#i can't remember how long its been since i wrote anything for this but it's been a while

[flysafepapi]

the sin factor 14/?

masterlist

Warnings: mentions of murder, nothing too bad, other than that i don’t think there’s anything that needs a warning but let me know if there is

Summary: It’s in the eyes, too, the same ambition and clawing desperation to be more, get more, hidden behind a carefully blank stare. He also knows that Duke has something Tommy never had although it’s more likely that it’s the other way around, because Tommy has lines that he won’t cross for reasons that are his own. Duke has no such reservations.

tagging: @zablife​​​​​​​​ @the-makingsofgreatness​​​​ @peakyrogers​​​​​​​​ @hb-writes​​​​​​​ @caelys​​​​​ (let me know if you want to be added on or taken off)

The thing is, Tommy had assumed that eventually he would come to think of the boy as his son and not a stranger with eyes that looked too much like his own for comfort. It had been a foolish assumption, he knows that now, and yet he still can’t quite shake the idea. If everything had happened sooner, if he’d made an effort years ago, would it have stopped everything from happening? The thoughts turn over and over in his mind like a never-ending self imposed torture. Would it have stopped this? What was it that made Duke the way he was, something unspoken and hidden from his childhood, or was it something in their bloodline that did it? 

“You look unwell, are you ill?” 

From anyone else the words might’ve been concerned, but any warmth they might’ve held is smothered underneath the utterly blank voice they’re spoken in. Duke stares at him with eyes that might as well be carved from ice for all the coldness they hold within them. The gaze makes him feel like he’s underneath a microscope, being studied for purposes he’s not privy to, and for the first time he understands why people are so unsettled by his own stare. 

“There’s no shame in declining an invitation. Especially from someone like Oswald Mosley,” Duke says, still monotone, and if it wasn’t for the slight twitch of fingers Tommy might think he was completely unaffected by where they’re going. “The world is slowly going to hell and people are hosting parties like if they ignore it hard enough it won’t happen. 

“Duke-“

“Don’t worry, I’m sure we’ll have an interesting night,” Duke says, turning to look out the window at the crowds gathering outside the ostentatious club, still with that blank mask concealing what he’s thinking. 

He watches Duke ignore Isiah watching him in the rear view mirror. It had been Ada’s idea, keeping Isiah close at hand, because where one goes the other swiftly follows, but something about it makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. It means they’re both close enough to strike if that’s what they’ve been planning, and he knows they’ve been planning something. Neither of them have been seen much the past week and normally that would be a comfort, so why does it feel like he’s walking into his own execution chamber?

There’s no point in ordering Isiah to stay with the car and so he doesn’t even bother, turning away when Isiah steps up behind Duke like a silent shadow, glaring at anyone who gets too close. Thankfully not many people do, though whether they’re deterred by Isiah’s glares or the dead-eyed look on Duke’s face is impossible to tell. The part of Tommy that wants to keep Duke away from Mosley and his mistress, to minimise any collateral damage that could happen, wars with the small part of him that wants to stand back and see what happens. 

“Try to look less like you’re going to slit everyone’s throats,” he says quietly, and if he hadn’t been watching so closely he would’ve missed the minute switches in Duke’s face. He might’ve thought they were two different people entirely, had he not seen it for himself. Isiah laughs and conceals it, poorly, behind a cough. 

“I would never slit everyone’s throats,” Duke says, smiling like he doesn’t have a care in the world, “It’s a bitch to clean out of clothes and these are new.” It’s not comforting, but he’ll take it. 

***

Isiah watches from one of the small tables as Duke shakes Mosley’s hand, smiling like he’s being paid to do it, like it doesn’t make him want to claw his own skin off. It’s impressive how easily he manages to hide it. He’s too far away to hear much of the conversation but there’s no point in getting any closer. It would look suspicious, for one, and he’ll be hearing all about it later once they finally get away from here. 

He doesn’t turn to look when he feels someone stop beside him. Isiah had already seen her as soon as they stepped inside. 

“Ms. Nelson. I heard about what happened to your husband. I imagine it was quite a shock, finding him like that,” Isiah says, and he can practically feel the rage rolling off her like it’s something tangible. Sooner or later, Isiah’s money is on sooner, she’ll say something she won’t be able to take back. 

“Tell me, is it you calling the shots, or do you let Tommy Shelby’s son fu-“

If anyone were to look at them, all they’d see is a young couple getting a little closer than proper for such a public spot, not scandalous enough for someone to say anything but enough that they’d make their assumptions and keep their distance. He tightens his arm around Gina’s waist slowly, dragging her closer under the guise of young love or whatever inane story people will decide on if they’re seen, until it’s far past the point of comfort and she digs her fingernails into his wrist. Isiah knows the knife is sharp because he’d sharpened it himself, and he doesn’t bother being gentle when he holds the blade of it against her stomach underneath the table, hidden from view. 

The smell of her perfume is enough to make him sick. 

“Baby, if you think your family name is enough to deter me from opening you up all over this freshly polished floor, I’d suggest you rethink that and shut your fucking mouth.”

“Baby, if you think I’m scared of you, I’d suggest-“

He’ll laugh about it later, the way Gina shrinks into herself when she sees Duke reach around her to pick up her forgotten drink, staring at her unblinkingly as he downs it in one smooth movement. They’re attracting more attention now, especially after Duke’s moves in on Gina’s other side, the two of them boxing her between them, and she flinches when Duke reaches out to tuck her hair back behind her ear. 

“Do you want to know a secret, Gina?” Duke draws the name out mockingly, looking her over for a few quick seconds before he reaches down and pulls her hand away from Isiah’s wrist, eyes flashing when he feels the wetness of blood there. Isiah almost wants her nails to have left permanent marks behind, just so he can watch what Duke does to her for it. “You’re so close to being right. I do call the shots, so you get a point for guessing that, but you know what that means? All I have to do is say the word and he’d use that frankly beautiful knife to gut you like a fish. I’m tempted to let him, all that red would be spectacular against all this marble, don’t you think?”

Isiah sees Tommy looking at them from across the room, and the carefully blank look on his face is so similar to his son’s that it’s amusing to see. Isiah shakes his head and watches until Tommy deliberately turns his back, and he can see that the inaction takes a toll, even if it is Gina they’ve got trapped between their bodies. 

“Then afterwards, when everyone has all run away and this place is empty, he wouldn’t think twice about fucking me in the blood you leave behind if I asked him to, because unlike you, I have a husband that truly would do anything for me. You don’t even have a husband anymore. He didn’t even call for you while I was spilling his blood all over my shoes.”

“Husband?”

Isiah isn’t expecting the box that Duke pulls out of his pocket, or the smile Duke sends him, one of the rare real ones and not just the one he uses when he’s hiding who he really is. He’s not expecting the familiar rings inside. 

“Your father gave them to me, I’ve been waiting for the right time.”

“And this is the right time?”

Gina has gone silent, probably from the knife digging further into her stomach, but maybe from the shock of what’s happening right now. It could go either way.

“We can never make it official, I know that, but I know how I feel, and I’m sick of pretending to care what everyone else might think. Will you-“

“Love, as soon as I saw you, I knew I’d follow you anywhere, and if I had to do it all over again I still wouldn’t change a thing.” 

The ring feels right on his finger, like belonging and home and acceptance all at once. He doesn’t even care about anyone that might be looking when he steps around Gina to cup his hands around Duke’s face, looking down at him. It’s a risk, even above all the violence and the bloodshed the two of them are personally responsible for, and he knows they’re both going to be subjected to a lecture on the way home but he can’t bring himself to care. 

“You’re my reason, baby.”

[matryosika]

Recording Sessions

Pairing — 3racha and Reader

Wordcount — 3,485 words

Genre — Smut

Warnings — Dom!Chan and Changbin, Switch(sub lean)!Jisung, consensual voice recording. Dirty talk, use of petnames (slut), mild humiliation, oral sex (m. receiving), brief spanking, unprotected penetrative sex, creampie, mild cum play, sex in a recording booth.

Autor's note — Wrote this a while ago for a commission, but as I was lurking through my google drive I found this again. I think its fun and I've been meaning to post something for a while now, but I can't get anything done sadly. I think I wrote this back in may or june? I am not too sure, but I hope you like it! I've been writing for NCT these days and I have 2 wips for them. I'm also working on something with Lee Know as a character. I hope I can get any of that finished soon! Hope you enjoy this, and I apologize for any grammar/spelling mistakes in advance 🤍

“Do any of you even know what a real moan sounds like?”

The look on their faces is amusing. Hadn't you been inside the recording booth, you're sure Changbin would have already headlocked you in a playful manner for running your mouth. 

But you are inside the recording booth, the three of them sitting in the studio with frustration written all over their faces.

“This sounds so fake,” you continue, taking off the headset. “What did you type in youtube to get this sample? Women moaning ASMR?”

“You’re not being helpful at all, you know that?” Changbin asks, trying to keep a serious demeanor but failing almost miserably every time he remembers the audio samples that are currently as background vocals in their upcoming song. They do sound awful, but he isn't as straight-forward as you are.

“Well, you asked for my opinion and I’m giving it to you,” the smug look on your face pisses off Chan just a little, but it is nothing new —the endless bickering between the both of you has happened ever since you two met. It's always light-hearted and friendly, but it surely does bring some tension into your friendship with him.

“Any ideas on how we can improve this?” 

“For once, get rid of all the fake moaning and get something that actually sounds like a woman being pleasured,” you instruct them, and smile when you see the three of them paying attention to your words. They have such abilities when it comes to music and producing, but they often look for constructive criticism outside their small group of three just to see things from different perspectives. “We don’t sound like that, it’s more like gasping for air and deep sighs accompanied with mostly quiet moans. This sounds like someone shouting exaggeratedly”.

“I’ve tried,” Chan murmurs, leaning back on his studio chair that he spins slightly. “But nothing sounds right. It’s a bit too much, maybe”.

“No, I do think the song calls for background sounds like these,” you encourage the trio. “It’s just- you need something more raw and real”.

There’s a quick moment of silence in which the four of you exchange glances, without exactly saying anything in particular.

Changbin and Chan look too deep into their own thoughts, probably trying to come up with another idea or alternative for that sound sample you all hate so much. Jisung, on the other hand, is staring right into you through the glass barrier that separates you from them, with an idea in mind he’s not quite sure how to deliver, but that he ends up doing it anyway. 

“What if we record you?” Jisung asks, drawing the scowling glances of the other two. “I mean, you can obviously fake them since you're a woman, right?” 

The suggestion has you cackling quietly, but even Chan and Changbin are considering it —you can tell by how they're looking at you as if they're expecting your verdict.

“Right,” you scoff, crossing both of your arms in front of your chest, “because what better way to spend my Saturday afternoon than faking moans inside a recording booth”. 

“It’s not going to take you long,” It’s Chan who speaks this time. The one you thought was going to be the least to be on board with such a crazy idea. “We all know this isn’t going to be the first time you fake them”. 

Your mouth opens in awe and you curse them mentally when they all laugh under their breaths. It was just one time, with a guy you didn’t even like, and you told them about it because you wanted to get the embarrassing memory out of your system. You were too bored, and desperate to go, that you ended up faking a series of moans that tricked him into thinking you were finished. 

“Very funny, Christopher,” you spit, resentful. “I thought you promised not to bring that shit up, ever again”.

“And I thought you promised you’d help us,” Chan attacks, “so what is it going to be?”

You look at them for a couple of seconds, pondering the situation. You can help them, you really have nothing better to do —yet a better idea comes to mind. 

“Why faking it if you can have the real deal?” you ask, nibbling at the skin against your fingernails. You’re trying to appear collected, but even suggesting such a crazy idea it’s making you feel uneasy. Unless you've gotten the signals wrong, you know they won't turn down such a proposal. “You’re all just sitting there, when one of you could help me”.

It’s Jisung who leans down over the console, clicking a red button to open the microphone.

“What exactly are you proposing?”

“Well, you were the one who pinned this on me, Han,” judging by their facial expressions, you know they understood exactly what you meant. They just want to make sure you are all on the same page. “Why don’t you come here and help me, so we can get this over with?”

“Why him?” Changbin immediately asks, offended even because you didn't consider him as your first option.

“Do you want to help me too?” you chuckle, “because I wouldn’t mind if you joined”.

“Han,” Chan’s cold voice interrupts the silence, catching the attention of the younger. He doesn’t say anything else, but rather signals for him to get inside the recording booth with a tilt of his head.

Jisung doesn’t say anything either, but his eyes flutter between you and Chan, almost begging for further instructions. He hesitates, perplexed. Not because he doesn’t want this, but because he really can’t begin to comprehend this is really happening.

“If you don’t want to, Changbin can do it,” the older speaks again.

“N-no, I mean- I can do it,” Jisung stands up from his studio chair abruptly and hastily, like he is in a rush. To be honest, he kind of is —he has been daydreaming of this moment ever since he met you, so he isn't going to waste it. Even if that means there are going to be other people watching or involved. “I just- what do I do?”

Chan and Changbin scoff quietly, teasing him. “You should ask her that question,” the former replies, crossing both of his arms and leaning back on his chair, “not us”.

“Yeah, okay”. 

Jisung walks inside the booth, swallowing thickly. Is he really about to do this? Is he dreaming? Or is this some sort of a sick joke?

He can’t help but overthink the situation, but every single one of his thoughts goes away when you welcome him into your embrace, holding him tightly against your body with his half-hard cock pressing against your lower abdomen and your tits against his toned chest. The other two are watching, and that only riles him up a lot more.

“Have you ever been this shy?” You tease him, wrapping your arms around his neck and brushing your lips against his. “You’re always so cocky, always running your mouth. But right now you aren’t. I wonder why”. 

“We don’t have that much time,” Chan warns you through the speakers, and you can feel the despair in his voice. Like Changbin, he’s anticipating something and you’re edging them, just like you are to Jisung. 

“Then I’m going to need more help,” you hum, latching your fingers against Jisung’s dark hair while pulling him closer to the crook of your neck. He loses no time and starts kissing and licking the sensitive flesh, hiding his face there. You, on the other hand, look through the glass barrier proudly to the other two who are out. “From the both of you”. 

“One isn’t enough for you? Do you need the three of us?” Chan asks, poking his cheek with his tongue. Changbin, on the other hand, observes the scene in awe, with both excitement and impatience. You don't reply, but shoot an accomplice glance at the older. “I always knew you were some of a slut, I just didn’t think this much”.

“Well, now you know,” you smile, biting your lower lip when Jisung sucks on a sensitive spot a bit too harshly, “so start recording”. 

The following moments are blurry, perhaps because of how nervous you are. You try to act in control, like you're the one calling the shots. But when you feel the three of them near you, with their hands all over you, it's hard to. 

“You’re not that bold now, are you?” Chan whispers in your ear, pressing your arse against his crotch. To your sides, there’s Jisung and Changbin, who grope and kiss your body as much as the other allows them to.

“I’m doing this for you,” you sigh, kicking your head back until it meets Chan’s shoulder. 

“Right,” he scoffs, grabbing a fistful of your hair and forcing you to kneel in front of Changbin and Jisung. “We just wanted your advice, but somehow we ended up like this”.

“I wonder why,” you tease him looking up to him while your hands tease the men in front of you.

“I’m sure it has nothing to do with the fact that she’s such a filthy slut,” Changbin murmurs, caressing your hair back. 

You can feel them through their sweatpants —you can feel how hard and ready they are for you, how desperate they are for your touch. You wish to take your sweet time with them, to suck the three of until they come in your mouth only to fuck you afterwards. 

You want more than just a quick fuck. But this will have to do for now.

“Suck them off,” Chan orders, pleased with the sight of you on your knees. 

Good thing you’re wearing such accessible clothes today —you’re making his job ten times easier.

“Get us nice and wet, baby,” Changbin proceeds, pulling your head against his crotch while he lowers his sweatpants just enough to release his throbbing cock. “We’re going to fuck you with it, so it’s up to you how easy you’re going to make this for yourself”.

“Don’t forget Jisung too,” the one behind you murmurs into your ear, practically kneeling right beside you while he pulls up your dress, revealing a shameful piece of clothing that he can barely name as underwear. The sight makes Chan’s cock throb even harder. “See how much he’s leaking? I know he has been dreaming of this for a while now”. 

“Fucker,” Jisung hisses through gritted teeth, feeling betrayed by his friend. Truth is, he isn’t telling any lies.

“Aw, you have?” He has been infatuated with you for quite some time now, and he is too awkward to be discreet about it. You have caught him checking you out shamelessly, and it has always been a turn on for you. 

“We all have,” Changbin says, nibbling at his lower lip when you wrap your hand around his cock. You squeeze both of them hard, staring up at them with a mischievous smile. “If only you knew what we talk about when you’re not around”. 

“Mh, I feel a little excluded now,” you pout. “Why don’t you guys just show me?”

You spent another ten minutes on your knees, being throat fucked by your dearest friends Changbin and Jisung. They take turns in burying their cocks inside your warm mouth, using your hair as leverage to let you know which one of them to suck next.

In the meantime, Chan just watches. 

You’re drooling all over yourself by now, your shirt ruined with a mixture of spit, precum and sweat. Your skin feels sticky, your mouth feels full and your pussy feels wet —you really wouldn’t be surprised if the floor was stained with your arousal.

“C’me here,” Chan tells you, grabbing you by your arm and helping you get in a different position. Your knees are bruised and red, but you don’t really care —tomorrow it will be a fun reminder of what happened today. “Now let’s really start recording”. 

You lay on the floor on all fours, with your ass up and your hands and knees supporting your body weight. It's an uncomfortable position, but you can only do much in a recording booth with no bed or couches.

The first one to take a spot right behind you is Changbin. Out of the three, it’s the one who seems more desperate to get his release and you kind of understand him —you’re desperate to feel something too, anything.

“I don’t have-” his voice is strangled, almost panicking. You can feel his hands gripping your hips, and the tip of his cock brushing against your slit. 

“I don’t care,” you encourage him, whimpering when Chan forces your head to face his throbbing dick that he has his fist wrapped around. “Just fuck me”.

It’s the heat of the moment that's getting the best out of you, but you can’t begin to regret it when you feel Changbin’s cock burying itself little by little inside your aching pussy. You try to hold back your moans, worrying that someone outside the hall might hear you, but you know it’s practically impossible.

Plus, that’s the reason why you’re there, anyways.

 So you start enjoying the moment, being as vocal as possible. If anything, the lewd sounds escaping through your lips are only pushing Changbin towards the edge, hips snapping at yours roughly enough to get a series of strained moans immersed in both pleasure and pain.

“You sound so g-good,” Changbin grunts, biting his lower lip to stop himself from being too loud. “Had I known your moans were this pretty, I've would've fucked you before”.

“Fuck, Changbin”. The way his name falls from your lips boosts his ego, and he’s glad everything is being recorded. He makes a mental note to go back to the recording later today, just in case he needs to unwind.

“Jisung will fuck you after him,” Chan demands your attention yet again, brushing the tip of his cock against your lips. He’s kneeling in front of you while Changbin is pounding your pussy from behind. Jisung, on the other hand, is stroking himself while he witnesses the scene; too shy to actually make a move himself, like the rest of them. “And then I will go next, how does that sound?”

“How many seconds- of the sample do you even need?” you chuckle, but the laugh is soon muffled by another whimper caused by Changbin’s ministrations. 

“Just a couple,” he replies, smearing his precum along your lips. “But I’m sure you wouldn’t want to leave this studio without being fucked by Jisung and me, right?”

You love his cockiness, and how he is always almost right. So you nod frantically, clenching around Changbin at the idea of being filled with the both of them in just a couple of seconds.

It doesn’t take him long to come inside you, especially not with how much your pussy is clenching around him. He does so shamelessly, grunting your name and gripping your hips too harshly you’re sure it will leave a mark tomorrow.

When he pulls out, commanded by Jisung who is too desperate to wait another second, you feel his sticky arousal leaking out of you. It’s a weird sensation, and it makes you feel dirty, but you can’t deny you like it. 

And you like it even more when you feel the tip of Jisung’s cock gathering all of his friend’s cum, fucking it back into you little by little, making sure it doesn’t go to waste.

“Who would’ve thought, hm?” You whimper, feeling a bit sore from Changbin’s aggressive care. “You’re not as innocent as I thought, Jisungie”.

He doesn’t say anything, but gives you a sharp thrust in response. One that makes your whole body jolt and tremble, one that earns you one of the prettiest moans the three of them have ever heard.

Chan is sure the recording is good to be used by now, but he doesn’t want to stop just yet. Or at least not until he also gets his fun.

“S-so tight,” Jisung murmurs, holding you more delicately than Changbin did. You love the contrast, though, and they’re both a good fuck. “And warm, all filled up with cum”.

“You’re going to fill me up too, Jisungie?” On any other occasion, the nickname would’ve earned you a killer gaze and a couple of curses from him. But right now, Jisung doesn’t mind. In fact, he likes it. There’s something enticing about you acting like the one in control.

“Can- I?” He asks with a shakily breath. His sloppy movements tell you he is close, and you take it as a compliment. A minute is definitely a record, but you’re really not mad about it. 

