#but we kept that fucker alive

[giganotus]

favorite thing about playing a DnD campaign module: finding out how much we deviated from the original module's plan

[orangetintedglasses]

( my entirely normal reaction when someone else talks about an underrated game from my teen years )

[heavenbarnes]

under no circumstances did your simon want anyone from work knowing you existed.

far as the 141 (or anyone vaguely military) were concerned, simon was single.

when johnny tried to play matchmaker, he just assumed simon was guarded. when gaz harped on about this girl from his gym, he just assumed she wasn’t his type.

the boys lived with illusions of simon returning to an empty, sterile, sad excuse for a home. hardly a home, probably a shoebox of an apartment with the bare basics of furniture.

maybe a rhythmic drip of a faucet to keep him company.

never even an inkling of an idea that he might be coming home to you.

you who kept the home clean, but lived in- warm and loved in. soft things at every corner, soft bed you both slept in, soft couch for him to hold you on. doesn’t smell sterile, smells nice, smells like-

well, you.

it wasn’t shame, embarrassment- if he could, he’d tell any poor sod who’d listen just how much he adored you.

simon thought himself the luckiest fucker alive for even knowing you, let alone loving you. he’d die a thousand lonely times if he did anything to lose you.

safety.

“this job doesn’t lend itself to lovers” price’s voice had rung loud in his head.

he knew his captain was right, he trusted his word more than he trusted his own mind. but his captain hadn’t met you yet.

he hadn’t seen that look you could give him, fluttering lashes and a hazy smile. he hadn’t felt the way you held him, when the days were long and his actions were unforgivable.

he didn’t know that you’d forgive every terrible thing simon had ever done, without a second thought.

you weren’t just a lover, you were the start and end of it all. his big bang.

nobody was ever supposed to know you existed.

simon had been so careful, so fucking careful- he’d suffered days and nights keeping your existence secret. it still wasn’t enough.

it wasn’t johnny’s fault, he didn’t blame johnny but that was one person who knew you in the greater context of “ghost.”

one too many.

“d’ya know L.T’s got a pretty thing at home?”

gaz had laughed, laying another card on the table as he did it.

“and who’d that be? her majesty the queen?”

price even snorted a chuckle out his nose, surveying the hand he was sure to play.

“wouldn’t give me a name, all he’d give me w’sweetheart”

“simon’s got a sweetheart named sweetheart? yeah, and i’ve got a chance at beating the captain”

sweetheart.

security measure two, when the first fails. no names, an alias that was easy to remember. no slip ups.

thankfully, everyone thought johnny had been chatting shit (as he often did) and didn’t care to push further.

but rumours only grow.

simon felt like he was living his life checking around corners. he was used to it at work, but when he was home he was meant to be free.

he couldn’t breathe knowing you could be compromised- that there was a chance he could lose you when he feels like he only just found you.

and when you were finally compromised? hell hath no fury.

there was only one option, they wouldn’t stop hunting you. they knew you were the only thing simon was scared to lose. to him, there was no other way.

price’s hands might’ve shook as he placed the folded flag in your hands, royal blue and silken. returning his mask to its rightful home, skull plate staring back at you.

where his eyes should be.

“if there is anything we can do”

all you could do was a blank stare right through him- show no emotion, show no fear. simon’s words were banging around your head.

that unmistakable feeling of eyes on your back as you retreated, carrying what was left of “ghost” back to your home. to your bed, military corners still tucked perfectly.

gently laying the flag to rest, running the mask through your fingers. what could a ghost really feel like?

bringing it to your lips, pressing a sweet kiss to its centre- where you usually might, before you’d send him off to fight for his country, always assuming he’d come home.

he’d been so careful, it wasn’t enough, everything had changed.

he had to change.

he let you pull the mask over his face, tracing the shape of the skull under a gentle finger tip. standing on your toes to press a kiss-

right between the eyes.

“something isn’t right, he kept this secret damn near the whole time we knew him- he dies and suddenly it all falls in our laps?”

gaz and johnny tailing price as he tore through the base, your file tucked under his arm. thin wee thing that it was, barely enough to piece together an idea.

might as well be chasing ghosts.

“simon sacrificed his life to keep that one safe, why the fuck would he let the details out? when he’s not alive to protect-“

the door was nearly off its hinges with the three men bursting through, putting the fear right through the wee thing at the desk.

“where are simon riley’s ashes?”

“oh, i’m sorry- they’ve already been claimed”

“who? by who?”

whilst the poor girl was gingerly sliding the record towards price, johnny was letting himself into the back room. a space that’d once contained simon’s urn, empty spare the twisted plastic full of fine grey dust.

“cap’n, you’re gonna’ want t’see this”

gaz was nearly vaulting the counter, snatching the ashes out of johnny’s trembling hand.

men with precision aim reduced to a murmur.

“who the fuck did we cremate?”

both men looking to their captain for- for what? help? a fucking clue as to what they’ve really got themselves into?

no use.

price was running a finger down the log book, settling on the name “simon ‘ghost’ riley.” signed out within the hour, only thing left being some poor fucker’s ashes and a set of initials.

signed out by S.H

S.H

sweetheart.

[jarofstyles]

In The Woods- Scarred

Hello my loves! I know it took a while but here is the second part to scarred. I'm unsure if I'm going to do a lot more with them besides some blurbs but that could change :)

Read the first part Here

Check out our Patreon for over 100+ exclusives and early access

WC- 7k

warnings- mention of anxiety, scarring, bullying, halloween, exhibitionism, mask/makeup kink, unprotected sex, degradation, slight fear play(??)

Enjoy xoxoxo

---------

Harry was shy. 

Y/n hadn't expected that stunning revelation in the time that she knew him, but without the layer of makeup? The man was cute. Fucking adorable, even, because he was a blushy mess.

It was apparent how Harry did have some issues with doubting himself and that just wasn’t going to cut it with Y/N. She knew that his anxiety was valid, that he had gone through things that made him think the way he did, but it only gave her a challenge she was more than up for. Flirting with him, making it apparent how absolutely gorgeous he was to her, and making him blush. 

His trust had been one of the most precious things she had ever been handed and she wasn’t going to do anything to put that into jeopardy. When she arrived back at work when people saw them arrive together, she had been bombarded with questions about him. What he looked like, how he was outside of work, but they got no answer other than ‘handsome’. When asked if she had any images, she blankly stared at the group. Of course she didn’t take any photos, because why would she betray his trust like that? 

‘He doesn’t want to share and he’s a private person. We’re dating and I got to see a part of him he doesn’t feel comfortable sharing here, and I’m not going to betray his trust for some gossip.’ 

Y/N’s mom-like scolding had them backing off, but she could see Harry lingering off to the side with a smirk on his face as he adjusted his costume. Droplets of fake blood crackled a little when he met her eyes in the mirror. He was pleased with her.

She didn’t even know how much it meant to him. To have a safe person. She sung his praises without giving anything away and to be honest? He had been shocked at how well she’d handled constant prodding from overly curious and downright nosy coworkers. They’d all quiet down or walk away when he came over but Y/N would remain there, standing pretty and smiling at him as he approached. 

“Got eaten alive?” He murmured, helping fluff her purposely messy hair. “Poor thing. Nosy fuckers they are, hm?” The tone of voice was low, just for the two of them to hear. She could see his dimple under the makeup, making her want to poke at it but she refrained. It wasn’t the time. 

“Yeah. S’a shame. Eating me is your job.” A coy glance made him stiffen for a second before he clicked his tongue, shaking his head at his girl’s antics. She’s been shameless this whole time. Their established relationship had gone on 2 weeks now but they’d kept it under wraps, all the while she would follow him home or vice versa. Their sex wasn’t stuck to one place anymore, and Harry took full advantage of the positions he could get her in a proper bed or bent over a kitchen counter. Adventurous sex had been a new one for him, and he was taking full advantage. 

“It is, isn’t it?” He sighed. “Shame I couldn’t do it before we came. M’starved.” Painted fingers pulled her in by the corseted waist, letting her lean back to peer at him. “I expect a three course meal after we leave. Maybe four, but I know we’ve been working on getting you there. Maybe tonight will be the night, hm?” 

Another new revelation in their blooming relationship was how utterly obsessed her new boyfriend was with giving her pleasure. Orgasms galore, so much so that she felt a near constant state of sensitivity- but she couldn’t complain. Not when she reaped the benefits of his generous nature. She found his mouth or hands in her more often than not, and if there would be no repercussions there was no doubt in her mind that Harry would crawl on the floor and under her skirt to give her an orgasm before they went out to the attraction- but alas, consequences would be fierce. 

“Let’s keep it calm, big boy.” Her hand smoothed over his chest, patting the warmth of it. “Three is more than enough, but it depends on how good you scare the people tonight.” 

Harry with his chainsaw, it was some sort of foreplay. How he got into a mindset and plotted scares, she could watch form across the way as he revved up the machine and made people sprint. He’d choose the victim of a scare and follow them around for a bit, making them uneasy, all while cornering them closer to Y/N’s section- letting them in for a double haunt that would leave people screeching. 

Realistically, Y/N it was the adrenaline and endorphins, but seeing her boyfriend- yes, she still did a little squeak in her head every time she thought the word- be so good at the job, seeing mid shift when his hair fell slightly in his face and that one curl went over his forehead, she was ready to jump him by the end of the night. He’d find his way over to her a few times a night, brush her dress with his fingers and give her a wink whenever she caught his view, wordlessly promising whatever the hell he wanted afterwards. It was hard to keep her cool when there was something so sexy about seeing him in this sort of element. Confident and hot, she loved watching him know people were both attracted and in fear of him. 

“You know I love a challenge.” He purred, already finding his groove. “Maybe it will be my most terrifying night yet. If you’re the prize at the end of the line, I’m going to give it my all.” Of course he was turning on the charm now, making her flush under her own makeup. He was suave when he did it here, but she knew when they left and the makeup was off he would be a little less smooth with it. A bit more clumsy, and she adored both sides of him. 

“I’ll hold it to you, sir.” She replied, leaning up to leave a little peck on his lips before brushing past him. It was time to see just how bad he wanted it.

—---------

Harry had a point to prove. That much was obvious, watching the glint in his eyes as he stalked past her after his current scare. She was doing her own haunt, which was a lot more different than Harry’s stalk and follow approach. Y/N was more of a jump scare sort of thing, waiting for them to get closer and act just a bit off before deciding to scream and lunge at them. 

His chainsaw hung by his side as he brushed past her, pinning her with his glare. It was full of promise. He was doing incredible tonight, a bit ruthless with his scares and getting people screaming and running. Y/N stayed in her assigned area whereas he had more room to move around, so he was moving them towards her. The guests were shaking, some in particular crying, and she knew that she was most definitely going to be breaking personal scare records tonight. 

It was incredible to watch. With the challenge being given of making it a scarier night and the reward being access to her, he took it seriously. Showing off for her, sending more guests her way for a second half of his scare. He’d loved to watch her get into it, screeching in their faces and going back to acting like nothing happened right afterwards. Y/N was his little devil, his vampire queen, and little did the people know that the bruises underneath the fake blood were all too real, from him. The adrenaline from the scares, the promise of what was to come and the heated glances between the two had him half hard his entire shift, eager to get back to his place to take her- if he could last that long. 

Harry did his best to behave as they went backstage. Keeping his hands to himself, he changed privately and came back out with his leather jacket hanging on his shoulder, a predatory gaze on her while she socialized. He knew she was stalling, teasing as she slowly wiped away the show makeup and fake blood on her skin and neck. Taking her grand old time to hang up her costume and gossip about a group of particularly obnoxious guests they’d had tonight, a school group that had been the worst kind. Teenage boys who tried to ‘scare’ the scare actors. Harry had been the one to scare the shit out of them, following them around and popping out randomly to make them scream. It’d been a good night.

She just needed to stop stalling. His cock was thickening as he watched her cotton pad wipe away the pale makeup, exposing her natural skin and the marks he left remaining on her throat. Her tank top clung to her and the shorts she had worn in were a temptation even before now, his neediness showing when he’d whined when she walked out of his bathroom with them on. It was torture. Y/N had the upper hand here, but she would lose it as soon as they were alone.

As people filtered out and Y/N threw her bag over her shoulder, Harry emerged from the shadowy hall he was hiding in to wrap his arm around her shoulder. His girl jumped before scoffing, nudging him as she let him know how she felt. “You know, I should probably be concerned about how you like to watch me like a stalker after our shifts, but it arouses me instead.” She sighed, admitting the unfortunate truth. She liked feeling his eyes on her, knowing he was thinking about what was to come. 

His makeup was still on, his green eyes exposed instead of the contacts he wore during his scares. It was also probably concerning how much she enjoyed it, but she figured it was akin to having a bit of a mask kink. Roleplay in a sense. Prior to getting to see his natural face, she had only seen the makeup get slightly smudged from the sweat and her mouth, but it was applied there with a firmness most women must be envious of. He had to have gotten the best shit there was. Sometimes she watched from the counter as he applied it with practiced ease, watching the skeletal makeup engulf and change his face. It was like watching him get into character. When the makeup was off, he was a bit more of a shyer boy with her. A little needy and clingy, soft spoken and tender touches. Sweet like honey, gooey and easy to break. With the makeup on? His disguise gave him a filthy amount of confidence, one that had him falling into that dominant, cocky nature she also adored. 

“Eh. You like to be chased and thrown around a bit.” He shrugged, his hand swinging with hers as he made his way to his car. “Don’t think there's anything necessarily wrong with enjoying how your boyfriend admires and follows you around. Especially when you know what lies ahead for you.” There it was. The cockiness that made him smirk, the moonlight hitting him just right so she could see the imprint of his dimple.  

“Mmm.” She hummed, following him slightly from behind. The parking lot was basically empty, but it wasn’t empty enough for his plans. Plus, he didn’t know what sort of security lay in hiding- so he was thinking about his options. He wanted to play tonight. Play a bit more than usual. They only had another week left of this job before they settled into normal life again, the season ending relatively soon. 

Harry helped her into the car, taking her duffle and his own bag to throw in the backseat before fishing his keys from his pocket and sliding into the driver's seat. Turning it into the ignition, he kept his eyes on the road as he began to drive off in the opposite direction of his house. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”

—----

Y/N hadn’t known what the surprise was, but she sure as fuck got nervous when the car turned onto a wooded path. She trusted Harry, but she was unsure what the fuck could possibly be up this path that only seemed to wind upwards on an incline. He ignored her questioning, squeezing her thigh and told her it was fine as he smirked. She wasn’t truly distressed but her heart was beating harder as they made it up to an empty gravel parking lot at the top of the hill. 

Her nerves died down as her eyes widened, looking at the view. It was a perfect view of the lake and town below them. She’d never heard of this spot, but she definitely was a fan. He parked somewhat in the middle, letting them look out at the twinkling stars and the town below them, the boats bobbing on the water. The night was cool and he left the windows up to preserve some of the heat when he turned the car off and backed his chair up the most it could go. 

“Never got to fool around the way most people did in school. Know this is a local spot where people come to play… and I know about your exhibition streak.” His hand stroked her bare skin, turned to look at her. “So I figured… Why not now?”

That’s how she ended up on his lap, hands in his hair as he held both sides of her ass. Squeezing, kneading, playing with her like his own personal toy, Harry was enjoying it thoroughly as she gently rocked on top of him. His mouth was greedy for her own, surely smudging some of the black and white makeup onto her skin but she didn’t care. Sitting on his thicker thighs, letting him touch her as he pleased, she was only focused on how good it felt to kiss him. 

“Such a pretty girl.” He mumbled as his lips went down her neck. “D’you know how happy it makes me to know they all know you’re mine?” It more than pleased him. Harry had never been as proud of having a girlfriend as he was with Y/N. She genuinely liked him, she saw both sides and didn’t prefer either one. Instead, she embraced him and went with his sometimes erratic flow, never seeming to mind. 

“They’re jealous.” She replied, leaning her head back as his mouth worked over the sensitive skin. His teeth nipped, of course, lips attaching to suck another mark she could hide with her hair as she continued. “Jealous I’ve got you. Some act happy but… they ask how I managed to get to know you. Said you never hooked up with anyone before me… And that makes me very happy.” Y/N had a possessive streak of her own, something that Harry fucking loved. He loved watching her pride when she walked with him, both in and out of makeup, and watching the slight irritation she had when people dug a little too deep into wanting to know about them. They never knew Harry was watching from the shadows, almost always following his girl around from a distance. She knew, though. She would shoot him looks to where she thought he was hiding, making him like her even more. 

“Know it does, my possessive girl. You don’t like t’share, hm?” He purred as he pulled back from the fresh mark. “Pretend to complain about the marks I leave on you but you leave ‘em out so they can see. You like them knowing you’re satisfied. Love that they know I’m the one fucking you.” It sent tingles up his spine knowing that. He’d been so used to people being ashamed of him that seeing her be so protective of him was just as arousing as it was heartwarming. 

His fingers strayed from her ass to find the waistband of those pesky little shorts, sliding them down so he had full access to her. He didn’t see her usual pantie line when she’d emerged from the changing booth and he was proven correct as she gasped. “Look at you. Naughty thing, walking around without panties… Why’s that? Thought you loved it when I stuffed them in that pretty mouth to shut you up.” He cooed, sliding one hand down to her cunt, cupping it to make her gasp. 

