#ghosts writing

[shutupheathersorryheatherr]

“Morning, baby"

summery: a short keeho fic about the morning after sleeping together. Centered around his deep voice that he apparently has lol cause I didn’t know about it

warnings/info: suggestive, talking about “the night before” where keeho and reader had sex, gn! Reader, mentions of keehos fingers inside of reader (not specified where lol), it’s basically all centered around keehos deep voice @jasminexox5 sent a clip of to me a little bit ago, kissing, LOTS of kissing, hastily edited

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You rolled over, the comforter slipping down from your shoulders in the process and your eyes fluttering open. You were just in your underwear and a tee shirt, having hastily grabbed the first from the floor next to his bed the night before.

The night before... yes, the night where you both came undone around each other, wrapped in each other. Your hand unconsciously came up to your neck. The part he marked up and kissed the night before. God, his kisses. On your neck, on your stomach, on your thighs. Soft and wet, making you writhe in your place and grip the pillow he gave you for the night

His fingers is what you can't get out of your head next, seeing them next to his head as he lays there looking like an angel. A large contrast to last night when he had them curled and pumping in and out of you. That was one of the many times last night he had you begging for more of him. Those fucking fingers, you mentally scoffed.

At that time you wanted noting more than to have them in your mouth again, sucking on them as a show-- a precursor if you will, to what you wanted to do to him again. Just like last night. Making one beg for the other was each of your kryptonite. Having him where he struggles to keep his hands to himself made you want to remake last night all over again. This time with the morning light streaming in from the cracks in his curtains that made his face have that beautiful glow you loved to see so much.

that was another thing: the beautiful feature that rested perfectly in the middle of his sleeping face. His nose, to you, could not be described by means of words alone. It perfectly captures every word describing something beautiful you could think of. Sat perched tall and proud on his face, like it knew of its worth. You told Keeho a lot about how you thought his nose was so pretty, too. It seemed like you could never stop. Others might think you were overreacting. It was just a nose, right? But once you found another thing about him that made you feel all sorts of ways-- your stomach jumping with the overwhelming need for him to bring you to orgasm, the warm feeling it gave you when he pressed it into your neck while hugging you, the list could go on. But that was something worth rambling about, right?

you You sighed contently. You knew you'd have to wake him up soon. The both of you would have to get your days started sooner or later. But, as always, it seemed like he read your mind before you got the chance to say what you were thinking. His eyes blink open a few times, mimicking you a few moments ago. Or maybe it was an hour ago. Who really cared? He sparked a lot of thoughts, and all his face made you wanna do was look at it some more. You could spare a few more minutes searching and memorizing how his knuckles curved or how his pretty nose twitched in his sleep. In fact, you were sure if your boss knew what he looked like he'd let you off the hook for being late because you spent too much time taking him in and basking in his presence. That was, if you were late. Which could have very well happened if the man didn't open his eyes so soon.

You smiled as he blinked sunlight and sleep out of his eyes, your thoughts of how good he made you feel the night before dissipating from your head entirely and replaced with thoughts of him, him, him. A smirk graced his facial features as he realized you staring at him. "Morning, baby." He said, his voice surprising you. You'd heard it time and time again before, but its contrast to how he usually speaks will never fail to surprise you. It was deep and darker in tone, thicker. resembling dense wood

Well, now you were really definitely wide awake. It seamed to enchant you, flashing images of him in your mind like bright lights. You've thought about him in many ways, but not because of this. He seemed to noticed. Not clearing his throat when he said, "What? you seem a little off. Did you sleep ok?" You nodded, not really trusting yourself to speak, not knowing if you wanted to respond or not. You didn't even want to think of what him talking in that voice again would do to you. You smiled to yourself at your boyfriends antics.

He leans forward, nuzzling his nose into your exposed neck, huffing out a puff of air there. His fingers commence a shiver-up-the-spine-causing dance across your shoulders, rubbing them gently. You sigh into his hair, relaxing again, thinking that maybe he'd just get up. Thinking that maybe, just maybe you were out of the woods that was his thick as tree canopies voice. "Does that feel good, baby?" Keeho asked. That fucker. He knew exaclty what he was doing. You could see it in his eyes. In the way his lips curved up in a way that made your head spin even more.

“hm? You alright? You seem nervous?” He asked, “am I going too hard?” You shook your head. Another wordless answer as his fingertips dancing long your skin, making your hairs raise, and voice thick as slow dripping molasses makes your head spin. "Words, please." He chuckles. And although it's a simple request, thats when you cannot possibly take any more of it. Of him being so fucking-- You don't even know. Was it agrivating you? Or was it simply only turning you on too much then you'd ever thought a voice and a shoulder massage would.

You deemed it to be a mixture of both. Whatever it was, you didn't care. You flip your body around to the man behind you, causing his nimble fingers that you craved to fall off your shoulders and drop to your sides. Not exactly where you wanted them right now, but it'll have to do. They were pretty close to it anyways. Although he smiles, he still seems surprised-- confused, even, by your actions.

"Whoa, baby. What're you--" You could only provide him with a a simple, two word answer. One whispered so quietly even the sun peaking in from between your curtains would've have heard it. Not the extra blanket that had been kicked onto the floor while the both of you were sleeping, not his tee-shirt thrown off in a haste the evening before and then long forgotten. Noting and Nobody. "Want you." You breathed against his lips before diving in. "Now." You pulled apart with a whine, not wanting to leave that beautiful soft feeling of his lips. "That can be aranged." He smiled. Then pulled you against him as he laid down on the sheets, causing you to land on top of him. You sighed contently, feeling that the plushness of his lips swallowing yours whole in a needy kiss as his hands started to roam your body.

End ~~~~~~~~~~~

thank ya'll for reading!! please leave a comment and/or a reblog if you liked this! :) I got the individual pics from Pinterest by the way!

