Where’s my apology, then?”

“‘M s-sorry,” he pants, struggling to pull out of you enough to even thrust with how tightly your pussy is starting to grip around his swollen cock. 

“For?” you egg him on, your own voice raising an octave as your climax threatens to overtake you.

Soonyoung’s too far gone to care about your mask slipping or how pathetic he seems at this moment. His tiny grunts and whines are already signaling that he’s lost, ready to completely submit to your will if it might provide even a crumb of relief. 

“What are you sorry for, Soonie?” The sound of your voice barely catches him in time to bring him back to your conversation. “U-um! Uh!” He may be present, but clearly, the searing kiss of your pussy around him has addled his mind. 

You start to speak aloud of one of your many rules until Soonyoung starts mumbling them out and you can just mouth along beneath him.

“‘M sorry f-for being a g-greedy slut and…touching – ha – M-M-Mommy’s – nngh – property withou-out p-permission. Mommy!” 

You cum around Soonyoung’s length once more and wrap your arms around his back to bring your sweaty bodies together. Soonyoung nearly sobs as you squeeze, forcing your torsos together so all he can do is thrust sloppily into your hole as you finally give him permission to succumb to his release.

“Thankyou, thankyou, thankyou, thankyou!” Soonyoung rushes out before he screams weakly into your shoulder, body seizing up as hot cum fills you with an almost violent force. 

The two of you stay together like that for a few minutes, sticky and gasping for oxygen as Soonyoung’s spend begins to leak lazily from your abused cunt.

Soonyoung knows the polite way to get your attention, but sometimes begging for your forgiveness is much more fun.

[ask-whitepearl-and-steven]

Sup Chekhov. I was out of touch with the comic series for a while now but I just got done re-reading everything, both the stuff I already seen and the newer stuff. I gotta say, I F@#$ING LOVED IT!!! Seriously, if Rebecca Sugar ever decides to reboot SU, she better hire you to make your comic a show. But I got to ask, eventually all great things must come to an end, even your AU here, so what would come next for you? A "Steven AUniverse Future", a new AU, what? You where the very first person I ever followed on Tumbler, and I would love to continue to read your work about SU for quite a while more. Well, anyways, thanks for the story so far, and I can't wait to see what comes next.

Hey, thanks! It's always fun to hear that people came back after not reading for a while.

And although I appreciate the gesture, I don't think that's quite how... reboots..... work? They can't just go to Cartoon Network and go "hey, remember that story about a little guy you made? That entire familiar storyline? Well we wanna reboot that with an ENTIRELY DIFFERENT LITTLE GUY. Yeah. Completely different story."

I'm fairly certain that would not happen. That's just not a done thing in the industry.

That being said, I'd love to work on an SU!Original project if it ever happens. Alas.... I don't think the fandom is level-headed enough at the moment for that to be the case.