“I-I wanted it to be easier for you. You were teasing me all night and they were ruined anyway.” It wasn’t something she’d admit to anyone else, but the scaring with Harry aroused her. She loved making people scream, loved watching her boyfriend do the same with no fear in his eyes. Loved even more so when he moved them into her scare zone and helped her out with one. Then he had been following her around with that glint in his eye, always fucking watching her. Y/N loved it, loved that he was always there. There was probably a psychological reason, but all she knew was that her poor underwear had been soaked through. 

“Oh?” He chuckled under his breath. “Should’ve known. You do tend to be a mess when we scare together. Even more than when I just follow you around. Something’s wrong with us, hm? But we don’t care.” He pressed his lips to hers as his thumb found her clit, humming as she gasped against his mouth. She was slippery and wet, his favorite way for her to be as he played with her, rubbing circles over the little swollen button. “No, you like when things are wrong. Like to be watched and followed by me until I bend you over in that dressing room and shove my hand down these slutty little shorts. You taunt and tease and then act surprised when I fuckin’ ruin you.” 

Y/N keened, rubbing herself against him as he moved his thumb on her. Everything he said was the truth so all she could do was nod. She’d been so worked up during the night that even this felt good enough to orgasm from, his rough circles and deep voice getting deep into her head and igniting the flames in her belly. 

“Yeah? Just nodding, can’t even deny it. Knew you wore those to spite me. You just love the idea of someone catching us. Filthy girl, I know you. Know what your body likes.” He rubbed a bit harder, feeling her lean further into him as he did so. “What part has you humping my hand like you’re in heat? Was it feeling my eyes on you all day? Having people be jealous of us? Scaring people?” Y/N couldn’t speak, just whining as she nodded. All of the above.  

Y/N would have been ashamed of how quickly she was about to cum if he hadn’t been tormenting her all night. Like he didn’t know how much those things got to her. Her nails dug into the man’s shoulders, breathing heavy as her mouth opened. “I’m gonna cum.” She warned, albeit in a whimpery tone. Harry loved when she talked like that. His thumb was strong and kept up the movements as they were, his hand holding the back of her neck to keep her forehead pressed to his. 

“Go ahead. Make a mess of my lap, sweetheart. Can’t believe how worked up you are.” He cooed. He could, actually. Considering he was just as wound up, he was throbbing inside of his pants but preferred her pleasure over his own. “C’mon, baby. Can feel it.” 

He could tell as she began to fall over the edge, her body moving to hold onto his harder and her head falling into his own as his thumb continued the movements to work her through it. She let out a desperate moan, shivering in his arms. Harry loved making her cum, it was one of his favorite things to do- and getting to see each thing, hear each moan, he was only feeding into the addiction. 

“There we go, my sweet girl.” He praised. “Just ride it out.” Harry soothed her as the orgasm began to die down, pulling his thumb away as soon as she needed a second to be sensitive and pulling it into his mouth with a hum. His whole hand was wet with her, but tasting her on his skin was another level of hot. 

Y/N knew he wasn’t done. Not in the slightest. Her hand found his jaw and pulled him back for a kiss, drooping on his lap as she kissed him hungrily. The taste of her was still slight on his tongue, making her search for more. Her hands went to his belt, Harry allowing her to undo it and slide it off- but stopped her when she got to the zipper.

“Want t’try something new with you.” He started, suddenly opening the car door and standing up with her in his grip. Her shorts fell off onto the ground but that was the least of her worries as he rounded the front, gently bending her over the hood of his car. The cold metal of the vehicle made her wince momentarily, but his warm palms ran over her immediately to try and make it up to her. The night was chilly but her body was hot from the arousal she felt, his body in between her thighs as she moved for him. 

“Want to take you just like this.” He explained, taking her wrists one by one and placing them to lay behind her back. “And I want you to scream for me. No one’s out here… No one can hear us- or maybe they can.” His hand gave a gentle smack to her ass as he teased. “Just let me take you out in the open. Would’ve done it in the parking lot at work but… Cameras.” He didn’t want anyone else seeing her on video. No, nothing except his own one day. He wanted to have a private folder of the filthy views he got to see, her creaming on his cock, her ass jiggling against his hips, her glossy eyes as he slipped as much as he could down her throat. He wanted to document the pleasure to look at as his own time.  He’d never had someone he liked so much, someone’s body he was so addicted to. 

“Okay, just fuck me.” She panted, wiggling her ass against him. “Just do it, please. Been waiting all night and I need you.” All of this was hotter than most things she dreamt of. Harry taking her out to a wooded clearing, ready to fuck her in his scary makeup over the hood of his car? It sounded like something out of a horror movie about to turn wrong, but she knew he liked her too much. He worshiped her in ways she didn't know possible. It was a fantasy come true. 

“Relax, baby.” He cooed. “Don’t think you should be making too many demands. Y’know I like to be in charge.” She stiffened for a moment as she felt the tip of his cock brush through her folds before arching herself back, whining coming from her throat as he moved back and forth over her clit. “I know you’re achy, know your cunt’s a greedy little thing. M’gonna give it to you but… I just wanted to see this.” He held her by the small of her back keeping her still as he finally began to push in. 

Y/N’s eyes watered as she felt the stretch of him. Relief. She’d been taunted and teased and Harry was finally giving her what they both wanted. He was slow as he did it, his eyes locked at the puffy lips of her cunt as it swallowed him up. Pushing in and taking his time despite a bit of squirming. The wet, spongy walls engulfed him and squeezed tight, spoiling him in the sensation. There was nothing quite like this- quite like her. It didn’t feel this good with anyone else, nor had he ever done it at a place like this. He wouldn’t want to feel it, no other pussy or hole would be as good for him as this one was. Part of it was their emotional connection, he was positive about that, but he swore they had been made for each other physically. Her cunt was made specifically for him to cum in, and his cock to pleasure her. 

Her mouth opened and she let out a moan as he pulled out a little to thrust back in. He could feel his hunger for her growing as he continued, his eyes locked on where they were joined. The light was dim but there was enough moonlight to see her arousal coating him, glistening as he pulled out and pushed back in. It was their warm up, going easy and teasing just a little bit more. 

“Harder, please.” Y/N bleated, trying to wriggle around but to no avail. Harry had her pinned, and she was at his mercy. It would be embarrassing how wet she was getting if she didn’t know how much he loved it. No doubt he was staring at it now, as he always seemed to be mesmerized at how good they looked together. “Please give me more. You’re bein’ mean.” 

Harry stopped, chuckling under his breath as he buried himself to the hilt, prick snug and warm inside of her. Caressing her back, he slid his hand up and down until he got to her ass, squeezing over it. “You think this is being mean to you, darling?” He murmured, grinding himself into her and smirking as he felt her gasp as his cock hit that sweet spot. “I think I’ve been quite nice. Gave you a chance to adjust, didn’t split you open and wreck you. But I should have known better… m’dealing with a needy slut.” His words hissed against her ear as he bent over the car with her, pressing his body into her. “That’s what I get for bein’ a nice boyfriend. What did you want, hm? Wanted that scary man back from work? Gets you wet, we both know. Watching me make people scream, but it's you who wants that. Nasty little whore wants to be ruined.” He pulled up, hand wrapping around the nape of her neck and pinning her back to the car after she tried to follow. “No. I was nice, but you want something else. Want me to show you mean, princess?” His opposite hand came down rough on her ass, making her yelp. “I’ll show you mean.” 

It was gloves off. Y/N should have known she was playing with fire, but she’d been desperate. Harry began to fuck her. Well and truly, fuck her. Hand on the back of her neck pressing her into the car as she cried out into the chilly night air, owning her as her whimpers echoed off the trees. 

“Oh fuck, oh fuck- yes.” Her mouth fell open, hard to speak the words she really wanted to. It made her wet, wetter than usual to have her boyfriend take her out and fuck her where they could potentially get caught. He had said this was a makeout spot, a sightseeing destination, but here he was. Pounding her cunt for all it was worth and making it weep. “S’good, s’good, H-Harry…” 

“Yeah? It’s good?” He sneered. “Finally good enough for the little cockslut? Wasn’t enough that I took you out here… bent you over my car and spread your legs like a bitch in heat… mm, no.” His thrusts were deep and hard, making her move and yelp a little bit as he fucked inside. “Been so nice to you lately, been so fucking sweet… Almost forgot about how much of a nasty bitch you can be.” Harry smacked her ass again, the stinging pain making her cunt quiver around him- because this was perfect. Filthy, a little bit wrong, and a little dangerous. 

“Sopping pussy, so fucking needy. Never seen such a dirty girl in my life, but s’why your mine, isn’t it?” He cooed, acting as if he wasn’t pummeling her. Y/N could barely breathe, his rough thrusts making her cheek press harder into the warming metal. She could hear it, hear how messy she was making the both of them and it only made it worse. She was bare and vulnerable to the world and Harr was just taking it, taking care of her and using what she was offering. Ruining her like he had been meant to do. 

“Uh huh.” She gasped, feeling the tears return to her eyes. “I-I’m yours, I’m yours, my body is yours, I want to m-make you happy.” The words were a hiccuped plea, the warm tears growing cold against her skin as the beginnings of her orgasm were starting to take over. Neither of them would last long like this, not after the foreplay and the new situation. She hadn’t expected to be bent over a car in the middle of the forest and fucked into oblivion in the moonlight, no, but this was quickly becoming a favorite. “Face- I wanna see your face, please.” 

Harry paused, smiling to himself as she asked to look at him. He was still in his makeup, albeit smeared, but he knew how much she loved it. He obliged, carefully pulling out and turning her over so her back laid against the hood. “There’s my pretty girl.” His mean persona melted away for a moment as he bent down to kiss her hard, pushing the hair away from her sweaty face. “Adore you. You okay?” He wasn’t a stranger to her crying during sex from the pleasure, but he wanted to double check.

“Mhm.” She was dazed, but so fucking good. He had surprised her for sure, but she loved every part of this. “Perfect. Keep making me cry, Sir.”

His eyes darkened once more at the honorific. Y/N knew how to push buttons, and she did it successfully with him. Maybe she was a glutton for punishment, but she didn’t care. Seeing his face turn like that, even hidden beneath the layers, it made her clench around nothing. “Inside me, please.”

“At least the slut’s got manners.” He scoffed, angling himself as he thrust back in. It was a different view here. Instead of watching her ass bounce against him, he got to see her tits moving under her tank top as he began his thrusting yet again. They were covered in the thin excuse of a top and that simply wouldn’t do. “Why are you hiding from me? Let me see your tits.” He grunted, thumb finding her clit as he stared down at her. Y/N stared at him with a dazed expression for a moment before he snarled, smacking his fingers over her clit. “Know you get dumb on my cock, but fucking listen to me.”

And oh- Oh, Y/N loved that. Maybe there was something severely wrong with her, but she loved when he talked like that. It sent her into a frenzy, her poor abused pussy gushing slightly around him as he smacked her clit again. A keening whine left her throat as she scrambled to lift her shirt up, baring herself to him. It was a little humiliating in the best way. Being basically naked while getting fucked out in the open, her body flushed in heat now so the cold didn’t bother her and sounds leaving her body without her permission. Harry was playing into a fantasy, one she was all too aware of wanting to happen again. Anyone could drive up and see him wrecking her, anyone could watch how good she got fucked. 

“There you go. Not that hard, was it? My pretty, dumb little slut.” The man cooed, fingers finding her nipples, pinching them as he railed her.  “God, you’re making such a fucking mess on me. Gonna put me away wet, hm? Or should I make you suck me on the way back? Bet you would.” He babbled, watching as her breasts bounced at the force of his thrusts and her face pinched in pleasure. The sound of their fucking was audible, the smack of skin hot and heavy as it echoed off the trees. Y/N wasn’t being quiet, much to his delight. Moaning for him, for more, little crystalline tears dribbling out of the corners of her eyes and looking so pretty as they trailed down her cheeks. She was rambling about how good it felt, how much she needed him, and it fueled that evergrowing ego. 

Outside of their sex, he was the sweetest thing. He liked to dote on her and cuddle her, learning her skincare routine and braiding her hair when she was too tired after work. He took her to the park and made their own lunches, trying to expand outside his slightly agoraphobic bubble because she was giving him the affection and confidence he needed. Y/N wasn’t at all ashamed to be seen holding his hand or kissing his cheek, she had changed his life and ways she had no clue of- and giving her the best sex possible was the least he could do. 

During sex she liked him a little mean, which he loved to lean into. But this was a lot, and she was responding so fucking well- he knew from their limits discussion that he was okay to do it, but seeing it actually pan out positively gave him a confidence kick yet again.  

Her babbling continued but got higher in pitch, her eyes continuing to cry as she sniffled and whimpered his name as she held on to one of his forearms with force. “Yes, anything y-you want. Wanna make you happy, Sir. Please, I just…” She let out a little sob. “M’gonna cum. Can I? Please?” The beg was cute, his smirk growing on his face as he looked at the desperation on hers. There was something so erotic about this vision in front of him. Her lips still stained from her lipstick and puffy from their kisses and biting, the tiniest bit of mascara still on her lashes smearing under her eyes, his prior love bites in different stages on her tits- this was fucking heaven and he wished he could photograph it- but that was for later. 

“May I.” He scolded, smacking over her clit again to make her jolt. “Ask properly, and you can.” 

Y/N scrambled to answer as he felt the beginnings of it on his cock. He knew how perfect it felt when she came wrapped around him, but it was even better that she wanted his approval.  “May I cum, please Sir? Please- I can’t hold it, I really can’t, wanna be good, I need to-” Her panicked voice broke as his thumb brushed repeatedly over her swollen clit. There was no way she could hold it. Not when he was looking down at her with that glint in his eye. 

“Do it. Make a mess.” He ordered. “Cum for me, now.” He continued his thrusts as he felt the rapid clenching take over, her back arching and tits thrust in the air as she let go. Creaming around him, shivering as she let out a broken sob yet again, louder this time as she writhed under him. Her hot walls pulsed around him, as if begging for his cum- and he was going to give it to her. 

“Fuck, there’s my girl. Look so fucking gorgeous when you cum f’me, shit.” He grit through his teeth as his thrusts grew sloppy. “Where do you want it? Where does my pretty little whore want that cum?” He didn’t have much time left for her to answer, but her body did it for him. Lifting her legs and wrapping them around his waist, pulling him into her as she finally found the words.

“In, inside, inside me, Harry. Cum in me, give it to me, I want it.” She rambled, begging for it. How could he ever say no to that? The desperation, the true yearning for him to bust his load inside of her hot, perfect cunt and paint it white, he couldn’t resist it. His eyes took in the scene in front of him, how her puffy cunt was clinging to him as he pushed her open. The mess of slick and cream forming a filthy ring around the base of his cock as he fucked into her, smeared over the sides. Her trembling thighs and hard nipples moved along with his movement. Her swollen clit that was sensitive to the touch, how he fucking stretched her to the brim. There was nothing hotter than this. 

He cursed loudly as he began to climax, his balls throbbing as he began to spurt his load inside of her. Mouth open and eyes hooded in pure rapture, he watched as his sloppy thrusts inside of her and his cum began to coat him, making even more of a mess between them. It was nasty and hot and perfect for this scenario, a scary man taking a pretty, innocent little thing for all she was worth over the hood of his car in the dark woods. The strength of said orgasm surprised him, making him lean further over and pull her into him. His face found hers, kissing her mouth again as he worked them through the aftershocks of their pleasure, pulling her up so he could hold her against him. 

“My perfect girl. Did so good, always so fuckin’ good for me.” He mumbled against her mouth, giving her the praise he knew she needed. He hadn’t been that mean before and while she enjoyed it, she needed to have no doubts whatsoever about his affections for her. “M’so proud of you. Took it so well, make me so happy, my little angel. Obsessed with you.” He pecked her between sentences, pausing his thrusts to a halt. Staying inside of her for now, he knew it would hurt when he pulled out. There was no rush, only to make sure she was warm. Based off of both of their sweaty bodies, the chill of the autumn night was more than welcome. 

Pulling back from her lips, he stroked the tears that still fell- albeit at a much slower pace- and cleaned her up the best he could. There was no way to feel clean after sex like that and he knew it would be a nice shower when they got back to his place, but he was still going to do a bit of aftercare here and now. “My baby.” He whispered, voice a little hoarse. “Y’alright? Went a bit more intense than normal.” It was a bit of an understatement, really. Her nod in reply wasn’t good enough for him. “None of that. You know I want your words, precious.” 

“M’good.” She whispered, sounding just as tired and fucked as she looked. “So good, but so tired. Loved that a lot.” She clung to him, her achy arms wrapping around his shoulders as he picked her up off of the hood and carried her to the still open backseat. He apologized profusely, cooing at her as he pulled out, but he needed to clean her up.

“As sexy as it is seeing me dripping from you, can’t have my girl uncomfortable.” his lips pressed against her thigh as he gently wiped her clean with the tissues that were conveniently in the car. “Gonna take you home and we can hop in the shower, hm? Grab some food on the way home?” He grabbed her discarded shorts and slowly began to pull them up her legs. “Know I’m not into fast food but you deserve a treat.” 