©️2023copywrightforshutupheathersorryheathr

[ghastly-poltergeist]

Take a Break. (Leon Kennedy x James Sunderland)

Heyo people! Hope you're all doing well :3

I have a couple asks in the mailbox which I will get to soon, for now I come bearing fanfiction. I wrote this a while ago and had posted it to AO3, so I thought I would repost it here as well, why not. Errm no warnings for this one I don't think, word count is a little over 2k

Obligatory friend tags (moots if you wanna be added to the tag list just ask): @linminty

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A week had already passed before Leon returned home. Another mission went sour, although he wasn't gone as long as he usually would be. This job was unforgiving, it seeped into your bones and ate away at you until there was nothing left but a husk. Leon was a husk. A husk of a man who once yearned for justice, a man who once was determined enough to take on the world. Now he was a man who barely had enough will to get up in the morning. He felt like a sleeper agent, totally detached from everything around him, the days passing by until he was summoned for whatever he had to do. Like clockwork, almost. The same old process that was wearing down on his tired bones.

But, now he was home, standing in the doorway of his shared apartment as he stared silently into the darkness. It was very late, and the space felt darker than usual, more empty. But it was the same as when he left it, save the few smaller items shifted around. He had owned this large apartment for years, but every time he returned to it, he felt more and more like a stranger. It was clearly lived in, and he of course knew that, but that didn't stop him from feeling like a visitor in the only place he could ever seek comfort. And seek comfort he did. Leon felt the mishaps and inconveniences of the week bear down on him heavily, he wanted to rest. Without second thought, Leon quietly closed the door and dropped his bag, not bothering to change clothes or even shower, he didn't have the energy for that. 'Maybe tomorrow, not tonight.' He thought. Not wanting to waste any more time, he stripped down to nothing but his boxers and the shirt he had underneath his work uniform, sleep weighing at his eyelids. Something deep down told him that he wouldn't get any sleep tonight, but that was okay, he didn't get much sleep anyway. All he wanted right now was rest, and he knew exactly where he was going to get it. Slowly padding his way towards the shared bedroom, Leon contemplated just going to the couch so as to not wake his partner up, but his yearn for comfort enabled him to keep walking- plus, James would probably get upset to find out he slept on the couch. And so, Leon walked up to the door and slowly turned the handle, not wanting to make too much noise. The door creaked at first, but made no further sound as it was opened all the way. Leon peered into the room, and there on the king sized bed was James, seemingly asleep, quietly snoring as his chest gently rose and fell with every breath he took. Leon, for a moment, forgot about everything that went down that week. His mind had cleared and his nerves felt calm for the first time in a while, but only for a moment. He hung his head low as a deep sigh left him; he didn’t want to wake up James. But, although his brain told him to just turn around and go to the couch, his sore body made its way to the bed. James was slightly sprawled out under the covers, and Leon quietly laughed to himself. It was often where they would both wake up practically on top of each other, they’d go to sleep curled up neatly before ending up in a position they weren’t in before. To refrain from waking James, Leon crawled into the bed, not bothering to go under the covers as he laid his exhausted body down, the warmth and comfort almost unfamiliar to him. And, although Leon wished he could hug James, cuddle into his side and listen to his heartbeat as he fell asleep, he opted to simply lay on his side, back facing James as he nuzzled into the soft pillow, feeling exhausted, yet so restless. As he closed his eyes, praying that sleep would come to him, he felt the bed shift, and he internally cursed. ‘Great, I woke him up…’ He thought, “You’re home…”

James was clearly very sleepy, his voice husky and his movements sluggish, but his voice was so full of love. It made Leon’s chest swell, hearing how much James truly missed him, and how happy he was that Leon had returned home. Leon couldn’t help but smile as he felt James wrap his arms around him, pulling him in close, holding him tight. “Yep, I’m home.” Leon responded, leaning back into James and resting his head on his shoulder. “Why didn’t you wake me up?” “You would’ve seen me in the morning, wouldn’t you?” “I haven’t seen you in a week.” Although it was lighthearted, Leon knew his sarcasm didn’t work well on James. He sighed somberly; “I… I just didn’t want to wake you up, Honey.” James didn’t respond, instead he leaned in close, pressing a tender kiss to Leon’s cheek. “Was it bad?” James asked after a moment. “Yeah. Not as bad as usual, but bad enough.”

Leon could tell just by James’ mannerisms that he wasn’t happy to hear that. James let out a deep sigh, holding Leon just a bit tighter in a comforting manner. This is exactly what Leon didn’t want. He didn’t want to have to burden James like this. This was something he’d rather talk about in the morning, not so late at night where he would have James worry. This was something he would rather not talk about at all. He wished he could come home from his job and sleep without having to relieve the horrors of it. He wished he could feel more energetic, wished he wasn’t in constant pain, wished he could spend more time with the man he loved, but it was unfortunately inevitable, and he hated that. Hated that he couldn’t have even a sliver of a normal life, hated that he couldn’t control his life the way he wanted too. The only time in his life that he actually felt like he had control over something was when he was with James. James kept him grounded, reminding Leon that despite everything, there are still people around him who care, people who truly love him. It was a shame that time was so short lived, constantly having to scurry off from one mission to the next after finally getting used to being home, being in a safe space where he wasn’t being hunted down or hunting something. Albeit, it would live with him forever, having James with him made it worth it, he wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Leon pondered for a while before he shifted to face James, cuddling into his chest. He reached for James’ hand and held it with a gentleness he knew they both appreciated, especially with the scars they both shared that littered their hands. “Hey… Don’t worry about it, okay? I’ve been through worse, I'll be fine, James.” "I just think you should take a break, that's all." James replied with some sadness in his voice, but returned the gesture, gently squeezing Leon's hand. "Sweetheart, you know I can't do that. They really need me out there, after all, where else are they going to find someone as strong and capable as me, huh?" Leon smiled up at James, using humor to be dismissive of the situation at hand. He tended to do that a lot, sometimes without even noticing. But even then, it was nothing more than being dismissive, a mechanism used to cope with the merciless requirements of his job, refusing to question his health and other needs, and even more so, not taking into consideration those around him. James was very quick to catch on, however; "Leon." James said firmly, looking Leon dead in the eyes. "I'm being serious. You really need to take a break. It's taking a toll on you, it's been taking a toll on you." "James." Leon mimicked. "I don't want you to worry about me. I'll worry about myself, and-" "That's the problem. You never worry about yourself." James cut Leon off, tired voice filled with anxiousness and minor frustration. "You're always so dismissive, it's hard to even take you seriously sometimes. I know you don't like talking about it, but every time you dismiss it, you're already gone before you even entertain the thought of changing something. Do you know what that's like for me? I worry because I'm afraid one day you won't come home, and… I think about that too often."

