#i don't feel i can hold that authority

[bumblingbabooshka]

[TUVOKTOBER: Day 6] Based on this line of dialogue:

[sskk-manifesto]

(´･ᴗ･ ` )

[oneleggedflamingo]

I’m finally starting to transfer all the pages I have written of the story to the computer, and AAAAAAAA, I really didn’t make this easy for myself. I have been writing the scenes into three different notebooks. :D On the other hand, writing the first version was very easy and fun. ^^

I love noticing how I keep going forward and ending up with the things I could only dream of as a child. But out of all the things I have dreamed of, slowly  turning the story into a book is so much more work than I thought it would be. But I’m not in any sort of a hurry, so it doesn’t really matter. I just really want to have it as a physical copy with my self made front cover and illustrations and then put it into my book shelf. 

And I can’t wait to have a collection of stories that I have written turned into physical books with colorful covers and have them all on a book shelf in my home when I’m old. I know it will happen, I shouldn’t rush. 

[bigfootswashingmachine]

It feels so surreal and unbelievable to be living my life each day safe, fed, in my home, while half a world away Palestine continues to be bombed. I can't think about anything else. I'm crying every day, grieving and caring for people I won't ever meet, whose suffering I am helpless to stop in any direct way. I don't even have words for this, for 10,000 people to lose their lives, kids, families, first responders and reporters, hospitals and schools and refugee camps bombed while the world looks on. entire families lost to rubble. it is horrific. I am sorry. I feel insane. How is this the world we live in? How can this be allowed to happen? while all we can do is watch?

[n7viper]

I feel so weird when people on this site are nice to me because I tend to feel like I'm not worthy of it if I'm simply existing. Like, no one should be nice to me if I'm not talented - if I can't write fic or draw or something. And it's like, the dumbest brain thing? Why on earth would that be the case? I don't feel that way about people, so why would they feel that way about me? And if they do feel that way, why would I want to be around them? Like what the fuck? Brain, please.

[kyouka-supremacy]

with all the respect in the world, i don't think your answer sounded pretentious per se, i just maybe think it doesn't really account for people who are new fans, who don't know how the abuse apologism in bsd actually reaches into the real world. i think it's fair to be shocked about that because even if an author presents themes i don't agree with, i don't immediately jump to them also agreeing to that theme in real life. again, don't mean this as an attack! just wanted to offer a perspective of why the reaction was so visceral

Mmmmmmmmmmhhhhh... I can see how it's not always easy to tell apart the morals portrayed in a book from the morals the author actually supports in real life. But generally, as a rule of thumb, I would say: one thing is for a character to express their own worldviews, and those may or may not correspond to the author's. But when it comes to an underlying, recurring pattern through the whole book, then that's hardly not an expression of the author's own position over a determinate subject.

Examining the case at hands, I do believe, if one were to read chapter 39 alone, they could legitimately say there's no abuse apologism happening in it, but rather a portrayal of two men with very twisted views of what abuse and fatherhood are. And yet such take stops being valid the moment the scene is inserted in the wider context of the manga and novels. When one adds how Dazai's word is commonly considered as true and unmistaken in the context of the manga, and when one adds a rather insensitive approach to the theme in making Akutagawa hit Higuchi being treated even as comic relief at some point, and when one adds how the abuse towards Akutagawa is already presented as something the reader isn't supposed to hate Dazai for (being depicted when the reader is already far used to sympathize with Dazai), and when one adds Akutagawa's words in chapter 85 about how Dazai's treatment towards him was rightful and part of a bigger picture, and when one adds Beast making of the orphanage director almost a martyr, and when one adds Aya's thoughts for her violent father as someone whose teaching helped her when she most needed... Well, then it stops being a single character opinion and starts being an underlying author worldview. But isn't this what reading critically ultimately means, to make connections between the various elements in play in order to recognize patterns and themes?

Still, you're probably right, and the connection between the various instances is something people may have overlooked. Thank you for offering your point of view!!

[bijoumikhawal]

Ive been reading the Persian Boy and I'm not suprised by the orientalism but I am disappointed

[sugume]

MOMENTS WITH YOUR PREGNANT BELLY w/Jujutsu Kaisen  

( CW ) f!reader, reader is pregnant(duh), tooth-rotting fluff  

Featuring: Gojo Satoru, Toji Fushiguro, Nanami Kento, Geto Suguru 

author's note: short rewrite from my old blog

☾ GOJO SATORU 

"Toru, stop splashing my stomach!" you exclaimed at your playful husband, attempting to push the lukewarm bathwater onto your stomach, inadvertently splashing your face. "But she likes it, look!" he exclaimed with a huge smile as your daughter continued to kick your stomach. "I don’t need to look; I can feel it," you rolled your eyes. "Feels like she’s trying to break my ribs." You let out a little grunt when she kicks a particular spot. Satoru shoots a worried glance at you. "Are you alright?" he asks, rubbing smooth circles on your stomach. "I'm okay; she just keeps kicking the same spot," you gave him a small smile when he leans down to kiss your belly. "Hey now, take it easy on your momma, or no more splashes for you," he mummers to your stomach. As if your daughter understood, she stops and starts gently kicking in another area. "Look, Angel, she listened to me!" he exclaims before pushing more water into your stomach. "Toru! You got water in my nose!" 