“That depends,” you tease him, crying out loud when his cock starts hitting sensitive spots inside your walls. “Are you going to come a lot for me?” 

“Ngh, y-yes,” Jisung whimpers. “Please, I’m- close, just let- say yes, please”.

“Go on,” you order him, arching your ass even more for him. “Give it to me”. 

Not even a couple of seconds later, you feel a now familiar sensation warming up your lower tummy, leaking through your pussy and onto your thighs. 

“Shit,” Changbin scoffs, checking the scene out. “You made a fucking mess”. 

You want to look at what he did, know how much he came for you, but Chan reinforces your initial position yet again by arching your ass even more.

“Be a good slut for me,” he tells you, landing a sharp spank on one of your ass cheeks. The sudden action makes you cry out in pain, but you don’t hate the sensation completely. “And I’ll be good to you”.

You’re not quite sure what he means, and you don’t get time to ask before he’s bottoming out inside of you. 

“Fuck!” you moan, suddenly losing the strength on your arms and your upper body threatening to plop down onto the floor. “C-chan!”

“C’me here,” he groans, sneaking a hand underneath your tummy looking for your clit. Again, the position isn’t the best but he somehow makes it work. And when you feel his digits rubbing your nerves just at the same pace of his thrusts, you start clenching around him even harder.

“Oh my g-god,” that stimulation is exactly what you need to come undone. Jisung and Changbin did a hell of a job getting you closer to your orgasm, but this is exactly what you needed to reach your climax.

And a well deserved one.

“Come,” Chan grunts through gritted teeth, biting his lower lip while furrowing his eyebrows. The sight of your ass bouncing against his cock is enough to get him to come, but he needs you to come first. “I’ll come with you”.

“Ngh- Chan,” and just like some magic words, you’re coming right after his order. He can feel you tightening around him, trying to milk his cock just as badly as you did with the other two. And he can’t resist that feeling, so he sticks up to his word and comes inside you almost at the same time. 

“Such- a good- little fucking slut,” his words are strained and painful. But his voice only contributes more to your own orgasm, just like the feeling of his cum filling you up. 

It takes the two of you a few moments to actually stop —even after coming, he kept on fucking you slowly until he made sure to fuck all of their cum inside of you. The last thing he wanted was to make a mess inside the recording booth, but it was inevitable. 

The floor is stained with all sorts of fluids, ones that are dripping out of your swollen pussy and others that no one knows how they got there. 

“Jisung,” Chan sighs, caressing your hips while fixing his clothes. “Stay with her, I’ll go get something to clean her up. Make sure she’s alright, and take her to the sofa in the studio, ‘kay?”

Jisung nods, attentive, and he helps you get up off the floor with ease. He wraps his arm around you, and fixes the top part of your dress to which you mutter a quick and soft thank you. 

“Changbin’s going to get you something to eat or drink, and I’ll take care of this. Alright?” 

You nod, still supporting your whole weight on Jisung. Your sore legs can only do much.

“He’s going to be with you in the meantime, but we will all be right back,” Chan’s soft gaze is the opposite to what he showed inside the recording booth, but you absolutely adore the contrast. 

“Yeah, ‘s okay,” you smile. 

“You did good, yeah?” Chan smiles, caressing your hair, “sounded so pretty for us”.

You offer them a weak, yet satisfied smile, “my pleasure”. 

[that-sarcastic-writer]

A Love Game

DI!Single!Dad!Leon S. Kennedy X F!Teacher!Reader

Summary: You hear a glimpse of Leon's relationship with his daughter. And later he makes you a proposal you just can't refuse

Warnings: mild sexual content, still minors dni, brief phone sex, allusions to sex, Leon has a mouth on his as always, bit of soft!dom leon, mostly Leon being a soft dad on this one, foul language (as always), no use of y/n

WC: 3k

A/N: so I'm totally in love with this dynamic! And yalls support was insane. I literally wrote two separate drafts of a continuation of these two and whichever I finished first was gonna be posted, so the light smut one won bc I'm tired atm and didn't feel like sitting in front of my computer for 6 hours🙃 so this short part will have a second part to it with full spicy time. And another standalone part with these two (coffee and other things) having some more spicy time is also in the works, so stay tuned. Besitos <3

Universe Masterlist

Leon blinked slowly, his eyes now starting to grow sore from staring at the bright computer screen for so long. But he just hadn't had time to finish this stupid report. Sure, he has had two whole days to get it done, but with a tiny human clinging to his arm every waking minute, it was a bit more complicated than he thought. But he couldn't possibly ignore his little girl when he barely had the time to be with her without having to worry about stopping some mad scientist with too much time in their hands. He didn't mind though. His little girl was more important than anything else. 

Still, he took advantage of the little window of time he had now. He had given Isabella dinner a little over an hour ago. Then left her in the dining room to finish her homework. She had always been a smart girl, responsible with her homework, she never fussed when he asked her to do it, so it didn't worry him in the slightest to leave her to do her own thing. She tended to get distracted when he was around anyway. 

Though, maybe an hour had gone by when he heard tiny feet pad bare through the wood floors and he saw a mess of chocolate brown strands sticking from its bun peek above his computer screen. He slowly lowered the screen until it was almost shut and he was met with a pair of sapphire eyes that were a replica of his own. He raised an eyebrow at her. 

"Daddy." She took a step closer to him, her eyes big like she wanted to ask him something. 

Leon sat up fully, setting his laptop aside and nodded at her, giving her his full attention now. "What's up bee?" 

"Can I.. uhm.. I can play with your switch now?" She asked, dark lashes batting as she fiddled with her hands. As if she had to give him puppy dog eyes for him to say yes. He kept his face serious though. 

"You wanna play on my switch?" She nodded. He ran his fingers over his light stubble as if he was thinking real hard, he pursed his lips in thought. "I dunno hun, did you finish your homework?" 

"How did you know I had homework?" She asked with an adorable frown on her face, it took Leon all of his willpower not to break then. 

"Well I do now." He slipped a smile and she pouted. He couldn't help but chuckle at his little girl. He took her in his arms and sat her on his lap. "Well I knew before. Wanna know how?" 

Her head perked up. "How?" 

Leon leaned into her ear with a smile, "'Cause dads know everything about their little girls." He pressed a kiss to the side of her hair and set her back on her feet. "But yeah, Miss Pretty Teacher told me." 

"That's cheating!" She whipped her head around with a gasp and glared at him. He again couldn't hide his laugh. 

"Yeah alright, you caught me," he raised his hands up at her in surrender. "You can play on the switch for a bit. Do you remember how to turn it on?" 

Izzy proudly nodded and skipped over to the large TV hooked up to the living room. The TV had been on, nothing playing, but just on, since Leon had intended to play some white noise in the background but never actually loaded up anything. He switched to the right input as he watched Izzy turn on the Switch. It took her a second to remember how, but she was happily skipping back to the couch with the controllers as the loading screen came up before Leon could get up to help. He shook his head to himself, but he puffed out a breath when Izzy jumped on his lap, rather hard, the little girl giggling when he groaned. 

"Jesus Christ, when did you get so big?" He chuckled, fixing her on his lap so she wouldn't fall and watched as she scrolled through the games until she found Mario Kart. 

"I turned seven in October, remember?" She piped up, genuinely reminding him of such an important date, as if he would ever forget. He nodded. 

"I know, Izzy. I took you to Dave and Busters with Amara, remember?" 

"Oh. Yeah, you're right. That was fun. We should go again sometime! Please daddy?" She turned her head to look at him with this smile on her face and her big blue eyes. 

God, what did he ever do to deserve this kid? 

He pressed his lips to her forehead and nodded. 

"'Course. I'll talk to Amara's mom, okay?" 

He watched as Izzy excitedly nodded and cheered happily before she got lost in the game in front of her. He didn't mind her having screen time. It wasn't like she had an iPad glued to her face twenty-four-seven. He let her play once or twice a week, and maybe a third if he was feeling like playing with her. And she was more than happy to spend that time with her dad. 

Tonight he wasn't really feeling playing, so he watched her do her best. To her, she was the biggest winner there ever was, throwing turtle shells and bombs at practically nothing and hitting the wall with every curve, but she had fun with it, so he let her be, cheering her on whenever she finished a race, even if it was in ninth or eighth place. 

Maybe thirty minutes had passed when he felt his phone buzz beside him. He took his eyes away from the colorful screen to look at his phone. It lit up with a text, and his smile grew wide at the name. 

My pretty teacher. 

He grabbed his phone and quickly opened the conversation. You had been texting back and forth all day, for days now, after what he considered a perfect first date, but he just hadn't gotten around to match your schedule to plan another date. So you had resorted to texting and maybe calling once here and there. But God, he was really missing you right about now.

My pretty teacher: sorry, I went to dinner with my mom and sister. And I just got home. Hru? 

He bit his lip as he attempted to type into his phone one handed. 

Me: It's fine. I'm ok. With izzy. 

My pretty teacher: awww���� 

Me: Can you call? I'm texting with one hand at the moment. 

You saw the message, and he could see the three text bubbles appear and disappear. Until they didn't come back. He mentally grimaced at himself, maybe the idea of talking to him while Isabella was there made you uncomfortable? Shit. He hadn't thought about that. Christ, he hadn't dated in so long he had forgotten that being a single dad wasn't exactly the biggest turn on. No matter how much one liked kids. 

His anxiety riddled brain stopped racing when he saw your contact name pop up on his screen as his phone started ringing. He grinned to himself. He glanced at Izzy— her full attention was still on her game, he shrugged and answered the call. He set his phone down, still having one ear bud in from when he was working on his laptop. 

"Hey Miss." He spoke first, his heart racing in his chest a bit. 

"Hi Leon." He could hear the smile in your voice. That shy smile he thought was the prettiest thing. 

"You busy?" He asked, still a bit worried he was interrupting you in the middle of something. Though the indistinct sound of TV playing in the background let him know that maybe you weren't that busy. 

"Not really. I got home a little bit ago so I was just about to run myself a bath." You answered, walking back and forth between your bedroom and the bathroom connected to it. "You?"

Leon tried his hardest not to think about your words too much. Not right now. 

"Nah. Just watching Izzy play on my switch. She's kicking ass in Mario Kart." He heard you blurt out a giggle, which made him chuckle, but what made him actually laugh was Izzy shooting him a frown over her shoulder. 

"Daddy, that's a no-no word." 

Leon snapped his head down at Izzy and he frowned, not sure if he heard her correctly, "What's that bee?" 

"I said that's a bad word."

"What is?" 

"Ass." 

Leon almost snorted at the way she said the word. With a frown and her lips pursed. He didn't care if she said bad words or not. He sure as hell said them all the time, but he encouraged her not to repeat what he said, in front of other people, at least. He narrowed his eyes at her. 

"So don't say it. I'm an adult. I can say them." When she kept looking at him, he placed a hand on top of her head and —gently— turned her head back towards the TV screen, despite her protest. "Keep playing your game, Isabella. Or you can't sit on my lap anymore." 

All Leon could hear was you attempting to muffle your laughter, but he could hear your giggles loud and clear. He only rolled his eyes, but he had a tiny smile of his own. 

"C'mon don't laugh, being a parent is hard. Are you the one teaching her this no-no bull— B.S?" He caught himself, closing his eyes when you laughed even more, now not even bothering to hide it. 

"I have to! I have a swear jar, I'm sorry. I gotta set an example." 

He actually laughed at this, remembering the mouth you had on you when he had you on his bed. 

"Yeah, well, you weren't so pure and innocent when you were screaming—" He caught himself again, his own eyes widening when he remembered Isabella was right there and he sighed out softly. "Give me an hour and I'll give you the answer you deserve, Miss." 

You stayed quiet for a second, not because he offended you, but because you needed a second to breathe and control the heat that flashed between your legs at his insinuation. You exhaled deeply before responding. 

"You're what again? Playing Switch with Izzy? 

Leon hummed in response. "She is. She's sitting on my lap so I'm being forced to watch." 

"I'm not forcing you!"

"On your game, Isabella. Stop listening to my conversation." 

"Does she have her own Switch or something?" You asked, now sitting on the edge of your bathtub as hot water poured from the faucet. 

"No. It's my Switch. But I leave it in the living room so she can play sometimes." He answered you with a shrug you obviously couldn't see. 

You chuckled softly, "How old are you again?" 

"Thirty-eight, but that's besides the point. I barely have time to use the thing. I mostly bought it for Izzy." He wasn't lying— entirely. He sometimes played, late at night by himself when he wanted to drown himself in a bottle of whiskey. He would choose to play a game to blow off steam instead of getting drunk with his little girl sleeping in the next room or passing out drunk at some shitty bar. 

"I'm very convinced by that." You snorted, making him sigh out at you.

"Hmph. Whatever. You wouldn't understand how cathartic throwing green turtle shells at tiny cars can be." 

"Oh I bet." 

"Daddy?" You heard Isabella's voice through the phone and your heart warmed.

Leon looked down at Izzy, "Yeah?" 

"Who are you talking to?" She asked with genuine curiosity, her very glorious race tournament now over and her attention was on him. 

He heard you go silent, most likely having heard the little girl and he sighed out, his eyes landing up on the ceiling for a second as he thought of his answer. 

"Just a friend, bee." He ultimately decided on that answer. It wasn't that he was ashamed of being with you, not at all, but Izzy was still young, and even he knew there had to be a proper introduction of you outside of your teacher role. He actually wanted to do this the right way.

"You fuck my brains out last week and I'm just a friend now?" He heard you comment in his ear and he groaned out. 

"C'mon, that's not fair." He leaned back into the couch, his forearm over his eyes now as he basically had two women all over him, pressing him with way too many questions for his liking. 

"I'm just giving you a hard time, Leon. I get it." There was humor in your voice, lightheartedness and even though he couldn't see you, he had a feeling you had that gentle smile on your lips. That eased the pressure on his chest. 

"Listen sweetheart, it's almost Izzy's bedtime," His eyes were on Izzy now, and with his eyes he was nudging at her to start wrapping up her game. She pouted, but didn't otherwise fuss. "Call you in an hour?" 

You both had this dumb, lovesick smile on your face, if only you could see the other.

"I'll be up."

The warm water, the foaming body wash and the intoxicating smell of your favorite candle had done wonders to relax you. When you left the bathtub you felt like a whole new person. Though there still this tug of butterflies in your stomach as you anxiously waited for Leon to call you. 

You sat on the edge of the tub, warm and fluffy robe wrapped around your naked body as you mindlessly scrolled through your social media for a little while before you decided to check out for the night. You nearly slipped right off the tile when your phone buzzed and you felt a cold shiver run down your spine. 

"Hey, sorry about, y’know, earlier. Izzy and I are like that." You smiled at the sound of Leon's voice, now a bit hushed but more relaxed and carefree, like he now could say whatever the fuck he wanted. 

"It's okay. It was cute, hearing how you talk to her. You're sweet." You smiled to yourself, and you could hear him breathe out a soft laugh, most likely a bit flustered by your words, but he otherwise didn't show it. "You put her to sleep though?" 

"Yeah, I stayed with her 'til she fell asleep. I'm in my bedroom now, about to take a shower." He said the words slowly, with purpose, like he wanted you to think about it like he had been thinking about you, taking that bath. "So, you take your bath yet?" 

"Yeah, it was nice. I definitely needed it. I could've used some company though." You bit your lip, testing his reaction. There was silence, then he hummed. 

"Yeah? That so?" Now it was your turn to hum in agreement, your legs instinctively closing as you tried to soothe the ache between your thighs. "I'm sure you could've. Would've been nice to have someone hold you, right? Have someone leave kisses on your wet skin, say how good you're doing while getting your pretty pussy fingered?" 

You couldn't hold back the moan that left your throat at his words, and your free hand instantly traveled down, stopping at your belly. 

"Oh, that's a sound I'll never get tired of hearing. Fuck, you're already moaning for me and I'm not even there to give you a reason." He exhaled out a chuckle, his hardening cock starting to press against his sweatpants. 

"Fuck, I really wish you were here." You sighed out, your hand itching closer towards your already wet cunt, but you knew it wasn't your touch you ached for. It was Leon's. 

"Yeah? Why's that?" 

You whined softly, your phone almost slipping off your grip as your head fell to the side. "Leon…" 

"Tell me." 

"Because… I really, really, need you to touch me, hold me, ugh— I just need you to fuck me, Leon." 

Leon clenched his fist as his side, teeth digging into his bottom lip as he listened to your desperate words, and the sound shot straight to his cock. Fuck, he'd be lying if he said he didn't need you, too. 

"Goddamn baby," He grunted softly, his hand now brushing the front of his sweats, where his cock strained against the material, and he tried to muffle the sound between his teeth, but you heard it anyway. "You have no fucking idea how much I've been wanting to ruin that pussy of yours again. It's actually driving me crazy." 

You shuddered, the ache between your legs starting to become unbearable. "I really want to see you too, baby." 

Leon closed his eyes, biting his lip raw as he thought fuck it. He could explain in the morning. 

"Fuck it, just fuck it. Wanna take the drive here? I swear I'll give you exactly what you need and it'll be so worth it." 

You'd like to think you were a rational person, you always thought things through twice, three times if necessary. You didn't take risks, much less acted in a way that could be considered immoral, but for Leon? Fuck, for that man you would become the biggest whore in this world if it meant he would take you just one more time. 

"Be there in thirty." 

Fuck it. 

Sneak peek of A Love Game Part II, coming soon

His lips were hard on your own, messy on your jaw, like he didn't know which part he wanted to kiss more. Your fingers were entangled in his perfectly soft honey brown strands, already melting under his touch. His hand came up under your jaw to grip your face in place, long fingers sprawled out over your neck. He pulled you back by your face and his eyes were hard on you, with this mixture of authority and utter need to fuck you. He could be both. 

"This is how this is gonna be. I'm going to throw you on that bed and fuck you the way you deserve. But I better not hear a single fucking sound leave those pretty lips of yours. Not tonight. Got it?"

Stay tuned for upcoming parts lovelies. Besitos<3

[roosterforme]

How Could I Forget? | Rooster x Reader

Summary: When Bradley met you in a dive bar in Virginia, he just knew he wasn't going to be able to stop thinking about you. Even a year later, he still remembers your laugh and the way you kissed him.

Warnings: Fluff, drinking and swearing

Length: 2800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

I wrote this for the 'Its not the prompt. It's the creator' challenge from @tgm-all4one. Check out my masterlist for more!

Bradley flipped through the options in the ancient jukebox while he sipped a cheap beer. This had to be the shittiest bar he'd ever been inside, and that was really saying something, since he was a University of Virginia alumni. 

"Let's see..." he muttered. "Danger Zone? No. Take My Breath Away? Nah. Slow Ride? Absolutely not."

He finally selected Great Balls of Fire and turned to check where his cousins had disappeared off to. But the bar was packed with locals waiting for the fireworks to start over the Chesapeake Bay, and he couldn't spot any of them. 

If they ditched him in this sticky little hellhole on the outskirts of Norfolk, Virginia, he was going to be so pissed. He scanned the bar once more as the song started playing, and his eyes settled on the cutest thing he had seen in a long time. 

You were holding your beer bottle like a microphone and aggressively lip syncing along with Jerry Lee Lewis as his voice blasted from the jukebox. 

Bradley smiled. You were right in the middle of the crowded bar, but nobody else had seemed to notice how you were shimmying along to the song, looking adorable in your own little world. Your eyes were squeezed shut as you mouthed Come on baby, you drive me crazy! Goodness, gracious, great balls of fire!

When Bradley laughed, you opened your eyes, and they met his immediately. You pressed your lips together, suddenly looking shy at being caught rocking out. You covered your mouth with your hand in embarrassment as your eyes went wider while Bradley tried to squeeze through the crowd to get to you. 

He was afraid you were going to try to sneak off, but you didn't. You were just nonchalantly drinking your beer when he reached you. 

"That was quite a performance," he said, and you looked up at him, clearly amused. 

"I don't know what you're talking about," you replied, but your smirk said otherwise. 

"That was my song," he said, nodding toward the jukebox.

"What do you mean?" you asked, pressing the bottle to your lips, and drawing Bradley's eyes down to watch the way you took a sip, the bottle lingering on your bottom lip for a beat.

"I selected it. On the jukebox," he grunted, and you laughed at him. 

"No, you didn't. I did."

Bradley scoffed as you squared your shoulders and jutted out your chin in playful defiance. "I chose it like three minutes ago," Bradley insisted. 

"I picked it like five minutes ago!" Your laugh was infectious, and Bradley just wanted to keep it going.

He shook his head solemnly. "It's still my song."

And you shook your head, imitating him. "If anything, it's Jerry Lee Lewis's song."

"Well, I can't argue with that. I did love your cover version though."

"Thanks." God, your smile was adorable. And your lips on that bottle had him thinking some scandalous things about your mouth. 

He cleared his throat. "Are you from Norfolk?"

You sighed deeply. "Unfortunately. You?"

"Virginia Beach."

You crinkled your nose and made a face that had him laughing again. "That might be even worse. You still live there?"

"For now," he replied. "I'm waiting on a new work assignment."