It looked like this barely even phased Leon, but it did, he just didn't show it. Deep down it actually felt terrible. This wasn't something that was ever verbalized before. Of course, they've both had their own experiences, witnessing and living through things people would only see in their nightmares. It wasn't a stretch to assume one would be afraid to lose something so close to them, after already losing everything else. Despite everything, James' hold on Leon remained, not faltering in tightness, a comforting grasp. After a moment of deafening silence, James spoke up again, this time more somberly. "... Sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I know it's bad-" "No! No… It's alright!" It was Leon's turn to cut James off. He quickly reassured him, reaching his hands up to gently hold James' face, bringing him in close. "It's okay, James. You don't have to say sorry, I should be the one apologizing. You're right, I'm not… being a good partner." "That's not what I-" "Shh, quiet. I know that's not what you mean, but it's true. I'm not listening to you. I've put you on the back burner and haven't heard you out at all. I've done nothing but worry you more than I actually wanted too. And that's… not what good partners do. So I'm sorry. And y'know what? I promise, I'll talk to someone. I'll talk to Hunnigan, and maybe I can work something out." Leon gently caressed James' face as he spoke, causing James to lean into his touch, smiling. "... You promise?" James mumbled as he nuzzled into Leon's hand, taking it into his own and kissing it. "I promise, sweetheart." Leon replied, genuinely. "Thank you, sweetheart." James answered, sweetly. "Hey now, I'm the one who uses 'sweetheart' here." James giggled quietly, any tension slowly fading away as they got lost in each other's little quips. "You haven't shaved, huh?" Leon commented in a lighthearted manner. "Neither have you." "I haven't been home, what's your excuse?" "I'm forgetful." "Heh, yeah, sure."

They both quietly laughed, continuing their friendly banter until sleep weighed heavy on them. Somehow, like usual, they both ended up in a different position from how they started, Leon almost on top of James as they snuggled together, resting silently. James ran a hand through Leon's messy hair, and placed a kiss on top of his head; "Goodnight, Leon." "Woah, hey. How about a proper kiss?" "I gave you one of those before you left, you can hold out till the morning, can't you?" James mocked, but leaned in closer to Leon anyway. "Yeah yeah, you're so amusing." Leon shook his head before he closed the gap between them. He missed the feeling of having James' lips on his, missing the feeling of being held with such delicacy and passion, missed… James. The kiss was sweet and short, they couldn't hold it for long as they both started to laugh, exhaustion from the night no doubt taking over them. "Okay… goodnight now, Leon." "... Goodnight, James." After such a long, hard, exhausting week full of complications and issues that were out of Leon's ability to solve, he felt calm and comfortable for the first time in a while. He wished he could spend every waking moment like this; curled up next to his loved one underneath a warm blanket, his troubles feeling miles away and the outside world nonexistent. Leon could feel his own heart beating faster than usual, and for once it's not out of fear or adrenaline, but instead out of love.

[theghostadrift]

Small unfinished ficlet about my OC Laetana

[whereserpentswalk]

Reblog to curse your followers and mutuals.

[ghostly-whiskey]

simon riley who you "meet" through a program where you can send care packages to soldiers. you don't think much of it at first, just a simple package with a few necessities and treats. and along with that, a short, but genuine and handwritten letter thanking the unknown soldier to you for their service.

and when you go to retrieve your mail a few weeks later after getting home from work, brows furrowing together as you shuffle through the stack of envelopes.

bill. another bill. advertisement. paycheck. handwritten addressed envelope from 'ghost'.

your brain doesn't even connect the dots until you are inside, fingers gently picking at the envelope until your able to drag a finger through the seal to open it. a simple piece of what looks like notebook paper is pulled from inside. unfolding it, eyes quickly scan the letter to get an idea what it's about.

you've done plenty of care packages before. never did you get a personalized thank you letter back, so, this was a first. the letter starting off by thank you for the package and that he enjoyed the items, especially the "sweet treats". the two words put in quotations as he referred to what you referred to them as in your own letter. your own brain cringing slightly as you remember what you wrote.

again, thank you for all that you do and enjoy the sweet treats!

and while you expected the letter to end after thanking you, it didn't. additional lines asking about you. the sets of questions ranging from asking how long have you been doing the care packages to general questions about yourself. then, at the very end, after signing off as 'ghost', you couldn't help but notice the chicken scratch of handwriting that added:

p.s. you don't need to respond back if you don't want to, just figured it be nice to get something back in return. thanks again.

[suguann]

When you first introduce him, Simon instantly knows that he hates your now ex-boyfriend—especially after he broke up with you only two months into the relationship, and the reason behind it sets his teeth on edge.

You’re perfect and so sweet; how could he—

“He broke up with me because…I um…Do I really have to say it? It’s embarrassing.” 

He bumps his knee into yours because he really fucking sucks at saying the right thing when the moment calls for it. “You don’t have to say anything.”

With a huff, you get a little flustered and glance down into your glass of beer, brows furrowed. “I couldn’t make him fit.” 

It’s so soft, but he hears it as if you’d shouted it across the bar.

The only thought he can think of is that your ex-boyfriend is an idiot once he has your back pressed up against his chest and trembling thighs spread over top of his. Three of his thick fingers already work deep inside of you, filling the room with filthy squelching sounds and your breathy moans.

His thumb carefully drags over your clit, loving how you twitch in his arms. “See? Someone just needed to stretch your little pussy properly, huh?”