Y/N perked up, a sleepy smile on her face as Harry’s nimble fingers adjusted her tank top and grabbed his hoodie from the other side of the backseat to pull over her head. He’d seen the goosebumps on her legs. His thoughtfulness aways did astound her. No one would ever guess he just called her a pretty, dumb little slut. He encased her in a soft bubble of affection as soon as the sex was over and she’d never known anything like it before. Hopefully she wouldn’t have any other partners. As early on as it was, as the days passed she began to become sure that the meeting between them was no coincidence. Her finding this job, applying, and catching the one man’s eye who never hooked up with anyone whilst also not in the market to do so, giving into his flirtations, all of it was fate. There was no other option. Something had pulled her in. 

For something meant to be so scary, it sure ended up being sugary sweet. 

“Sounds good.” She sighed, pulling him closer to kiss his puffy lips again. “Can you just hold me for a minute, though?” That vulnerable feeling was different now, in the shadows of their intense lust. It was floaty and soft and Harry was the anchor that made sure she didn’t fly too far away. 

“Course. M’never going to say no to holding you.” In all honesty, if he could do his work all day with her snuggled in his lap, he would. He never felt the need for personal space around her, and as scary as that had felt at first, he knew now that it was just the feeling of a pairing being right. It was early, some may say too early to tell, but he was pretty sure he’d found the one. 

Someone who saw him as more than Scarred.

[bunniebubbleswrites]

Lil' Killer

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x F! reader A/N: I'm alive and almost done with school. I've never been more excited for something to be over. Word Count: 966 Warnings/Tags: Establised relationship, blood and murder Summary: While travling with Cooper a group of raiders decide that it would be a good idea to attack the both of you

You should have never left the Vault. 

The Overseer was right. The Wasteland is dangerous, the first time you saw a rad-roach you almost spiraled into a panic attack. 

It’s been a few months since then. You’ve lost the Vault suit and sold your Pip-Boy for caps. You had no need for them anymore, they made you too much of a target. 

Only a few months and you’ve lost count of how many people and creatures you killed. The first time was jarring, being a bounty hunter paid well and it was the only thing that kept you on the move, never in one place for too long. If you were constantly on the move, you were safe. 

The sand crunched under your boots and the gun holstered at your hip jangled as you dragged your bounty behind you, of course the fucker wanted the whole body for his own sick reasons. You learned to stop asking questions a long time ago, that was something you learned when you had lived in the Vault. 

You walked up and into the outpost. You dropped the body down in front of the man standing behind the counter. 

“Caps.” You held out your hand, waiting for your payment. 

“We wanted him alive.” You slammed the bounty request down in front of him. 

“Dead or Alive. Caps. Now,” He looked at the paper you had shown him and raised his eyebrow. The man reached down under the counter, but to your surprise, he pulled out a gun. 

You have got to stop trusting people just to give you payment. You reached for your gun and aimed it at the man in front of you. 

“Now, I suggest you  give the lady her payment.” A man’s voice came from behind you, his chest now flush against your back. 

Thank god.

You lowered your gun, as did the man in front of you. He tossed you the pouch full of caps. You re-holstered your gun and tied the pouch to your belt. 

You walked around the man who stood behind you, as soon as you were outside the sound of a gunshot echoed through the air. 

The sound of spurs came from behind you and your shoulders relaxed as Cooper wrapped his arms around your waist. 

“Miss me darlin’?” 

“Very much so.” You leaned back into him, his head resting on your shoulders. 

“You really should be more careful, I thought I drilled that trustin’ instinct out of ya’ ” 

You smiled at him, gently pushing him off you. 

“Let’s get going pretty boy.” He scoffed at the nickname. 

The two of you trekked through The Wasteland, walking towards Filly. 

“What are we looking for Coop?” You asked as you climbed under a bit of rusted metal after him. 

“A man.” 

“What kind of man?” 

“A wanted one.”  At the sharp tone of his words, you knew to stop asking questions. You both continued walking, and bored with the silence you started to hum a little bit. 

Cooper, only a few feet in front of you, stops dead in his tracks. You, feeling safe enough to be distracted, bumped into his back. 

“Cooper? What’s wrong?” He shushes you and reaches for his gun, you in turn, go for yours. A rustling noise came from behind you, you turned around and your back was now flush against Cooper’s. 

You aimed your gun, towards the source of the noise, ready to shoot at any moment. Your eyes darted around, looking for any sign of danger. You could never be too careful in The Wasteland. 

“Well, well, well. What do we have here? A ghoul and a vault dweller.” 

How did they know? You had ditched everything weeks ago. 

The sound of the voice came from behind you, which meant they were in front of Cooper. 

Cooper had his gun aimed at the people in front of him, he was more than capable of taking them on himself. 

“Come on out Vaultie, we won’t hurt ya’ “ You took a deep breath and stood tall, don’t show them you're scared. You came out from behind Cooper, your pistol in hand. 

Another noise from the bush, without taking your eyes off the group of men in front of you, you took your shot, a body falling out from the bush. You let your arm fall to the side, finger still on the trigger. 

“If y’ would kindly, move out of our way,” Cooper gestured with his pistol off to the side. The men didn’t move. If they were looking for a fight, they sure found one. 

You let out a sigh as you reload your pistol. 

Let's get this over with. 

You looked at Cooper with a raised eyebrow. A silent question. 

Can I take the first shot?

He nodded

I don’t see why not

You raised your pistol, smiled at the man, and pulled the trigger. The bullet landing right between his eyes.  The other two men came running at you. You holster your gun and grab the hunting knife, you keep strapped to your thigh. 

A manic expression filled your face. It’s been a long time since you’ve done this. The terror in their eyes, you loved it. 

You ran at them, a terrifying smile graced your lips. You skillfully swung the knife in your hands. You knew exactly where to strike to make them bleed. 

As you swiped your knife across one of the men’s neck, Cooper shot the other. Your white top, stained red and your face and hair covered with the same crimson and brain matter. 

“There you are, lil’ killer.” 

You giggled at the nickname. That’s what The Wasteland does to people, it turns people into killers. 

“To Filly.” 

You both continued to Filly, you had a bounty to find and deliver.

[norrisleclercf1]

pierre and reader who were childhood besties but he cuts ties with her to keep her safe but she gets hurt.

like i imagine they had those pretend weddings and printed out a fake marriage certificate and someone finds it and thinks they are actually married so they hurt the reader.

and pierre flips cus he literally left her to protect her but she still got hurt

A/N: See this is marriage, when you're having a shitty day and your wifey sends me this golden piece

"Will you just grow a pair; we need to find the information." A man hisses, standing in the pitch-black house. They shouldn't be in this house, no one was home, and the owner would not be so forgiving if they found out they were here. "Shut up, you fucker; the only reason we're here is because the boss said so." Creeping down the hallway, they have to be careful.

While this house had no one living in it for a while, they didn't know what type of security it would have. Breaking into the leader of the French Mafia was not brilliant, but they needed something against him. Studying the layout beforehand, they just needed to find the office.

They could use old papers or personal information. Reaching the door, they stopped waiting in case they could hear any ticks or anything to let them know if there were traps. Hearing nothing, they throw their bodies against the door, breaking it.

"Search everywhere." Nodding, the two men go off looking for a picture or a piece of paper with a name on it. One of the men stops, seeing a lock on a drawer. Taking their hammer, they knock it off and stop. "The fuck, he's married?" The other man laughs. "He's not." Reaching in, he pulls out the scrapbook.

"Really? Because this is filled with wedding pictures of him and some chick." Flipping through the pictures, he stares at the young face of Pierre Gasly and some girl in a white dress. "They look young." And they're right. The pictures were taken when you and Pierre were preteens.

It was one of those silly we'll get faked married and then promise to marry each other for real. Pierre was the first boy you loved, like truly loved in an all-consuming way. It was stupid, but you didn't know the future. It didn't realize that Pierre would stop talking to you and drop off the face of the planet. You last spoke years ago but kept the pictures and fake marriage certificates.

Sadly, the two dumbasses now in the office didn't know they were fake; to them, they found the holy grail of breaking Pierre Gasly.

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

"Yes, I'm home." Balancing your phone to your ear as you jam the keys into your apartment door. "Mama, stop. Paris is safe alright, no one followed me, and I'm about to enter my apartment. Please calm down." This was a daily thing, talking down your mother as you walked from work to home.

She hated that you lived in the big city, wishing you stayed home. But Paris has been safe for many years, and it was no worry to you. Walking in, you drop your purse, kick off your shoes, walking to the windows. Your cat, Eclair. The damn cat Pierre got you as a "wedding gift" was still alive. It reminded you of fonder times.

"Mama, I'm safe. It's just me and Eclair here. I'm hanging up." Ending the call, you groan, rubbing the tips of your fingers over Eclair's back. "It's not just you and Eclair here." Gasping, you spin around, coming face to face with a man in a mask. "Tell Pierre we say hello." Raising his arm, something heavy whips across your skull. You didn't even make it to the floor before passing out.

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

The harsh cleaner smell hits you first, then the feeling of your skull splitting open. Noises leave your mouth, and you want to move your arms, but your body is so heavy it's like lead. "Ow." Throat is tight, so dry from no water or talking for a few days.

"Mhmh." Blinding lights have you blinking fast. Eyes adjusted to the darkness, now facing the light worsens the pain. Yet you fight against it, ears ringing, and finally, settle on the beeping to your right. The blurriness fades away as you take in the pristine white of the room.

You're alive.

Eyes float around the room, taking in everything, but a splash of color has your attention. Dirty blonde hair and tan skin against the black outfit have you squint. You don't know anyone who would dress or look like this. Maybe a cop? Waiting for you to wake up to ask about the attack?

"You're awake?" That voice didn't belong to a cop; no, it belonged to someone you haven't seen for what seems like a lifetime. "Pea-Pierre?" You have to stop the slip of the nickname. The body stands as it moves over to your side, leaning over. Those blue eyes, you dream of those blue eyes.

"I'm here, ma femme." You make a noise, something of a laugh, which has him smiling, his fingers hanging off the railing, touching the cloth wrapped around your head. "Don't talk. They did some damage." Something in those soft blue eyes has them hardened in the corners. No one else would notice, but you have stared into those eyes and learned everything about them.

"I want to apologize, but I can't. I left to protect you, yet my leaving left you unprotected in a way I never imagined. They went after you to get to me." Pierre smiles, seeing how your face morphs, wanting to ask questions, yet you can't. "I can't tell you why," Reaching down, he clasps your hand in his, pressing a feather touch of a kiss to them.

"But, when you get out. You're coming with me, then I'll tell you everything. Just sleep." You hate that you can't fight, but sleep is dragging you down, slipping you back into the darkness you've grown accustomed to.

[ethereal-night-fairy]

Heavenly saviour

This short fic was inspired by this artwork.

What if we had a reverse Knight Au where the reader is female knights similar to valkyries in the Thor movies. And Ghost gets to be the pretty prince who's been unfairly kept and tortured only to be saved by his darling. (Tbh I have no idea who's kidnapped ghost but I just want to see him be saved by a female knight)

I know I said female knight but I wrote this as gender neutral to include everyone who wants to play the saviour for ghost.

Prince!Ghost x GN Knight!reader

Masterlist

Words: 1k

Warnings: MDNI, gore, blood, torture, trauma, love at first sight, pining if you squint.

The dungeon is cold, dark and decrepit. The smell of mold and iron was suffocating. But he had no other choice but to breath it. Thankfully the darkness shrouded his mangeled body. Hiding it from his own view for the time being. But the mutilated images persisted in his mind. Simon heaved the air collapsing in his lungs. They had left him hung and from his ribs, red crimson liquid pooling at his feet. The hook so meanly embedded into his tender flesh. He was no better than a pig hung after slaughter. Though his captors weren't as kind to put him out of his misery. He wouldn't be surprised if it was his father who had sold him to these people for some cheap entertainment. The kingdom was on the brink of collapse anyway, the fucker was probably hoarding as much money as he could. Nor him or his brother could do anything to protect anyone from their fathers wrath. He vowed if he got out of here alive he'd do anything in his power to save his people and family from demise.

His muscles screamed from being pulled and stretched unnaturally. His vision blurry from the pain and stray tears. His pale body scarred beyond recognition. Red hot slashes decorating his supple flesh. His breathing becoming laboured as he whispers his mother's name thinking this was the end.

In his delirium he thinks he hears distant screams followed by shouting. Heavy footsteps by the dozen clambered down like thunder over his head. Their boasterous movement rung out through the manor vibrating down to the dungeon. Had someone come save him? Had God sent him a saviour? Had salvation finally come? If he could scream he would have screamed and shouted until his vocal chords tore but he was fatigued and barely able to keep his head up. If this truly was a hallucination he wishes to see his mother caressing his cheek before he passes. If he truly wasn't forsaken, God would grant him this small request before his last breath.

The screams died down, maybe it was all in his head after all. It was hard to tell if anything was real anymore. Maybe he was already dead and this was his purgatory. All he could see was the congealed blood at his feet. The same blood painted his skin an awful shade of red. He heard heavy footsteps descending the stairs. Ones he would often dread. So he waits patiently for whoever had decided to put him out of his misery.

When the crash comes he desperately opens his eyes to look at the broken entrance to the cellar. Trying to figure out if it was a friend or foe. There you stood in all your glory. The light coming from the lit staircase bounced off your armor creating a celestial glow around you. The tears in his eyes caused the light to distort making it look like the heavens had blessed his knight with golden wings.

He watched you walk towards him with confident steps. Your expression ghastly, a bloody sword clutched in your hand. He couldn't quite make out your features; he was too delirious at this point. But you look like an angel; here to enact divine justice. Everything felt fuzzy and shapeless the closer you got. Like he was floating away.

But that changed the second you touched his mutilated skin. You brought him crashing down to reality. Like Icarus plummeting to his demise, the only difference was you were here to catch him. Every nerve ending springs alive to throw him back in the cycle of his never ending pain. Your words are soft and soothing as you try to get him to settle. He wished he could make out your features properly. Wished he could burn your image into his mind. But fresh tears obstructed his view. Gasps and groans spill from his cut face when you pry away the hook that's lodged between his ribs, taking the brunt of his weight.

You lower his body to the ground as you tell you've got him now. That you'll take care of everything from here. He shows you a smile so kind and sweet you wondered how anyone had the heart to harm him. Though It didn't matter anymore they were all dead now. Laying in pools of their own blood when you had chopped them down like the animals they were. You watch the prince go in and out of consciousness as you tie rags to his most open wounds.

“Captain! King Price has sent word! The castle has been captured! All occupants were killed before the arrival of our army. Reports say the previous King went on a murder rampage before fleeing with a small entourage. Prince Simon wasn't found among the dead bodies!”, one of you soldiers comes down to report to you waiting at the entrance of the cellar. Your body obscuring his view of the person you were tending too. You take the handkerchief off on your arm as you go to tie it around the prince's face making sure not to obstruct his ragged breathing in any way.

“Go now tell the King all noble houses have been dealt with…Prince Simon wasn't found among any of the bodies”, the soldier leaves immediately at your words as you lift the Prince's body in your arms. Ready to carry him to safety. You'll report the truth to the King later. But there was no way you'd let this poor prince suffer any more humiliation than he had already experienced.

His brother and mother didn't deserve to die the way they did. And you'd do your utmost to make sure you'll protect the prince, like he had protected you when you were only but a mere peasant. His smile never changed, not even after all the torment he faced. Even though they had tried to carve it out of him; no bruise or scar could ever take away from his radiance.

This was a new era for him. One in which you plan to be his sword. To be his shield, to be his…just his. He could use you however he sees fit. You will stand by him regardless; come hell or high water.

Dividers by @cafekitsune

Copyright © by ethereal-night-fairy. 2024. All Rights Reserved. Writing not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or to use with AI technologies.

[ganondoodle]

tumblr too will sell all user data to A/I fuckers. the toggle is apparently just to tell the techbros i dont want it, they "believe" they will "honor" that, like techbros ever honored anything but money.

sharing my art and connecting with people has been, literally, whats kept me alive through my darkest days.

i do not want it stolen, mangled and used to generate more money for people that already have more money than god.

creative labors of love that we share with people for free, to connect with people, to find joy in art and to bring joy to others, only for it to be ripped from you against your will, stolen, mangled, twisted into an algorythm just so some disgustingly rich guys gain more money.

and you lagerly cant do anything against it, the things you have ever posted anywhere, be it written or drawn, already taken without your consent.

it makes me feel ill.

right now, im questioning my will to be an artist.

to live.

[padfootdaredmetoo]

Hi, I love the way you write and wanted to know if you could write something.

The situation would be that Y/N is from the mafia and Tommy and Y/N hate each other. And in a situation (the one you want) they have to work together to get out alive and then in the end something hot happens .... I would really like to read something so peri I have not found something similar on the platform

I would really appreciate it very much and read it a lot... I love your content

Hey Love,

I really tried to make a plot - I think I sucked at it but i still hope you enjoy it! As always I'm very sorry this took so long. I will try to look over this again in the morning as i'm not 100% confident in my sleep deprived editing skills.

Warnings: Peaky themes, murder, smut, sex, enemies to lovers,

Thomas was becoming more and more tired of London. At first he found it calming, the lights and constant flow of chaos was enough to keep his mind off of Grace.

He sat on the edge of his bed, feeling is age and then some. The damp cold air caused his joints to hurt, and his muscles protested another day. He ran his hands over his face and tried to take a deep breath. He had his family, responsibilities, he couldn't give up now. 

The phone rang and he moved slowly across the room to pick up the receiver.

“Shelby” He said in a low voice. 