"Can I tell you a secret?" you asked, and when Bradley nodded, you coaxed him closer with your finger. Gorgeous. You were so pretty, Bradley was afraid he wouldn't be able to comprehend your words this close to your eyelashes and your mouth. "I escaped. I live in San Diego now."

"Bravo," he whispered, but he knew you could still hear him over the jukebox as it played Slow Ride. "What's it like to escape Virginia? I've only ever read about it in works of fiction. I've never met anyone who actually managed to do it."

You laughed again, and Bradley had to fight the urge to kiss you. He didn't even know your fucking name, but he was dying to feel your lips on his. 

"It wasn't easy," you promised. "Oh, no, my friend, it was not easy. My whole family still lives here, in Norfolk. My brother is in the damn Navy, if you can believe that. What a waste of a career, right?" you said with a massive eye roll. Bradley opened his mouth to respond, but you added, "Today is his birthday. Born on the Fourth of July, in the military, model citizen. I come home for his birthday every year and end up in this shitty bar every year." 

Bradley couldn't contain his smile. "I'm in the Navy."

Your eyes went wide. "Oh, shit. The Navy is the best!" you said brightly. "Oh boy, do I ever wish I had joined the Navy!"

Bradley tipped his head back and laughed harder. "I like you. You're brutally honest," he said, still laughing as you bit your lip, unable to stop smiling. 

"I'm so sorry," you said, trying not to laugh. "Come here. Let me buy you another beer to make up for the fact that you're in the Navy, you poor thing."

Bradley just shook his head, but then you took his hand in yours and gently led him to the bar. And you kept your hand linked with his while you ordered two drinks. But when you started to reach into your pocket to pay, Bradley took both of your hands in his larger one, and you looked up at him, surprised. 

"I've got it," he told you, pulling some cash out of his own pocket. "It's not every day you meet a celebrity."

"Celebrity?" you asked, and he pulled you closer by both hands. 

"You escaped Virginia! Buying you a drink would have to give me good karma! Who knows, maybe I'll even get stationed somewhere new." 

Bradley released your hands when the beers arrived, but you didn't move away from him. "Where do you want to get stationed?" you asked, and Bradley couldn't look away from the curve of your lips as you took the first sip from the bottle. 

"Somewhere warm," he told you. "But I guess I could learn how to brave some cold weather if I had to."

When the woman behind you bumped into you, Bradley could feel the warmth from your body through his clothes. You were that close. He wanted you closer. And then you were snug up against the front of him. "Well, I think you're brave," you told him with wide, teasing eyes.

"Because I'm in the Navy?" he asked, taking a sip of his beer as you shook your head. 

"No," you told him with a soft laugh. "Because you dare to sport a mustache. Almost nobody can pull that off." Now you were giggling as he ran his fingers along his facial hair. 

"I think you're having a lot of fun at my expense here tonight," he told you. "I think you like me."

You were quiet for a few seconds, and Bradley's heart beat a little faster when you said, "I think you like me, too."

"What's not to like?" he whispered, and your eyes fluttered closed as he ran his fingers along your cheek. "You stole my song. You hate my job. You made fun of my facial hair. And you managed to hijack my escape from this state, because surely the odds of two of us getting out are just too high."

And then you kissed him. Just a soft brush of your lips to his. But it was perfect. And then the fireworks started outside, but you stayed right there with him, your hand coming to rest on his chest. 

Everyone else rushed out to the deck or down along the water to watch the colorful display, even the bartender. But you didn't move an inch, and now Bradley was setting down his beer. This time he kissed you, and you nibbled on his lower lip as your other hand tangled in his hair. Bradley's hands went to your waist, as he tasted you. Beer and something kind of sweet. 

"What's your name?" Bradley asked between kisses, and when you told him, the sound of it echoed through his mind. He whispered it back to you, against your lips as you dragged your fingernails along his scalp. "I'm Bradley."

"Hi, Bradley," you said with a smile between kisses. "I'm sorry I stole your song. And I actually think your mustache is cute."

He was smiling so much against your neck as he kissed you there. "I'm really happy I came to this shitty bar tonight."

"Me too," you gasped as he sucked on you there before returning his lips to yours. These hurried, needy kisses turned more languid as they slowed down. You had pushed Bradley back onto an empty stool, your palms on his splayed thighs as he stroked your neck and face while you kissed. Every little moan and gasp had him coaxing you closer, and then the fireworks ended. The other patrons started trickling back into the bar as your lips nudged his in one final kiss. 

You pulled away from him, smiling and sliding your hands down to his knees. He leaned a little close to your face, ready to beg for one more kiss as he said, "Please, let me have your phone number."

You leaned in and kissed the corner or his lips before you backed away. Bradley was up out of the stool, chasing the warmth of your body, but you shook your head.

"That's not a good idea," you told him, gently pressing your palm to his chest, and it took you a few beats to meet his eyes. "And make you pine for me from afar?" you asked with a soft, teasing smile. "I couldn't live with that."

Bradley whispered your name about a dozen times in a row until your eyes closed. He kissed you softly and said, "I'm pretty sure I'll be doing that anyway. Pining for you."

You looked up at him, gaze darting between his lips and his eyes, almost like you were about to cave. But you shook your head and said, "You'll forget all about me by tomorrow."

Then someone called your name from the other side of the bar and stole your attention from him. And Bradley felt all the perfect flirtation and banter and kisses slipping through his grasp. 

"I need to go," you told him, and you looked so sad. "I hope you escape Virginia."

He nodded slightly, running his thumb across your soft cheek one more time. "I know this sounds weird, but I'm going to miss you."

And then you kissed him again, as if you understood exactly what he meant. And then you were gone. 

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

Bradley thought about you a lot. Sometimes he let your name grace his tongue with the sweet feel of it. Sometimes he would daydream about your laugh. But the moment he opened his mail in late August and read the line detailing the location of his new station, a slew of obscenities flew out of his mouth. 

San Diego. He was going to be stationed in San Diego. 

And he had no idea how to reach you. He only knew your first name. But he spent his first few months there hopeful that he would run into you somewhere. So he visited different grocery stores. He took different running tails. He went to the mall across town once. And each time he did one of those things, he felt ridiculous. Stupid. Idiotic. Until he remembered your smile and the way you made him feel so good while also poking fun at him. 

As the months wore on, he went on dates and kissed other girls, but he still thought about you sometimes. When he listened to Jerry Lee Lewis, he pictured you singing into your beer bottle. When he drank a cheap beer, he could almost hear your laugh. 

You had told him that you go to that same shitty bar every year on your brother's birthday. But just as Bradley purchased tickets for a roundtrip flight from San Diego to Norfolk, he realized you probably didn't even remember him. What was he going to do? Walk into that bar and tell you he missed you? You'd look at him like he was insane. Or worse, like you had no fucking clue who he was. 

He thought about not going. Just letting the tickets go to waste. But at the very least, he would be able to visit his cousins for the night. At the very least, he might just be able to see you again, just for a minute. 

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

You sat at the bar, across the room from your brother. You didn't know why you still bothered to come home for the weekend every year, but here you were. In Norfolk. Again. 

As politely as you could, you turned down the red headed guy who tried to buy you a drink. And you did the same thing to the blond, too. Because now you associated this shithole bar with wavy, sandy brown hair and big, brown puppy eyes. And you weren't about to override your memories from one year ago with some random loser who wanted to buy you a can of Miller Lite. 

You hoped Bradley was currently stationed somewhere warm, near a beach. It always made you smile to picture him with his feet in the sand, drinking a beer.

Your head swiveled to the jukebox as soon as you heard the opening piano chords of Great Balls of Fire playing, but there was just an older woman standing there snapping her fingers. 

Your heart sank a bit as you settled back into your stool and sipped your beer. It would have been too good to be true, and you were ridiculous for even entertaining the thought. But then that raspy voice was behind you, saying your name and making goosebumps break out all across your skin.

When you turned and met his warm eyes, your mouth fell open. He was here. And he looked so handsome and nervous. And your heart was hammering too hard, making it difficult to talk. 

"I don't know if you remember me," he said softly, looking at your face like you were the most precious thing he had ever seen. "But-"

"Bradley! How could I forget?" you breathed, and you watched his smile grow. "I was hoping you'd escape Virginia."

He laughed, and you wanted to kiss his mustache again. "I did. And I've been looking for you for ten months."

You leaned in a little closer and grinned. "Well I've been in San Diego."

"Me too," he said, and you tilted your head in question, but he just smiled more. "That's where I've been stationed since September."

"Oh!" you gasped. "You escaped to my city!"

"Mmhmm. And you made me come all the way back to shitty Norfolk, Virginia to find you."

You laughed. "You came back here for me?"

He nodded and stroked his fingers across your cheek just the way you remembered. "Yes. All I could think about was the way you told me you come here every year on this day. So I've been waiting months for the chance to try to see you again."

"That's really romantic," you told him, letting your palm come to rest on his chest. 

He covered it with his as he said, "My full name is Bradley Bradshaw. I live in Coronado, California on Pomona Avenue. And if you're single, I'm not leaving here without your phone number."

You were clamoring off your stool before he even finished talking, and he welcomed you into his arms. And then you kissed him, just like you had a year ago, his body warm and perfect against yours. You told him your full name between kisses, running your fingers through his hair and melting into him. "And yes, you can have my phone number, Bradley Bradshaw." 

He sighed against your cheek. "Even though I've been pining for you from afar?"

You laughed, remembering what you'd told him last year. "Apparently you've been pining for me from nearby. And that just won't do. Because I've thought about you... about the guy with the cute mustache who acted like he owns Jerry Lee Lewis's music catalog. About the only guy I ever kissed in the middle of a dive bar before I even knew his name," you whispered.

And then Bradley was kissing you again before he ended up sitting on the bar stool with you perched on his leg. He gave you his phone so you could save your number for him, and you sat like that until last call, just talking and laughing and occasionally kissing with the promise of more to come. 

When you got back to your parents' house with your brother, your phone illuminated with a new text message. 

Bradley Bradshaw: Meet me in San Diego.

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

They were both pining from afar! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls for putting up with me.

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[especiallythewomenandthechildren]

As If Destiny

A/N: I too have fallen ill to the widespread disease that is young snow 😮‍💨 like him being so fine is so unnecessary. Some quick notes: I've never actually written a fic on here nor a reader one in general so please deal with me! Also I wrote out this whole thing, posted it, then it went into oblivion and I had to rewrite it completely so I apologize! Please let me know if I should add anything or am missing certain details that seem necessary. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated, thank you loves❤️

Summary: You've always been kind hearted yet admirably defiant. Or that is at least one of the ways Coriolanus Snow would describe you. Ever since grade school, you have always been on the same level as him in academics and one of his few competitors for the Plinth Prize. But as tragedy struck your family, Coriolanus thought you would fall away from his life, but instead, you got even more intertwined (not to mention the complicated past knots tying your families together).

Warnings: Terminal illness, parent death, death and brutality (it is the hunger games after all) characters may be ooc. I read the book a while ago but don't really remember much of Snows way of thinking (I mean I know its toxic and insane but yk the other things) so I will mostly be basing off the film and my own thoughts. Also I can't spell for the life of me so be prepared for bad spelling and grammar. Enjoy loves!

Blood just kept on coming. And coming. And coming. Every violent cough shaking your mother's body was followed by spatters of hot, deep red blood. You quickly tried to clean it up as soon as it came out to protect your mother's dignity and to make sure she didn't choke. It took a few minutes, but the coughing session passed and your mother took deep gulps of water, fighting off your attempt to get her to slow down.

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With her engrossed in her cup, you steal a glance at the clock on the wall. As the time for the start of classes nears, the more axinety builds in your chest. Your mother follows your gaze and smiles warmly.

"Run along my little scholar. I will be fine and even better knowing you are sticking your nose in every textbook you can find."

She says in a hoarse voice. You smile slightly and lightly laugh. "That's not how school works, mom. I stick my nose into tissues because of how many textbooks I have to read ."

She rolls her eyes at your little comment and does a little motion gesturing you should be on your way. Shaking your head, you retorted "I still have half an hour till classes begin and I have plenty of time for Rhayen (your driver) to take me to the academy."

You attempt to assure her. Though, it was now your mother's turn to shake her head.

"I know you prefer walking there, don't try to fool me now. You will come back after school and I will be fine. Don't worry, darling."

With a sigh, you stand up and dust off your rouge colored academy uniform and grab your bag. You give your mother a soft kiss on her temple and steal one more glance at the clock. You rush through the halls and down the stairs of your luxurious apartment. The academy wasn't too far from your home, so you could enjoy the walk and the early spring air ruffling your hair.

You tried to smile and nod at the strangers walking past. You needed to clear your mind (distract yourself) so you examined every part of the high class society. Their eyes, faces, hair, clothing, and whatever else you could analyze. With this strategy, it doesn't take long untill the grand structure of the Capital academy to come into view.

As you near the school, you notice a certain curly haired boy sitting on the steps. You feel a sense of relief and pick up your pace. You stop infront of the boy, who seemed too engrossed into his book to notice your sudden appearance.

"Are you behind on the reading or are you being a bookworm?" You question.

He snaps his head up with his familiar smile. "Had some extra time and motivation, so thought I would trudge through this absolute -"

You nudge him with your shoulder to motion to stop talking.

"Yeah yeah I know but be careful: Professor Rhaen always spawns out of nowhere and I would personally prefer if you were not on the receiving end of one of his lectures."

Everyone knew how hard it was to please your professor and how strict your he was. Especially with Sejanus.

He didn't care about his money: professor Rhaen still felt Sejanus was lesser because he was born in the districts.

That sentiment is widely shared with your classmates. From the first day, when little kind hearted Sejanus came to the capital, he was met with stares and whispers. You specifically remember Arachne snubbing the boy. But when lunch came and he sat all alone, seemingly dejected, you sauntered over to his table. Then, just like now, his brown eyes widened in surprise. You smiled and sat down in the chair across from him.

"What's your favorite smell?"

He just stared at you for a while. who asks that. The silence continued untill you got too impatient, a trait you still struggle with, and answer your own question.

"Mine is vanilla because it smells like the sweet cakes my mom makes on special occasions or even sometimes when she is in a really good mood."

A smell that has slowly been creeping its way back into your life after the war. He laughed at your confession and replied that his was lavender, the smell of his mother, or as he calls her, ma.

He was still warry as why you were sitting with him. It was clear you were well liked by your peers and teachers and always seemed to posses the right answers, exemplified in your shared morning classes. But as you both continued your meal and conversation, he felt as if he had been sent an angel that day.

"There's that smile, I've missed it." Sejanus says, breaking you out of your reminiscence.

You duck your head down in some sort of embarrassment and shame. It felt wrong to be smiling and laughing nowadays, especially with the worsening of your mother's condition.

Noticing your reaction and following your train of thought, Sejanus tried to backtrack.

"I didn't mean it like that, Y/N! I'm sorry, you've been suffering and here I am saying stuff like that. I- I- wow I'm such an idiot! I'm truly sorry."

You look up to his genuinely defated and apolgetic face. "You have no reason to be sorry, it's okay. And it's not like I'm the one suffering. I can walk, talk normally, and am not coughing up blood while my face pales and hollows." You say solemnly.

Sejanus opened his mouth to question but was cut off as you both reached your destination. It was best not to discuss your mother's condition around your gossip privy peers around.

You walk to your desks and switch to the topic of later tonight, which you would be having dinner with the Plinths, an occurrence that is becoming more and more often. The last few of your classmates filled in, including Arachne, Clemensia, Festus, and Felix.

A few paces later comes in the charming and handsome Coriolanus Snow. You wouldn't be embarrassed to admit that description, any girl with eyes would agree. With that ever plastered, neutral yet calculated expression on his face, he quickly made his way to his seat, on the other side of you.

He wasn't necessarily friends with you or even Sejanus, but he was far kinder to him than the others were. That's probably one of the many aspects that makes him more appealing. You definitely didn't have a crush on him, but you have zoned out on his side profile once or twice.

Hey, you can't blame a girl!

Well that was your excuse to Sejanus, who caught you seconds in on staring at the blonde. But that was a long time ago. Now you were always zoned out on her.

That's exactly where your mind drifted to as Professor Rhaen began his lecture on the reading assigned. And it stayed there untill the sound of a pen hitting the marble floor brought you back.

You thought it could have been you, especially in your state of hazy focus and sleep deprivation. But taking a quick look at your feet, it was Coriolanus's.

Perfect and proper Coriolanus. Huh.

You hastily grab it and give it back to him, which he accepts with a small greatful smile. A smile that quickly turns into a look of concern.

He grabs your wrist and began examining it. You were stunned and curious what he was looking at until you noticed the deep and clear blood on your wrist, clear even on your deep red uniform.

You must have gotten it when taking care of your mother! You were mentally kicking yourself for being so careless.

"Your bleeding!" He states worridly. He quickly grabs a handkerchief from his bag and attempts to put it on your wrist, but you snap it away from his hold.

You noticed the initials on the white handkerchief. It was his father's. You certainly weren't going to stain such an item of sentiment with blood that wasn't even yours. Her blood.

He was moving to grab your wrist once again but was interrupted by the clear nosies of irritation and frustration of your classmates.

While you and Snow were having your little debacle, Professor Rhaen assigned an extensive research paper that will be due in two months. You understood your peers frustration, the longer you had in this class for an assignment, the more work and harsher the grading will be. But you were greatful for this assignment. It would be a wonderful distraction.

You took a quick look around to gage their reactions and saw Arachne's scowl which made you inwardly chuckle at her expression. But when you came back around to Coriolanus, you saw him still staring at with you a questioning expression.

Questions he would be unable to voice as the bell rang to signal the end of the first period. He tried to stop you or slow you down, but you were extremely focused on getting your materials in your bag and getting out of the intense stare of the blonde.

Sejanus noticed your haste and helped you out, while Snow was attempting to catch up, handkerchief still in hand. But you sped out and straight to the bathroom to wash off the blood covering your hands.

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A/N: Sorry to cut it off here! I felt this was already so long (future me after doing some revisions and having some actual writing under my belt - no it's not.), but don't worry I plan on posting again soon! I am excited to see where this is going I hope you all are too!

[python333]

I love your writings sm. And I love the way you write platonic stuff with task force 141 😋

You can ignore this if ya want but I just can't get over reader angst. Honestly atp I starve for angst. Could you feed us another angst fic? Like platonic 141 with a reader where she maybe got pretty badly injured while being on a mission? :3

AND. don't forget to stay hydrated and eat well!! Take any breaks you need 😌.

(sorry if this doesn't make sense English is not my native language 🥲)

below zero — python333

— — — —

synopsis u get thrown into a freezer after refusing to give up intel to enemy soldiers, and u get thrown into a freezer, and ghost comes and saves u :3

relationships platonic!ghost & gn!reader.

characters ghost.

word count 5.2k

warnings hypothermia, disorientation, 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [code name/call sign].

note hi anon thank u so much for all the compliments!!! before i say anything else, i wanna point out that i 1) only really wrote ghost into this and 2) literally read the request completely wrong and i think im actually just illiterate because how did i mess up this bad. ALSO hi its been a month since i posted on here i swear i'm still alive i'm just super busy with school!! updates are going to be extremely slow, so i apologize in advance. still, i hope u enjoy it anyways tho!! its all hurt/comfort + angst/fluff + protective/soft ghost :3

When you were thrown into the freezer, the first thing you noticed were the bodies. 

There’s ten that you can immediately see, and twelve once you look a little bit closer. All of them are suspended from the ceiling, each hanging from their ankle—with said ankle being held up by a meat hook. 

When the door had been closed shut with a loud, booming thump you hadn’t felt any immediate fear. But now, as you’re sitting in the corner of the freezer you’d been trapped in—the corner farthest away from any bodies—that fear is starting to set in.

Before this, only a few minutes ago, you were being interrogated. Your captors were asking for information on the details of any upcoming missions, objectives, target locations, anything that you had about the 141 that you could share with them, they wanted. 

Of course, you didn’t say anything. You remained silent throughout the entire thing, not talking once, even when at the end of the whole thing your interrogator slammed his hand down onto the table you were sat down in front of and yelled at you to say anything. 

When he and his team figured out that you wouldn’t give them any information, you remember he muttered something unintelligible under his breath and swiftly walked over to your end of the table. He had uncuffed your ankles from the legs of the chair you were sitting down on and uncuffed your wrists from the table, and before you could fight back, he grabbed both of your wrists with one hand and dragged you behind him. 

Then, he led you to the freezer you were trapped in now, and threw you in roughly before shutting the door behind you. You had hit and scratched at the door for a good minute after being thrown in, and after you figured that it was a waste of time trying to do so, you sighed and retired to the corner.

Now, as you’re huddled in the corner, you kind of regret not giving them the intel they needed. 

The freezer wasn’t too bad at first—you thought you’d last pretty long in there, and mentally called all the dead bodies hung from meat hooks in there pussies and simply walked around for a bit. The walking helped warm you up a bit, but soon it got tiring, and you retired to the corner farthest away from any dead bodies. 