“Mhm.” You nod, pressing yourself further into him, thighs butterflying open. “It feels so good.”

“You’re so loose and wet. I bet my cock would slip right in.”

Your walls clench and flutter around him, and it takes everything in him not to toss you onto the bed and fuck you into his sheets. “Simon, can you fuck me? Please?” 

It’s hard to deny you when you ask so sweetly, but he can’t give you what you want—not yet. You whine when he pulls one of his fingers out, but it cuts off into a surprised squeak when he grabs your smaller hand to bring it between your thighs. 

“Put one of your fingers inside your pussy.”

You turn your head to look up at him, kiss-bitten lips pulled into a pout. “But—”

“Come on, love, be good for me.” Teeth nip your jaw as a warning. “I know you can be so good for me.”

Slowly, you ease your finger in beside his with little pants of his name. His cock jumps against your back as he watches your cunt open up to suck in the intrusion—it makes his stomach twist. Simon traps your finger between his and curls them alongside his inside you, tearing a sharp cry from your chest.

“You’re so gorgeous.” His words are raw, rumbling somewhere deep within his chest. “I’m gonna make you feel so good. So full. Better than your boyfriend ever could.”

Masterlist

[elexaria]

simon swore up and down he’d never want kids, he was certain he’d end up just like his old man and he would rather die than let a child grow up how he did. he tells you, “look at the state of me, yeah? not exactly father material, am i? i’m tapped in the head, ‘ts not fair to give a kid any of that.” as he taps his temple with his pointer finger.

years pass, and those words echo in your mind as he holds your chubby baby in his rough hands, one gently splayed on their soft tummy while the other supports their head. he’s gently suspending your baby in the air, mimicking helicopter noises as they squeal and giggle happily. simon has the biggest grin on his face as your 3 year old begs him to let them have a turn as a rileycopter, small hands tugging on his cargo pants with pouty lips.

not exactly father material, simon? you beg to differ.

[imagine-shenanigans]

thinking about you going up to three broad shouldered men in a bar because your crazy ex/some random creep/etc is following you and you beg them to pretend they know you. You slide into the empty space at the table theyve commandeered and right as the other guy comes up a scary looking big motherfucker with a balaclava and eyeblack slots himself right in next to you. You press yourself into his side when the creep comes up and you call Ghost your boyfriend, and Ghost (as you later learn to call him) grabs your hip possessively, tucking you in closer.

He doesn't let you go, later, when the creep fucks off. Instead, he slips your phone out of your pocket and puts his contact inside. Texts himself and slips it back into your pocket while making eye contact. Blows smoke in your face and snorts when you wave it away, huffing at him and sticking your cute little tongue out at him.

You have fun with the military men that night, Ghost even walks you home to feel safe. You wake up the next day, happy to be safe and sound, and go about your day. Forget all about Ghost for awhile, because he never texts you first.

Weeks later, youre in the middle of your kitchen when he walks in, a copy of your key in his hand. Slots himself in behind you and rests his chin on your head even when you panic and claw at him.

What? He's home now, came home to you, his partner. Just like you wanted, right? You wanted him, now you've got him.

[shutupheathersorryheatherr]

"I think youre like, super duper cool-- a morning with Kai”

Summery: a snippet in time for the two of you, though something like this happens too often to count. A soft and fluffy but fortifying morning with him to remember that all started with him fiddling with the straps and hems of your shirt… speaking of night clothes… there might be a surprise for him waiting underneath

A/N: um so this was supposed to have been out like an eternity ago but life has really been killing me lately so I apologize. Writing is good though and I really love it. I say this every time I post a fic but I’m not sure how good this is :( I originally wanted kai to eat out the reader in this fix but alas, I did not get to it

Warngingz/info: kissing, morning sex, unestablished relationship, like you can take it however you want in this, fingering, hanjob, reacher is gn! other than having a vagina, reader kisses Kai’s freckles/moles, Kai is pussy drunk? idk maybe he is in this, kai asks you to put just the tip in, kai loves the readers tummy thats pretty evident in this fic, spelling mistakes I'll get to them eventually.... think thats it but (it just autocorrected me to 'nut'....) I think thats it! please feel free to let me know if there's anything else!

~this is simply a piece of fiction. My imagination onto “paper.” This is in no way is mean to be taken as an actual and real representation of anyone.~

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THIS IS SMUT! PLEASE HAVE AN AGE INDICATOR IN YOUR BLOG SAYING YOU ARE NOT A MINOR IF YOU ARENT OR ELSE I WILL BE BLOCKING YOU!!!!

The sun hits the front of your lidded eyes, burning them, but wanting, and now apparently waking you up at the same time. Kai shifts behind you, little puffs of breathing out tickling your neck. You finally open your eyes to look where at the state of the man currently latched onto your back. You feel him fiddling with the straps of your tank top absentmindedly, fingers ever so often brushing against your newly exposed skin.

Your desire to nod back off quickly fades when he takes a long breath-- something he always does when he wakes. Now, too excited to ask him in a moment if he's had any dreams, your sleepiness fades into just being calm with him. He circles his arms around your tummy, the pads of his soft and nearly hot with blush and toasty from just returned to the land of the living. it was weird... but something he always took notice of; the way all of his best sleeps were always with you. it wasn't like he couldn't sleep on his own, but when he did he woke up feeling as tired as he was when he laid down, or like they just didnt hit the same way as when he was with you

like he was now, with one of his arms falling asleep with you laying on top of it. but really, he wouldn't want it any other way. You put your hands over his, grasping them tightly almost in an awkward handshake. "So no good morning? no hi, how are you? just trying to brake my hand I see." His voice is groggy, raspy, coming from the back of his throat. You chuckle, and he feels like the sleep instantly is gone from his eyes.

"I was obviously helping you!" You protest, "I was giving feeling back into your arms."