“You just waking up now?” A loud voice boomed from the other end. “These Peaky fuckers - I swear-” The man started to grumble and Thomas started to wonder if his responsibilities were really worth all of this. 

“What do you want, Alfie?” He kept his voice calm and smooth, not because he felt that way, but because it annoyed the other man. 

“No way to talk to a friend, innit?” Something exploded near him and Tommy pulled the phone away from his ear. “Fuck, well don’t mind that. Come down as fast as you can. Pack a trunk with something nice to wear.” 

“Why?” Tommy pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“Need you to bring me back something from Frace.” 

“No.” Tommy said flatly. There would never be a good enough reason for him to go anywhere near that place. 

“Look, Beaumont’s are closing in on territory. He’s had some choice words about your family, and son. He wants you to meet him and while your there I want you to pop by a friends place and pick up a package for me. Eh? Don't trust it in the post.” 

“Meeting him in France to negotiate territory in London is stupid.” Why was everything always stupid and unreachable. His temper was starting to boil over and he lit a cigarette knowing it would do nothing to calm his nerves. 

“I don't want you to negotiate with him - if you understand what I’m saying.” Alfie said flatly. 

“And if I dont?” Tommy was gripping the edge of the table hoping to steady himself. 

“Break our alliance and join up with the Ricci and hope she can get the job done.” 

Thomas didn't speak for a moment. He was stuck, give up on months of work in London and hand it all over to the heir of the Ricci family - or go into the depths of hell. 

“Though we had an agreement.” Thomas was clenching his jaw tightly.

“That changed when you pissed off the Irish and the Chinese.” 

“Fuck” He swore under his breath. “Fine.” He hung up the phone to escape Alfie’s content laugh. 

Two train rides. One murder. One package. Then his debt to Alfie was paid and his territory in London was settled. 

He survived France once and he could do it again. 

______________________________________________

Out of all the preparations he made this was his least favorite task. Charlie clung to him and Thomas fought with himself. Part of him wanted more than anything to stay there, part of him needed to stay composed in front of Charlie to avoid scaring him. 

The only consistent part of him was the one that wanted to break down and watch everything burn. He kissed the top of Charlie’s head before gently putting him back on his feet. For a split second he swore there was a look of understanding in Polly’s eyes. 

Tommy boarded the train thinking of John and Arthur’s protests to letting him go alone. The invitation was for one, no need to make them relive the past when he could shoulder it alone. 

Things seemed normal enough. He was happy to be left alone to rot in his compartment. The motion of the train made him want to throw up, but the silence was nice. 

Tap Tap 

There was a soft knock at the door and Thomas hoped that they would asume he was a sleep and leave him be. 

Tap Tap 

As usual he would know no such peace. He opened the sliding door and his stomach gave a hateful lurch. 

You were there looking up at him with your big eyes. 

“Good evening Mr. Shelby.” He hated the way you said his name.

“Evening.” He said coldly. 

“Looks like we were both summoned to this event.” To anyone else this would look like small talk, to him he could see the way your eyes absorbed his every move. 

“Looks like it.” He said in the same unimpressed tone. He wondered why you wanted to move in on what he and Alfie had. He’d shut down multiple Italian families over his time in London. No matter how bloody it got you wouldnt relent. 

“I’ll be in the next compartment in you want some company.” You winked at him and he watched you move down the corridor and disappear into your compartment. 

He shut his door and fixed the curtains back into place. He was going to try and stay sober till he got to his hotel, but seeing your face tore up all his self control. Stupid woman. 

He sipped his whiskey and accepted that he would not sleep until he was home. He could feel the chaotic electricity pulsing inside him, nowhere to go, nothing to fight, stuck in this stupid moving box. 

The night swallowed up the view replacing the countryside with his sickly reflection. He shut the curtains to avoid the corpse glaring back at him. Anxiety rattled through him at the lack of chaos. Normally Polly was chasing charlie around to get him in the bath. John was yelling at him about something going wrong, the words from his mouth coming from Esme’s mind. Arthur was already sick from drinking trying to hide the kindness in his eyes. Chaos. 

His eyes closed. Grace’s face swam into view she was trying to tell him something before she started to scream. His body tensed up and his eyes opened to the yellowing light of the compartment. A loud bang caused him to jump up. He moved into the corridor his feet taking him to your room. 

He flug the door open and without surprise found a large mans body on the floor of your compartment. He shut the door and empathized with your far away gaze. He knew that there was a high chance your hands were dirtier than his and despite his loathing, he felt bad for you. 

“There are no other people on this train.” Your voice was distant and your glassy eyes snapped to his face. 

“Fucking Alfie.” He said under his breath, this was a set up. 

“Won't be him. He told us not to bring anyone with us. If he takes us out he knows my brother will take up my place, as would yours.” 

“The train is supposed to make a stop, if it doesn't we jump when it slows down through the mountains.” He whispered looking around the compartment as if he could tell if it was bugged.

“Then what?” You whispered. 

“We make our way home.” He looked into your eyes and noticed the slightest trace of fear. 

“So you and I then?” You cocked your head to the side staring at him suspiciously. He wondered how you managed to stay alive this long when every thought you had was sprawled across your face. 

He didn't want to respond so he held his hand out to you and your slender hand fit inside his. He shook on it and wondered how badly you would make him regret this in the future. But that was future Tommy's problem. 

You both tore through the train finding nothing suspicious accept for the lack of people. Sitting back in his compartment she turned the radio on and pulled a notebook out of her handbag. 

I think we should stay on till Paris  

He gave you a curt nod of agreement. Then watched you write out your next message. 

Then we kill him 

He nodded again before gesturing to the pen. You handed it over to him and in his less elegant writing he wrote out a message. 

Call for backup once we stop 

There was a strange bit of sparkle in your eye when you looked up at him. You smiled and took the pen back, your warm fingers brushing against his cold hand. 

Not enough time. + I like the idea of it being the two of us

He gave a sarcastic smile and looked at the wall. He looked back at you still staring at him, he wanted to know what your game was. There was no need to flirt with him, and yet you always took the time for an extra bit of banter. It had even cost you a couple of times, and yet you always seemed to enjoy bothering him, even when you lost. 

He finally gave you a slow nod, not breaking eye contact. He watched your pupils flutter open, the pulse in your neck speed up. He wanted this to aggravate him like everything else you did. Instead his blood seemed warmer under his translucent skin. 

Frustrated, he waited for you to break eye contact first. You looked down at your watch, then scribbled down another note. 

One hour 

It was an hour of silence and he enjoyed your presence in the seat next to him. He focused on your breathing and let time do it’s thing. 

Once there everything unraveled very quickly. Antoine Beaumont did not bug the train, nor had he sent more than three men to collect their bodies. They were easy enough to handle.

They showed up at his office. The confusion on his secretaries face was satisfying and Tommy almost jumped as you shot her. His eyes slowly looked to you, your face was dark and set in emotionless mask. 

Tommy didn't think the woman needed to die but without time, he moved into the back room and shot the man. He didn't want to hear the saga, the master plan, or what he wanted so badly in London. 

He was old and tired. He wanted to go home. As he walked out of the building he had already washed his hands of the situation. He would ring Alfie, have him send his men out to deal with the collateral and get his stupid package. 

As he walked down the stairs he heard a pair of heels clattering behind him. 

“When is the next train.” You came close enough to his side that you didn't have to raise your voice above a whisper. He looked down at you hiding his surprise. When he shook on it he figured they meant they were agreeing to murdering that bastard. Their alliance was over, and yet you were looking to him.

“Half hour.” He said raising his hand to flag a cab. He opened the door and watched you elegantly slide across the bench seat. He knew that in this moment he was at a crossroads. He had lots of ways of getting home from France. He could close this door and walk away, see you again at the next conflict. Or he could embrace this adventure knowing full well it would probably hurt him just as bad as Grace. Your gloved hand reached out of the cab to grab his, settling his silent debate. 

He watched as you navigated this situation. He didn't want to give away his position, he wanted you to make a fool of yourself for him. 

You didn't knock on his compartment, you slid the door open and he watched as your eyes analyzed him. He knew from the brightness of your eyes and the glint of pink on your cheeks that you would be the next person to take a piece of his soul. He thought about stopping it. But that sweet comfort only offered by chaos was addictive. 

He held out his hand and you smiled at him. Your hand slipped into his once more and he gilded you up onto his lap. Your red lips were curved into a grin, but your deep eyes were holding back. You opened your mouth, either about to tell him what to do, or to ask about what this was. Tommy didn't feel like embarking on either topic, with one hand on your ass he pulled you even closer. His other hand grabbed the back of your neck. Your lips tasted like red wine and drank in the ecstasy that flowed from them. 

You tasted like life. 

You kissed him back hungrily. You fought him for dominance till he got you desperate enough to submit to him. Your body giving in with a sigh as he gripped one of your breasts. He got your skirt out of the way with little effort and watched as your hands undid his trousers. He moaned as your hands slid along his shaft, your body was so warm. The softness of it was addictive. The weight of you on his lap kept him grounded, he felt held down to the earth. You lined yourself up with the head of his cock. He wasn't ready to let you win. 

His fingers brushed past your naval, trailing down to embrace the warmth of your slick folds. You bucked against his hands and he enjoyed the way your back arched for him. He wanted you to be his, he wanted to see you fall apart. He wanted to give you something so good, you would be ruined. 

He told himself it was revenge. He would leave you here on this bench and walk off this train with a clear mind and restored purpose to drive you out of London. 

When you pressed your forehead against his and let out the softest moan he had ever heard he felt his heart start to thaw. You didn't beg him. You sat on his lap in agony as he pressed into you, savouring the way your body tightened around his fingertips. 

He wished you wouldn't have surrendered to him. That you would have kept your guard up. Instead you fell apart for him so beautifully.

He finally couldn't hold back any longer and pushed up into you. The heaviness of the emotion in your cry caused all common sense to leave him. He held your hips tightly and enjoyed the way you bounced on his lap. You swallowed up every bit of pleasure his body could offer. Eventually your release took him under and he watched, he felt you come apart. 

You fell against him, resting your head against his shoulder while you caught your breath. He caved and held you against his chest. He had blown his cover. He waited for you to take the upper hand, take the victory and walk out of the compartment. 

Instead you stayed there for a long moment. 

“Do you like fettuccine?” You whispered and he considered it for a moment. 

“Yes.” He wasn't sure he had ever had fettuccine, but he liked the way it sounded as it rolled off your tongue. 

“Come home with me and I’ll cook for you.” 

He wanted to laugh, for the first time in so long. 

“Trying to tie me down?” He said with a faint smile. 

“Is it working.” Your eyes were wide and your smile was genuine. He laughed and you kissed his cheek before getting your self straightened out. 

He listened to you ramble quietly, enjoying your accent. You spoke to him like he was a friend, not like he was supposed to do something or fix something. 

__________________________________________

You have him over for dinner and he actually eats. He enjoys it and you take a lot of pride. 

Things are very slow as both of you are secretly waiting for the other to screw the other over, this spans on for months. 

After a few weeks without hearing from him you show up at his house with a bunch of food. He opens the door looking beat up with a little boy standing on the stairs behind him. 

You start cleaning his cuts shouting at him for not asking you for help. Charlie watches you with your makeup and hair, big fur coat, scolding his father and is very curious about you. 

In the kitchen you put the food on the table and find the first aid kit and a fork. You give the fork to Charlie and gesture to the tupperware full of pasta. He snacks while you clean Tommy’s wounds. 

Charlie rests his head on the table after eating his body weight in pasta. “I feel so sleepy” He mumbled and you laughed. “That’s the Italian opium hitting.” You smiled at him and he smiled back. “ Don’t worry about your dad. I’ll carry you up to bed later.” He gave you a nod before passing out. 

“Is there actually opium in that.”  Tommy whispered a sense of genuine anxiety in his tone- you laughed “Just the carbs.” 

You called your men in to handle the situation and talked Tommy down everytime he tried to take control of the situation. 

“Stop it. I’m handling it.” You snapped at him and you realised that he was never not incharge. “Trust me.” You watched the internal battle in his big blue eyes. Knowing he wouldn't rest, you handed him the phone. His brow furrowed slightly and you told him what to say. He gave the order and you sat on his lap watching the tension leave his body 

“You ever going to trust me?” You knew it wasn't fair to ask him this after all the blood he lost. 

“I’m trying.” He looked at you through hooded eyes. 

“Dont make me wait” You said sternly before picking up Charlie. You felt your heart break a little when his fist clung to the collar of your shirt once you placed him in bed. You tucked him in under Tommy’s watchful eye. Then followed him through to his bedroom.

[koisuko]

Imagine:

You save Soap's life after a near death experience, but at what cost?

tw: death, blood, guns, mw3 spoilers, sad shit, violence, angst, gn reader, reader insert

Never has a mission gone this haywire, never have you felt your heart pounding against your chest in rhythm with the beeping of the bomb behind you. The burning hatred for Makarov growing brighter with every tick of the timer, this wild goose chase becoming increasingly more exhausting. What if he gets away again, what if this bomb is just another diversion for a much bigger scheme? Bullets whizzed passed your head, nearly missing you mid peak from over a crate you took cover behind, your hands sweating profusely from beneath your gloves as you took out another Konni solider. "Copy- Bear. Cutting the wire..." the sound of snipping sparked a sudden sense of impending doom, squeezing your eyes shut quickly to await the blast that never came. You glanced over at Soap, the wire cutters firm in his grasp. "Got it! That bought us some time!" he added, his face so calm and focus unbroken. It amazed you how he handled this situation with such grace and stoicism, as if this was just another mission, a daily occurrence for him.

Your comms clicked before Ghost's frantic voice reached your ear piece, "Price, be advised: Makarov is in the chunnel- He's heading your way!" you groaned with frustration, turning to glance at Price as you spoke, "remind me again why we didn't let Soap kill this fucker last time?" Before he could answer, you ducked, hearing the clang of a bullet ricocheting off a metallic surface, "SOAP—! Get your gun up…!" Price ordered over the gunfire, raising his gun to purge the Konni police rapidly approaching. "It'll blow if I let go, Captain! Y/n, cover me!" Your brain went on autopilot, rushing to his side with your gun held high. You took out as many Konni as you could, several bullets imbedding themselves in various objects just inches from you. The bodies of both allied and enemy soldiers began littering the concrete floors of the subway, bullet holes scattered across the walls in all different directions.

With the last Konni police down, Price made haste back to the snake camera while you remained a cover to the two men. "0-7 to Six - We're punching through now!" Ghost conveyed over comms. The beeping became more frantic, causing a peak in anxiety while you kept watch in front. Soap and Price exchanged various key numbers to aid in defusing the bomb, "Copy— good work— This bomb has two fuses! We need to cut both at the same time. Red wire, y/n come help me with this." You nod in response, kneeling beside Soap only to be cut short with a rapid set of footsteps from behind. Before you could turn, your body collided with the cold concrete floor. A sharp burning pain rippled through the flesh of your shoulder.

Even in your pained state, you darted your eyes around to meet Soap. He was on the floor a few feet from you, bleeding from a gunshot to the shoulder, similar to yours. Your attention averted to Price, the rat Makarov stood over him with a gun pointed to his head. “Never bury your enemies alive,” he uttered, a twisted smirk playing on his features that you despise so much. You needed to act fast, pushing yourself off the ground to attempt to potentially save Price’s life. Soap beat you to it, slamming a knife into Makarov’s shoulder with a grunt.

If you were honest, you weren’t even thinking. Everything seemed to have slowed down, as if a bubble formed around the scene for prolonged decision making. Yet, you didn’t even need to decide, your body acting for you in a blind protective instinct. It happened so fast, but so slow, with bits and pieces coming together in a faded memory. Sound seemed to become muffled around you, tunnel vision taking a hold of your sight. You had one goal in mind, one clear whisper in your head egging you on, save him.

Price lay nearly unconscious on the floor, watching the scene unfold helplessly as actions moved faster than his battered mind could comprehend. The gun was poised, aimed at Soap’s head, dangerous pressure on the trigger. This was it, Makarov was going to win, he thought. How could the man he wanted to kill so badly be this close to him, yet still leagues ahead. It all took a turn, when from the sideline came you, slamming yourself into Makarov and successfully knocking Soap to the side, where he collided with a nearby crate. Unfortunately, fate can be cruel, if one does not go, another will take its place. In a sick turn of events, Makarov turns the barrel and pulls the trigger, this time directly through the flesh of your throat. Your body was discarded to the side like a mere doll. “Y/n no!” They both seemed to yell simultaneously, but to you, they were simple whispers.

Ghost and Gaz arrive on the scene a second too late, opening fire at the Konni while a half conscious Soap and Price return to their senses. They both turned to look at your limp form, watching you briefly convulse from the blood spurting out of your neck with each fading pump of your heart. Faint choking sounds could be heard under the gunfire in your desperate attempt to cling to life, to take just one breath, before finally falling silent. Price wasted no time in grabbing his pistol, taking aim at the retreating form of Makarov, only for a train to put a barrier between them. “Bloody hell, y/n!” For the first time, you could hear a subtle crack in Ghost’s voice. Soap was speechless. He lost someone he loved so dearly in a matter of seconds. Kneeling down beside you, he stared at your face. Your once vibrant eyes now a dull lifeless hue, glossed over with a grey tint of vacancy. Those lips he longed for, now held a shade of blue, and your skin becoming a deathly pale. Your face painted in heavy red liquid, your final moments spent drowning in your own blood. The room now emanated a heavy stench of death, so thick it nearly made him gag. “This is all my fault,” he whispered in a voice laced with pure grief. He placed a tender hand on your ice cold cheek, the voices of his comrades blocked out by the overwhelming sorrow inside him. He prayed to take your place, wanting so badly for the claws gripping his heart to relent. Oh god, the agony you must have felt, the burning sensation in your lungs being the last thing you experienced before death took you from him. He couldn’t help but clutch his stomach in hopes to ease the nausea building in his system. Beside the body of his friend, lover, and comrade. Silently, he mourned.