You think the freezer is below zero degrees—no, has to be below zero, because now, just about five minutes after being thrown in, violent shivers have started to wrack your body and you swear you can’t feel your lips anymore. You haven’t been able to feel any sort of warmth in the past four minutes, all of it disappearing within the first. 

And God, the smell. The smell of frozen, rotting flesh really isn’t something you ever want to smell again. Thankfully, there’s no live flies in the freezer—all of them had died of the severe cold, creating small black circles under each hanging body where they died. 

You currently have your knees up to your chest with your hands trapped in between your thighs to try and keep them warm at least, with your forehead resting on the top of one of your knees. It’s working, kind of. The palms and backs of your hands feel just warm enough to not be considered cold, but the tips of your fingers are so cold they’re beginning to burn. 

You pull them back a bit to trap your fingertips in between your thighs, exposing the area where your wrist and hand meet to the cold, sighing as your fingertips warm up just a bit. Your thighs, thankfully, still have some heat trapped in between them, and you think your stomach is still somewhat warm. 

Around ten minutes later, you feel the heat trapped in your thighs start to dissipate. Fucking fantastic. You sigh and let your head tilt back, the back of it hitting the wall behind you, making you wince at the cold metal directly on your head. The cold seems to crawl through your hair and make it to your scalp, small pinpricks of the cold spreading throughout your scalp and the back of your neck. 

You’re reminded of just how cold it is then, of how this is quite literally a freezer, and of how said freezer has already claimed twelve lives. Or, at least, has housed twelve dead bodies and several unfortunate flies.

Just then, the fear finally starts to set in. 

At first, you weren’t all too worried about being saved—you figured you’d be found soon enough, since your team has a general idea of where you are. But the more you think about it, the more your brain emphasizes the general part of general idea. You start to think about how they don’t know any specifics. 

Sure, they know that you were captured, and that you were being held in some small part of Italy, and the people who captured you—but what did they know beyond that? Did they know your exact location? How long would it take them to figure it out? And how long would it take them to get here? 

Would you even be alive by the time they got here, if they ever did?

You notice your teeth starting to make an annoying chattering noise and you bite down to stop them. The violent shivers that wrack your body don’t help, the intense trembling only succeeding in making you more anxious. You start to become hyper aware of the cold that crawls onto your back from the freezing metal you’re leaning back on, and you quickly push yourself just a foot away from it so that it no longer bothers you. 

Your feet are starting to feel numb, you don’t think you’d be able to stand on them anymore if you tried, for you fear you’d just stumble and fall down. You look around the small freezer. There’s nothing that could help you get out—there’s only the bodies suspended from the ceiling and the dead flies that surround them. 

You’re glad none of the bodies are facing you—you don’t know what you would do if you had to sit in the corner with a bunch of dead bodies staring at you with their vacant, frozen-over eyes. Thinking about the eyes makes your own water, and you blink away the small tears that’ve gathered on your waterline. 

You can’t feel them, but you see the tears that were once in your eyes now clumping together on your eyelashes, making your brows furrow. With them starting to cling to your eyelashes comes blurriness for the top half of whatever you can see. You sigh, a white puff of condensation hanging in the air as evidence of your exhale, and move your hand out from in between your thighs to wipe away the tears from your lashes haphazardly. 

You don’t bother to put your hand back in between your thighs, instead just resting it on top of your knee. Despite it only having been around fifteen minutes since you were thrown into the freezer, you’re starting to feel more fatigued and your breath slows down significantly, as does your heartbeat. 

Another ten minutes of doing nothing but staring at the wall opposite of your own pass by, and disorientation is starting to set in. You feel oddly forgetful—like at times, you forget how you even got into the freezer, and have to wrack your brain to remember that you literally got thrown into it and are now trapped in here until someone rescues you. Assuming they do. Who was it that would even rescue you? 

You think long and hard for a few seconds, and can scrounge up nothing from your confused mind. You let out a frustrated huff and let your head tilt and fall forward so that your forehead is resting atop your knee, another shiver ripping through your frame. It almost feels like it’s getting colder in the fridge. 

Suddenly, you hear a loud banging noise—albeit, it sounded more muffled to your ears, but you could tell it was loud—and guns being fired. 

You can’t really tell when the gunfire dies down, but you can tell when the thumping of someone’s boots grows louder and closer to the door of the freezer. You try to stand up, not really knowing why since you’re in no condition to fight, having been in a freezer for about forty minutes, but you still attempt to. 

You find that standing is extremely difficult after practically being frozen alive for the past forty minutes, because as soon as you try to even push yourself off of the ground with your shaky hands, you discover that you aren’t even strong enough to push yourself up a single inch before having to stop. As well as that, you find that the ground is just as freezing as the walls and air of the freezer, because your hands now ached with frostbite. 

The action causes an unexpected wave of exhaustion to roll over you, and you pant to try and catch your breath, breathing white puffs of condensation out into the air. 

You hear a loud bang against the door, and jump at the sound, your head whipping towards the door. You hear another loud noise, and the confused fog that’s taken over your mind only grows thicker, your disorientation only growing stronger with it. The room feels like it’s spinning, and the feeling reminds you of a word, and you know what the word is, but fuck, why don’t you know it at the same time? Why can’t I remember anything? 

There’s another bang, and you hear muffled cursing before suddenly the door bursts open, a man wearing a skull mask stumbling in after it does so—he probably ran into it to open it, you think, watching the man get his balance back. He looks around for a moment before his eyes land on you, and the moment they do, you finally remember something. 

That’s Ghost. 

Somewhere in your confusion-clouded mind, you’re happy that you’ve finally remembered something. But right now, you can’t really think about anything—your mind is blank, and you can barely even process what you’re seeing. 

You’re so caught up in thinking about the fact that you aren’t really thinking, you’re just focusing a little more on whatever’s going on in your mind and not actually retaining any of it, that you don’t even notice Ghost rushing towards you and kneeling down right next to you. 

He pauses for a moment, but after a second he makes the decision to put one hand behind your back and snake one under your legs, the warm physical touch making you wince. Not that you didn’t like the warmth—you just didn’t like the sudden temperature change beneath your knees and across your back.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” Ghost grunts as he picks you up, one arm under your knees and the other behind your back, lifting you up into a sort of bridal carry. He nearly drops you because of how cold your skin is—for a moment he thinks your back and legs are wet, then he realizes that no, they aren’t wet, you’re just really fucking cold. 

He takes a moment to make sure you’re secure in his arms before tilting his head to the side, all the way down to his shoulder, and muttering something into his earpiece. Despite being so close to him, his voice only sounds muffled to you—in all honesty, just about everything is starting to sound more muffled to you. You can only tell he’s done talking because he lifts his head back up and readjusts his arms around you, before walking out the busted-open door. 

The walking quickly turns into running, which then turns into sprinting, making your surroundings go blurry and makes your vertigo worse—it almost feels like you’re falling. You’re grateful you haven’t eaten anything in the past few hours, because you fear that if you had, you would’ve thrown it all up by now. All you can see are blurred colors—the hallways, you vaguely remember, because I’m in a building. How’d I even get here? Why am I here? You’re pulled out of your confused thoughts when you’re set down on the ground somewhere, and forced into a lying position with your limbs all outstretched. When you slowly blink up at what you thought was the ceiling, you’re both surprised and not surprised when you see the blue-black night sky. 

Not sure of what’s going on, you try to get up, but Ghost quickly pushes you back down, muttering something under his breath. He pauses for a moment, his blurred figure stopping any and all movements, before he suddenly picks you back up, making you wince at the way your head spins at the sudden movement. You hear a quiet, muffled—but clearer than before—’sorry’ from Ghost before he’s running again. 

It’s a much shorter distance this time, and instead of immediately setting you down, you hear something click and suddenly you hear another muffled voice. They sound concerned, you mentally note, Or maybe confused. Maybe both, actually. No yeah, definitely both. Well, now just concerned. Or maybe that’s confused. 

Caught up in your confused thoughts, you don’t realize that you’re being set down on a few comfy seats. You aren’t pulled away from your own thoughts until you feel two warm hands cupping either side of your jaw, and hear Ghost’s oddly distressed voice becoming more clear by the second. You now acknowledge the weird ringing in your ears that almost drown out the sound of Ghost, and struggle to figure out what he’s saying through the annoying noise. 

“—something,” You catch the end of Ghost’s sentence, and blink up at him slowly. 

“Huh?” You elegantly ask, coughing and wincing at your hoarse voice, not knowing how it got so hoarse—or why it hurt so much to talk. Your throat almost felt like it was burning, but it also felt oddly numb, a sensation you couldn’t quite put a name on. 

“Oh my god,” Ghost sighs, his forehead falling onto your chest momentarily as he takes a few deep breaths. He brings his head back up from your chest and says, “I almost thought you were dead when I got in there. Jesus, you look dead. I need to— I need to get something, a blanket or— why the fuck don’t we carry any heat packs or anything in here? Swear to God, I’m gonna—” You don’t pay too much attention to Ghost’s panicked ranting and shift your head to the side to try and look at where you are, and you discover that you’re in a car. Oh. Cool. You spot the door on the passenger seat’s side still open and swinging a bit, as if it’d been opened quickly just a few moments earlier for someone to quickly get out. 

Ghost suddenly backs up and gets out of the car, though staying within a foot of it, looking around for a moment before heading to the back of the car. Your head clears up the tiniest bit, just enough for you to be able to assume that he’s heading to the back of the car to get to the trunk for whatever reason, and you simply lie there on the seat cushions. 

A few seconds later, Ghost comes back with a somewhat-fluffy jacket, and carefully gets into the car—half kneeling down so that he doesn’t need to lean on the seats to get to you. He tosses the coat over your chest, and it does absolutely nothing at first, at least not until Ghost gets a bit closer and tucks the coat tighter around you, treating it like a blanket. Then, it starts to warm you up just the tiniest bit. Beyond that, it does absolutely nothing. But props to Ghost for at least trying. 

He quickly backs out of the car and once he’s out he closes the door behind him, and you want to get up for a moment, just to go see what he’s doing, but you don’t have to. He gets into the car again, this time in the driver’s seat, and he turns on the ignition. Once the car rumbles to life, he immediately turns up the heat and leans over to the passenger seat’s side in order to close the door, and with a grunt he manages to do so. 

The newfound heat makes you shiver, and it almost feels like you’re in a microwave defrosting. Distracted by the sudden temperature change, you don’t pay attention to what Ghost is saying into his earpiece as he glances out the front window of the car and back at you. You simply tug the jacket tighter around your torso and relish in the warmth. 

“—ay. So we’ll just leave then, and you’ll be fine?” You pick up from Ghost’s conversation, perking up at the mention of leaving, “Copy that, Captain. I’ll get them back to base.”

‘Captain’—Oh, he’s talking to Price—says something that makes Ghost sigh exasperatedly and take his index finger off of his earpiece, instead settling both of his hands on the steering wheel of the car and stealing one last glance at you before setting his eyes on the gravel ahead of him and pushing down on the gas pedal.

— 

When you wake up, you’re significantly warmer than you were… however-long-it’s-been-ago. 

You look to your left and see nothing but a white wall and a heart rate monitor—which displays that your heart rate is 115—then to your right, where you see Ghost sitting in a plastic chair close to the bed you’re laying in, eyes closed with his head tilted to the side and resting on his own shoulder.

You don’t bother trying to wake him up, not knowing how long he’s been asleep or how much sleep he’s gotten, and instead simply turn your head back to stare up at the ceiling. 

After maybe five minutes of zoning out and staring up at the ceiling, you hear clothes rustling and look back over to your right, seeing Ghost start to stir in his sleep. Just a few seconds later, he stirs awake, slowly blinking his eyes open. 

You watch silently as he blinks the sleep out of his eyes, and he breathes in sharply through his nose before looking over at you and seeing you staring at him wordlessly. You both blink at each other for a long, awkward moment before he speaks. 

“… Did you, uh… how was your… rest?” Ghost asks, not sure what to say. What exactly do you say, after saving one of your teammates from potential death?

“Good,” You respond, your throat having an odd, small burning sensation when you talk. 

Ghost looks like he’s holding back a few words for a moment after you speak, and after one expectant look from you, he mumbles, “You should really say ‘well’ or ‘fine’ instead. It’d be more grammatically accurate and is more grammatically aligned with the verb ‘rest’.” 

“… Okay?” You blink, thrown off by the unexpected information, “I’ll, uh… keep that in mind, next time someone asks me how my rest was.” 

“You get asked that often?” 

“I only get asked that by you.” 

“Ah.” Ghost nods, looking off to the side for a moment. You’d think he was your dad and you’d just asked him how babies were made with how awkward he was, and you honestly expected the next words out of his mouth to be ‘when a man and a woman love each other very much’ before he hesitantly asks, “D’you feel better? After the whole being-trapped-in-a-freezer… experience?” 

“Experience?” You question, a light laugh evident in your voice, “Yeah, I feel better. I like being warm more than, y’know, being frozen alive. Laying down in a warm bed is nice.”

“I didn’t know how else to phrase it,” Ghost huffs out, leaning back in his seat. 

“So you’re gonna correct me on my grammar but you can’t think of a better word than ‘experience’?” 

“Don’t get smart with me, [c/n].” 

“I’m just saying,” You shrug lightly, wincing a little when your shoulders ache as you do. Ghost notices this and his eyes narrow, but he doesn’t mention it. 

“Then stop trying to sass me.” 

“Sass you? Jesus, fuck, don’t talk to me like I’m some preteen who just found out that they can talk back to their parents.” 

“Isn’t that what you are, though?” 

“No, I’m— you know what? Fuck you. Get out. I hate you. You suck.” 

“That’s a colorful choice of words to say to the man who saved your life,” Ghost raises an eyebrow at you, “I’m still waiting for my ‘thank you’, by the way.” 

“Don’t care, you’re never getting it,” You say stubbornly, making Ghost sigh and stand up. You look up at him as he stands up and try to sit up in your bed, but wince again when you try to move your arms. Still, you attempt to push yourself up, and only relax your weak joints and lay back down when Ghost presses a gentle hand to your shoulder to get you to stop trying to sit up. 

“Don’t,” He warns softly—you didn’t know his voice could get that soft—as he pushes you back down, “Medics said you’re to keep laying down for a bit while you warm up. We’ve gotta wait until your BPM is below a hundred before letting you up.” 

“That’s stupid,” You huff out, though not fighting Ghost pushing you back down. 

“It’s not stupid,” Ghost lightly chastises you, “It’s doctor’s orders. Once your BPM is below a hundred, we’ll know you’re warmed up enough to start gettin’ up and walking around.” 

“… Still stupid,” You grumble, not commenting on the way Ghost’s hand lingers on your shoulder even after you’ve already laid back down. Ghost sighs and kneels down so that his shoulders are level with the railing of your bed. 

“You’re too stubborn.” 

“I’m not.” 

“Yes you are.” 

“No I’m not!” Your light arguing only proves Ghost’s point further, and he knows this, the knowledge of it making him snicker quietly. 

“Uh huh. Sure, kid,” He begins to retract his hand from your shoulder, but upon seeing the disappointment that immediately seeps into your expression once he even barely begins to lift his hand from your shoulder, he immediately lets it rest right back onto your shoulder. 

You both sit in silence for another few moments before Ghost speaks up again, this time a bit quieter and in that same soft tone he’d used earlier, “I tried to get to you quicker. But we needed some time to get your exact location, and when we found it we were a hundred and sixty klicks away, and it was just—it took us… some time to find you.” 

“It’s fine. I understand,” You respond, about to shrug but stopping yourself, not wanting to feel that aching in your shoulders again, “I don’t even know how I let myself get captured, that— that’s probably on me.” 

“You didn’t let yourself get captured, you just did.” 

“Well…”

“Well, what?” 

“I don’t know, I just—” You take a deep breath before continuing slowly, “I didn’t let myself get captured, but I also didn’t do enough to fight against it, so I feel like technically—” 

“Fuck the technicalities about how you got captured, you got captured either way, and you got thrown into a freezer,” Ghost cuts you off, talking quickly, before sighing and continuing in a softer voice once again, “Please, just let me try to be somewhat comforting for once. You know I’m bad at this, and that I never do this. So just… don’t talk about what happened like that, if not for your own mental health’s sake, at least for my attempts at making you feel better.” 

You open your mouth to say something else but ultimately close your mouth and let out a deep sigh through your nose, not saying anything, letting Ghost continue to talk. 

“I, for whatever reason, feel… very oddly bad for you,” Ghost poorly explains, before pausing to think for a moment then rephrasing, “Not… not as in I pity you, but as in I feel bad for you in a way that I feel like I’m at fault for what you went through even though I know I’m not at fault. It’s like empathy but… worse. Not saying empathy is bad to begin with, but this is like if empathy was bad and it became worse and—” 

Ghost cuts himself off with silence and lets out a frustrated huff at his inability to put his feelings into words, and tries again, “I feel bad for you in a way that I don’t know what exactly you felt or how you felt in the moment that you were in that freezer but just the idea of you being in there without me for… I’m assuming an entire hour, if not longer, makes me feel like I failed. I don’t know what I failed at—”

Ghost quickly pauses before sighing and continuing, “Actually, no, I do. I feel like I failed at protecting you. Which is strange, because that’s technically not my job, but I felt—and still feel—obligated to protect you especially and that bothers me. Not bothers me in a sense that I don’t like you or the thought of… protecting you, but bothers me in the sense that I’m not supposed to feel like that. No amount of teasing, or borderline bullying, or anything should’ve ever made me feel obligated to think of you like— like— like…” Ghost trails off, leaving you wondering what he meant to say. He stays silent for a few moments, before you try to fill in for him. 

“Like… what, a kid?” You offer, watching him shake his head negatively. You think for another moment, before trying again, “… Like your kid?” 

Ghost nods affirmatively, hesitantly, and you want to scoff at the hesitation. 

“And what, that’s bad to you?” You ask, your words more venomous than you intended. Ghost sighs and nonverbally shakes his head negatively before responding to you.

“Not bad in the way you’re thinking,” He answers, before elaborating upon seeing your confused expression, “It’s bad not because you’re bad, it’s bad because I’m bad.” 

“… No you’re not?” 

“Yes, I am.” 

“No, you’re really not,” You insist stubbornly. 

“Please don’t be stubborn with me on this,” His tone makes it sound like he’s almost begging you, which is… somehow beyond terrifying to think about.  

“I’m not being stubborn, I’m being honest, you’re really not.” 

“But I am,” He sounds like he’s trying to make his tone sound like there’s no room for any further arguments, but he fails, and you continue to argue with him. 

“No you’re not!” The whole conversation feels like a parallel to the one you’d both been having just a few minutes earlier, except this time you’re not giving up as easily, “How are you bad?” 

“I’m—” Ghost pauses for a moment, not having expected that argument, and he weakly argues, “I just am!” 

“You’re not, and you fucking know it!” 

“Okay, well—” Ghost sighs and looks away from you, “You might not think so. That’s fine. But I know I am. If not for anything else, for you. I’d be… terrible as any sort of… I don’t know, role model to you.” 

“Jokes on you, you’re already a role model to me.” 

“I’m being serious.” 

“So am I,” You raise an eyebrow at him, “You aren’t a terrible role model. A little emo, sure, but not terrible.” 

“I’m emotionally and mentally unstable, and am terrible with empathy. I’m blunt, abrasive more than half the time, and I tell the shittiest jokes known to man. I can’t— I don’t show my face to anyone. I expect everyone to act the way I want them to. I’m almost always busy.” 

“At least you’re self-aware,” You brush off, “And, for the record, I don’t know what abrasive means and I can’t tell empathy from sympathy without using Google.” 

Ghost looks back at you in disbelief and stares for a moment before saying quietly, “Abrasive means harsh. And empathy is showing understanding for others while sympathy is pity.” 

“I also like your shitty jokes,” You add on, “I think they’re great. They make everyone else mad so I like them. And some of them are funny.” 

“You find them funny?” 

“Yeah?” 

“That’s…” Ghost blinks at you, eyes a little watery, before huffing out a small laugh, “That’s ridiculous, none of them are funny. I call them shitty for a reason.” 

“Some of them are pretty funny.” 

“Oh yeah? Like what?” 

“The Mayflower one.” 

“… That one?” Ghost asks, tone humorous but still disbelieving, “Out of all the ones I’ve told, that one?” 

“Yes, that one,” You insist, before pausing and holding back a smile while tacking on, “Unless you wanna tell it again to try and change my mind?” 

Ghost thinks for a moment before telling the joke, “If April showers bring May flowers, what do Mayflowers bring?” 

You feign cluelessness for a moment, “What do they bring?” 

“Pilgrims.” The bluntness of the delivery makes you quietly snicker, much to Ghost’s surprise, the laugh not forced or anything. 

“It’s still good,” You sigh, small giggles still escaping your lips. 

“It’s really not,” Ghost sighs, finally retracting his hand from your shoulder to settle it on the railing of your bed and use it to help himself stand up. Once he fully stands up, he looks down at you, and one look at your face makes him want to whisk you out of bed and at least hug you, but he knows he can’t with your sore muscles and still-somewhat frozen skin. 

Instead, he opts for grabbing one of your hands gently and giving it a very emotionally charged squeeze, and holding it for another few moments before letting go. 