"Why both of my arms then, huh?" his voice lowers, getting suspicious. "I have to show love to each of them." "By breaking them...?" You can feel his eyebrow raise. "mmhm." you say definitely. "Oh, very nice of you then." he snickers

He kneads your tummy gently. the soft skin on his making the both of you break a smile. Only for a moment though, until you feel coolness envelope you instead of warmth as before. Cause now he's getting up, blanket wrapped around his entire body and running to the other side of the bed. he flops down next to you, facing you and making the blanket billow around him like a cape. Now youre both engulfed in it. light from the curtains casting a glow on each of your faces through the blanket. "What? You were pushing me off the bed." You inch closer to him. "Oh, so it was that then, not you wanting to cuddle with me?" he nuzzles his face not your neck, hands already traveling to their rightful place where your hips and waist/ tummy meet. big hands warm you as he speaks into your neck: "mmhm, yeah that, and.... " he draws out the article, though you know what and was going to say and he does "I wanted to see you."

"reasonable." you smile.

"Really?" his smirk is coming through his lips, teeth, and mouth and his voice drips with it. And right now, youre not sure how to deal with it as youre drawn closer and closer to him like a magnetic pull is the only thing that's controlling you. Once youre close enough to feel each others rapid heart beats and close enough where if you just inched in... just a little bit, your lips would be on his neck and you could feel his pulse. you finally speak, "yeah, of course you did. I don't know if youve noticed but im like, pretty amazing." his tongue darts out to lick his lips and smiles. he starts rubbing at your skin again. well, more like brushing it, making you suppress some sort of laugh because its starting to tickle but still.

"Ive noticed, though!" he protests, face still in your neck, voice gentle because of your proximity. "am I that predictable?" you shake your head yes. (he does this almost every morning that you two wake up like this.)

"Im not accusing you--" "yeah yeah, I know but" he straightens his back, looking at you in the eyes now. "what if I happen to think that youre like... super duper cool?" a wide smile creeps onto his face, his eyes crinkling and his cheeks swell as he says the last few words. he draws in a short breath and continues: "and nice, and beautiful, and wonderful. and a whole lotta other things I know anyone who spends a bunch of time with you and who you know..." he cocks his head from side to side, thinking about how he was going to word what he wanted to convey. "...know about you, but I don't really know how to express right now."

You laugh with him. something similar to thing happens a lot between the two of you-- him wanting, no, needing to tell you how he knows how amazing you are, but either not being able to express himself or tripping over his own words. you barely ever paid any mind to it, though. and not in a "its the thought that counts" type of way, either. you might've not fully understood what he was trying to say, but the way he gazed into your eyes, brightness filling them, then looks away, then back at you, rose pigment in his face now.... god, did that tell you all you needed to know.

"hm," you hum, "I think youre supper duper cool too." he raises his head to place a quick peck on your lips. you would've kissed him back if he'd just give you a second. A moment of silence later and it leads to him pressing, almost poking his nose against your previously cold but now warm with the heat crawling into your face and he doubles down on his statement. "Im serious though--" you chuckle even though you can hear the weight in his tone. "So am I." and youre just as serious as him. you mouth a thank you nonetheless. "I-I'm serious though, I don't think anyone in their right mind could miss how amazing you are."

Two things, about this interaction: one,) you can joke about it all you want but, he thinks, you really are perfect. and two) no matter what he says about it, you really do think its cute how he's stumbling over his words. "Glad we're on the same page."

All the while you two have been talking, his hands are moving mere fractions of an inch up and down, up and down, down and-- now hes rubbing almost tickling circles right next to your navel. each stroke of your torso getting longer and longer. you fiddle with the waistband of his boxers until he goes far down enough to notice youre not wearing any underwear. the schooled look on his face makes you laugh as you both emerge from the little makeshift blanket fort you two have stretched over the beautiful expanse of his shoulders.

"oh, im sorry." he bites the inside of his cheek nervously and gulps, raises his hands off you. "what'r you sorry for? I thought you wanted to..." you move his hand back to where it was on the top of your ass. "touch me here?" "well I did-- I do." he corrects himself, but he keeps on rambling. "I just wasn't expecting-- and I dunno if you wanted to since-- oh, what?" He suddenly breaks a smile, his nervousness fading away when he sees you silently chuckling at him. "thisis making your brain short circuit is see. hm, I should let you know when im sleeping without them more often, don't you think?" his eyes go wide again. "you mean you do this frequently and I just don't know?" he leans back a little, eyes darting around, seemingly genuinely pondering this.

Your hands hover over his chest, warmth radiating off you onto his skin. he gently squeezes your ass and your back stiffens, chill going up your spine. "I can't find the words so" he draws out the last word, trailing off, "can I?" he dips his eyes to where the hem of your oversized T-shirt, (already bunched up in the back from him kneading your ass,) hits your upper thighs.

He drags the fabric up and you have half a mind to tell him to get on with it already. and what feels like forever later, hes dipping his thump into his mouth, wetting it with his salivating tongue. then he brings it down to your clit. he starts rubbing at it, warm air surrounding the small bud because of how deep you are under the covers. An electric shock runs up and back down your spine at the contact he makes with now two of his fingers pressing right were youre aching for him. "oh--" you cut your own self off knowing that what;; come our of you will only be incoherent mess.

You can't see what hes doing, he can't either and although that worrying him a little bit its making the experience that much more heightened for the both of you. this way, you can stare lovingly into his eyes and see the little movements his mouth makes, slightly opening here and there, when he gains a beautiful reaction out of you or he gets a little overwhelmed at the feeling of your warm and wet pussy on his fingers. and this way he can focus on all the sounds you make, wishing to bottle up the sound and get drunk on all your moans and hisses of pleasure.