☾ TOJI FUSHIGURO 

"Are you okay, beautiful?" Toji inquired, concern evident in his eyes as he observes you holding your stomach with a furrowed expression. "Just a big kick from the baby," you struggle to get out, your stomach contracting. "C'mere--lemme make you feel better, baby," he whispered, sitting up on the headboard of the bed and pulling you between his open legs. "What are you doing, Toji?" You question as your husband reached towards the nightstand to grab something. "Makin’ my girl feel better–just lay down and relax," he whispers in your ear before placing a gentle kiss on your shoulder. With the cramps becoming unbearable, you had no other choice but to obey. Eyes squeezed tight, body resting on Toji’s toned chest, you tense when he starts to gently massage your stomach with what feels like lotion. A moan of relief escaped you involuntarily. "That’s right, let me take care of you," he mummers, continuing the soothing massage. 

☾ NANAMI KENTO 

"Are you ready to taste heaven, babies?" Nanami smiles warmly at your stomach as if expecting your unborn twins to give a response. Quickly, he leans down and places two affectionate kisses on your stomach, one for each baby. "C'mon, Kento, ’m hungry!" you pout, crossing your arms over your chest. Nanami was supposed to be giving you new food items that he found online, but the more he talks, the more it seems like he's eager for his children to be the taste testers rather than you. "You know they can’t actually give you a review, right?" you question your husband, but he ignores your sass and reaches for a plate. "Duh, ‘course I know that, but they're still going to taste it inside of you," he says as if it's the most obvious thing. "Yeah, all mashed up and mixed with a bunch of different foods. Now, give me that plate–I’m hungry!" you insist, reaching out for the plate as your husband laughs. 

☾ GETO SUGURU 

"I don’t think they like me," Suguru grumbles, and you laugh as your unborn child tries and fails to kick their father's head off your stomach. "Hell," Suguru yanks his head up and glares at your protruding stomach. "Hey, don’t cuss at my baby," you laugh. "I wouldn’t have to if my baby wasn’t trying to give me a concussion," he rolls his eyes dramatically before rubbing his calloused fingers on your stomach, The baby kicks at his hand. "Don't be so dramatic, Sugu," you roll your eyes at your husband as he continues to tease your child with his hand. "How do you think I feel when they’re kicking my bladder at three AM?" you laugh. "You better not come out as moody as your mommy," he taunts before pressing a soft kiss on your stomach. "I’ll give you whatever you want when you come out if you let me lay down in peace, deal?" he whispers to your stomach, and all he gets is a harsh kick. "Deserved.” You huff out. 

[night-dragon937]

currently holding back the urge to critique the entire gardening plot of this one shot and I'm being so brave about it

[asteralien]

haven't watched the last two loki eps. haven't watched the last two ofmd eps. haven't finished the last season of mythic quest. haven't listened to dndaddies in months. haven't listened to dungeons and drimbus in over a year. haven't haven't haven't. hng argh blah and so forth

[mortalityplays]

there's something I find really instructive about the whole thing with the columnist who was scammed into handing over her savings in a shoebox, that I haven't seen many people talk about.

plenty of people have justifiably laughed at her credulity for just accepting that she was dealing with the cia and doing whatever they said, and she mentions herself in the article the sense of crushing mortification that she was so ready to bow to any perceived authority. other people have discussed the value of the piece being its "it could happen to anyone" message, coming from a financial analyst who has written about avoiding scams, which is fine and does have value.

but what I find fascinating is the way it illustrates the secret power of a good scam artist or charismatic leader: they don't have to look or sound convincing to 99% of observers. they just have to be talented at picking up on the specific cues that work on one person. this is why they move so quickly to isolate their targets from everyone around them, and maintain intense pressure with ticking clocks and regular check-ins. the scam is not designed to hold up under even 5 minutes of close scrutiny, it's designed to bypass scrutiny by hitting emotional buttons on a specific individual. the stupider you feel after you cool off, the better they've done their job.

anyone interested in charismatic manipulation, whether scams, cults, or abusive relationships, has heard people say "I'd never fall for something like that". and every victim, in retrospect, says "I never thought I'd fall for something like that". there is no special pattern of stupidity, intelligence, vulnerability or confidence. the pattern is that the perpetrator recognises a thought or behaviour characteristic they can take advantage of. they're the ones selecting you. and that's why teaching people the underlying social mechanics of charismatic abuse is more effective than telling them about lists of individual scams to watch out for. the thing that works on you won't look like anything you've scoffed at, by nature. survival bias plane dot jpeg.