“I’m not forgetting that, by the way,” At Ghost’s confused eyes, you tack on, “You confirming earlier that you think of me as your kid.” 

“That—” Ghost stammers for a moment before saying, “That was barely a confirmation, that was just— that was nothing.” 

“Oh really?” 

“Yes. Yeah. Yep.” 

“So if I told you that you saying that that was nothing is making me a little bit upset…” 

“… Then I would say, out of pity, that I did mean it and that it was a confirmation.” 

“Good to know,” You nod. 

“But that’s only a hypothetical.” 

“Right, yeah, of course.” 

You both stay silent for another moment, the silence now a little less awkward, before Ghost says, “I’m gonna, uh… head out, now.” 

“Alright,” You hum simply, watching as Ghost nods to you as a sort of ‘bye’ before heading towards the curtains in front of your bed. 

Before he can exit, you quickly and quietly say, “Thank you, for saving me.” 

He pauses, a little confused on why you chose now to thank him—and why you thanked him at all—until he quickly recalls earlier in the conversation when he’d mentioned expecting some words of gratitude. 

He smiles behind his mask, the smile evident in his voice as he replies to you, “No problem.”

[astraystayyh]

Snow on the beach

Hyunjin x reader. friends to lovers, but they've always known. implied soulmates.

this basically wrote itself nsbdbd as always feedback is highly appreciated <33 (if you can listen to Snow On The Beach by Taylor and Lana, do it!)

The ocean laps softly at your feet, and you watch its ebb and flow intently, admiring how each wave always knows precisely where to go- where to finally rest after a long journey of travels. 

This beach is your spot with Hyunjin. Not a secret one by any means, but one that feels yours because of all the memories you've shared here. The ocean has witnessed it all between the two of you.

"I will miss this," you sigh wistfully, and Hyunjin hums from beside you. He's watching the water too, legs tightly hugged to his chest, his cheek resting softly on his knee. 

You've grown up with Hyunjin right in front of this ocean. You weren't lovers but you weren't friends either. You were simply a mirror of one another. Every part of him found its reflection in you. 

"Me too. Remember when we first came here?" he chuckles softly at the distant memory and you smile to yourself. That was seven years ago. 

You are 15, stomping down the beach because you are angry at the world, just like every other teenager. You plop down on the sand and dig your hand into its warm particles. The soothing sensation grounds you and the sound of the waves drowns out your thoughts.  

"Hey," someone greets and you look up to find Hyunjin. He's your classmate in high school. You remember him in passing because you once dropped your pen and he picked it up for you without a word.  

"Hi," you greet back, shielding your eyes from the harsh sun rays with your hand. Hyunjin moves a bit to the side to block out the sun for you. You notice. 

"Mind if I sit with you?" he asks and you shrug, "Sure. But I don't feel like talking." 

"Me too. We can sit alone together." 

Paradoxal words, but you soon understand what he means by them. He's right next to you, but you're both lost in your own worlds. And yet his presence seems to have a calming effect on you. It feels comforting, to have someone exist with you without asking for anything in return.

"I do remember," you smile, turning back to look at the ocean. Your hand starts to pick up the sand once more, and Hyunjin does the same. Your pinkies brush against each other- it isn't the first time this happened. Touching Hyunjin has become second nature to you. 

You are 16, facing the ocean once again. Only this time tears are streaming down your eyes. 'Where are you?' you read in Hyunjin's text and you quickly write back 'Our spot'. He's there ten minutes later. He doesn't ask what's wrong, but his fingers are intertwined with yours and it's enough. It was the first time Hyunjin has grabbed your hand in. You haven't been the same since. 

"And now you're leaving me," Hyunjin teases, a glint of amusement shining brightly in his eyes. He knows you'd never leave. Even if you are no longer near him. 

"Mm, finally getting a break from you after 7 years," you joke as your fingers curl around his pinky, as his hand gently tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. You'll always be here. 

You're 17, and it's nearly midnight, and yet you and Hyunjin are still talking in front of the ocean- the waves drinking in each bit of your conversation.

It's cold and you shiver slightly from the breeze grazing your exposed arms. Hyunjin notices and opens his jacket wide for you, silently inviting you to seek warmth from him. You bury yourself in his chest, his arms coming around to encircle you.

Your ear settles directedly on top of his heart- the first time you listen to Hyunjin's heartbeat. But it feels familiar, as if it's been ringing within you from the moment you met.

"Can't believe you won't be here for my birthday," he pouts and you giggle, inching closer to him in the process.

You've celebrated your birthday together for the past seven years. You've known all his wishes, since he always shared them with you. He didn't care about the superstition that telling someone your wish prevented it from becoming a reality. He believed that you and he are one, so it was only natural to tell you. 

"I'll call you from the other side of the world." You were leaving, not for long, only a year. A work opportunity you couldn't pass on. And yet it felt weird and unnatural to be somewhere where Hyunjin wouldn't be. 

You are 18, and as you watch the waves fizzle out as they meet the shore, your head laying on Hyunjin's shoulder, a sudden realization dawns on you. 

You are an ocean wave soaring too close to the sky, fueled by emotions too raw, too powerful, to be guarded by your heart alone. But as you near Hyunjin, your waves falter, your steps halt. Your worries, your fears, and your anger are no longer forces to be reckoned with. Instead, they become harmless sea foam. A mere shell of what they once were. To you, Hyunjin is the shore, bringing you out of your darkness, welcoming you home. 

"You'll call at my midnight?" he asks, leaning his face closer toward yours. You could clearly see his moles now, the one under his eye, and the one on his cheek. They remind you of the ink of a poet that ended up drying on his face. Everything that made Hyunjin was poetry to you. 

"Missing me already?" you grin at him and his eyes soften at you. "I miss you even when you are with me." 

You are 19, and Hyunjin is laying his head on your lap, dried tear stains on his face. This isn't the first time you've seen Hyunjin cry. But it is the first he sobbed in your arms. It was an agonizing sight, one that made you realize just how far you care for him. His eyes were now closed, as you gently thread through his hair, your touch seemingly calming him down. 

"I think I'm your shore today," you whisper, your voice getting caught up with the wind and the crashing of waves. But Hyunjin catches it. He understands.

"I need to write you a list of reminders, since I won't be here to take care of you," you joke, brushing away his words as if they weren't now imprinted onto your heart.

"If I don't follow them will you come back?"

You are 20, and it's your birthday. You are naturally celebrating it at your spot at the beach. You are laughing loudly at a joke Hyunjin just said when your hand slips from beneath you, and you are suddenly thrown forward, your nose now brushing against his. Hyunjin stares deeply into your eyes, and it makes your heart clench- how unguarded he seems to be with you. So you lean in and place a chaste kiss on the mole adorning his cheek. You've always wanted to do that. 

"This is my birthday gift," you giggle and Hyunjin shakes his head, a crimson blush tinting his cheeks. 

"I'll always come back to you," you say quietly. 

You are 21 and it's snowing at the beach. The first time you've seen it happen in your entire existence. You watch in awe as dainty snowflakes coat the sand- a sight so mesmerizing it renders you speechless for a few moments. But despite the beauty unfolding around you, Hyunjin still only has his eyes on you. You are admiring the snow and he's admiring you. 

"And I'll always be here."

You are now twenty-two, and you are saying your goodbyes to your place at the beach with Hyunjin.

It happens naturally, the way Hyunjin finally tells you that he loves you, right where it had all started. This is the first time he's uttered those three words and yet it's as if you've been hearing them for the past seven years. 

"I love you," you say back, the confession flowing easily from your mouth because you've both always known. 

You've known each time you sat down here, in front of this ocean. Where every past version of yourselves confessed the way they knew best- through stolen glances and subtle touches and comforting words. Where you've slowly grown within ones another's soul, just like the rings of a tree.

[teenandbeyond]

Yautja x Fem.Reader

Edit: I see someone wants a part two, if ya'll get this to 200 notes by next Saturday, I'll totally do it. I'll give ya a little extra if you make it to any number higher than that, even by one. *genuinely intrigued about how this'll go* Edit 2: Here it is babes, Part 2, Part 3

I hear people are looking for this so, here. Also, this is my shitty attempt at a dark fic, because I wanna try one--even though it's faaaar from my regular style, I'm far from a darkfic writer, but I like challenges-- and it seems many people have been craving a dark fic of Yautja more than not, so I'll hopefully help y'all out (I wrote this when I was sleepy so idk how it was). *puts all smutty writing experience into this*

Want more from me? Ask or check out my Masterlist!

☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆

Breed (Predator)

Warning(s): Probably the smuttiest smut I've ever smutted, noncon details, breeding, rough, unprotected, a creamy little pie, size difference, triggers (so do not read if they apply to you), this turned long asf.

You survive with a Predator who killed all of your friends...but it seems the Yautja have taken an interest in you and don't plan to let you leave...

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

You groan out, tossing your head to the side.

What makes you realize you aren't in your bed is a few things.

There's an echo.

It feels like you're laying on a hard table.

Your wrists are bound to your chest.

Your ankles are weighed down by something heavy, which after moving around your toes you realize are cuffs connected by a chain, where most of the weight came from.

And most importantly, you can't see, you noticed as your lashes fluttered against a cloth.

"Where am I?"

"Above earth," an amused, disembodied voice responds.

A familiar voice, one of your friends.

"Ester...? I thought you died..."

"What you didn't see didn't happen."

"Hey, can you take this stuff off me?" you grunted as moved to shift your arms to no avail.

"Why would I do that? I put you there."

Your brows furrowed, "What?"

"You see. That whole thing was a setup, I was working with them this whole time."

"But why? They killed your friends! Our friends!"

She chuckled, "Oh, that's what you believed. I was just doing my job to survive. To find them the perfect specimen."

You grunted as you struggled and failed to loosen your restraints.

"You see, they've been for years, creating more advanced creatures to hunt. They've already tried to with another species, Xenomorphs--the ones that spit acid. But they wondered if they could try such a thing with humans..."

Your blood ran cold, "Please don't tell me..."

"They realized they could, they hunted for the perfect human, one who possessed certain genes that had a high percentage of handling a Yautja seed. And when one wanted to kill me after hunting all my allies a few years ago, I offered to do anything. Now I've found you."

"So-ugh--then what? They're just gonna let you go?"

"Well, my part of the deal is finished. There's no other use for me."

"Exactly, idiot," you muttered.

Suddenly you heard a loud thumping sound.

"Ah, here they come."

You moan in despair as you try to move, the cold metal biting against your ankles, "This is hopeless."

"Here's the human you left with, she's perfect, she's worthy of you due to her survival."

Yes, you remember.

Suddenly you found yourself helpless, the two...Xenomorphs you supposed, had terrorized your college class during your international trip to the Daintree Rainforest.

The other creature--the...Yautja had killed a few security guards and three of your friends. As you grew to understand this Predator, you realized it only killed something that seemed to be a challenge, everyone that was killed by it had a weapon at some point.

But you, you're a tough one. You survived, and the Yautja gave you weapons to aid it, you managed to kill a Xenomorph on your own.

You had enough education about tribal tradition to know when it smeared some of its excruciatingly burning blood on you, it found you worthy in a sense.

Or he, since as far as you know most creatures bred with the opposite sex.

"I can leave now, right? If you want I can tell you where I can be dropped off," Ester happily spoke up.

You heard a familiar sound slice through the air, his weapon.

"W-wait...what are you doing? I did what you--what you asked...No! No! No-!"

You heard a body thump and a strong smell of blood fill the air, you knew the smell with little effort after the last two days.

There was some shuffling, you guessed she was being dragged away to be dumped by another one of them.

Then the thumping footsteps started up again, getting closer. Until he stood next to your... examination table.

You tried to shift away, not being able to do much but hold yourself up and not fall halfway off the edge. Only for your arms to get tugged and move you back to the more comfortable position.

"Please...I can't--I can't provide you with anything."

You jumped as you felt a nail trail down your jaw before a scaly hand--that was still surprisingly smoother than you expected--gripped your chin, twisting your head left and right.

You couldn't help the shiver that ran down your spine.

A thumb brushed against the acid mark he gave you on your cheek.

The only sound you heard was a sharp grunt, in disapproval or satisfaction, you didn't know.

His thumb dragged across your lips before his hand went lower...

You stiffened when the wandering hand paused, before yelping at the sound of a blade moving through the air.

He slowly sliced through your long-sleeved shirt and bra, your breath hitched as you felt the cold metal graze your skin. If there was any more pressure, he would've sliced you open.

You let out a breathless sigh as the restricting bra released you. You hated bras sometimes.

You could feel him move and tried to shift away, only for him to catch you by your neck and slide you back into the position you were in.

With a quivering lip, you felt curious hands explore your breasts.

"Please, just let me go..."

You bit your lip at an experimental squeeze.

You couldn't seriously be reacting to this? Could you?

But when you felt something brush against your sensitive bud...

Your breathing skipped.

Another pause, before it was tested again.

Your hands tightened into fists.

Then without warning, he relentlessly rolled the hardened bud between his fingers.

With a whine, you tried to move away, only for his grip on your neck to tighten.

You tried to keep as much self-control as you could, but that changed a few minutes later when his hand moved, your stomach jumping as it came and went and stiffening as the hand stopped at the band of your pants.

"Please...don't..." you desperately pleaded.

There are a few seconds of dragging his thumb back and forth against your hip, as if deciding, but ultimately tearing it all off in one motion.

You squealed at suddenly being exposed, trying to clench your thighs together.

He denied you of this, effortlessly opening your thighs to expose for him to fully see.

You decided to be defiant as you felt him shift onto the table.

"This is--isn't going to work. Humans and Aliens aren't going to be able to--do this," you tried to move your legs, the heavy chain helping you none, "I'm not even remotely aroused--"

He interrupted you as you felt him lean closer to your wetness, feeling his breath hit the sensitive area.

The clicking sound he made almost sounded amused, before making you gasp as he rubbed a curious finger against you.

"Mm--stop--you--you can't--!"

Shuddering as a finger slid into you, you attempted to wriggle out of his hold. Only for his grip to tighten a little more, at this point, he was definitely warning you.

You felt embarrassed by the light squelching sound you heard. At least you didn't have to see.

Then two more were added.

"I can't--that's too much!" you cried out.

But when his wrist brushed against your cilt, your body completely surrendered.

He realized how greatly that affected you and decided to continue learning.

With a shaky breath, you desperately tried to hold back. Tried to deny your body's pleasure with your mind.

You clenched your thighs together at an attempt to stop his hand, but all it seemed to do was piss him off and force your legs apart, his originally slow and curious pace becoming rougher.

You bit your lip hard, keeping in any sounds.

But in the end, your body betrayed you, and with a long whine and bucking hips, you released.

He pulled his hand away and for a moment you thought he was done for now.

Until you felt something rubbing against you, something you could tell already wouldn't fit.

"That's not gonna--!"

You whimpered as he effortlessly slid in with a gravelly groan, the stretch stung.

"It's not gunna--It's not gunna...Take it out...."

Your head thumped back onto the table.

Without a break in movement, he kept moving, the chain connecting your ankles lightly clinking.

You let out a little sob as you bit your lip, you didn't know if it was from the violation or the pleasure, possibly both.

Every time he thrust forward, you could feel the stretch.

"It's gunna...gunna..."

He slid his hand up your throat just enough to push down the lip your teeth dug into with an index finger.

He wanted to hear you.

But with defiance, you swallowed every sound you made.

Until the speed changed, the cold metal rubbing against your back from the table, a stark contrast to the heat you felt.

Finally, he started getting little sounds out of you, whimpers, pleads.

Abruptly, he pulled away, leaving you empty, before easily moving the weighted chain that felt like a ton to you and flipping you over on your knees.

You winced as your face smacked into the table. Your arms still bound in front of you.

You groaned into the metal as he completely filled you again.

As he moved, you felt more force behind each thrust.

"I can't--It's too--too much-ah!"

He slammed harder, which made you try to cushion your face.

Your heard a few sharp grunts, yet not of effort, which didn't surprise you. You were probably a warm-up.

Your body gently quivered from the force.

And the chains loudly clinked in time with him.

"I--Mm--hah--Lemme..."

Combing his fingers into your hair, he tugged you back, landing seated in his lap.

He sat motionless for a few seconds, a throaty groan was let out.

You made one last attempt to wriggle away.

And you think that made him completely snap from annoyance.

And you knew this because when he moved again, it was like he'd decided to completely destroy you.

With roughness you never experienced before, a deepness you never felt, a speed you didn't know was possible, he pounded into you at least a few times before your skin even slapped against his again.

And it seemed he was satisfied, every sound you hid before was milked out until you couldn't even process where you were anymore.

All you could feel was him, the pleasure, that stretch, all you could hear was the squelching of your wetness.

Your mouth couldn't even close anymore, completely drunk off him.

Your thighs shook terribly, barely able to handle him.

And you wouldn't even be surprised if he still went easy on you.

You were close.

When he tightened his grip, cutting off your breathing that was it.

Your hips bucked wildly as you released for the second time, a long moan ripping out of you.

Clenching around him so deliciously made him follow after. Filling you to the brim, and dripping down his length.

You sighed, as you began to settle only to whimper when you realized...

He wasn't done yet.

[in1-nutshell]

Third request since you opened them, I just have a lot of ideas. I was rereading the Bee's team meets megatons daughter with the opposite personality Buddy and it got me thinking. You know how Knockout, Breakdown, Steve, and maybe Soundwave? Couldn't tell. But you know how all of them switched side because of Buddy in that one fic you wrote? (Or maybe not, there's a nagging thought in the back of my mind that I dreamed that.) Imagine they all notice that Buddy's missing and there's a slight panic because yeah, Buddy can take care of herself but why wouldn't she tell them? They find out that Buddy's back on earth and now there are a few ex-cons standing at the scrapyard's gate. (Or maybe Knockout never left earth and already knew she was there? Because there's that one episode where Bumblebee and Strongarm are thrown into the car lot with the uhm, wheel cuff things, and it pans out to a very suspicious cherry red Aston Martin. I refuse to believe that's not Knockout. And since Fixit (I think, can't remember.) and the humans had to go and rescue them maybe Buddy tagged along and Knockout saw them? Buddy might've also seen Knockout and decided to get the wheel cuff off of him as well. (Or maybe he didn't have a wheel cuff, can't remember. Jeez, how much have I said that?)) Anyways this was just a really long ramble of an idea that can be taken multiple ways. So do what you wanna do with this.

There's a bit of an explanation on the timeline in here. If it sounds a bit confusing, feel free to let me know so I can explain it better.

Also, added a little extra in here...

Hope you enjoy!

Megatron's daughter with the opposite personality reactions from Knockout, Breakdown, Steve, and Soundwave finding out she went missing

SFW, Platonic, Romance, Familial, Cybertronain reader

RiD 2015

Going through the canon timeline of megs daughter.

Soundwave does get sent to the shadow zone through an altercation.

Buddy never finds out what happened to him.

She believes that he left Megatron during the chaos.

She was a bit sad that he never came back to talk to her or anything, but she also believed that he was taking some time to find himself after being a Decepticon for so long.

Knockout and Breakdown end up having joint stay between earth and Cybertron.

The pair loved driving through Earth scenery and was a place to escape Cybertron for a while.

Most of the Decepticons had started their new lives on Cybertron now that the war was over.

Buddy was no different.

Not only had she started a brand-new life, Buddy and Steve had recently become Conjunx Endura after a while of dating.

Steve had been on an away assignment for his work when Buddy left through the portal of their shared habsuite.

Steve walking into their home.

“Buddy! I’m back!”--Steve

Silence…

“Buddy! I’m back?”--Steve

Silence…

Steve starts looking around the home.

“Buddy? Buddy if this is another joke, I don’t like it!”--Steve

A few minutes later…

Knockout looks at his monitor seeing Steve calling.

“Breakdown its Steve!”--Knockout

“Put him on.”--Breakdown

Steve shows up on the screen.

“Hey Ste—”--Breakdown

“SHE’S GONE!”--Steve

Breakdown and Knockout out jump a bit.

“Gone? Who’s gone?”--Knockout

Steve has his servo on his helm.

“BUDDY! BUDDY’S NOT HERE!”--Steve

“Calm down Steve. Maybe she went out for a walk or something. Or maybe she went to go visit a friend. Remember last time?”--Breakdown

“…Maybe your right…”--Steve

“But if she doesn’t come back in a week then let us know.”--Breakdown

“Steve nods and hangs up.

One week later…

Steve starts calling Knockout and Breakdown.

Breakdown answers.

“Hey—Primus Steve!”--Breakdown

Steve looks tired and on the verge of a literal break down.

“SHE’S STILL NOT HERE!”--Steve

Soundwave, meanwhile, had spent his time looking for Megatron’s signal. He escaped the shadow zone a couple weeks before Buddy showed up, so he didn’t know that she was here.

Soundwave picks up on a frantic link between Knockout, Breakdown and Steve about Buddy disappearing.

He follows the frequency to Breakdown and Knockout which scares them half to death.

“Soundwave!”—Breakdown and Knockout

Soundwave stands there with his arms crossed.