The bomb was diffused, they had once again defeated a grand plan of Makarovs. But at what cost? “All stations - this is Bravo in the blind. Threat neutralized. Bomb is safe…” Price looked down at your body like a father who lost his child, “one KIA.”

—

The team gathered on a cliff overlooking a pristine lake. The sun beginning to set over the horizon, casting a golden ray upon the landscape. The view would be breathtaking, if it weren’t for the reason they had come here. Your favorite spot, they knew it was. From all the stories you told them of this place, of how much it meant to you. You had even planned to take Soap there, take them all there, you promised you would. A promise you would have kept if it weren’t for your untimely death to the hands of your enemy. Even in the afterlife, in your place among the stars, you held no regret for how you died. You saved him, saved the man you loved most, you saved Soap. “They were the best of us,” Price said, his voice low. “The toughest,” Gaz held his hat to his chest in respect, his eyes closed as he listened to the gentle tune of the birds song surrounding them. “They would have fought the world bare handed,” Ghost never once breaking eye contact where the sky meets the mountains. “They had a heart made of gold,” Soap’s voice broke as he spoke, looking up at the sky as if speaking directly to you.

He reached down to his bag, the reason they were here becoming reality. For a second, he held the urn to his chest, taking in a deep breath before holding it in the center of the group. They all collectively placed their hands on the cold metal, before one by one they spoke one last time. First, was Price, “who dares wins..sleep easy soldier,” then Gaz, “see you down range, friend, we’ll take it from here,” and Ghost, “Rest in peace, y/n.” Then, it was Soap’s turn to speak, yet the words caught in his throat. He nearly felt the tears track down his cheeks, pleading so desperately to hold it together and stay strong. Why couldn’t this have just been a fucking nightmare? When will I wake up, he thought. He took a shaky breath, before letting his deepest feelings flow, “I’ll miss ye, my love.”

They watched as the wind carried your ashes, spreading each particle into the water below. Perhaps, the wind will carry your soul with it, to the next life.

[demondamage]

CW: Bomb/suicide bombing

"You kidnapped me to make you these, how the fuck does this surprise you?" Whumpee howled with laughter, arms spread and revealing their pieced together bomb vest. "You should have counted your inventory better!"

It felt- good- powerful- no... EUPHORIC to see the color drain from Whumper's face as they stared back, jaw slacked in shock to the point their own cigarette fell on their lap, burning them out of their daze.

"Whumpee... Let's talk about this..." Whumper slowly started, standing from his seat at the poker table only to stop as Whumpee shook the detonator remote in their hand.

"Move again and I press it."

For once, Whumpee held the high ground, forcing Whumper back into their seat.

"I want every gun on the table." Whumpee commanded, high on the power they held in their hand. "No sudden movements or we are all dead."

Whumper's henchmen stared at their boss a moment, only moving when Whumper gave a small nod. Pistols, bullets, and rifles piled on top of cards and chips no longer needed. Now they gambled in lives.

"You know I can't let you escape." Whumper kept their hands in the air, head turned to stare at Whumpee. "You've seen to much."

"Oh you have made it VERY clear I am not leaving this place alive." Whumpee cackled. "And I've come to terms with that. But now I have the chance to take all of you fuckers with me."

[nicolesainz]

Win until you bleed (CL16)

Charles Leclerc x reader

Warnings: (my pure imagination of charles winning wdc) and a lot of fluff, maybe bad Italian and French translations

I’m so sorry if it’s short. I will repay you :)

“Verstappen’s right on his tail Crofty!” Martin Brundle exclaimed anxiously as we all saw the Red Bull going head to head with the Ferrari.

"There hasn't been a more intense battle for first place for god knows how long. So thrilling!"

Thrilling the viewers and fans say, but everyone at the Ferrari garage, including me, thought this was nail-bitting and extremely cut-throating.

I have witnessed the highs and lows of Charles. Whether from up close or from a small television. From karting victories, to European championships being lost and then being crowned as the F2 champion.

Dnf's and mistakes have come and gone during those six years in Formula one. I have seen him smile a lot, but also cry. Cheer and shout, but also angry and disappointed. A true emotional rollercoaster.

With only 3 laps to go, Max and Charles were separated by just 5 seconds and that gap needed to be kept alive, otherwise, the title battle would come to a disappointing end for Charles. He would have to see Max stand at the top of the podium again, with another championship under his belt.

"Come on Charles! Je t'aime trop pour te perdre" (I love you too much to lose you) I whispered softly, as I prayed for a positive result or for a miracle to happen.

I felt two bodies leaning beside me, only for them to be Isa's and Carlos's. Poor Carlos was unfortunate enough to suffer an engine blow. At the moment, he didn't care about himself. He only wanted Charles to win and bring to Ferrari, what would be the 16th Drivers Championship.

Championship number 16, for the driver carrying number 16.

"He will take it. I have no doubt" Isa tried to calm me down as much as she could. The couple knew how much Charles meant to me. Everyone knows me as his best friend and ultimate supporter, but that figured it out how my love for him, had altered into something bigger.

"Chiudete gli occhi e tra un minuto sarà incoronato campione del mondo." (Close your eyes and in a minute, he will be crowned world champion) Carlos uttered, equally anxious about his teammate, who was having the battle of his life out there.

"And last lap" Xavi, Chalres's race engineer said through the team radio.

Max had managed to close the gap to 3 seconds, inching closer to the car in front of him. To say that I didn't feel like throwing up my guts, would be an understatement. I always am scared whenever Chalres races but this time, I could barely open my eyes to watch the final lap, on the screen of the garage.

"Forza Charles! Puoi fare questo!" (Come on Charles. You can do this) the entire ferrari garage shouted as the last few corners were approaching

"This may be it everyone. Ferrari, after almost two decades, without being crowned champions, will give the Italians tonight, something to remember for a long long time to come" Crofty's voice echoed through my headset, sending a positive wave of energy.

"Y/N, open your eyes. This is it!" Isa and Carlos took my hands in theirs and held them very tight.

"After years of anticipation, the bells will ring again happily in the small village of Maranello. Tifosi, come out of your houses, take out your hats, flags, shirts and wave them. Because tonight, for the first time, after finishing six year in formula one and five years with ferrari, Charles Leclerc is finally, a world champion under the red!"

The screams of happiness almost shook down the garage. Tears of joy were running down my cheeks. The biggest smile was plastered on my face as I ran towards the fence and climbed it as high as possible, alongside with Carlos and the mechanics who were applauding pridefully.

"The fucker did it. He kept his promise and won! You should be proud. Because this, is just the beginning." The Spanish driver, who had managed to clinch P3 in the drivers championship, said whilst yelling for his friend and now world champion teammate.

"Molte congratulazioni Charles. Sei ufficialmente un campione del mondo, sotto il nome di Ferrari. Sei il nostro figliol prodigo. Grazie." (Many congratulations Charles. You are officially, a world champion, under the name of ferrari. You are our prodigal son. Thank you.) Fred said through the team radio, before Carlos asked him to say a few words as well

"Sono più che onorato di essere vostro compagno di squadra e amico. Oggi ci hai reso tutti molto orgogliosi. Che guida straordinaria! Sono senza parole. Goditi questo momento, perché ne stanno per arrivare molti altri. E non presentarti in ritardo sul podio, una donna speciale ti sta aspettando." (I am more than honoured to be your teammate and friend. You made us all very proud today. What an amazing drive! I am speechless. Enjoy this moment, because many more great ones are about to arrive. And don't show up late to the podium, a special lady is waiting for you.)

"Grazie a tutti per il duro lavoro svolto in questa stagione. Non posso essere più grato. Amo tantissimo questa squadra e spero di continuare a rendervi orgogliosi il più possibile. Carlos e Fred, grazie per avermi creduto e dato fiducia. Y/N, sei tutto ciò che potrei mai chiedere a una persona. Tutti vorrebbero averti al proprio fianco, ma anche se sembra meschino, sono felice che tu sia solo mia." (Thank you everyone for the hard work you have put this season. I can't be more grateful. I love this team so much and I hope to keep on making you proud for as much as possible. Carlos and Fred, thank you for believing and trusting me. Y/N, you are all I could ever ask for in a person. Everyone would want to have you by their side, but even if this sounds mean, I am happy that you are only mine.)

“Tu as fait de moi la femme la plus heureuse du monde. Cette nuit est à toi et le championnat aussi. Je suis immensément fier de ce que tu as accompli. Je t'aime plus que les mots ne peuvent le décrire.” (You made me the happiest woman in the world. This night is yours and so is the championship. I am immensely proud of what you have achieved. I love you more than words can describe.)

The view of the podium, is one sight for sore eyes. A true beauty. My best friend, the man I love, standing at the very top. Being crowned world champions means so much to Charles and to me. I get to see him be the happiest version of himself.

When Charles got off the podium, before being wrapped to anyone else’s hug, he ran towards me and fell into my arms.

I’ve never felt my heart pounding so fast. His heavy breathing on my neck gave me tingles, which caused butterflies to crawl into my stomach.

Suddenly, his hands were free so he hugged me back, tighter and sweeter than ever before. He was mumbling something that I couldn’t really understand.

“I have to tell you something, but please, don’t freak out” Charles looked me deeply in the eyes, as if he was about to say something groundbreaking

“You’re scaring me. Are you alright?” I am full of worry and anxiety runs all over my body

“It’s a proposal. I need to ask you a very serious question-“

“Charles if there’s anything I can-“ I don’t even manage to finish my phrase when he blurts out

“Would you want to be my girlfriend? Honestly, there’s no other person I’d like to share my life with more than you. I see you more often than my own siblings and it’s up to the point I call you my family. I love you in all the ways you could possibly think and my heart breaks at the single thought of not having you close to me”

I fought the urge to not jump on him and wrap my body around his so hard, but unfortunately failed. The night became even better than it already was.

“I’d love more than anything else to be your girlfriend. No matter the circumstance, I will always love you Charles. Seeing you smile is my source of happiness and I wouldn’t change it.”

That night, was one, I’d never forget in my life. Nor I ever intend to. It’s the euphoria that keeps me sane and his love that runs in my veins.

[slippinninque]

🖇️Special Directives 💼

You get a sudden promotion

Lloyd Hansen x BlackFemReader

Warnings: MINORS DNI, 18+ cursing, Lloyd being Lloyd, frazzled!reader, power imbalance (boss/assistant), soft!dark!Lloyd, looong fic, mentions of sex, maybe some mistakes (secret-at work-post 🫣)

This was bad. It was really bad.

You followed your boss's every move, barely tasting the orange juice you sipped. It felt like waking up in a mirror-verse with the way Lloyd was carrying on.

You'd think he wouldn't know how to turn on the stove or be willing to use a spatula with how bougie he could be, but he still managed to surprise you in your years-long commitment.

Lloyd caught you trying to sneak out of the suite in nothing but the silk robe you treated yourself to when the jet first touched down.

Lloyd wrestled you into a chair and swapped your robe for his. He kissed the top of your head and resumed making breakfast as if his ass wasn't hanging out from the bottom of a silken cherry-blossom setting.

No issue for him, of course.

No. You had all the issues, as usual, leaving him to focus fully on being a menace to his full capacity. That's literally what Mr. Charmichal told you when he hired you himself to be Lloyd Hansen's personal assistance out of his own staff.

"Whatever you do, just don't fuck him."

Which should an easy feat as the man was 6'foot-something of mayhem and violent tendencies. You made it work.

The pay was more than good for someone with nowhere else to go. You pressed forward with spite. Kept up with impossible demands, managed to be at hand, and whittled down your boundaries to basically nothing.

You asked for nothing more than to do your job. Which included the schedule.

There was lines never to be crossed. Knocking down an exclusive seating arrangement for a last-minute booty call was abhorrent. Even for a professional sociopath.

That one little adjustment sent all your other hard work into the toilet. Consultations, dinner reservations, promised appearances--askew. Some never to appear again for months.

It happened so fast. You were pissed that he had the nerve to even touch his schedule when you finally had everything squared away for the next two weeks.

You touched down in Paris and were ushered into waiting vans. Ride to the base, swanky hotel from what you could peep before you were ushered into the pent house along with your luggage.

You found out about the tampered calendar when you were unpacking and when you called Lloyd, you were sent to voicemail.

Fucking voicemail.

Just when you were about to start blowing his phone up, the fucker appeared at the front door of your suite and asked why hadn't his luggage been unpacked yet.

It got worse when he brushed off your concerns in favor to be an absolute man-child and throwing a tantrum when his date cancelled on him a for strep throat. It explains why he ditched his room for yours.

The anger of being ran ragged in such a beautiful place, being told to make Lloyd a drink as he didn't 'feel like walking down to the bar'. As if you wouldn't spend the rest of the day unpacking you both.

The horniness of being unlaid for nearly 2 years because you just didn't have the time and there was Lloyd talking up under your clothes as if you were trash.

You snapped.

It was one thing to defy and talk back to your boss, he liked that shit. You suspected your mouth is what kept you alive this long, afterall.

It was another to get physical with him.

And lord did ya’ll get physical.

Which brings you back to yourself. What the fuck did you do?

As Lloyd whistled and strutted around the kitchen space, your handy work was visible from there you sat. His normally polished appearance was nowhere to be seen. Hair ruffled and waved, hanging about his face and he didn't seem so....puffed up.

With all that aside, there was Lloyd Hansen barefoot and making you breakfast.

“We need to talk, Mr. Hansen.”

“Oh and we will, Buttercup,” Lloyd purred as he came over a plate heavy with delicious food, “But first, how ‘bout we put something in that sweet little tummy of yours.”

You watched him as he watched you. His eyes were crinkled and blue, sparkling as you took a deep breath.

“I quit.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do—don’t do this. I crossed a line last night, I shouldn't have done that to you."

You gasped when he fluttered your robe, showcasing a nasty bite mark right over his left nipple. A hand reached out but you snatched it back, head reeling as the memory washed over you.

“Play hard to get all you want, too late for shit now.” He grinned wolfishly at you, "You made me all yours."

"That was a mistake!" You blurted before reeling it in at the sight of his brows raising, "All I'm saying, sir, is that this is not a good idea to continue on any further. So...I think it's best for me to, uh..."

Lloyd's tongue poked through his cheek and his stare was steady.

You rolled your eyes down to your food. Fluffy pancakes and stripes of crispy bacon, vibrant cheese eggs and even some chopped fruit. You delicately bit into a juicy strawberry, the sudden taste shocking your stomach into hunger.

“Thank you for breakfast, Mr. Hansen--

Lloyd groaned and leaned back into his chair, “Don’t tell me we’re back to that, sweetcheeks! Call me what you called me last night, won’t you?”

Heat flushed through you but you began cutting into your pancakes to give your hands something to do.

“I called you a lot of things last night, Mr. Hansen. Some more derogatory than others…which only proves my point of this being very inappropriate.”

“My personal favorite was--

“Sir.”

He surprisingly, shut his mouth though the chesire grin remained. You were stunned. Only last week he casually threatened to string you up by the hair when his coffee courier was late.

Now he cooked you pancakes and was...and was…

“What is it exactly that you’re thinking about,” your curiosity ran over your protocol, “Honestly. Nothing like this has never…came up?”

Lloyd tilted his head at you and leaned forward a bit as if to tell you a secret, “Had a little epiphany while I was visiting heaven last night, a moment of realization!”

"Sir--"

"You take such good care of me, don't you? Aside from the boring shit like dry cleaning and dental appointments--now I real a wonderful reason to promote you!"

"A...promotion, sir? For being inappropriate?"

"For that lil' slice of Eden you got squeezed down there! Naughty girl, you're supposed to tell me about all your talents."

You felt your brow pop up before you can stop it.

"What am I being promoted to exactly?"

Lloyd clapped his hands and spread out his arms as if a confetti cannon would follow, "Congrats, baby, you've been promoted to being my lady!"

Silence. You stared at him, your plate, the ceiling and then back to him. Lloyd sat back and crossed his legs as if he were waiting for your celebration. Instead, you rubbed your forehead in an attempt to restart your brain.

"You can't --thats not a thing. That's not a thing, Mr. Hansen."

"Oh, it's a thing alright. A pretty little thing, a soft and tasty thing that I'm not gonna let go of. So, time to lay down some new ground rules."

Too fast, too fast--reel it in...

You held up your hands and gentled your tone, "I'm not your type, Mr. Hansen. So what am I going to do when it gets boring for you? Why spend all that time building your play book with those very beautiful and very qualified ladies?"

Lloyd waved the thought away and appeared a piece of bacon,"Dissolve it. It was gettin' stale anyway."

"Dissol--these ladies are not in a band! They have contacts stronger than concrete! Do you know how long it took me to figure out a fair rotation for them all?"

"Aw, I'm shocked you care! Shouldn't you be happy that you have it all to yourself now?"