You might not be able to see, but fuck, you sure can hear and feel. as he switches from rubbing at your clit and dripping hole to finger fucking you at that pace that drives you insane, the lewd sounds youre making together is fucking perfect--- music to your ears, even. its wet and mess, hes sloppy and almost desperate for the sighs of pleasure you make, or for that look in your eyes that lets him know youre about to be in the throws of ecstasy around his fingers... cumming for him. all for him. and all because of him. the groans aloud at the thought-- him being the(only) one making you feel this good, him brining you to your high so damn well. and he knows its selfish but a part of him wants to make you cum so good and so often that youre ruined for anyone else. so that the only fingers besides your own that you know could make you feel this good are his. the only tongue good enough for you? his.

it was like his cock and your cunt were made for each other... and that made him shiver in pleasure at the thought. you didnt miss the way he was like this, though. the way his pupils dilated and his jaw clenched at times like these were a tell tale sign.

Hes sloppy with his movements a bit but has just how you two like it. so wonderful he swears that if he could, he'd encapsulate the sounds and feelings that come from this and you and stuff himself full with it to delirium everyday. And if you could, you’d surely do the same. Especially with his grunts and whimpers. God you loved those.

His fingers were already fucking so deep inside you, like you could feel his fingers curl, almost, it feels like in your fucking guts. then, you think, imagine how otherworldly his rock hard cock would be. You can feel him grazing it up and down your thigh, trying not to make it too obvious but grinding his hard on into your plush skin none the les. He occasionally bumps into his own arm the more time goes on and the more desperate he’s getting with his movements. You bring the thigh he’s doing this to up a little further as he thrusts his fingers in and out of your pussy, you’re slick forming a thick ring around the base of his fingers, dripping deliciously onto his hand.

he breathes out a grunt, barely audible to either of you. And that’s when you couldn’t take it anymore. You tug at the waist and of his boxers, his warm abdomen on your knuckles. You look up at him and before you can get the words out he’s already begging “yeah— you can. Please—“ his words come out choppy, up and down in volume but you don't care. You slip them down, too wrapped up in him touching you and you about to touch him that you don’t get them any further than his thighs. The same thighs you have dreams about— dragging yourself on them till you cum with his big hands digging into your hips, sucking hickies on them as he lets out little sighs and as his hands don’t know where to go, the list goes on.

All you wanted was him a close to you as humanly possible, with your hand gripping the full weight of him and your thumb rubbing over, almost teasing his sensitive, leaking tip. You use your spit that's mixing with his precum to let you slide up and down the length of him. He rocks into your hand, same as you to his, trying to find release. And you start to get annoyed even though at this point hes flattened out his hand, your juices oozing out onto it as his palm rubs circles onto your clit.

His fingers are starting to go slower, and deeper if that was humanly possible. but thats not why you were getting annoyed-- kai, even with how he prettily threw his head back with an open mouth in pleasure and then forward again, grunting almost into your collarbone, the rest of him wasn't staying still. he was wriggling and writhing, uncoordinated thrusts into your hand and his have breathing make you lean in for a kiss and surprisingly your teeth don't clang together.

hes still moving around too much and you realize it'd be nearly impossible to get him to cum like this. So you bring you hand off him, ignoring, just for a moment, his whines in protest, chasing after your palm like how you just chased after his lips. You gently snap the elastic waistband against his abdomen as a reminder to calm down-- to get him focused again

At this point, the two of you are halfway sitting up and halfway laying down. Not the most comfortable position but you barely care as you can feel the beautiful pit in your stomach growing and he brings you closer to sweet relief. your mouth goes agape as he rubs you a little faster. You clench around his fingers and all he can think about is how tight you'd feel around him, creaming on his cock. Youre no better, though. with your thoughts of how big you'd know he'd be inside you, because lets be honest here, its not the laying on your side facing him thats making it hard to pump his dick.

You run your thumb along the vein on the underside of his cock and his legs still then quake. Your back arches into his touch. it's all getting too much for you-- you and him pleasuring the other with your hands at the same pace. and as your eyes flutter close because fuck, that face hes making is gonna make you cum if you keep on staring at it, you can feel it. almost like hes fucking into you for real; doesn't help that hes so close to your thighs either.

"I wan' you to cum for me. I love to hear you and feel you and--"

maybe hes rambling, but its cute none the less and that makes you regain full feeling and conciseness, now being able to will your hand to glide over his slippery cock faster, You feel yourself being tipped over the edge.

Your toes curl, his heart rate jumps as you let go of his dick, brining your hand to his wrist to hold him right where you need him. you couldn't focus on anything else at the moment, you felt like he was bringing your body to heaven-- like you were fucking ascending. His lips were on yours in a flash, kissing you like it was his last as you continue humping his palm to ease through your orgasm.

You cum with a muffled curse into his chest as you fall perfectly into him. you really are made for each other, huh?

"God, you look so beautiful when you cum. your face is buried in his collarbone and your hands-- they're gonna be the death of him tonight, hes sure of it. one's rubbing slow petel-in-the-breeze-soft circles on in wrist, and the other is over his heartbeat on his chest. it wasn't anything even that sexual if his dick wasn't out and his fingers weren't soiled with your cum.

you sink yourself deeper into his neck and chuckle. "Im guessing so beautiful that you dont even notice how I dropped your dick?" you blink at him, your lashes tickling his sensitive skin.

He can't even respond before youre kissing the mole on his neck, sucking a small mark there as he lets out little "ah-ah~" next to your ear, before moving up to the one on his jaw... then the one on the other side... then the next, and then next all while watching the little red mark on his neck fade until finally youre at the beginning of his chest. and now your hand his back on him and he feels like hes gonna actually die.

how did he deal with this before? maybe its the way the sheets smell all fresh and comforting, or the way his eyes are still drowsy with sleep and the perfect golden hour light hitting and warming the room just right, or maybe the way you were just around his fingers a moment ago... but whatever it was, he felt his release rapidly approaching.

You kiss him to swallow up the sounds hes making, knowing how his tip bumping against you, nearly tapping your pussy but catching your thighs, wet with your own cum and dampened with sweat is getting to be too much for him just as it was like for you a bit ago. he craved this maybe a little bit too much; your bodies melting together, becoming one. and he really can't hold it in anymore.