“Breakdown—Knockout—Buddy?”--Soundwave

“We don’t know. Steve just told us she went missing from their home.”--Breakdown

Soundwave clenches his servos a bit.

The sound of a portal gets their attention.

Out pops out Steve.

“I’m here! I’m—SOUNDWAVE?!”--Steve

“Explain.”--Soundwave

“Steve is here to assist us on the search for Buddy.”--Knockout

Soundwave steps to Steve.

Knockout and Breakdown step to Steve’s side.

“He is Buddy’s Conjunx Soundwave. He has the right to be here.”--Breakdown

Soundwave freezes a bit hearing it.

“Buddy—Conjunx?”—Soundwave

Steve gulps a bit but puts on a brave face.

“Yes, I’m her Conjunx. A Conjunx that’s worried for her safety. We’d really appreciate it if you helped us find her.”--Steve

Soundwave pauses a bit and turns to Knockout.

“Continue.”--Soundwave

“As I was saying, a day’s weeks ago I was booted and taken to the yard where I saw this other Autobot get stuck there too, awfully annoying mind you. And then look who shows up but Bumblebee and his new crew.”--Knockout

“He has a new team?”--Steve

“Yes, and I swear I heard him say ‘Buddy’. I thought at the time he was remembering her from Cybertron, but now that she went missing, there is a chance that Bumblebee might know where she is.”--Knockout

“What are we waiting for? Let’s go!”--Steve

“Slow down Steve we don’t even have a trail on where—”--Breakdown

“Signal—found. 30—minutes—east—city. Coordinates on—commlink.”--Soundwave

“Now we go!”--Steve

Steve transforms and speeds down the road.

“…He’s good to Buddy. Their a good match for each other.”--Breakdown

Soundwave looks at Steve’s retreating form.

“Soundwave—will see—about that.”--Soundwave

It’s nighttime when they arrive to the scrapyard.

Knockout thinks about literally knocking on the door.

They hear Buddy yelling.

“Okay we need a good plan—”--Knockout

Steve uses Breakdown like a steppingstone and launches himself over the high wall.

“Or we can go in guns blazing I guess…”--Knockout

“Soundwave—approve.”--Soundwave

Breakdown offers Knockout and Soundwave a way over.

He could wait until they opened the door.

Soundwave and Knockout are now over the wall.

All the scrapyards’ alarms are sounding.

The team is on high alert when Fix-it mentions the Decepticon signals inside the scrapyard.

Bee tells Buddy to get Denny and Russel out of the area.

Buddy grabs her friends and sets on leading them to the other side of the scrapyard with Fix it.

Steve is dodging blasters and staffs like it was his job back in the Decepticons.

He is slightly hurt that Bee didn’t recognize him but then again, he does have a pretty basic frame.

Steve raises his servos in surrender.

“HOLD IT! HOLD IT!”--Steve

“Freeze Decepticon!”--Strongarm

“Hey! I said hold it! Now, I’m not here to hurt anyone—”--Steve

“I am.”--Soundwave

“Soundwave?!”--Bumblebee

The weapons get charged up and ready to attack.

“WE are not here to attack. Listen, Bumblebee, we’re just here to—”--Steve

“Where did everyone go?”--Breakdown

Breakdown and Knockout walk in on the standoff.

“Knockout? Breakdown? What is going on?!”--Bumblebee

Steve face palms.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to explain but everyone here seems to keep on interrupting me!”--Steve

Silence.

“Now. We came here to ask you if you’ve seen Buddy around?”—Steve

“Buddy?”--Bumblebee

The team immediately gets ready to attack.

“If you think we’re about to give her to you, then your sorely mistaken.”--Drift

“So, you do know where she is!”--Steve

Grimlock steps up front.

“And you’re going to have to go through me if you want her.”--Grimlock

“Fine by me.”--Steve

Meanwhile, with Buddy...

“I think we’re safe here.”--Buddy

“Thank the Prime’s.”—Fix-it

“AAAAAARRRRRGGGGHHHHHHH!”

Buddy freezes.

She quickly looks at Denny Russel and Fix it.

“Stay here.”--Buddy

With that Buddy sprints back.

Grimlock had grabbed Steve and slammed him to the ground when he tried to get past him.

Steve luckily manages to get out of his grip and falls back.

Buddy is sprinting back to the main part of the scrap yard ready for whatever she was going to face.

She hides behind some used oil barrel and takes a peek at who the trouble was.

Buddy spots Steve on his knees, holding his side a bit.

She runs out of her hiding place.

“HOLD YOUR FIRE! HOLD YOURE FIRE!”--Buddy

Most of Team Bee looks in shock that Buddy starts running past them.

“Buddy! Don’t—”--Grimlock

“HOLD YOURE FIRE!”--Buddy

The team hesitantly puts some of their weapons down.

Buddy rushes over to Steve, who was frozen seeing Buddy there.

“Primus Steve are you okay? That denting doesn’t look too—Oof!”--Buddy

Steve fights the shooting pain on his side and flings his arms around Buddy pulling her incredibly close.

“Oh, Thank the Allspark you’re okay!”--Steve

He lets go to look her over.

“Are you hurt? Where did you go? Were you kidnapped? What’s—“--Buddy hugs him tight making him go quiet.

He just wraps his arms around her and stifles a sob in his throat.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t know this was going to be such a long mission, but when Prime calls you, you gotta go.”--Buddy

“Excuse me when Prime what?”--Steve

“CAN SOMEONE PLEASE EXPLAIN WHAT IS GOING ON?!”—Sideswipe

Team Bee is extremely confused.

Soundwave takes a few steps forward and Buddy launches at her uncle he hugs back surprising everyone.

Then she goes to Knockout and Breakdown.

There is a lot to explain.

Steve stays by Buddy’s side the entire time.

“Hey Buddy, who is… Steve exactly?”--Denny

“He’s my Conjunx.”--Buddy

Steve feels a swell of pride and love hearing those words.

Steve grabs Buddy’s servo.

“That’s still sounds nice, you know.”--Steve

Buddy smiles shyly at him.

“Your Conjunx!”—Team Bee

“How come you never told us?!”--Sideswipe

“It never came up?”--Buddy

“What’s a Conjunx?”--Russel

“The Earth equivalent of a significant other.”--Breakdown

“You’re married?!”--Russel

“How?!”--Sideswipe

Buddy looks at Steve.

“That’s a story for another time.”--Buddy

“No, that’s a story for now.”--Sideswipe

“Another time.”--Buddy

“Now!”--Sideswipe

In the end Knockout and Breakdown end up going back to their home on earth. They do offer their services in case something bad does happen in their area.

Soundwave decides to take some time for himself not knowing what to do with everything now that the war is over.

Steve decides to stay in the scrapyard with Buddy and Team Bee.

[ineffabildaddy]

on today's episode of understanding good omens through my own life:

a story about my ineffable inevitable queer teenage experience with an intense, volatile, fiercely affectionate 'friendship' that was definitely not just a friendship in retrospect.

when i was eleven, i started secondary school, and i met a girl who quickly became my best friend (i'm a trans man, and i also understood myself as a girl at the time. i still understand myself as a girl at that time). we became known as a unit because we couldn't get enough of each other, and we did absolutely everything together.

on the first day of our second year, we saw each other for the first time in several weeks because she had been away in her home country that summer. i had been counting down the seconds until she came back. when she was in the process of giving out souvenirs from her trip to all our friends, she waited until she saw i was alone and approached me. she handed me a ziploc bag full of shells and rock fragments.

"i picked these out for you at the beach," she said.

i thanked her and asked her to show me the bags of shells she'd made up for the others.

"i didn't do this for the others. i only did it for you," she responded, and walked away.

i had never felt anything like what i felt in that moment, and i haven't since. i was a lonely kid, especially before that age. what i mean to say is... no one had ever done anything just for me. no one had ever thought of me when i wasn't there; no one had ever taken the time to give me something that they had so carefully picked out; no one had ever stated with such conviction, in what was said or what was unsaid, that what they had done for me was not to be enjoyed by anyone else.

i like to remember this when i try to understand this moment in good omens:

i can't begin to comprehend what aziraphale must have felt in that moment, but remembering that day of my own life is the closest thing i've got.

mere months after that day, we started to argue. we had a huge falling out. i told her that no one on earth was capable of hurting me quite like she was (thirteen year-old me, in her own twisted way, thought that was a compliment). she told me in no uncertain terms that she couldn't stand me. we stopped talking.

a few months after that, we reconciled and we became closer than ever, but that tension, that unrest, was always lying under the surface, just waiting to gnash its teeth - and sometimes it did. these were also the years in which we were discovering our queer identities, and it took us a long time to really understand each other's journeys in that regard.

at sixteen, we both left our school and moved to a different institution till we graduated at eighteen. though we were at the same sixth form college, we just had different lives and didn't hang out anymore, though we remained on good terms. now, we text every once in a while, and we always say we'll meet up, but we never do. in october of last year, i bumped into her for the first time in maybe four years while coming home from a pavement gig. she was sitting on the doorstep of her parents' place with a roll-up cigarette. it was like no time had passed.

looking back, i can say with full confidence that i was in love with her. i do not know how else to understand our relationship. she drove me up the wall the way she did because i had never felt anything like what i felt for her for anyone else - and i haven't to this day.

even now, every time she is even mentioned in conversation, i dream about her the night following. and i still have those shells, hidden away in a wooden box i've never shown anyone; it's not too far from the shoebox that contains every note she ever passed me, every doodle she ever drew for me, every card she ever wrote me. in other words, i was permanently altered by our relationship, and her absence from my life has never diminished that. the same can naturally be said of crowley and aziraphale, to a much, much greater extent. i relive my memories of us because they help me understand many things about myself and others, and i've recently found that good omens has encouraged this.

this ended up longer than i intended but i hope you got something out of it.<3

[misc-obeyme]

Hello! :D

I simply can't stop thinking about Barbatos being insanely attracted and so deeply in love with MC that he don't make the effort to hide it anymore, but the problem is: MC doesn't actually think that he feels that way.

(I'm using female pronouns for better explanation, pardon my english 😔🫶)

Like, MC lives with many ancient and immortal beings who have lived for many many centuries and she is only a human who lived for a few years. In mc's conception, she doesn't see a reason why any of them would be attracted to mc in any way, so she just lives peacefully with them, not really expecting any romantic approach.

Mc and barbatos have a friendship, and mc is attracted to Barbatos (who isn't really?), but doesn't do anything about it. Kinda like the attraction you feel towards your favorite idol, you don't really make a move, but you wish you could get married.

Barbatos notices and kinda feels the same way, sending discreet signals when they were together. He finds it strange, because he sees her obvious interest in him, but doesn't do anything about it.

As time passes, Barbs feelings grow stronger and he grows frustrated and is determined to show MC his interest, his discreet moves now are obvious (only when they were alone bc its barb, cmon). When mc is talking he is just staring at her with such lovestruck eyes, blinking slowly and repliying to her in a flirty way. Mc only grows more and more flustered, not making any moves still.

It gets worse in a degree that once barbatos corners her against a wall and stares deeply at her soul, saying something bluntly urging her to do something since he knew she wasnt oblivious to the situation. Maybe in a teasing way, maybe serious.

I dont know if my ideas came out clear and I honestly think I'm a little lightheaded bc of anti-allergy meds, but this plot has been haunting my mind and I had to tell someone. Stay safe!! 🫶🫶🫶

Hi there, anon! While I'm a little concerned about medications making you lightheaded (like omg please rest and I hope you feel better soon!), I do think I understand what you're trying to say!

Because ahhh Barbatos he's so reserved. When I wrote my long fic, there's kind of a theme where the MC character doesn't believe that Barbatos returns their feelings. It's the cause of much angst and anguish, especially in the later chapters.

I think this is because Barbatos doesn't really express his feelings all that much. He's always calm and collected. He doesn't really get worked up about much of anything. Even when he's mad, it's like hidden behind a smile. The only time we really see him get truly angry is with Solomon in Nightbringer. (I mean there may have been other times but that's the only time I can remember.)

Anyway, I love the idea that he finally picks up on MC's feelings and realizes he has to start being more expressive with his own feelings. I kinda think he might realize that he only has so much time with MC, assuming they're still mortal. Like he's gonna hafta do something because time is short!

I personally am very fond of Barb being a tease, so I like the idea of him kinda teasing MC about it at first. But eventually he's going to get serious. If he thought MC really didn't understand how he feels and wasn't picking up on his teasing and maybe couldn't respond for some reason, he would choose to get serious and direct with them.

So yes, I think this is a delightful scenario and I am always rooting for Barbatos to confess his true love to MC lol!

[fluentmoviequoter]

hello ! could you maybe wrote a dalton x fem reader were its really fluffy and theyre just really in love ?

xoxo

Of course! I hope this is along the lines of what you wanted! Have some fluffy, soft, touchy, so in love he can't explain it Dalton! Enjoy! :)

Warnings: there's just so much fluff, 1.2k+ words

Rom-Com Dreams

“I don’t understand why we only have a week to do this project,” one of your classmates complains as you exit the classroom. “This is at least two weeks’ worth of work.”

“I agree,” another classmate says before turning to you. “What do you think?”

“I,” you begin, then see someone much more interesting, “have to go.”

“And we lost her,” your classmates say together as they watch you run down the stairs.

“Dalton!” you exclaim as you wrap your arms around his shoulders. “I missed you.”

“I missed you,” he repeats, his arms wrapped firmly around your waist. “What do you want to do?”

“Anything. As long as it’s with you.”

You release your interlocked hands and let them fall to your sides, smiling as Dalton keeps one arm around your waist to lead you through the crowd of students. Once you reach a less-populated area, Dalton stops walking and twirls you around to face him.

“I have an idea,” he states as he drops his forehead to yours, his hands holding your waist as your hands lay on his.

“I’m in.”

“You don’t even know what it is.”

You shrug and smile before asking, “Does it involve me and you?” Dalton nods, so you explain, “Then I’m in.”

Dalton shakes his head softly and pulls you closer. “I love you.”

“Even when I accidentally trip over you because you went into the Further while laying directly in front of your door?”

“Especially then.”

Dalton nudges you forward, his arm finding its place on your waist as you continue walking toward his dorm. He tells you that his idea will only work once the sun goes down, so you happily agree to wait until then in his dorm. The safety and privacy of his dorm have been a safe haven for both of you since college started.

Entering his room, Dalton kicks the door closed behind him and watches in awe as you move comfortably around his space, placing your things in the usual spot before helping yourself to a sweatshirt he left lying on his chair. You move his pillows and then lay down, holding your arms out toward him as thunder sounds in the distance.

“I don’t have a book, so you’ll have to do,” you say as you make grabby hands.

He kicks his shoes off and puts them away, something he never did before you started spending so much time in his dorm, and lays down beside you. The twin bed is a tight fit for both of you, but you’ve managed to learn the perfect way to make it work. Today, you’re laying against the wall, propped up slightly, as Dalton tangles his legs with yours, wraps his arms around your waist, and lays his head on your chest. Once he is in his favorite spot in the world, you wrap your arms around him and play with his hair, letting the sounds of the far-away storm settle over you. Dalton nuzzles his head closer to you, briefly wondering what his dad or brother would say if they walked in right now before realizing he doesn’t care.

“Will your idea still work if it’s raining?” you ask as lightning makes itself visible outside.

“It’ll be better,” Dalton says into the skin of your neck.

Your hands move down and you begin scratching his back, stilling when he mumbles something then rolls away from you slightly.

“We have to stop. I’m going to fall asleep and I can't miss my plan.” He ends his statement with a yawn.

You smile at him and roll onto your side so that you’re facing each other, mere inches separating you.

“How was your day?” you ask.

“Pretty good. Professor Armagan said the project I turned in last week was my best work yet.”

“That’s amazing, Dalton! Was that the inspiration assignment?”

Dalton can’t stop himself from kissing you when you remember such a small detail. As he pulls back, he smiles and moves his hand into the dip of your waist. You’re convinced the spot was made specifically to fit Dalton’s hand.

“Yeah, that’s the one.”

“What was your inspiration? I didn’t get to see that one.”

“It was a park at night,” Dalton explains. “Inspired by you and the night we met.”

You laugh, then stop abruptly at the look in Dalton’s eyes. “Really?”

He nods and this time you’re the one to initiate the kiss.

“I love you,” you whisper.

“I love you,” he responds. He picks his head up and looks out the window before standing and extending a hand to help you up. “It’s time, let’s go.”

You take his hand and stand, removing his sweatshirt and replacing your shoes as he gets ready behind you.

“Leave your stuff, we’ll come back after,” he says as he opens the door for you.

He leads you outside and onto a sidewalk, telling you that walking through the light rain will be worth it. You follow him down a few different paths before arriving at the park where you first met, the rain growing heavier.

“Dalton?” you ask, turning to face him.

“Let’s make some romcom dreams come true,” he answers, a hand extended to you.

You smile and take his hand, laughing as he twirls you and pulls you close, his other hand finding your waist again. As your hand raises to Dalton’s shoulder, he sways you slowly, the rest of the world fading away. Dalton twirls you again, dipping you down quickly before bringing you up and pressing his lips to yours. You push your fingers into his hair and pull yourself closer until you're leaning against Dalton as you kiss him. The kiss is slow and wet with rainwater, but it communicates everything you feel and want to say, even what hasn’t been spoken yet. When Dalton breaks the kiss and leans his forehead against yours, you feel more in love than ever before.

“Thank you, Dalton,” you whisper, letting him sway you again.

“You’re the love of my life, and you deserve to feel like it,” he says, honesty and reverence audible in his words and tangible in his actions. “I love you more than I could ever explain.”

“You have no idea how special you make me feel. I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life showing you.”

Dalton pulls you into one more quick kiss and then leads you back toward the path.

“I have hot chocolate and dry clothes in my dorm, unless you need to go home now,” Dalton says as he guides you.

“That sounds perfect.”

As you’re lying in Dalton’s arms, wearing his sweatshirt so you’re warm and dry, you can’t remove the smile from your face.

“Dalton?” He hums against the crown of your head so you continue.

“Thank you for making my romcom dreams come true. You’re my future, and I wouldn’t trade these memories with you for the world.”

“That was just one romcom dream, wait ‘til next week.”

“What’s next?”

“Forever,” Dalton answers, raising his arm as you turn in his grasp to kiss him.

The movie is long forgotten as you revel in your own movie-worthy romance. Your love for Dalton is visible to anyone who looks, but the private moments like this make you love him even more.

[kurosstuff]

Hello, how are you doing? :)

Since requesrts are open and your writing is marvelous, I wanted to request an Azula x gn reader oneshot/fic where reader is a childhood friend who grew distant to Azula over time, but is now chosen to be her fiancé in an arranged marriage.

You don't have to write it, but I still hope you likr the idea!

Have a great day ^^

Hi! I'm doing better at least! Thank you so much♡ It means so much to me to hear you like my writing!

I'd like to apologize for not writing this sooner- was taking a break with long fics- and idk how accurate azula is still- haven't watched fhe show in so long-! Also hope I got Ozai ok? Never wrote anything with him in it before I don't think

-

I got carried away♡.. this came out as more of a reconnection type thing? Eh- maybe that's good?

Summary: read ask♡

Warnings(?): azula being azula, reader freaks out/panics alot, ozai, soft(?) Azula(she's like kinda nice sometimes); slight angst. Misunderstanding(but not really), friends to strangers to lovers(?), both reader AND azula are oblivious on how they really feel,

Azula x G/N reader: arranged

Being azulas friend had its ups and downs

Mostly downs

"Oh, come on, Y/N. Don't such a kid, " Azula grumbled, trying to get you to stay still. She read a trick where if someone still stays, a firebender can hit the target above the person's head without any injury. In a book for children for whatever reason. "I'd never hurt you," which is partly true - Azula wouldn't hurt you on purpose, or she would - you weren't actually sure

But like time- friendships come and go.

As you grew older, you saw how awful of a person Azula was turning out to be. How cruel of a person she truly was - how little care she had for another being - even her own brother. Seeing how she was amused and not concerned for her brother during the Agni Kai- you decided enough was enough.

This 'friendship' was becoming too dangerous too frightening. You were aware you can't just up and end the friendship you decided to distance yourself from her. Feeling confident, she wouldn't notice the change

-

You weren't sure if she ever noticed- if by chance she did. She never said or gave the indication she knew. After a couple of months, you stopped coming around to hang out.

You felt bad, but you believed this was for the best.

It's been almost a three full year when you received the letter. One you'd overlook if it weren't for the very specific golden charm closing the envelope showing it was from the royal family. Usually, being given this letter is either an honor or.. something much worse. Swallowing down your nerves, you sat down staring at the envelope for almost an eternity. Opening it carefully, you begain to read.

Everything seemed normal in the letter besides the fact you are to be summoned to the Fire Lord himself for something. Totally normal. Not like your gonna die or anything. Be shipped off to war maybe? You'd 100% are not worried.

Nope.

-

Rushing to get ready, you practically jumped in the air in Fright when you heard the knocking on the door. Your nerves were shot, and this whole thing was just making it worse.

You almost hoped to not see her there. But that'd be impossible since she lived there. Opening the door two guards stood infront of you looking at you sternly.