"I care about my job, Mr. Hansen. Which is why we shouldn't engage any further if I want to do it correctly."

Lloyd held up a finger to stop you from going further,

"All I'm adding are a few more duties to your ledger, no biggie. Think of them as...special directives. Just a few more ways to properly take care of your old man, that's all..."

You closed your eyes to reign in the thoughts spinning in your head. Lloyd was being serious as he listed a fresh list of ridiculous demands.

He was being 1,000 % serious about you being his. You options cowered in your mind because they all knew they didn't mean shit to the hungry-eyed man before you.

Still, you had to try. As you unfolded and folded your unused lap napkin, you stood slowly from the table.

"Again, very flattered, um. I'm going to submit my little resignation letter thing to Mr. Charmicheal so you won't even have to worry about it..."

Lloyd stood from the table with enough force that the silverware startled. You were caught before you could bolt. Lloyd pulled you to be skin to skin.

"Cut the shit, Sweetcheeks. I'll make it clear for you to understand."

He smooshed your cheeks together and gave you an obnoxious kiss, making you whine.

"I am all you have, Little Ms. Perfect. You made it that way. You injected me in every aspect of your boring little life." He spoke in a familiar tone then, confident if not a little mocking as he looked down at you.

"I see you can't be without me," Lloyd pressed your foreheads together as he took a deep breath, "You think I can allow any men to be around you? They won't know how to handle you. I won't let them to learn."

"Mr. Hansen, please."

"Mmnh. Definitely don't want anyone hearing that from you." Lloyd's kiss was soft to your cheek, unmoving despite your pushing against his chest.

"I won't let them learn how good you smell when you're melted and warm. Or how you cry for it when you don't get your way..."

You squirmed and snapped, "I was sensitive..."

Lloyd sat you back down into your seat and then knelt down, being close enough that your thighs remained parted. He gave a dreamy look to your pussy before looking up at you, taking one of your hands to rub his cheek.

"There it is," he purred, "Underneath all that 'no, Mr. Hansen' and 'what about protocol, Mr. Hansen' is the needy little thing that gnawed me to the bone. Too afraid of having fun..."

He let you snatch your hand away to cover your face, only using his free hands to run fingers across and down your thighs. Oh God, why was it working? His tone, it was too much like the spiced tone he had while neatly folding your legs behind your head.

It made you feel buzzy under your skin. Lloyd hands went from your thighs tapping a lazy beat down to your knees, his eyes skimming the exposed line of skin from your untied robe as he continued listing the new "directives".

You had off days and off hours now. Massages were to be provided once a day, rather the every-other-day routine that was established. You were to provide his stylist with your measurements and be on the watch for a bank card to be used for your upkeep.

By the time he was finished listing all of the changes coming your way, his hands worked you up into a trembling mess.

"I found clarity right here," Lloyd parted the fabric of the robe that covered your pussy and your hands went to his shoulders. Confusion melted with arousal as he stared between your legs. The more he touched you and the more of his voice fell over you, a tone he's never used with you...

It was too late, wasn't it?

The walls were down. Gone. Decimated the moment he touched you. The writing was on the wall, now. Bigger and louder than any flattery that was coming from his mouth.

There was only none thing to do...

"Fine. I accept the position, Mr. Hansen." You tested your luck and put a hand over his mouth when he went to speak. Lloyds eyes flashed, but smiled at you as he waited.

"I have some conditions of my own. I would like a promised transfer to a department of my choice when you get bored."

He rolled his eyes and shook you off, a new wave of energy thrumming as he registered his victory.

"Yeah, sure, fine." He rushed as he readjusted to sit back on his haunches, "Can I have some now?"

Unreal. You snorted, the humor of the situation rearing it's head. The flames were already licking at your feet, why not jump into the whole thing?

Putting your legs on top of his shoulders, your heart hammered as you relaxed fully into the chair. Allowing a nipple to peer out to say hello to her newest, biggest fan as you purred.

"You can if you put the schedule back the way I had it."

Lloyd's expression smoothed and before you could save yourself, you were picked up and spread out on the table. Yelping as a few dishes fell and shattered, you changed your mind and snapped the robe around you tight.

"Wait, slow down!"

Lloyd wrestled with the robe tangled about you and you didn't help, flailing a leg and pushing at him to scoot further up the table. The racket was insane but the thrill of a new deal crawled up your spine.

Maybe it was the lingering hangover or maybe it was the sight of Lloyd in a teeny ooo-wow-wow robe as he hunted for pussy like a madman. Either way, giggles spilled out of you and Lloyd huffed a laugh of his own.

"Keep it up, Chuckles." Lloyd licked his lips as he finally found your center, "I'll have you in stitches when I'm done with you."

"Not every sexy to say, Mr. Hansen, don't like it."

He paused his descent to glower at you, "Getting real sick of that Mr. Hansen shit."

"You'll be Lloyd it's appropriate to be Lloyd." You sniffed, bringing up your legs to bracket around him. His hackles lowered and he hummed, opening your robe to find a beautiful brown center.

His stare was electric, reaching down to part your wettned petals and savoring your mewl.

"You got it all wrong, Sweetcheeks. I'm shootin' for Daddy..."

His smile was downright devilish before he began putting you to work...

-----

Waking to the sound of thunder, you stared up at the ceiling for a while.

You were feeling a bit... better about the arrangement.

Lloyd was still asleep and you took in his slack face. He snored softly in his sleep, fingers twitching every so often where they held onto the thigh you threw across him in your slumber.

Strange. You didn't know he snored.

Your eyes lingered on those lips and recalled the promises and coaxing that fell from them. You bit them cherry red and you can still hear how he moaned under you, pressing your hand into the bite mark on his chest and coming undone.

You'll give it to him, Lloyd was a generous lover. Overly generous if anything, but it was a problem you didn't mind having.

After wriggling free, you went to the bathroom to freshen up and take inventory of the dark-berry hickirs and bruises left in Lloyd's wake.

We're in it now, girl.

Your reflection smiled wryly back. You were done as soon as you accepted a position with Hansen Government Services.

Lloyd was sitting up in bed when you returned, cracking an eye open to give you an appreciative one over before shifting back down into the bed. Had he waited for you to return?

"Order something if you're hungry but right now, it's time to play pillow."

Doing as you were told and going back to bed, you wriggled under him as much as you could before he swept you fully into his arms.

It was still surreal. To have this man hanging off of you and kneading what he could reach like a favored plushie. Beneath the haze of pleasure, your mind wandered to all the ways you could make this work.

"Don't forget, we have brunch in few hours--

You could absolutely spin this. The grin spread across your face as the possibilities of your situation unfurled.

Lloyd hushed you pulled until you were fully beneath him. Back to ceiling watching, you felt him begin to relax. You ran a hand up and down his back, feeling the welts and thinking of the aloe you stashed in your personal care kit.

"Aht, aht, pillows don't talk..."

Sleep waved at the edges of your vision and you felt yourself being pulled down further, as always, right alongside with Mr. Hansen.

-------

ending notes: pheeeeew this was fun and scary to do! I think I need more time to get a hold of my Lloyd, but I'm gonna do more of these!! This one may need an edit, lmao Drop a comment and reblog, tell me what you think and thank you so much for reading!! 🙏🏾😊💝

taglist: @megamindsecretlair @thadelightfulone @mag1calenchantr3ss @cocoeffects @wide-nose-and-wonderful @8ttached @thadelightfulone @hobiesmain @thickeeparker @longpause-awkwardsmile @ms-angiealsina @educatorsareslutstoo @mysterychick93 @sageispunk@hunnishive@notapradagurl7@mcondance@longpause-awkwardsmile@ms-angiealsina@educatorsareslutstoo@miyuhpapayuh@mogul93 @kindofaintrovert@blowmymbackout @mcondance @kindofanenigma@ellethespaceunicorn

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

Thought I’d let you know that the op of the abortion post (pronoun-fucker) is a terf. When I looked at the recommended post it was suggesting a bunch of terf shit and when I check their blog yeah they’re a terf. You don’t have to answer this just thought I’d let you know cuz I reblogged the post without even realising.

Oh, gross. Alright then, let's see...

Cool, okay, so the post was literally just the text of the linked newspaper article, so allow me to recreate it here:

Like many people in Britain, you probably watched with horror the US supreme court’s reversal of Roe v Wade, thinking, “Thank goodness women could never be prosecuted for having an abortion here.” But let me tell you, it already happens here.

Two women are currently awaiting criminal trial in England for abortion-related offences, both facing charges that carry a maximum sentence of life. At least 17 women have been investigated by police over the past eight years for having had abortions.

In Oxford, a 25-year-old mother of one is facing trial for allegedly taking the drug misoprostol – one of the two pills routinely prescribed by doctors to abort a pregnancy. But her baby was born alive and she was subsequently reported to the police. She is being charged under the Offences Against the Person Act, a law passed by parliament in 1861, before the invention of the lightbulb and before women had the right to vote. The law states that a woman must be “kept in penal servitude for life” if she procures an abortion.

Another woman is facing trial after she took abortion pills she obtained from the British Pregnancy Advisory Service (BPAS) by post when rules were relaxed during the pandemic to allow this. She was allegedly 28 weeks pregnant at the time and is facing charges of “child destruction” (note the visceral language) under the Infant Life (Preservation) Act from 1929, which also comes with a maximum life sentence. She could spend the rest of her life in prison.

We so often think that the 1967 Abortion Act legalised abortion. But it did no such thing. It partially decriminalised abortion in England, Scotland and Wales, so long as strict conditions were in place, such as a confirmation from two medical practitioners that the pregnancy had not exceeded 28 weeks (subsequently reduced to 24 weeks in 1990), or that the termination was necessary to prevent injury or mental harm. Any abortion outside these criteria is still a criminal offence.

We know that it is overwhelmingly vulnerable women who are investigated and prosecuted for having abortions. One woman collapsed in the dock when she was sentenced to two and a half years in 2015 for taking tablets she had bought online to induce a miscarriage after the 24-week period of gestation. The court heard that she had “a history of emotional and psychological problems”.

Another woman, a mother of one, ordered pills online to induce an abortion in 2019 after her abusive boyfriend had told her not to go to the doctor. She had believed she was eight to 10 weeks pregnant but after a traumatic miscarriage in her bath tub, where she has described sitting in an inch of blood, she realised her pregnancy had been much further along. She was arrested in her hospital bed and served two years in prison.

These are just some examples of women who have faced trial: there are multiple other women who face gruelling police investigations. In 2021, a 15-year-old girl was investigated for a year after suffering an unexplained stillbirth. Her phone and laptop were confiscated during her GCSE exams, she was self-harming, and the investigation only ended after a coroner concluded that the pregnancy ended due to natural causes. Another woman was arrested in hospital last year and kept in a prison cell for 36 hours after a stillbirth at 24 weeks, and is now suffering PTSD. My question is this: if a woman has had an abortion late in the gestation period, or a traumatic miscarriage or stillbirth, should she go to prison or should she be offered support from medical practitioners at what is clearly a horrendous time, both mentally and physically?

Women in 2022 are being shackled by a 160-year-old law made at a time when we were not even allowed to set foot in the House of Commons. Urgent reform is needed to protect more women from harm, which is why organisations such as BPAS and the Royal College of Obstetricians and Gynaecologists (RCOG) are calling on the director of public prosecutions for England and Wales, Max Hill QC, to drop all charges against these women. The RCOG this month has gone further, calling on ministers to finally legalise abortion. There is absolutely no public interest in sending vulnerable women to prison for terminating pregnancies. Instead, these prosecutions will only serve to put off women seeking help from doctors because they might get arrested, pushing more women into unsafe and underground options.

Meanwhile, according to the criteria of the Abortion Act, a woman has to show that she would suffer grave permanent injury to her mental health if she did not have an abortion after 24 weeks. Why should women still have to pathologise themselves as mad, hysterical, unfit or suffering to legally access healthcare?

The state currently has a triple lock on women’s bodies. By not legalising abortion it has the right to force pregnancy, birth and motherhood upon us. Look to the rules on organ donation: it is illegal to donate people’s organs after they die (however desperately they are needed by people on waiting lists) without their permission. The law at present, which denies women the right to abort a pregnancy on their own terms, is to give us less autonomy than a corpse.

Link | Archived Link

And, just to be clear, while is a situation that is 100% rooted in punishing women for having sex and also primarily affects women, women are NOT the only people affected by it. Trans men and enbies also can get hit by these laws, and we shouldn't forget them.

[kyriethesquishysquid]

Betrayal Never Felt So Good (König/Fem!Reader) Chapter 4

You can find Chapter 1 here, Chapter 2 here, Chapter 3 here, Chapter 5 here, and Chapter 6 here!

Word count: ~6

Rating: Mature

A/N: A bit of a filler chapter but it's adding pertinent info to the story, I promise! Some use of Y/N and Y/L/N. Some smut, feels, and story progression! Reader is still morally grey and morally questionable; a delulu girly, if you will. Reader has trauma that will be expanded upon later. Continued COD and military inaccuracies galore. Brief mentions of our beloved 141!

TW: Smut! Mutual masturbation, exhibitionism/voyeurism, dom/sub tones. Reader reflects a little on her trauma from Daniel. Reader tries to trust people and make new friends! Pet names (in English and German), bad German translations bc I’m STILL a lame monolingual American, and STILL no beta because we die like jackass Graves.

Crappy Translations:

Maus - Mouse

Mein schatz - My darling

Meine leibling - My love

Süßes mädchen- Sweet girl

Scheiße - Shit

Ja, das ist ein gutes Mädchen. Lass mich dich hören - Ja, that’s a good girl. Let me hear you.

Da ist mein wunderschöner Liebling - There is my beautiful love.

You were gonna be sick. You just knew it. Commander Graves’ stare was too much to handle, and yet you knew you had no other choice. The only other option was to give in, condemn both yourself and König to prison or death with the truth, and you refused to do that. You just had to trust in König’s plan, no matter how questionable.

“I’m sure, sir,” you replied, trying to keep your voice from shaking, “The last I saw was him going back into the bar.”

Graves’ tapped his pen on the table, his expression as unreadable as ever, before sitting up in his chair to lean over the desk. His intensity was overwhelming, making your heartbeat loud enough you were almost sure he could hear it too.

“Ya don’t have to be scared here, Y/N. This ain’t an interrogation. I’m just tryin’ ta get the facts about Carter before we call it.”

For the first time since that night, guilt licked the insides of your belly. Deserter. First, you’d allowed König to kill him and hide the body, and now you were willing to let his name be dragged through the mud, to allow his family to hear the worst about him when he wasn’t even alive to fight for himself. Fuck, but the lengths you would go through to protect König, just as he’d been protecting you for the better part of a year. It was honestly terrifying and made you question things about yourself that you’d never thought of before. Were you really as good of a person as you thought you were, as you tried to be, if you were willing to do all of this? Probably not.

“I understand, sir, I just kind of feel like I’ve been called into the principal’s office at school,” you joked quietly.

That brought a little smile to his face. Man, if he weren’t such a toxic fucker, he’d be pretty attractive. Too bad he was a righteous prick.

“That’s fair. Well, thank you for your time, Y/L/N. If I could just get you to sign this document here statin’ that you stand by your statement as the truth and allow for it to be used as necessary for legalities,” he sighed, pushing the paper and pen in your direction.

With a deep breath, you snagged up the pen and signed your name with a flourish. There it was, your deceit finalized in ink for all to see. It was to protect König, not for yourself, you kept repeating in your mind. It’s all for König. Anything for König.

“Am I good to go then, sir?” you asked with a forced smile.

“Actually, I have one more thing for you,” Graves replied, lifting a finger as he opened his desk drawer, “These… are papers of all the tasks I need you to go over with your trainer. After the last… episode, it’s become abundantly clear that you’re in dire need of a refresher course on the basics. Can’t have our best medic dying because she doesn’t know how to protect herself, hmm?”

You had to bite your tongue from giving a sassy reply and instead took the papers with a nod.

Looking over the pages, you asked curiously, “Who’s my trainer?”

“You’ll be workin’ with Private Declan every day, 1700 to 1900 after your normal shift until he feels you are well-equipped for future missions,” he explained, “Not havin’ ya do anythin’ too crazy so it shouldn’t take too long to complete, probably two weeks, give or take.”

Declan. The name sounded familiar. Hopefully he wasn’t one of Daniel’s close friends or things would end up real awkward real quick.

“Got it.”

“You’re dismissed,” Graves commented as he leaned back in his seat.

You couldn’t get back to your room fast enough, eager to be sheltered safe away from Graves’ intimidating stare. As soon as you were in your room, you dug your phone out and sent a quick text to König.

‘Hey love, you free to talk?’

You knew there was a chance he’d be busy or even have possibly been sent out on a mission since this morning, but it didn’t hurt to check. While you waited for his reply, you got changed from your scrubs into a comfortable pair of pajamas. You were debating on if you wanted to go through your rigorous skincare routine or just pass out when your phone started ringing.

Eagerly launching yourself onto the mattress, you quickly slid the green button when you saw König’s name pop up on the screen.

“Hi!” you said, a little too excitedly.

God, way to sound like a loser, Y/N. Could you be more embarrassing?

“Hello, Süßes mädchen.”