"I need-- just the tip, ok? I need to feel you around me. jus' the tip, thats all" his voice comes out with labored breathing and thats all you need to hear, sliding his tip in between your dripping folds. your hand stroking what you can't fit and dipping his head in and out of your hole. not much, just enough to get him addicted to the feeling. at this point hes doing most of the work for you; moving so that his cock slides up and down your cunt, and youre revealing in it as much as you are. with him smoothing over and rubbing your clit, giving you the satisfaction of some much needed friction and the beautiful full feeling of his cock-- even just a little bit is driving you crazy. and the overwhelming want to shove all of him into you, stuffing you full on him? otherworldly. making you have to physically stop yourself from fulfilling your want, no, need, to have him fully inside.

and the way your teeth poke out of your mouth as it opens in pleasure? he feels like hes basking, wishing to drown himself in your pussy. he kisses you urgently, like fire surges through him, pouring himself and his emotions out for you, spilling himself all over your hand as your slow down your strokes, dick throbbing in your hand. your pussy convulsing around noting as he comes down from his high.

The both of your breathing slows, his whines and grunts of pleasure turn into a smile as he looks into your eyes. he reaches over to the nightstand, effectively putting his chest in your face. He plops back down a second later with a couple tissues and grabs your wrist from under the blanket still and does his best to clean it off.

Its silent as he does this, but the good kind. not awkward or dead. but comfortable like it always is with him. it wasn't until then that the both of you realized how much he came. Yeah... he was gonna need another tissue. You peck his lips at the thought and sight but he starts to wonder how the fuck that happened. You really do do wonders to him, he thinks.

He finishes cleaning his own hand next then balls up the tissues before throwing them on the floor. they could be worried about later. he brings you close to him, all he ever wanted, really; to be close enough that his heartbeat syncs with yours and that he smell the sex coming off you... feel the warmth of your skin on his.

His hands find their rightful places at your hips and tummy. Youre almost nodding off again when--

"oh I forgot to ask you!" you nearly shriek at him "did you have any dreams?" the knowing smile that creeps up onto his face tells you all you need to know. "yeah... n' maybe they were about you..." he circles you waist and brings you closer, smirk on your face as he starts sucking on your neck. "oh? just maybe?" you try to keep your composure.

A/N: hope you enjoyed! if you did, please leave some love like comments or reblogs! and please send some asks-- both hard and soft hours are open!

taglist: @itz-yerin

©️2023copyrightofshutupheathersorryheatherr do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works even if you give me credit

[ghastly-poltergeist]

MASTERPOST

My name is Ghost :3

She/her, 19

This masterpost features some information about my blog, along with the masterlist of my writing!

This blog is a little bit of everything, I will be posting about my OC's and original stories, however here is other stuff I'm majorly into and will also post about:

Fallout

Half Life/Portal/TF2

Resident Evil/Silent Hill

All horror in general, movies, video games, analog, ect...

My asks are currently: OPEN ☝️🗣️‼️🔥

I do oneshots, headcanons, ships, the whole shebang! 👉 I am currently NOT doing x reader because I fear I will be ass at writing them, that may change in the future tho

Two little things:

1. I am currently in college, so please don't mind if I randomly die every once in a while

And 2. If I ever post NSFW, it'll only ever be slightly suggestive content OR tasteful nudity, nothing more than that. I will always put warning beforehand of course, same goes for gore and any other darker themes that may appear in my writting, I will always add trigger warnings ☝️

Finally, check under the cut for the masterlist! There isn't a lot but there will be more to come.

MASTERLIST

Stu Macher trans hcs

Take a break. (Leon Kennedy x James Sunderland)

[whinesandwhimpers]

down bad simon may look a little like this

You've stepped outside for some fresh air so when Simon walks out a few minutes after you and lights up a cigarette, your face immediately scrunches up in disgust.

He catches your expression. "Not a fan of smoking?"

"Came out for some fresh air."

"Hm, seems like more than that." He muses, turning his head away to blow out some smoke.

"I just think it's gross."

He's silent for a few moments and you think maybe he's offended even, but then he turns back to you and clears his throat.

"That one of your deal breakers then?"

"Deal brea—yeah. It is. Don't think I could bring myself to even kiss a smoker. Why? You interested?" You joke, expecting a laugh and dismissal of the conversation.

He immediately throws his cigarette on the ground and snuffs it out with his shoe, then walks over to the bin and pulls the half-full carton out of his pocket and throws it and his lighter out. Just like that. He walks back over to stand in front of you, his large hand coming up to rest on your cheek, an intensity simmering in his dark eyes as he looks at you.

"Yes."

[suguann]

Being a camgirl comes with its fair share of ups and downs, but you never expected one of the downs to be one of your unboxings from a fan going horribly wrong during a live stream—the proof of it still buzzing between your thighs beyond your finger's reach. 

A rush of embarrassment comes with knocking on your roommate’s bedroom door and asking him for help because you’re nearing the brink of overstimulation and can’t think straight enough to get the words out. It’s worse when he stands there and says nothing—all imposing with two tattooed arms crossed over his chest—while you try to get through a sentence without moaning. 

Simon looks at you with a cocked brow and something akin to amusement as he watches you squirm in his doorway. 

Then he finally says, “Get on the bed,” in a steady and low voice, opening his bedroom door wider.

You fidget under his scrutinizing gaze as you settle back against his pillows, biting back whimpers with a too-hot face and sweat dripping down your back. 

Him settling a knee on the bed makes you jump, “Let’s take a look, love.” 

Simon crawls up the bed, forcing your knees open, and you’re suddenly very aware of how broad and big he looks, towering over you—every part of you laid bare for him to see. A large hand presses right below your belly button, jostling the toy inside you, and this time, you can’t hold back the squeal that rips from your chest. 

“Sorry,” he murmurs, voice imperceptibly deeper, his lips twitching like he’s trying to hold back a smile. “Okay, you’re going to feel a slight stretch.”

You bite your lip. “A-alright—”

Slight doesn’t even come close to the fingers sliding into you, spearing your sensitive walls open and pressing into a spot where you’ve never been able to reach with startling precision. You remind yourself that he has to do this, that he’s just being…friendly, or whatever makes the lines less blurred. 