"Are you Y/N?" Nodding your head yes- you didn't trust your voice at the moment. They turned and gestured to follow "come. We will escort you to the Palace"

-

You don't remember anything on the way there - it was all a blur - you blame it on your nerves, but it did help distract from the imitating Palace. Until you got there. The two guards stepped out and opened the door for you - following them the huge door to the Palace opened slowly with a creek. You took a deep breath and stepped in- turning you watched as the doors closed, sealing your fate. Locking you in - A sound of someone clearing their throat caught your attention

"This way," following closely, you dared not speak, not trusting your voice - and for the fact your throat was so dry a word couldn't get out when if you wished it.

Being led by two fully armed guards was almost as unnerving as the lack of decorations in the halls leading to the Fire Lords office. It was devoid of anything to show the human side of him - if there was any. The only lights shown were from flames - obviously, one's from the Fire Lord himself probably made. The only sounds you could hear was the sound of your heart beating harshly in your ears and the metal taps of the swords on the guards.

Stopping in front of huge double doors, they turned to you unblinking. "He's inside." Was all they said before they opened the doors for you. Once you stepped in they shut loudly the candles blowing out closest to you leaving you alone in the dark- minus the glow of flamed down the hall. Clenching your hands you took a deep breath and tried to relax-

The closer you got to the flames- the more the urge to run as far as you could got worse- alarm bells ringing in your head at the thought of this all going wrong. Something practically 100% possible. Even on his good days, he would be cruel. Stopping in front of the flame wall blocking you from the full view of the man himself - Fire Lord Ozai. His face covered in the shadows from how he sat, but the flames didn't hide how terrifyingly huge he looked - bowing in respect you were about to great him- before he put his hand up to stop you

"Do you know why I asked you here?"

It took you a moment to gain the courage to respond - surprisingly, he allowed you the moment - as if he thought you actually knew the reason. "No, Fire Lord Ozai. I do not. " A deep hum was all you got in return - fabric moved, glancing up, you gulped.

He stood up.

Walking towards you, the flames moved, almost glinding out of his way like a door - he stood before you. Moving his hand in a gesture, you understood to stand straight up , your eyes cast away in respectfear. Walking around you in a circle.

Like a predator hunting his prey. He stood in front of you again after a moment. "Yes. You are perfect." The odd complaint from him did nothing to ease you - seeing your confusion, he hummed."There's an arrangement. Obviously, your Father never told you." The look you held did nothing to stop him,"the arrangement was. His firstborn was to marry my firstborn." The words he spoke caused a mixed sense of emotions in you- confusion, anxiousness. And fear from what was your next thought.

His firstborn was banished.

"But. Giving the events that unfolded with my firstborn. The agreement changed a bit. You will marry my second born."

Clicks of footsteps echoed behind you. You didn't dare look behind you.

"You are to marry my daughter- Azula. Whom I was made aware you were friends of sorts." Turning away, he walked back to his throne. "You will be Wed in two months."

Behind you, someone cleared their throat, turning around, and froze. Azula stood arms crossed, staring at you - almost glaring from how narrowed her eyes were. The same smug smirk from years ago is still present. She almost didn't seem to change much but all the more terrifying. Even if deep down you were happy to see her

"Well. Hello Y/N, " she spoke, voice coming out in a condescending purr. "It seems like we have some catching up to do." Turning, she gestured you to follow her

-

You followed Azula to her room. You've been in it once before, but that was years ago. Before you felt comfortable - now you felt uneasy - tense about the whole thing. Standing far away from the bed but close enough, you looked around the room - it looks the same as it did, but with some added things such as plants and a new dresser replacing the old silver one she used to own.

Azula sat on her bed, pulling some books out to go through every once in a while, looking up at you - face unreadable. Shows how much has changed before you could tell what she was thinking even if she wouldn't show it - now it's like she's a new person - and in a way, she is.

"What's the matter with you?" Azula asked(more like demanded), looking over at her- Azula seemingly growing frustrated at the books in her hands- what about you weren't sure. Turning towards you with eyebrow raised an annoyed look on her face. You haven't answered her yet

"Oh- uh, nothing. Why?" Humming she placed the book down on her lap- gesturing towards the bed. Getting the message you sat down on the edge. She sat silent for a moment before sighing.

"Look." She started after a while. She took a second to think her response through - it was an odd sight. Azula glanced at you- raising an eyebrow at the unnerved state you were in. Standing up, she walked to her counter. "I get it. The situation we're in is weird. " Pulling some object out, she turned to face you. Handing it to you. It looked like a squishy turtle duck

Seeing the confusion on your face when you took it, she sighed, facing away from you once the look of realization hit you. "You always needed something to hold to calm down when you got like this." She spoke, sitting down beside you. Turning it around the squish toy was the same one you were given- and forgot about years ago. When you and Azula were close. The same accidental burn mark on the shell of the toy. You still remember how she gave it too you

-

Sitting on the bench, you held your hurt, burning hand crying. Clutching them close - you knew you shouldn't have let Azula talk you into doing such a trick.

A dangerous trick - yet she did. And here you sat hurt.

And alone.

Hurried footsteps came from behind you - you knew those footsteps. Sitting upright, you used your uninjured hand to whip the tears away harshly. You didn't want to give Azula another reason to tease you.

"There you are" she spoke. Sitting next to you she held something behind her. Face slightly flushed from either embarrassment or what you didn't know- nor gave it much thought once a toy was shoved in your face "here- I. I heard from the towns people that a thing called a 'squishy' helps calm people down. Brings comfort or whatever. So take it. It's yours" Holding it in your hand you smiled tearfully. Azula looked like she practically softened before she turned to your hand- huffing she gestured for it

"we need to clean this."

-

The memory brought a happy smile to your face. Looking up, you saw the quick look of relief on Azulas face before it hardened. "..you kept it?" A shrug was all you got in response for a moment

"Of course I did." Azula mumbled before clearing her throat, brushing you off without a word. Turning away from you - Azula was silent as you messed with the squishy in your hand. Turning towards you, she opened her mouth before shutting it. This caused to pause - Azula never hesitates, nor does she stop until she gets what she wants. Somethings wrong

Before you could ask, a knock came at the door. After giving permission, a maid came in bowing, "My lady, your training room is ready for you." A wave of her hand and the maid ran off hurriedly down the hall.

"You're coming with me." Azula spoke standing. She walked to the door, glancing back at you - an eyebrow arched. Obviously she was waiting for you to follow. Trying to swallow your nerves you jumped up putting the squish on the bed before turning to follow Azula.

The walk was quiet

-

Entering the training room a couple test dummies stood around the room. Arms stretched out like you used to see from the target practice dummies you'd come acrossed before.

"Sit there- I'll be back" Azula pointed towards some benches a bit far off- you sighed- it's better to just let her do what she says half the time anyways.

After you sat on the bench, Azula moved to the changing room. Her mind jumbled. Scattered around, and she couldn't think of a good reason as to why. Pacing back and forth, she clenched her jaw angrily

Azula was panicking on the inside - ever since she found out it was you, she was to marry. Even worse when she saw you. Would she be a horrible wife? Be like her father and treat her spouse horribly to the point of another abandonment? No. She won't be like him. Azula refuses to treat the one she's bound to in such a way - even Azula isn't that cruel of a person. She's not soft - she's not kind either. She knows the reason why you left her even if you didn't say.

It was her fault

Learning the first choice of who you were originally gonna be married to didn't help her feel good at all. Did you know you were gonna marry her brother? That you left cause of that? The selfish, selfish side of Azula prayed that was the real reason you left. She knows it's not, but it's just easier to think

She wants to prove that she's the best choice - the only choice. Of course, the arranged part of the marriage didn't make her feel happy made her feel horrible. If you were to marry her, she'd want it to be of your free will - not be forced.

Azula stopped pacing. What? Why is that the thing she's focused on. Blinking she crossed her arms. Of course the thought of someone being forced to marry her set an uneasy feeling inside her, but. The thought of marrying you wasn't bad at all-

Why is that? It makes no sense why Azula was and still is hung up on a loss of a friend. The loss of you since the beginning was horrible. It made her sick- she'd admit it only to herself now that she missed you- but.. why does she feel relief from the thought of marrying you? Was it cause she knew you?

Shaking her head she quickly got dressed

-

Fiddling with your thumbs, you glanced around the room - thankfully, in a more relaxed mood. Your heart no longer felt like leaping out of your chest. The whole area was spotless- which wasn't a surpise given how certain people would react to a messy training hall. You shuddered at the memory.

Looking over when the door opened, your face flushed a bit. Azula was already looking your way when she came out. Without a word, she stepped up and moved the dummies a bit before she begins she started to stretch. Standing straight she smirked back at you.

"Keep those eyes on me," she begain her training. Hitting the dummies far back with a punch in the air- blue flames came out in a flicker illuminating her air and passing some of the training dummies closest- but surprisingly never touching them. Only hitting her target

It wasn't much of a surpise on how good of a fighter Azula was- but you can't help but you can't help but still be surprised at how well she can control her flames. You've seen fire benders fight and train before, this wasn't the first- but it was the first seeing just how different she was to the others. If anyone else tried this. Tried to hit the target from the farthest to the front. 100% the flames passing the others would be hit and burned, but for Azula- it was like it never touched.

The more she hit and kicked, the more in awe you were in watching. If anything, it looked like a dance you'd see from how fluent and confident Azula moved to attack.

As quick as she began, the training ended. Azula walked towards you, and she didn't even break a sweat- even her hair was kept in place even though she was hitting and kicking. Standing infront of you she crossed her arms almost smirking. "Well?" She spoke with an eyebrow raised

"You were perfect! How did you even do that?"

"I'm a natural. No trouble at all" Azula spoke smugly- she wasn't gonna tell you how long it took for her to get the attack right when she was younger. Everything needs to be perfect. Azula hummed, interrupting your praise for a moment. "..We added more flowers to the garden. I'll show you" she spoke almost oddly. The praise you gave her felt weird- but it filled her ego. Of course it was perfect.

This was Azula

Nothing less than perfect no matter what.

She turned to leave to redress ignoring your call.

"We'll go once I come back"

-

The garden wasn't totally different from how it was since the last time you saw it. The tree in the middle has grown much older but still hanging strong - a knew bench was placed near it, giving the tree and pond underneath. The sun hitting perfectly in-between the leafs and from the rocks below made it have almost a glow to it.

Looking around, the bushes nearby were cut in the specific square way the Fire Lord himself seemed to prefer rather than the rounded ones. Stopping once you heard quaking noises. A smile came over your face, walking to the center pond. You knelt down, looking at the turtle ducks

"Here. You can feed them if you'd like" Azula spoke, holding a small bag of bread out. Thanking her you took it and started to break them up. Azula watched her eyes softening at the sight.

Azula couldn't put her finger on what was wrong with her. Was it her nerves? Why does this scene in front of her make her feel off? The way you're kneeling in front of the turtle ducks the way you gently fed them. The way the lowering sub hits your face. Blinking, she scowled, looking away from you. Looking out to the pond on the other side

"Do you want to feed one, Azula?" Not getting a response, you looked over, frowning at what you saw.

Azula looked almost troubled by something. "Azula?" Calling out to her gave no help. It was like she was here but not here at the moment. Calling out to her again in a softer tone to not startle her- she blinked at you slowly before registering where she was. Standing up, you watched her closely

"Azula. Are you ok?"

Azula just nodded slowly. A moment passes before she bits her tongue. A question on the tip of her tongue. She doesn't want to ask. But she has to. She needs to if she really wants to not be like her father. Not in this way at least

"Are we still friends?" Azula asked before she could stop. "Like I know this is an arrangement but. Are we?"

You didn't responded right away. Just stood there thinking. The way she looked at you- you couldn't tell what she was thinking. It was like looking at a new person. Slowly nodding your head "yes we are." You bit your lip in thought "can we have a do over? From how things ended-" it was a selfish thing to ask. To pretend you didn't just disappear from her life.

Azula nodded her head

"Then.. we can start over?" You said, looking away from Azula for a moment - turning back to look at her - her gaze was on the pond in front of you both.

"Don't see why not. We're not getting married for a couple of months, so we have time"

[harmless-pest]

((HEY TURNS OUT I LIED AGAIN

I thought i didn't write down any of my plans for this blog, but it seems like I did? so here's some character bios I wrote and the synopsis of what was gonna happen in epilogue (unfortunately without visual direction)

The following content was written in 2017, only meant to be read by myself and is mostly unedited

LORE

The underground is going empty. Slowly. Mostly he stays at charas grave, bc he's a fukkin flower and would die without sunlight. The only other place with light is the palace and there's too much traffic there in and out of the underground. He wants to avoid people after what he did. Not that anyone remembers any of it, resets or the god thing (it was kinda cool he doesn't super regret that. More later) but he feels like. Bad about it and doesn't know how to deal with THAT baloney. he'll still go out every now and then though to see the state of the UG, explore abandoned places, hear word of the surface from locals who decided it wasn't for them or just came back to visit. None of them know who he is, but some are familiar with a weird flower they've seen popping out of the ground and suddenly disappearing. He absolutely idolizes frisk for saving the underground, doing what he and chara never could. But after a while alone with himself he realizes that frisk just coincidentally came at the right time. First he idolized chara, then frisk, and then he realized HE was the one who became a GOD and broke the barrier himself and sure frisk helped but he could have done it on his own! He's charismatic enough! Who needs frisk, they aren't even that great or cool! They had the power to reset and didn't even do anything cool with it! They went around one whole time and that was it, they weren't even interested in the experimentation and mind games... He gets very lonely without frisk. He only knew them for a day but they were kind and forgiving to him unlike anyone else has ever been. He misses them. Sometimes frisk will come back to visit but he'll hide in the other buttercups, ashamed he's a flower again and afraid to talk to them. He's fuckin constantly monologuing he's so lonely. Without someone to cut him off he just keeeeeeps gooooooing He kidnaps absolutely everyones mannerisms and gets so mad if you point it out He's been around for 2-3 months in reality, which is a fuckton of time for resetting esp compared to frisks single day. He had to get real bored to stop for so long and let it all play out. He's just glad he chose to stop on a timeline where everyone was relatively happy so they could all be saved. Where is chara? He doesn't know. He still misses them but he doesn't care much to see them again anymore. Chara wasn't that great, but they also weren't that bad. They were his best friend and he idolized them. Chara was sure they were the angel sent to free the underground and he believed them. He hates what happened but he doesn't blame chara for it. For a minute when he 180s on them he does! But he's just angry and the more he thinks about it he can't stay mad. They were just kids. They didn't know. this is what they get. He doesn't care for humans one bit. He's only met 2 and the rest tried to kill him on sight. As a whole he doesn't hate all humans, but he certainly doesn't trust any of them. He was once obsessed with humans, its kind of like having your favorite celebrity be a jerk but worse. Part of the reason he stays underground is to avoid them, but touristy humans go down there sometimes so it doesn't always work. Many times when he goes to ask how the surface is, its to affirm his beliefs about humans. And often the bias in the underground is on his side. Grillbys is still open down there so he mostly goes there for Intel.

The vague amount of time it’s been since chara and asriel died is fairly short. Short enough for chara to know snowdrake, short enough for chara to have instigated the gyftrot thing and introduced the underground to christmas

THE GREAT ANALYSIS OF FLOWEY

Primary motivations: fear of death, fear of loneliness. Fear of death trumps all, as being with friends puts him on the surface where theres too many people and things that have killed him before.

He’s dependent, picks a favorite person and latches on. Personality is largely a construct of traits he pulled from others. 

He’s self-obsessed in that he’s constantly analyzing his own behavior and thinking about what he’s doing. May be an asriel trait refined by ages of carefully shaping himself to behave in certain ways at certain times. He’s not actually that snappy and quick to anger? At least not normally. He’s in a bad mood lately but when he wants to, he can stay perfectly composed. The threats are just a mechanism to get others to fuck off.

He’s an open book who will keep going on about himself if prompted, and if he’s not trying to hide something from a specific person. Exacerbated by the fact that he’s been talking to himself for so long.

Nasty cognitive dissonance. He will carefully look at all potential issues and outcomes but will find excuses and land on the one that benefits himself/his desires. (ie, he wont admit it but he knows theres nothing really keeping him away from frisk)

He’s been living a long time “without consequences” yeah but he’s extremely critically aware of all consequences. Every action he takes is calculated, he’s just roleplaying 100% of the time. Now that he can’t reset, there are consequences, so he’s very afraid of doing things and fucking up. Part of the reason why he doesnt want to see frisk is because he can’t believe they like him and he thinks that if they learn more about him, they’ll stop. He doesnt know they know everything about him. Frisk is his special person, he cant stand to lose them.

A lot of this is devoted to him figuring out who he is as a person

Doesn’t care for life but fears death because he doesn’t know what’s going to happen without a soul: he fears the unknown

Has the patience of a god but he doesn’t like puzzles that much? He wants the story not the challenge, whereas chara and frisk enjoy the challenge (puzzle enjoyment goes chara>frisk>flowey). Like me, he’ll do the same thing over and over again for hours until it works, but if he gets stuck at a puzzle for more than 30 minutes he’s gotta leave for a while out of frustration. That isn’t to say he’s bad at puzzles, in fact spending so much time with papyrus has made him pretty good at them! At least in theory.

On the surface he has fucking AWFUL crippling panic attacks and he finds it hard to do anything or go anywhere, at least without frisk. 100% dependency and he hates it

First reaction when people do things for him is “no this is bad and I hate it” even if he likes it actually. He doesn't realize he does it until its too late and he's too stubborn to admit anything after the fact. Its a defense mechanism after being taken advantage of, developed because he's so complacent and fine with anything

Unrealistically high and vague expectations placed on him all his life (ur gonna do something big, ur gonna change the world, etc)

His feelings toward Frisk

Theyre his favorite person right now, he’s obsessed with them and loves everything they do. This will wear off and he’ll resent them for a while until he manages to get over it and stop idolizing them. The spite could come out of them having “moral highground” and gently scolding him over little things that add up over time, out of them taking care of themselves poorly because they prioritize others, and by the fact that they’re just as bad as he is as it turns out. He’s afraid theyll stop loving him since he can’t love them. Hes fairly candid about how he cant love them, even asking them if theyre aware he’s just using them for attention and being a leech. What he doesnt know is that frisk is using him as well to stop chara, so once he finds out about that there will probably be some kind of relief.

His feelings toward Chara

They were always the right one, the smart one, as much as he loved them and was fascinated by them and loved to learn things from them, he really hated that part of them deep down though he never snapped and shared it. In the future he will since he’s less tolerant.

His feelings towards the relationship those two have

He’s jealous that they’re so close and know so much about each other. They’re really closer than any two people ever could be since they’ve shared a body for so long. There’s also such a strange mix of love and hate between them that he really can’t read their relationship. He resents the idea of being the third wheel so deeply and he’s particularly spiteful of chara for this since he loves frisk.

His FEELINGS

He super do have them, eh?? He super is actually just very traumatized and lonely and confused eh?? Almost as if he absolutely can and does still love everyone, he’s just detached himself from it. Something very easy to do.

HOW THE FRISK BE

They’re kind of a little bitch and a goth. Rebellious teen days now!! They’re hard to read which can either work for or against them. They don’t really give a shit in a large part about much of anything, especially not now when they’re very concerned with themselves and their problems. They don’t get along with humans or much of anyone their own age for this reason.

Resetting was largely on their hands and they got pretty fucked up by it. Chara did encourage them to do some shit, it wasnt helped that flowey who had forgotten about them was encouraging them too. It was just a bunch of irresponsible kids playing games with peoples lives. There’s also a touch of frisk getting to points on the surface where things are new and changing which scares them into resetting for fear of the unknown future. 

Frisk thought everything was fine until they got to the end of all the genocide stuff, that’s when chara lost it. In the whole “you think theres no consequences for this shit u pulled” manner and tried to hold frisk to it. It was a 2 souls one body case where they shared equal control, this was the first time neither cooperated. Frisk wasnt immediately freaked out by chara, they’re both friends and frisk knew they were a weirdo. Frisk gave in and “sold their soul” so chara would let them do anything other than sit around in an empty void. Chara played the next game like their regular old friend. Then they killed everyone. That’s when frisk freaked out and realized their friend had lost it. When frisk learned to regret what they did. They reset to a world where their friends could be alive again and fought their hardest, but Chara still had their way. This timeline, Frisk went out of their way immediately to get any kind of protection from chara. All kinds of supernatural charms and tricks to keep ghosts at bay. As a result, it’s been a while since they saw chara. And they miss chara a lot. But they know that chara watches them and is waiting for the moment when frisk lets their guard down. 

Frisk pushes so hard to get flowey to come home with them because they know he’s asriel and they know he knows chara. Maybe he’ll know a way to talk some sense into them. And after everything they did, frisk feels betrayed by chara and can’t call them their best friend. Floweys the only person they know wouldn’t do that, he’s faithful to the end.