Fuck, just hearing his voice over the phone was enough to make your heart flutter. Chewing on your lower lip, you asked him about his day, wanting to start the call on a good note before you told him about Graves’ little meeting. He told you about some of the newest recruits, and how Horangi was talking to a civilian and it was more serious than his past conquests. He sounded like a proud older brother when he talked about Horangi and it was honestly adorable. A big grin was fixed on your face as you listened to his highs and lows, enjoying the shifts in his tone as he rambled for quite some time. It was nice, you realized, having someone to just talk to, even if it wasn’t in person.

“Ah, but enough about my day, how was your, meine liebling?” he asked.

“I enjoy hearing about what you’ve been up to,” you assured him warmly, “You know I love hearing you talk, but uh, my day was good. Got a little rocky at the end.”

“What happened?”

You could hear the instant change in his voice, protective König coming off the sidelines and ready to attack. It made you chuckle.

“Nothing that bad in the long run. Uh, Graves’ finally talked to me about Daniel. Had to sign a legal document backing up my statement. So far it seems everything is going well, but he also decided I need to redo training so I can protect myself better,” you explained.

He let out a little hum before sighing, “I have to agree with him there, maus. As much as I’d rather just be there to protect you, your safety is important.”

Cheeks flushing, you agree quietly. Of course, you’d rather have your big Austrian lover there as your guard but, unfortunately, that was just the way the world was for now. You snuggled farther back into the bed and began telling him about the mysterious case of chlamydia rampaging through the barracks, and all the chaos it was causing. It made you grateful you hadn’t made the choice to sleep with anyone there during the two months you’d not seen König.

“I will never understand the urge some have to fuck anything that moves,” he muttered quietly.

“Me either,” you replied, “Not that I’m innocent by any means. I’m all about people having fun. Hell, I’ve had my fair share of hook-ups, but… at least make sure ya use protection, you know?”

König let out a noise that almost sounded like a growl and you halted your words instantly, concerned by the sudden shift.

“You okay?” you asked tentatively.

“Fine, just don’t like thinking about that,” he sighed darkly, “That others have touched you. They didn’t deserve to have that access to you.”

Before you could stop it, a little giggle escaped, earning a disgruntled huff in reply.

“Don’t worry about it, big guy. If you want, I’ll gladly tell you about how much better you are than anyone I’ve ever been with,” you teased.

There was a soft groan from his side of the line before he retorted, “That doesn't help much.”

You thought about your words carefully, about what might ease that little twinge of jealousy, until finally, it hit. Prey on that possessive nature of his that you loved so much.

Lowering your voice to a seductive whisper, you murmured, “Okay, how about the fact you’re the only man I’ve had sex with without a condom? Also, just remember, love, they may have had me first… but you’re my last.”

Maybe a little stronghanded with the last sentence but you were willing to put your hopes out in the open. Unless something drastic occurred, you couldn’t see not wanting to be with him, and he seemed thoroughly content with you.

“Ah, maus, now that does make it better,” he purred warmly.

Smirking, you replied, “Thought so.”

A familiar warmth coiled low in your belly as you let your thoughts linger on König and just how much better he was than any other lover. It was torture not being allowed to be in his arms. Even without the sexual aspect, you wanted nothing more than to just be in his presence, be allowed to see him, and touch him. Memories of your last night together and his beautiful face created a dangerous combination between your thighs.

“You’re quiet, what’s going on in that pretty head, hmm?” he asked suddenly.

“Ah, um… taxes?” you squeaked out.

You could feel the heat returning to your cheeks as he laughed and you realized you’d been caught daydreaming about him. How were you still so easily flustered by that man when you’d fucked him seven ways from Sunday on multiple occasions now?

“Taxes huh? Must be pretty entertaining if it’s taking your attention off of me,” he teased.

Pursing your lips, you quickly retorted, “Nothing could take my attention off of you, König. You’re practically a permanent fixture in my head now.”

There was a little rumble and you barely made out his quiet “Good” before there was a rustling on his end. Now it was his turn to be oddly quiet.

“What are you doing over there?” you asked curiously.

The deep noise he let out made your heart thump harder.

“Taxes.”

His breathless tone scrambled your brain and it took a moment to comprehend what he meant but once it hit, you felt the niggle of lust in your core ramp up quickly. Clenching your thighs together, you let out a sigh at the slight relief.

“Hmm, do you need help with those taxes?” you mused gently.

His response was a decidedly determined, “Yes!”

“Video chat?”

The line went dead in the next instant, startling and confusing you until you saw the screen light up with the video call request. You could tell your face was flushed dark in the little square that showed your image in the top right and it only made your embarrassment grow.

“Da ist mein wunderschöner, Liebling.”

“Well hello there, handsome” you murmured, unable to stop the grin spreading across your lips.

To your surprise, König was maskless and it made your heart do a little happy dance. He really was one of the most stunning people you’d ever seen. It was a shame he hid it all the time but you also understood his need for privacy with his anxiety and for secrecy.

“You look absolutely beautiful, mein schatz,” he purred quietly.

Warmth quickly filled your cheeks again, his complement reminding you that you were in pajamas with your hair unstyled and only the remnants of the day's makeup on your face. Thankfully, your pajamas weren’t too incredibly bad; a dark grey tanktop with lace along the neckline and matching shorts. It could have been way worse but you also wished you’d had the chance to clean up before he’d seen you.

“Says the male model,” you replied cheekily, “So, wanna show me these taxes I have to help with?”

He let out a snort but suddenly the camera was facing down his body. Your sharp gasp filled the air as he groaned softly. He was already fully hard and leaking, all flushed and beautiful and demanding. Even his massive hand couldn’t cover it completely. God damn.

“I’ve been hard since the moment I heard your voice,” he rumbled softly, “You drive me crazy.”

You watched in awe as he began to stroke his length, throaty little noises filtering through the phone’s speaker like a siren’s song. Setting the phone precariously on your breasts, you quickly shoved your shorts down your legs and kicked them off the end of the bed before picking it back up.

“Need to see you, maus,” he demanded huskily, “Show me what is mine.”

If it were possible, you would have died right then and there from his words.

“Just so you know, I’ve never really done this whole video sex thing before,” you admitted meekly, suddenly nervous by the thought of showing off over the camera.

“And you think I have?” he snickered, “You enjoy seeing me, ja?”

“Of course!”

“Then let me see you too. You know just how much I love your body,” he cajoled sweetly, “Or do I have to punish you for disobedience when I see you next, hmm?”

“No sir!” you gasped.

With a shaky sigh, you switched to the back camera and moved the phone down, ensuring you could still see him at the same time. Your fingers twitched eagerly against your thigh as he let out a low moan.

“Gutes mädchen, now, show me how you tease yourself.”

Excitement brewed to life under the prospect of being controlled from afar and you quickly moved to follow his orders. Your eyes fluttered shut uncontrollably as you traced your fingertips up and down your slit, nearly jumping at the light sensation when goosebumps crawled across your skin. This continued on for only a minute or two before he gave in and told you to slide a finger into your cunt. An uncontrollable whimper escaped as you felt your warm walls clamp down around the digit.

Forcing your eyes open once again, you intentionally began to match your thrusts to the pace of his hand. It was nothing nearly as good as the real thing, but it was close enough and you couldn’t deny the things this interaction was making you feel.

“Gut, gut, that’s it. Show me how wet you are.”

It took a moment to get the angle right but the instant you caught the glistening sheen across your lips and fingers, he halted his hand with a broken groan.

“I would give anything to have my face buried in that pretty little cunt right now,” he growled, “Go on, maus, show me how you make yourself feel good.”

“O-Okay,” you breathed softly.

The awkwardness of touching yourself with an audience was beginning to fade away, lost to pleasure and lust as you watched him. When you finally sunk two fingers into your hole and hooked them up against your g-spot, you nearly saw stars, a weak whimper falling from your lips.

“Ja, das ist ein gutes Mädchen. Lass mich dich hören,” König groaned, “Faster, schatz, keep up with me.”

Eager to obey, you swiftly withdrew your fingers and used the slick to rub your nub. With a finger on either side, you squeezed and rubbed and teased until your legs were shaking with need. Ecstasy swirled rampantly in your belly, growing tighter and tighter with each pass over your clit. It was hard to keep your eyes open but you refused to miss even a second of him. As you got closer and your little noises became harder to control, you could see the chain reaction it had on him, his hips bucking up into each movement as precum spilled over his fist. Oh, and his sounds, the quick smacking and heavy breathing felt like they were connected directly to your core.

“K-König, I’m close,” you warned him weakly.

“Scheiße, heilige scheiße,” he snarled, thighs going tense, “Ja, okay, hold it just a bit longer.”

A debauched whine filled the air and your brows furrowed in frustration. You’d never been good at delaying your climax, too focused on instant gratification, but there was no denying the way his command made your belly twist eagerly. Jesus, what was this man doing to you?

“I know, but I want you to come with me,” he grunted.

The heat was becoming too intense so you instinctively slowed your fingers down to ease the burn, only for him to snap at you to keep going.

“B-But I- please König,” you whimpered needily, “König, bitte, bitte, I-”

The reaction to his native language was immediate, body jolting so hard you nearly expected him to fall off his bed.

“I’m gonna count back from three. At one, I want you to let go, leibling, can you do that for me?” he panted out through moans.

With a little curse, you whined, “Yes, please just- Yes!”

“Drei…”

Fuck, he was doing it in German.

“Zwei…”

He fucking knew what that did to you.

“Eins… Now, now, Kleines!”

A cry of his name escaped in a breathless scream as your body nearly collapsed in on itself at his command, thighs shutting tight around your hand as rutted frantically into your hand. The pleasure coursing through your veins felt like it would drown you but it only got better when he followed suit. You watched in disbelief as ropes of cum shot out and covered his belly and hand, enamored by the way his cock twitched and throbbed as he squeezed out every last drop. Your name heavy on his lips brought that familiar heat back to your face.

“God, fuck,” you whined, jerking your hand away as the sensations became too strong.

A comfortable silence fell over you, only heavy pants breaking the quiet, until you felt rejuvenated enough to roll over and groan.

“Leibling?”

Picking up the phone, you turned it back to the front-facing camera and flashed him a little smile. His eyes were heavy and cheeks still flushed, lips quirked into a smirk as he ran a hand through his hair. How the fuck were you supposed to go the next four months without him?

“I have an embarrassing question,” you murmured after a moment.

He quirked a brow but replied, “Of course, maus, what is it?”

“Would- Would you be okay staying on call with me?” you asked before hastily adding, “Just til I fall asleep! I don’t wanna keep you too late.”

König’s expression turned into something soft.

“Of course but I’ll do better. We’ll stay on all night. Not as good as having you here but it’s better than being without you completely.”

…

“Again!”

Frustration broke through your lips in the form of an annoyed grunt as you punched the hand targets again; right, left, right. You narrowly missed getting hit in the face by the foam target when he swung it at you again. Unfortunately, between your exhaustion and poor balance, you collapsed to the floor with a yelp.

Max let out a honking laugh and you managed to open your eyes just enough to see him bent over, red-faced from laughter. What a jerk.

“Not funny,” you bit out coolly.

“On the contrary, I find it quite funny,” he retorted cheekily, “But, maybe this is a sign we need a break, aye?”

Lifting an eyebrow, you snapped back, “Ya think?! We’ve only been at this for like two hours!”

He shrugged his burly shoulders before settling down onto the ground next to you, handing over your water bottle as he drank from his own. It was a comfortable silence despite your panting, something you were grateful for. It was ironic, considering Max was filling in for Declan who was transferred out after some sketchy shit came up in his files. You couldn’t say you were upset by the change though. Max was the first soldier you’d been able to relatively get along with in months. There was something about his dry humor and easy-going nature that made him likable.

“Tomorrow it’ll be training at the range again. Wanna test you on more long-range options.”

You let your displeasure at the idea be known with the obnoxious long groan you released.

“I’m shit with long range! Just let me focus on getting better at what I’m good at,” you begged, turning to give him your best puppy dog eyes.

He simply stared you down with all the energy of a disappointed father.

“You won’t get good at it if you don’t practice.”

“… And?! I have gifted kid burnout syndrome,” you sighed, “All I want to do is what I’m already good at.”

If looks could kill, you were sure you’d be dead where you lay on the floor. You tossed him back an equally serious glare but within moments you both broke down into laughter.

“Shit, dude, you could kill with those eyes,” Max said, tossing his now-empty bottle aside, “What do ya say? Got ‘nother round in you or we packin’ it up?”

You took inventory of all your sore muscles and bruises before giving a little shrug.

“I’d prefer being able to walk at work tomorrow,” you retorted.

“Rest it is then,” he said as he got to his feet with a long groan.

Following suit, you snagged up your grey hoodie and released your hair from its messy ponytail, double-checking that you still had your phone before heading to the door.

“Hey, wait up a sec!” Max called before the door closed behind you.

You quickly caught it with your foot, trying to ignore the pain of the heavy door nearly crushing your littlest toe.

“Yeeess?”

“A couple of the guys and I are goin’ out to Seven’s tonight, that one bar on Cedar, if you wanna join us?” he asked.

Bile rose in your throat instantaneously as the memories of your last bar experience filled your thoughts- Daniel, the date rape drug, how König killed him in cold blood. Max was nice, respectful even; he hadn’t done anything yet that would make you suspect that he had more than a friendly interest in you, but after Daniel… any man besides König was a terrifying unknown. Apparently, the hesitation was clear on your face because he slapped a heavy hand down on your shoulder, drawing you out of your thoughts.

“No pressure, Y/L/N,” he assured you with a gentle squeeze, “It’d be nice to hang with you without kickin’ your ass though.”

That brought a small smile to your lips. Damn him for being a nice person.

“I appreciate that but, uh, I don’t know many people here that well and-”

“Hey, that’s okay! This’ll be a good chance ta get ta know everyone, and, hey, I’ll be there so you’ll know someone,” he said.

Swallowing hard, you tried to think of a polite way to turn him down but it was impossible with how kind he had been this past week. When your lips parted finally to say no, he lifted up a hand, silencing you instantly.

“If this is about bein’ with a bunch of guys alone, I swear that I’ll protect ya,” he assured you gently, “My mum would have my ass if she knew I didn’t protect a lady, and that’s not even countin’ what’ll happen when Graves gets ahold of me.”

He was making this fucking hard, way harder than it should be. While you were used to being alone, there was no denying how painful it got at times. Especially on the nights when you couldn’t call König and talk to him. Having actual friends might be a nice change of pace.

“You swear?” you asked weakly.

He made an ‘X’ across his heart and said, “Solemnly swear.”

Letting out a sigh, you shifted your jacket farther up your arm before giving him a single nod.

“The instant I don’t feel safe, we’re out, got it?”

“Absolutely! And if anyone gives you trouble, just point me in their direction and they won’t even be a problem. Just consider me your guard dog for the night, yea?”

After agreeing to meet up outside the entrance gates, you scurried back to your room with your thoughts going a million miles an hour. Could you really trust Max? What would happen if you got separated? Would the other soldiers behave? Anxiety whirled through your brain like a tornado, creating more chaos than usual, until you were dressed and checking your reflection. You knew better than to dress in anything too eye-catching this time, settling for a simple black long-sleeved shirt and loose jeans with your work tennis shoes. Even with Max around, shit could happen.

You pulled your hair up into a tidy bun before dragging out your phone and shooting a text to König. He was gone on a mission and didn’t have the ability to answer calls on a whim, but you wanted to keep him updated on your whereabouts… just in case.

‘Hey love! I just wanted to let you know I’m going out to the local bar with some of the guys. My trainer Max, the one I told you about the other day, invited me. He promises he’s going to be my guard dog so I should be safe but I am bringing my pepper spray and self-defense keys too just so you know. No need to worry about me! I’ll text you again once I’m home safe. XO’

Once the text showed as delivered, you turned your ringer all the way up and slid it into your pocket, taking a deep breath for courage before braving the outside. Hopefully, this would be a turning point, a way for you to make friends and have people you could trust again. You shut and locked your door behind you, double-checking it out of cautiousness, then trekked across the base to the meeting point.

There had to be at least twelve to fifteen people gathered outside of the gates when you arrived. Thankfully, there wasn’t a single face you recognized from Daniel’s friend group in the little mass and you let out a relieved sigh before sliding up to Max’s side.

“Hey there! Glad ta see ya made it. Ready to go boys?” Max asked everyone.

A few affirmatives were thrown around before everyone split into separate groups, piling into three different cars. The two that split off with you and Max were chivalrous enough to insist you take the front seat and quickly started up a conversation about Yu-Gi-Oh of all things. Max, surprisingly, joined right in and even tried to involve you in the conversation a few times. It was sweet. By the time you were pulling up at the curb by the bar, somehow the topic had changed to poker and bets on who at the company would have the best poker face.

“I swear, Commander Graves would beat everyone,” you shot back, closing the car door behind you, “Have you been on the wrong side of his wrath yet?!”

“Nah, see, because scary doesn’t equate to a good liar,” Max retorted, “But, if we’re counting outside groups we’ve teamed with, you should see Captain Price. That man has nerves of steel. There’s no way to figure out when he’s bluffing!”

“Oh shit, yeah, haven’t thought about him in a while,” Luke, the younger of the trio shouted.

The chaotic conversation was overpowered by the sound of music, pool tables, and laughter when Max held the door open for you. You quickly slid by and waited right inside, unwilling to chance going more than a few steps away from them.

“Sooo, table first or drinks?” Trevor asked, rocking back and forth on his heels as he looked around the busy bar.