None of this stops the fact your lower stomach burns with the promise of another orgasm when his fingers brush against the egg vibrator before accidentally pressing it deeper inside.

“Ah, there it is.”

At the sight of your scrunched nose, he asks if it hurts. You shake your head; eyes squeezed shut in an attempt to hold back the stinging pleasure racing up your spine. “N-no,” you whimper.

“Relax, okay?”

Simon doesn’t comment on how you’re implying that it feels good. So good, you think, his thumb just barely touching your clit as he twists his hand to try a different angle. Then he pushes down on your belly again, and his long fingers finally grip the vibrator.

“Oh!” you moan at the feel of it dragging down your front wall, your fingers gripping the sheets. 

He has to tell you to relax again, his voice cracking, but you hardly hear it over your heart beating loudly in your ears. His fingers drag the toy out slowly, almost too slow that you can feel it bumping against every slippery ridge inside you.

“Ah, sorry,” he says when you twitch—unapologetic—using his thumb to rub soothing circles into your stomach. “You’re so wet. I need to make sure I don’t lose it again.”

You nod, cunt clenching down at his words.

And then Simon’s fingers curl up: your thighs start quivering, breath caught in your throat, and your jaw locks up until your orgasm ripples through you. It’s unending, the strongest one yet, and just when you think it’s over, you feel the press of his palm against your clit.

“W-wait! Simon,” you moan, pushing at his hand. “No more, I‘m sensitive!”

He gets you to fall over the edge one more time before finally slipping the vibrator out of you, letting it hum softly on the bed, and your exhausted body sinks into the mattress once again. Simon gathers you into his lap, rocking you back and forth.

You swallow lungfuls of air against his chest, head still spinning and walls spasming from the aftershocks. 

He murmurs in your ear about how good you are, kisses your temple, and rubs your sides, and it’s… enlightening. Moments pass before you finally return to yourself, and when he pulls back, his brows furrow at your pout.

“All good?”

You shake your head and go with honesty. “I didn’t think you’d cuddle me afterward.”

He smiles, thumb flicking your bottom lip. “You wanted me to fuck you?” 

Your mouth falls open. “N-no—”

Then he leans down, lips brushing against your ear: “Don’t worry, love. Good girls get fucked hard.”

[loveindefinitely]

task force 141 with a controversially young civilian girlfriend.

-> mentions of large age-gaps, referenced sexual content, alcohol use. afab!fem!reader. minor dubcon (everyone's drunk.)

thinking that you're studying in uni. working on the side to try and afford rent and, if you're lucky, some noodles every other night. you don't really get seen compared to your friends, who go out clubbing and spend their spare time on dating apps.

one time, your friend drags you to a bar. not usually your scene, considering its clientele is more for tradies, and military-type men. not like the stuck-up blue collar boys at your uni.

cue you getting drunk off your ass, barely even standing, when you bump into one johhny mactavish.

he holds your elbows, your chest crashing into his. gentle with it, too -- kind and sweet and grounding.

"y'alright, lass?" he asks, a small smirk on his face, eyes darting across your frame greedily. he, in all fairness, looks nearly as drunk as you. he stumbles a little with your weight.

you giggle, tilting your head to look at him. say something stupid like, "you don't look like a student."

his brows raise, his dimples deepen. "aye, very smart, hen."

you preen with the compliment, a cheesy grin stuck to your face. you make no move to stand up and leave. you think your friend just left with a guy anyways.

johnny moves you, muscled arm around your waist as he takes you to a booth.

three other men sit in it, only one looking somewhere in a ten-year age bracket to you. they're all impossibly large, filling out the space with ease. your stomach swoops, but you easily blame the alcohol.

manoeuvring you so you sit in his lap, johnny's hand is a comforting weight on your waist. he huffs a laugh.

"didn't realise we were goin' for jailbait, soap," the youngest one chimes, dark features shining in the pub's dim light. his eyes trail your frame silkily.

you can't stop the roll of your eyes -- your inhibitions have made you senseless. "'m not, 'm completely," you drag out the syllables, "legal."

a hand on your thigh makes you jolt, and when you look over, a blonde man with a black medical mask raises an unimpressed brow. "got a problem, kid?"

you shoot him a weak glare. "not a kid. weirdo."

the arm around your waist tightens, as does the weirdo's hand encompassing your thigh.

"not scared of anythin', are you darl'?" the final man in the booth asks, hands folded together where they rest at the table. he looks at least double your age, and that simple fact along with his drawling words has your core tightening.

"what's there to be scared of?" you ask, stupidly. your head tilts to the side, unknowingly moving to rest on johnny's shoulder. he doesn't comment.

"miss bein' young and drunk," gaz sighs, hand softly gripping the gin sat on the table in front of him.

"you look young," your brows furrow, not understanding. how old could he really be, to act so nostalgic of your current predicament? "how old are you guys?"

it's an embarrassing question -- makes you feel like a child all over again. but your interest is quickly peaking, and your need for answers overpowers your need for decorum.

johnny's the one to answer, his lips brushing your ear as he whispers.

"gaz, the pretty one over there, he's twenty-eight," he murmurs, heat stirring low in your gut as you nod mindlessly, meeting gaz's eyes.

johnny stokes his thumb over the skin of your hip, and you curl into him further -- stranger be damned.

"i'm thirty," he hums, and god, he sounds so fucking sensual you're about to melt into his arms. if you aren't already.

"the guy in the mask?" said man's hand tightens impossibly against your skin, fingers just shy of grazing your aching pussy, "he's thirty-seven. got a lot of experience, aye?"

you shudder.

"what about you?" you end up voicing, shyly meeting the last man's gaze. he takes a slow sip of his whiskey.

he leans back into the cushion, eyeing you carefully.

"forty-three."

your thighs squeeze together, and fuck, if that's not a turn-on. no matter how unsafe you should feel, surrounded by four military-grade, older men, it only manages to have you wet beyond belief.

all you can manage is one question.

"take me home?"