Frisk is a fixer though, they still love everyone despite what they did and feel genuinely sorry for the way they fucked up. Including chara after all theyve done. It breaks their heart that they can’t play with chara anymore

When frisk finally explains all of this to flowey, chara’s sitting there busting in loudly at every chance and every disagreement like the fucker they are and flowey’s doing everything in his power to tune them out and just watch frisk’s hands

Backstory and reasons why they climbed the mountain are unknown. They will not under any circumstances talk about their old life, which concerns some people, but prying accomplishes nothing. They try to act as though nothing bad ever happened to them to make them want to climb a mountain no one ever returns from, because life is good now and they’ve got loving friends and family. Even other humans who knew Frisk before don’t know much about them since they never really spoke. For Frisk, pretending it never happened is as good as it never happening, at least so they try to think. But they’ll have some triggers, just need to figure out what.

Frisk talks in their sleep, however it’s only very quiet nonsense gibberish. This shocks flowey, as he didn’t think they were capable of talking at all. It makes him more curious about their past too.

THE CHARA SITUATION

Are they soulless? It’s hard to say since really theyre nothing but a soul, just fractured all to hell and lingering long after they should. I still like the idea of their soul being a little infused with bits form asriels soul too

Before the underground, they were the youngest of a large family that mistreated them. They went underground after the death of their mother. In the underground they were best friends and great siblings with asriel. They hung out with kids they shouldnt have though. They werent treated super great underground either, as a human. They and asriel both got up to shit they shouldnt have.

HOW MUCH DOES EVERYONE KNOW ABOUT FRISK AND FLOWEY

Sans: Frisk assumed he knew everything already so they told him that they and flowey could reset. Didn’t tell him that they’ve killed everyone multiple times

Papyrus, Undyne, toriel, asgore: Doesn’t know

Alphys: let in a little on the reset business

The next section of the document covers the meetings, which were all made into finished comics, and therefore will be skipped.

SURFACE

(note from present Stem: this is all way more uncooked and hard to read than i thought it might be)

Flowey has nightmares that charas coming to kill him. Notably one comic where chara in shadow approaches and then it’s revealed as frisk

The inciting action

Kids make fun of Frisk for being “dumb” and flowey for being a flower and never wanting to be outside (he needs a roof over his head). At one point he snaps back a little too much and loses it a little. Frisk, as a result, tries to stuff him in their bag but this doesn’t calm him down. He blows up the backpack with magic and hurts a bunch of kids in the crossfire, including frisk

Toriel

She walks into the room where flowey is. They say hi to each other. Then she asks if he's feeling well. He's confused, but says he's fine. She says that's good. Then she says he's been behaving strangely lately. Floweys upset by this. “Did my acting get worse or can you see straight through me?” she giggles, “I think its your acting, dear.” she asks him what's wrong, if he's not happy on the surface. He says no, he's happy and he never wants to go away again. He decides that he’s comfortable enough with toriel to tell her this, she was once his mom after all, and in a way she is again. He's confused. He doesnt know what to do while frisk is away at school, since he can't join them after he had a weird episode and threatened other kids. He can play with papyrus and that's fun, but he doesnt really want to do that. He doesnt want to leave or go anywhere without frisk really. Toriel asks if that's why he's confined himself to this little pot. He doesn't really know, and he doesn't want to admit being scared. Toriel catches on though. She sees that he really is just a regular kid in there, and a kid at that since its hard to tell with him being a flower, and hes scared of this big world. The underground has always been the same, small and hardly changing even after all the years since they were trapped down there. By contrast the surface is huge and full of new people and everything changes all the time, and it’s scary. By now she's caught on that he has issues with humans. She says that he can trust anyone in this house, but she understands if frisk is the only one he can really count on. He finally cracks. He admits that hes afraid of frisk getting sick of him since he's such a pathetic mess like this and can't do anything about it. Toriel tells him that frisk never would. They love him too much. But if he's still that afraid, then he needs to try and be better eventually. Sitting around in that pot all day waiting for frisk to come back won't do it.

Alphys

Frisk finally breaks because flowey is being so insufferable and snaps at him. They both feel extremely bad, so toriel says that flowey needs to stay somewhere else for a while (because he won’t get along with anyone else in the house lately so sending frisk away is silly). Flowey hesitantly agrees to it and requests to stay with alphys and undyne. Which means i finally have to try writing for undyne lol. He probably hung out with undyne during frisk’s gym classes since he can’t exactly exercise as a flower. But he can’t go to work with her because he isn’t allowed at the school, so if he goes to work with anyone, it’s with alphys. She might take some time off for his sake too because she wants to get to know him and while she doesn’t fully understand why he’d go out of his way to choose her to stay with, she appreciates it. They watch some anime and al finally gets a chance to pry at him scientifically with a lot of question asking. He holds back on life questions except for ones that pertain only to this timeline and are least incriminating. Watching anime on netflix one night while the autoplay is loading he suddenly says he’s asriel. Alphys chokes on her popcorn or something and jumps to stop the autoplay like “what did you just say?!” “Don’t tell toriel. Or asgore. Please. don’t tell anyone.” ‘i won’t! I promise i won’t say anything to anyone!b-b-but did you really say youre--” “prince asriel. The one who absorbed the soul of the first human to fall underground and got killed on the surface” “b-b-b-b-b-but h-how is that possible?? Y-y-y-you don’t… you d-don’t have a s-soul, i-if you were--” “the flowers in asgore’s garden were growing out of my dust. That determination brought me back to consciousness.” “o-o-oh my g-g-god, I-i…” he finally looks up at her in the eye “alphys, you’re going to take this really badly. I’m gonna tell you everything. If you’re ready. I’m warning you now because this is going to get…. Really… really dark. And it’s going to make you feel awful. But you at least deserve to know. If you aren’t ready, I’ll stop. But there’s no promise I’ll ever be willing to say this all again.” alphys centers herself and turns to face him “i’m ready”

CHARA the first time they see chara again is shortly after frisk takes him home when chara possesses frisk and stumbles out of bed in the middle of the night. 

he catches them and theyre like “so at long last you caught on to me” 

f: “get out of frisk’s body” 

c: “what makes you think I’m not frisk?” 

f: “they don’t talk like that. no one’s as bad at roleplaying as you are, chara.” 

c*leaves frisk’s body*: “Why that tone, asriel? Are you not surprised to see me? I will admit, I did not think you would take this long to figure it out.” 

f: “I had my suspicions the whole time but you were always pretty well hidden.” 

c:”hm,,, that doesn’t sound right… oh… Oh! You let yourself forget!” 

f:”What are you talking about? why are you possessing frisk’s body” 

c:”Frisk never told you? Our sweet savior of monsterkind has been bad. they reset and reset and reset until they destroyed the entire world and I was happy to let them live in the void they created, the hard earned fruits of their labor, but they would not accept it. So they sold their soul to me in order to reset once again. They tried to fix all their mistakes and make the world as if they had never done any wrong. They have forgotten that their actions have consequences, so I am here to remind them.” 

f: “chara- chara. Chara. They sold their SOUL to you?” 

c: “yes they-” 

f:��did they sign a contract for it?” 

c:”A contract? What? No, of course not. I am a ghost, I don’t have paper-” 

f:”then it’s not legally binding” 

c: “what?” f:”it’s not legally binding! You can’t just take people’s souls, chara!” 

c:” Yes I can! I can? And I did.” 

f:”you’re being ridiculous! Give frisk their soul back and leave them alone!!” 

c:”no! ugh… we will continue this later” and then they leave

--- c: frisk has taken to wearing special charms and making all kinds of wards to keep me away. I don’t think they trust me anymore f: i wonder why

--- f: frisk taught me that anyone can be a better person if they just try, so I’m trying. They want to try too! c: frisk also went about systematically murdering every last one of their friends immediately after that f: chara. ohmygod.

--- c: I’m not going to swear. it’s rude and unintelligent f: it’s more fun tho

Chara makes mention of things they and flowey did in past timelines that were so fun and he can’t remember them, it makes him feel left out

Frisk’s room is covered head to toe in objects and symbols that ward off ghosts and evil spirits. They wear crosses and gemstone rings, they have objects scattered around their room and steal spices from the kitchen that supposedly help, and a circle of salt around their bed. Chara comments later that a lot of the things are meant to keep evil spirits away and therefore don’t actually do anything to them. No one really knows what to say to that

Flowey to frisk after he discovers they were just using him: so i guess… we’re even?  You were no better than me all along?

Frisk shrugs

“But um… i was using you because you loved me. So.. do you really…?”

Frisk frantically shakes their hands and waves their arms to tell him no, then scoops him up in a tight hug

--

Frisk laying in bed after a bad day

“Aw, is someone grumpy because they have too many friends?”

Frisk pushes his pot off the bed to crash down onto the floor while flowey snickers

Frisk has gotten in trouble for texting flowey during class so they have to put their phone away now

*insert some kind of normal convo. Then: frisk. Frisk reply. Reply. Reply. Reply. Reply. (cont.) all with very close together timestamps*

Frisk hours later: <3

*conversation continues as normal*

TO GET BODIES BACK

chara keeps possessing frisk and it drives flowey and frisk up a wall bc they can barely do anything about it other than by being constantly vigilant. theyre both exhausted and sick of it since charas spectral and doesnt run out of energy. and theyre so obnoxious. they go to alphys for help since she knows how to bond souls to things. she asks them why they dont like call an exorcist or something and flowey and frisk both hesitate before admitting they both love chara too much despite how shitty they are. alphys tells them that chara has to accept the body in order to bond to it, and everyone agrees it’s unlikely that they’ll go for anything unlike their actual human body. alphys says she may know something they can do, she just has to call a friend first. she gets on the phone with a mysterious human who they can’t hear on the other side. actually she might give her opener over text and then immediately get a phonecall in response. she opens by bringing up their interest in necromancy, says that she has a ghost, no not a monster ghost, a human ghost, then has to hold the phone back bc they’re screaming on the other side. she calms them down and starts asking about any ways they can think of making a body for someone. she might just tell the two to take off and give them a thumbs up, she’ll text them later. alphys finally gets back to them and tells them they might be able to build a type of hybrid human-monster body for chara, but they need their buried remains and powerful magic in order to do so, and it only makes sense that it be the magic of their parents used to resurrect them. she might sprinkle in that if this works, flowey might be able to get his asriel body back too. of course, nothing is possible if they can’t get chara to agree to all of it. and of course they don’t. their lack of body is punishment, appropriately earned. for them and flowey both. they can’t go back to their bodies just as they cannot undo the wrongs they have done. they cannot escape the consequences of their actions. it would be great if chara said “thats a funny trick to play on god!” flowey tells them that this isn’t some kind of fucked up divine punishment. what they did wasn’t so bad to warrant this. if anything, taking these forms has made them both WORSE. if it were supposed to be punishment they wouldn’t have these chances to get out. he was punishing himself for so long and it didn’t make any difference, but accepting everyone’s help and trying to do better with them DID help him. doesn’t chara want a body back? don’t they miss the ability to feel… anything? don’t they want to live the life they never got a chance to have? chara goes quiet for the first time in their life and undeath. then they agree to it. after that, the three of them go to asgore and toriel to finally break the news that their dead kids are still here. chara doesn’t show themselves, but the point still gets across. they agree to it wholeheartedly and without hesitation the next step is to prepare chara’s body. alphys has a small team of humans helping her out, or maybe just one very enthusiastic one. chara’s body is dug up and there are complements to how well preserved it is, this could be easier than anticipated. a mixture of science and magic is used to heal it and make its human processes function again. just before chara’s to go in frisk tells them that they can’t wait to finally hug them and they’re like “i take it back?? i can’t do this” once in their body chara’s just a clumsy weak little fuck and so very grouchy about having to feel things again.

When asriel gets his body back, the first thing he does is stomp out the old flower. Only frisk notices, it worries them. They try to ask him later but he gets offended like, “what you wanted me to keep it to remind me of my horrible life or something?! You think i need it in case something happens and i have to live in it again? I’d rather die!” the reality is that he thinks he’s cured and better and brand new now that he isnt a flower anymore, but that couldnt be farther from the truth. He’s now convinced hes perfect and can do no wrong which makes him do a lot of wrong

[fandomwritingbit]

I don't know about you, but tests and all that scary stuff is coming around for me next week, and all year I've been having horrible little thoughts about William lately.

So get this, lets say you actually study for that type of stuff (i know i don't) and you just can't get the information to stick in your head!

✨Magically!✨ You or Will, idrc comes up with the bright idea on how to get it to stick in your head by sitting on his dick and reading or going over whatever you've gotta remember

i might've read this somewhere butttttt, i'm a needy little whore at 1 am lets goooo

Before I forget, I love your fics and I have never submitted one before so...! As usual, drink your water, eat some food, and remember to get rest! unlike some of us Lastly, don't forget to sexualize your favorite old man/woman/other

Hi, thanks for the request, this one was an absolute joy to recieve, I love all your little asides lol. Please feel free to send others!

Exams season is a killer and I really hope you get what you want out of it, just remember that tests and numbers and shit don't define you as a person Xx

That being said, whilst this may not be the most optimal way to study, its certainly the most enjoyable...

william afton x (gn)reader

A/N- Reader's between 18 and early 20s. William is a neighbour, for my plot convenience lmao.

You're sitting at the kitchen table to do some studying today, rather than barricaded in your room as usual. You'd read something online about a change of scenery being good for remembering stuff and because your parents were out it seemed a good opportunity.

With each passing minute, you dawned to the conclusion that that post was bollocks because it wasn't working.

You had your laptop open in front of you, surrounded by a frankly obnoxious amount of papers, trying to wrap your head around content for an exam tomorrow. But each time you wrote a line it was like your mind was rubbed blank, Men in Black style. It was so frustrating, and you knew you should have done it earlier but, good god, why was it so hard to remember anything?

So engrossed in feeling inadequate, you flip the laptop shut angrily, tilting your head back so it touched the chair in anguish. Defeated. It was as you did this that you clocked a figure in the kitchen doorway, making your body jerk up-right and turn round in one fluid moment.

Keep reading

"Mr Afton, how long hav- what are you doing here?" you blurt out, quick to try and compose yourself, you weren't physically or mentally ready for guests, especially ones you'd been casually hooking up with since you moved back home.

"Just dropping this off for your dad. I didn't want to interrupt cos you seem to be... trying not to cry?" 

He laughed as he said the last part, moving over towards you and helping himself to a chair. Pushing all your papers to the side without asking. "What's wrong then, been missing me?"

Usually you'd laugh at that but you just shrug at him, half angry at his expression and half at your situation. "You know, I could fucking cry." You do manage a laugh, but its shaky, "Because I'm going to fucking fail this fucking exam because I can't drill any of this shit through my fucking thick fucking skull." You rattle off quickly, each use of 'fucking' harsher than the last.

...

You hadn't really meant to let any of that out. But frustration had taken hold a bit too strongly there.

Afton just stared at you for a few seconds, his lips pressed into a hard line and you could tell he was trying not to laugh at you. You were a bit unsure how you'd react if he did.

After a few moments of silence you place your forehead in your hands and mutter 'sorry'.

"You're alright. Though you shouldn't be studying whilst you're upset, no wonder nothings going in."

"...If you tell me to calm down, I'll lose it." you say, head still in hands, laughing a bit at how much this was bothering you, it was an exam, a booklet of paper, what kind of melt would be this upset. Literally everyone else, you suppose. You take a deep breath.

"Right. Uh when's the test?" he asks you, half looking at a sheet of notes, his interest quickly peaked.

You laugh shortly. "9am."

"Then you've got... What, 20 hours? You've got time to calm down and revise." He put his hand on your shoulder, "You, sweetheart, need to relax."

You swat his hand away, laughing at his cockiness you could tell where this was going, "That's why you came over then? Heard dad's car door shut and your shoes were half-on I'll bet?"

He flashed you a smarmy grin, "You're not far wrong." You shake your head, messing about with this prick was the last thing you should be doing, but the first thing you needed.

"You know, if this type of revision isn't working for you... I heard that associating information with a sense can help you remember things."

You could hardly believe him, seeing you upset and still vying for what he came for. A risky move, Really. You suppose it took cojones, could have made you want to grab a hold of his, or squash them under your shoe.

"Oh yeah?" you ask sarcastically, "What are you suggesting?"

~

You're not sure how long it took for fresh marks to appear on your neck and your pants to be around your ankles, but you quickly find yourself sitting on his lap and letting his cock slip inside you.

As familiar as the low grunt from behind your ear was becoming, the feeling of him stretching you open always surprised you.

You raise your hips up and press back down again, moaning slightly, he let you slowly ride him for a few moments before, just as your rhythm increased, he grabbed your hips.

"Easy," his voice was thick, brushing against your neck, "You're supposed to be fucking studying."

You groan your protest, a hair away from booing him. "What is it you study again?" His question makes you laugh and you lean back against him with your back arching, causing him to grunt. He gripped your hips harder now forcing you still.

"Fuck 's sake. History."

He hummed in your ear, thinking for a minute, whilst your body throbbed around him desperate for some kind of stimulation. "And what's this on?" He could tell you were aching for something so he pushed you forwards, dragging you back, the angle allowing him to press so fucking deep.

"Come on, sweetheart."

"Civil war. Spanish."

Your gruff answer mirrored his growing frustrations.

"And uh... I don't- who won that?" The fact he couldn't move inside your tight hole was making him white-knuckled with restraint.

"-Nationalists."

With your one word answer that was enough studying for the both of you. He started to move your hips along him, letting your eager pace take over.

You knew that you were going to be up all night doing this now, but you didn't really mind.

[lulublack90]

About Me

Hi there, Lulu here.

I do have a real name but I prefer to go by Lulu on here and Ao3 so please use that.

I go by she/he/they. Call me what you want I don't mind. It changes day by day for me in the real world, but my friends and family don't know that.

I'm pansexual but again only a few people know that.

I'm in my 30's but have the maturity of a teenager unless I'm in parent mode when I have to pretend to be a grown-up (It does not last long!).

I am a huge huge huge Harry Potter fan (Fuck JK, she's a dick!) My house is full of so many HP-related items. In fact, I think every room has something in it, thank the gods my husband is also a massive nerd.

In case you can't tell I am Neurospicy. I am in the middle of getting diagnosed with ADHD and by that I mean I am procrastinating actually starting the process.

Now where was I?

Oh, yeah I like so much stuff I can't think what else to put here but yeah Harry Potter, mainly Marauders era but I love anything really.

My fav ships are Wolfstar (I've loved them since I was a young thing and didn't even know it was a thing." Jegulus (My new love.) Dramione (Lord have mercy) Drary (Lord I need more mercy) Pandalily (Meep!) Dorlene (Squeek!) I like Marylily as well but not as much, but I love them when I read them.

My asks are open and you can send me whatever you want, no hate please no one needs that in their life and Tumblr is my happy place don't spoil it.

Things that make me happy

You guys. Honesty it's Tumblr, I've only just really found this and all you amazing people who like my silly stories that I've only been writing regularly since December 23 when I found you all. My husband and son make me happy and so do my dogs and cats. I love watching storms and autumn. I read a lot, I crochet, I knit, I write. I am a huge fan of chocolate. If you give me chocolate I will be your friend.

Music

Bowie. Nuff said.

But yeah I like a lot of different stuff, it depends on my mood as to what I listen to. I drive my husband mad because I like songs by lots of people but I can't remember what they're called or who they're by.

Books

My all-time favourite book will always be Prisoner of Azkaban. It is my happy place.

My house is full and I mean full of books. I don't actually know how many I have but last time I estimated I had 300 in my bedroom alone. (There are piles of books in every room 😬)

Shows/movies

Harry Potter, The Martain, The Princess Bride, Labyrinth, Hunger games, Twilight (Don't judge me they got me through a dark time.), How to train your Dragon, Disney anything, plus others there are so many and I'm bored of listing.

Good Omens, Schitts Creek, Parks and Rec, Bake off, Handmaids tale, It's always sunny, community, Harbin hotel, archer, vampire diaries. Plus more but yeah typing.

Okay I think I'm done but who knows I might add more if I remeber.

Love you all

Lulu

xxx

My Ao3 List

These are my fanfics on my ao3

Bitten M- Remus, Sirius and James head to the forest for a fun full moon. Everything is going great until one of them has an accident. (This was the very first fanfic I wrote. It's okay.) Wolfstar. Complete.

The Prisoner T- Sirius Black has been wrongly imprisoned for 12 years. He's bided his time but now its time to escape and right the wrongs of the past.

The Prisoner of Azkaban as told by Sirius Black, filling in the gaps starting with his escape from Azkaban. Wolfstar. Complete.

The Cupboard E- Hiding from Filch and awaiting rescue things get a bit close in the cupboard between Remus and Sirius. Wolfstar smut one shot. Complete.

Birthday E(I think, I'm not good at telling) Sirius finds Remus alone in their dorm room instead of enjoying the party downstairs. Wolfstar. Complete.

The One That Got Away E- James agrees to throw a party at his house. Sirius asks to bring his little brother, how could that possibly affect James at all? Based on the micro fic series I wrote in January. Jegulus. Backcould Wolfstar. Incomplete.

Jegulus Prompt Series All the prompts I've written on here in one place.

Wolfstar Prompt Series All the prompts I've written on here in one place.