“Drinks. It’s gonna take a hot minute to get anything with that crowd,” Luke replied.

Falling in step beside them, you kept as close to Max as possible, doing your best to ignore the anxiety creeping up in your throat as you tried to decide on a drink. You didn’t want to be a wet blanket but you also weren’t sure about allowing yourself to become inebriated either. Plus with the drugs last time, the idea of alcohol you didn’t pour from the bottle yourself was unappealing. Thankfully, you had a good amount of time to think about it. Luke was correct in his assessment of the crowd. It took almost twenty minutes just to flag the bartender down and order your drinks.

“What’cha gettin’?” Max asked loudly.

You could only shrug in response. Max was nothing but attentive and instantly leaned down to your ear.

“Guard dog, remember? You don’t have to drink but if you do, I’ve got your back!” he reassured you.

“What’s it gonna be, doll?” the young woman across the counter asked blandly.

Shooting him a look that told him exactly how much trust you were putting into him, you smiled timidly at Max then leaned closer to the bartender.

“Just a lemon drop shot and a water please!”

With that, she was gone, and the guys picked back up on their previous discussion concerning the Captain Price they had mentioned, and some guys named Soap, Gaz, and Ghost. Just what the fuck kind of people had those names? Surely that had to be callsigns… right? 'Ghost' fucked with your mind the most. You could only imagine what he had done to earn that name. But Soap? Soap made you giggle. Did anyone take a soldier with that name seriously? You didn’t think you would if you met him.

A few minutes later, you all had your drinks and were headed to a table out on the back patio. It was perfectly cool outside, just a slight chilly breeze blustering about and filling the air with that familiar autumn scent. It was finally starting to feel like October. You sat beside Max and twirled your shot glass in circles, letting your gaze trail over all the different groups outside in the meantime. By twos and threes, the rest of the original clan joined the nearby tables until you were nestled comfortably between them all. You tried to keep up with the conversation but moreso just enjoyed watching them. It was a big group but they all talked together seamlessly. There was no denying the comradery between them and it created a warm, welcoming, feeling in your chest.

Max nudged your arm, pulling your gaze up to him, and you found him staring down at you with one brow lifted.

“You’re okay, right?” he asked.

Flashing him an easy smile, you nodded and replied, “Yeah, I actually am. Hey, uh, thanks for inviting me out.”

He rolled his eyes and waved you off with a scoff, before muttering, “Stop actin’ like it was some act of charity. You may not realize it, but you’re a joy to be around… well, when you’re not bein’ a pain in my ass and tryin’ to shoot me in the foot.”

Eyes widening in disbelief, you backhanded his arm gently.

“That was one time! And it was an accident!” you squeaked, cheeks burning hot.

“Yeah, one time too many,” he snickered back, taking a swig of his beer.

Muttering under your breath about the lack of trust and loyalty he had, you swallowed back the last of your anxiety and finally took the shot in front of you, which was surprisingly delicious.

“If ya need to get up and go anywhere, let me know, I’ll go with ya,” he added after a moment, “I’m on duty til I get ya back to your room.”

You gave him a thankful nod and nursed your water, tuning back into the conversation around you when Luke yelled at Max to defend him.

“What’d I miss?”

“Tell them I’m not actually bad at Mario Kart!” Luke whined, “I lost to Dave once and now he swears he’s better than me at it.”

Yu-Gi-Oh? Mario Kart? How in the fuck were these goofballs the same intimidating soldiers you saw around the barracks?

When Max actually spoke up for Luke, it created a mass of chaos and debates on who was actually better and led to bets for future games. Maybe you’d be lucky enough to join them when they did. It’d been some time since you’d played on more than your Nintendo Switch.

…

“So you’re coming out next time too, right?” Max asked, leaning up against the wall by your door.

“I guess,” you replied with a shrug, “If you guys want me to?”

He narrowed his eyes and bit out, “Noooo. I was asking because I was hoping you’d stay far far away on your lonesome.”

You nudged his ribs gently, trying to quiet your laughter in hopes of not disturbing any of the sleeping soldiers in nearby rooms.

“Shut up. I’m just not used to it is all,” you sighed.

“Well, get used to it, brat. I’m officially naming myself your guard dog older brother,” he retorted, “Now, go get some sleep. Don’t need you dead on your feet at training tomorrow.”

At the reminder of his plans to torture you with sniper training, you deflated against your door with a whine.

“Are you serious?!”

He smirked, patting your shoulder in mock sympathy, before rising to his full height once more.

“Gotta do it, kid. Better to get it done now than have Graves’ on our asses about slacking.”

You couldn’t find fault in his logic but that didn’t mean you liked it any more than you had before. Shooting him an evil glower, you popped your door open and stepped in.

“Night, brat!”

“Yeah, yeah, good night,” you huffed as you slammed the door shut.

Without even bothering to change, you flopped down into your bed and unlocked your phone, checking your notifications. There were a few updates from your social media but the only thing you cared to see were the texts from König.

‘Have fun and be safe. Please make sure you text me once you get home.’ at nine.

‘Leibling? Are you home yet?’ at ten thirty.

‘If I don’t hear from you by 12, I’m not responsible for my actions.’ at eleven thirty.

It was eleven-fifty now. Shit! You weren’t sure what he could do from so far away but you didn’t want to test his capabilities, nor did you want to worry him further. Pulling up his number, you hit call and waited nervously.

“Scheiße! Ich habe mir Sorgen gemacht, Liebling!”

His voice was tense and you instantly felt wilted, guilt filling your chest heavily.

“I’m so sorry, love. I had my ringer on but I didn’t hear any of the texts over the music,” you apologized quickly, “I didn’t mean to worry you, I promise!”

“It’s fine. I’m just glad to hear you safe,” he sighed, “Did you have a good time?”

Lips quirking into a little smile, you replied, “Yeah, it was nice. Would have been better with you there though. Oh, and I think Max has adopted me as his little sister.”

“Little sister, hmm?”

“Yup! He stood guard for me all night. Didn’t let a single person approach me and waited outside the bathroom for me and everything. I don’t know how, but I think he has an idea that something happened in the past,” you explained, “That or he’s just a really good guard dog.”

“That better be all he is,” you heard him grumble softly.

“Calm down, big guy,” you reassured him gently, “Or do I need to remind you why you’re my one and only?”

That got a reaction. The grunt of your name sent your hair on end and pulled a sly smirk to your lips. Yeah, you’d be glad to take the time to show him that you still belonged only to him.

[rierice8]

Hey bestieee

So I think you should write Soukoku just for me bc u love me sm!!! I’ll leave all the details up to u but it must be SMUTTY AF foreplay to the max, and the rest can be whatever your pretty little heart desires

Merci ❤️anon

(Ps did I mention to make it extra smutty)

I THINK I DID YOU DIRTY BESTIE- I PUT A LOOOOT OF PLOT 😭😭

I’m not that good at writing smutty smut and I don’t wanna let down my bestie 😔

But I DO think I did you dirty…

I started writing this on the plane back home…in late August…SO IT'S BEEN A WHILE

Sorry if it feels a little plot heavy or rushed around the end, I…was not very inspired at all…usually an x reader blog but I made an exception for YOU 🫵 anyways let's say this is in celebration that skk isn’t soukover and they’re still alive!

What did you say?

Dom chuuya x sub dazai

Word count: 1876

Warnings: PLOT (scary scary oh no), drinking, drunk sex, name calling (good boy, slut, etc), size kink

Ever since the port mafia and the detective agency called a temporary truce to fight against Fyodor, to Chuuyas misfortune, Dazai has been showing up more and more often. To the point where sometimes Chuuyas afraid to open his room door in the morning since Dazai could easily be standing right there. Dazai has been purposefully trying to provoke Chuuya as much as possible, simply for the sake of being annoying. Leading us up to this evening, where Chuuya gets a knock on his door at a ridiculously late hour.

“What the fuck…who is it?!” Chuuya yelled from the living room as he stood slowly to go answer the door. The person on the other side just kept knocking too, not even stopping after Chuuya had got up to go to the door.

“Ok! Jesus fucking christ, I’m coming!” Chuuya said clearly annoyed as he groggily walked to the door and unlocked it. He didn’t even have to open the door by a centimetre before the door was flung open by who ither than Dazai.

“Chuuuuuya~ I brought wineee!!” Dazai giggled as he closed Chuuya’s door with his foot. Chuuya gave his unexpected visitor a look of sheer disgust.

“And who the fuck said you could come in?? Who invited you? Its fucking 2 in the morning?!” Chuuya yelled, but not loud enough to go through the walls, as he still had respect for his neighbours. Dazai sighed and placed his free hand on his forehead in a theatrically overdramatic way.

“But Chuuuuuyaaaaa!! I went out to buy the most expensive wine I could get just so we could get wasted together and now you're shunning me?!?! I’m going to throw myself off the roof!” Dazai cried. Chuuya all of a sudden was rather interested. Wine?

“Ooh…what kind did you get? Let me see the bottle.” Chuuya snatched the bottle from Dazai’s hand and grimaced.

“Expensive wine my ass, this might as well be from the fucking dollar store. Did you thrift this wine? Cuz I swear this shit is the cheapest thing on the shelf, fucker.” Chuuya put the bottle down on the kitched counter and got two glasses, and his own bottle of wine. Meanwhile Dazai walked to Chuuya’s living room and saw the tv was paused on a cheesy romance movie.

“Chuuya, what kinda garbage do you watch? I know I spent dirt on that wine but your brain must be dirt to think a movie like this is worth watching,” Dazai teased as he turned the tv off and waited for Chuuya to bring the wine and glasses. As Chuuya walked to the living room he scoffed.

“What do you know about romance, dipshit?” Chuuya said as he opened the bottle and poured the glasses. Dazai laughed.

“Surely I know more about romance than you do. At least I’ve had relationships before,” Chuuya scoffed and rolled his eyes at Dazai.

“Oh yeah, “relationships”. All of your relationships lasted a week or less and were toxic as fuck since I bet you’re not even interested in women,” Chuuya smirked as he took a sip of his wine. Dazai reached to grab his glass too, taking a sip and sighing.

“Aw drat! Caught me red handed again Chuuyaaa,” Dazai said sarcastically as he threw his head back dramatically.

“I guess all I’ve ever wanted was some short ginger man to fuck me dumb~” Dazai teased. Chuuya only sighed in response.

“Yeah? Just say that again when I’m a little more drunk and see where it gets you, whore.” Chuuya took another sip of his wine, while watching Dazais face turn from coy to flustered in seconds.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing, now drink up you fucker. By the way this is my own wine, not the dog shit you bought, so every drop you drink is coming out of your pocket,” Chuuya said as he refilled his own glass and went to sit down next to Dazai on the couch. Chuuya grabbed the tv remote and stuck on the movie he was watching before. Dazai laughed and immediately started mocking it

“Oh~~ Alejandro!! Mi amour!! You cannot leave me, wah~~ for look, my legs…they opened automatically!!!” Dazai laughed hysterically as he danced around the room. Chuuya held back a laugh, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.

“Bro just watch the movie. The wine is clearly already fucking with you, whatever happened to “I have a high alcohol tolareance” Dazai?” Chuuya laughed. Dazai looked almost offended as he sat down again and watched the movie.

Both of them were slowly sipping their wine glasses, unknowingly going through at least three each. Dazai lets his head slip onto Chuuyas shoulder…Chuuya runs his hand up Dazais thigh…Dazai whispers filth into Chuuya’s drunken ears...Chuuya lifts Dazai’s face by the chin and stares at him, eyes half lidded.

“What was that you said about wanting to get fucked dumb by me again?”

Dazai’s eyes shot wide open before he settled into a smug look.

“I don’t know~ did I ever even say anything?”

Chuuya scoffed as he lent in so closely to Dazai that they were basically kissing.

“Oh…well thats sad,”

Chuuya smirked as he completely pulled away, leaving Dazai sitting there stupidly with his eyes closed, as if he was waiting for Chuuya to kiss him. His eyes snapped open as Chuuya moved away completely

“Woah woah woah wait!! I was just jokinggg, I said something earlier, what, did you want me to repeat myself? I gladly will!!” Dazai chirped, basically begging.

Chuuya just nodded, waiting to see if Dazai really meant it or if he was just joking.

Dazai then lent in close to Chuuya’s ear, pressing himself against chuuya in the process and he whispered.

“I want you to to fuck me, Chuuya.”

Maybe it was pent up desire, or maybe it was just the wine, or whe way Dazai seemingly begged but either way their lips were pressed together. Dazai parting his lips slightly to leave passage for Chuuyas tongue, yet without breaking the kiss, he also stated moving to straddle Chuuya. Once Dazai found his place on Chuuya’s lap he only took a second long breather before going back to kiss the ginger. Bandaged hands running up under Chuuya’s shirt, almost achning to get the thing off. Slowly breaking the heated kiss, Chuuya moved to gently kissing along Dazais jaw before pulling away fully to look at him. Dazai’s eyes were halflidded and clouded with lust…or maybe just alcohol. Dazai steadied himself with a hand against Chuuya’s chest as Chuuya slowly unbuttoned Dazai’s shirt.

“For fucks sake just take it off already!” Dazai sighed, while Chuuya just smirked.

“You we’re the one begging for me to do with you as I want, now you’re gonna be a good boy and be patient, ok?” Dazai just gulped and nodded. Finally Dazai’s shirt was fully unbuttoned and thrown to the floor, where Chuuya then hurriedly takes his own shirt off. He peppered kisses down Dazai’s chest and started gently biting and sucking on the milky skin. Dazai’s already gasping, and tangling his hands in chuuyas hair.

“Shit...Chuuya” Dazai said as he let his head tip back. Chuuya smiled against his skin as he left little hickeys behind, all the way up to his neck, making sure they can’t be covered. He trailed his hands down Dazais chest before reaching the hem of his pants. Dazai’s breath hitched.

“You good?” Chuuya asked, making sure before moving any further. Dazai just nodded.

Bliss. That's what Dazai could describe it as, maybe if he could think. Chuuyas digits roughly fucking in and out of his ass, his head thrown back in pleasure as Chuuya kept leaving little marks all over his neck, pulling his bandages loose so that he has more access. As Chuuya fingered Dazai loose, he started playing with Dazai’s tip too, who only let out pornographic moans in response.

“Shit Chuuya- Ngh!”

Chuuya kissed him, swallowing all his moans in the heated moment.

“You’re such a slut. Letting me use you like this. You even asked for it, and now you're whining and doing absolutely nothing…what if I put you to work,” Chuuya whispered to Dazai as he stopped all his actions. Dazai whined in response

“N-no why, what? Don’t stop, come onn,”

He grumbled, Chuuya just took off his boxers and beckoned Dazai

“Ride me. Bitch.”

And without hesitation, Dazai climbed on top of Chuuya and lined up his hole with Chuuyas cock, slowly sinking down on it with an ecstatic expression, moans spilling out of the both of them.

“Shit…so deep…”

Dazai said breathlessly as he finally sat down fully. Within seconds Dazai started moving, up and down rhythmically. A small bump forming on his stomach. Chuuya just watches as it gets smaller and bigger again, moving his hand to push down on it before leaning in to Dazai’s neck, leaving kisses trailing up to his ear

“You feel that? Thats how fucking deep my cock is in you.”

Dazai moaned at Chuuya’s words. After bouncing for a while though he started slowing down, whining at the loss of sensation

“Chuuya, I can't…I’m tired…please..”

Chuuya thrust his hips up into Dazai, gipping into his hair and pulling on it.

“Please? Please what? What do you want, slut?”

“Fuck- shit Chuuya! Ngh- I just want you to fuck me already! Please-”

Chuuya then flipped Dazai over on the couch, so he was positioned on top. He then started pounding into Dazai, no remorse. As if it had been his one and only desire for years.

“Ngh- shit! Fuck I’m-”

Dazai was trying to grip the couch fabric as he failed to speak from all the sudden pleasure.

“Shit I’m gonna fucking fill you up,”

Chuuya panted out, slamming in and out of Dazai as he just writhes and moans. Dazai’s hands going to lift his legs up so Chuuya could hit deeper.

“Please do, oh fuck- Shit I’m gonna cum- mnfg!”

Chuuya bit his lip as Dazai clenched around his dick.

“Shit, me too…”

Chuuya moved so he was more so laying flush against Dazai, wanting to feel their skin touching as he uses it as leverage to also thrust harder into Dazai. Chuuya reaches down to stroke Dazai’s dick as he keeps pounding him at the same time.

“Ngh shit!! Fuck fuck I’m, Ah! I’m gonna- Mngh!”

Chuuya bit into Dazai’s collar as he only stroked him faster.

“That’s it, cum for me, good boy.”

And like on cue Dazai came just seconds later, clenching down tight around Chuuya, which only made him get closer to that edge. After a couple of thrusts Chuuya came inside Dazai. Basically collapsing on top of him moments after. Both panting and tired.

“I…never thought you were gonna take my joke seriously…very happy you did though,”

Dazai laughed breathily, Chuuya only laughing a bit in return.

“Any day…any time…I’d be more than willing to take your jokes seriously,”

Dazai’s eyes widened a bit

“Did you know I loved you, Chuuya?”

He said. Chuuya smiled and kissed him sweetly.

“Of course I did, dipshit. I’ve loved you for seven years now. That's seven years too many.”

Chuuya said with a smile, Dazai nodded.

“Yeah…seven years too many indeed…”