[osaemu]

GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ KISSIN' AND HOPE THEY CAUGHT US ❜❜

.ೃ࿐ streamer!au: you and him kiss—a lot—while the stream's still going, but neither of you notice

contents: fem!reader. pda written by someone who doesn't particularly like pda. gets a little suggestive around the end. inumaki tells satoru 'kys' multiple times. not proofread.

author's note: kissin' and hope they caught us, whether they like or not, i wanna show you off, i wanna show you offff

"i swear you guys are really out to get me," satoru groans, addressing the flood of comments filling up his chatbox. he spins around in his chair, tilting his head back and exhaling when he stops. you watch him shake his hair out of his eyes and grin at the camera, just like he does every time he's getting ready to end the stream.

"okay, guys, that's enough, i gotta go," satoru says, right on cue. he partially turns around and shoots a rueful smile your way, taking a quick moment to admire the way you look all cozied up on his couch. and it's only an added bonus that you're even wearing his hoodie—the same one he wore on your first date.

turning back to the screen, satoru stretches his arms and waves. "see ya tomorrow, can't wait. except for you, toji, and inumaki too. fuck you guys," he adds, snorting when he sees their replies just a moment later.

inumaki: kys!!!

inumaki has been kicked from the stream by satoru-gojo.

"aw, and we were almost about to set a new streak of one day without me kicking inumaki," satoru sighs, shaking his head dramatically. "maybe one day we'll even make it to two streams, but i think that'll take a couple centuries." satoru laughs and waves offhandedly, clicking the 'x' in the corner of his stream to end it.

he switches tabs to go back to his previous game's stats and turns around again, spinning his chair to face you. satoru opens his arms and beckons you with both his hands, a puppy-like shine in his eyes. "c'mere, lemme hold you for a little," he says, smiling wider when you begrudgingly get up from your spot on his couch.

"i was so comfy," you mumble, wrapping your arms around yourself as you walk over to satoru. if his stream was still on, you'd probably be on camera now.

"i'll make you even comfier," satoru insists, grabbing your hand and tugging you into his lap. his arms snake around your waist and hold you snugly against his chest, hands slipping into the pockets of your hoodie. "you look so cute, wearin' my hoodie like that," he smiles, kissing your cheek affectionately.

"satoru, your lips are cold," you grumble, leaning away from his mouth—but you don't put that much distance between you two, considering his snug grip on your torso. satoru ignores your protests and kisses you again, peppering kisses all over the side of your face.

"you're so—fuckin'—cute," satoru murmurs, punctuating each word with a kiss. his lips are soft and you can feel them warm up a little more with each press to your cheek. his minty breath tickles your face as he whispers sweet nothings against your skin, decorating your face with his lips.

"what's the occasion?" you ask tentatively, looking at satoru's blushing face out of the corner of your eye. he tilts his head and shrugs, and you feel his chest rise and fall as he does so.

"do i need an excuse to kiss my girlfriend?" satoru replies cheekily, rubbing your tummy through the pockets of your hoodie. "my hands are cold, baby, wanna warm them up?"

"huh—"

satoru doesn't wait for an answer before he tugs your hands into your pockets with his, hiding a smile at the little indignant sound you make. "you're so cute, i just wanna eat you up," satoru mumbles, scrunching up his nose. his white hair falls into his eyes for the thousandth time, and he blows out a puff of air in an attempt to clear up his vision. it doesn't work—his hair just falls right back into his eyes.

so you extract your hands from where they're clasped in between satoru's and brush back his hair, fingertips lingering on the sides of his face. he turns his head and presses his lips to the palm of one of your hands, cold lips curling into a smile at the cat-like look on your face.

"how was the stream today?" you ask, leaning into his chest. satoru shrugs again, kissing the top of your head.

"fine, i won a couple rounds," satoru says indifferently. his attention is on you, only you—right now, his stream and his games are at the back of his mind. "don't change the subject, baby."

you huff in disbelief, nudging your elbow against his chest. "what even was the subject?"

"me wanting to eat you up," satoru replies instantly. he grins playfully, hugging you tighter and burying his face in your hair. "c'mon, you know you wanna—"

the flickering red dot in the top-right corner of his screen catches your eye, and you practically flinch out of his arms. satoru looks at you, confusion evident on every part of his face. "what is it, baby?"

you groan and lean away from him and closer to his table, dragging the mouse over to one of his tabs and clicking it open. and just like that, satoru realizes that this entire time you've been live. to thousands of people. for five whole minutes.

"oops," satoru says with a sheepish smile, scratching his head bashfully. you turn and shoot a venomous look at him, and he laughs nervously. "oh, uh, that's my bad, honey—"

"you're dead," you mutter, grinning when satoru shrinks back into his chair. satoru swallows and gives you a thumbs-up, gently nudging you out of the way to check the comments.

yuuji-itadori: aw they're so cute together :)

toji-fushiguro: she can do so much better

inumaki: how does this loser have more streams than me. kys kys kys!!!!!

inumaki has been banned from the stream by satoru-gojo.

[theostrophywife]

agora hills.

pairing: lorenzo berkshire x reader.

song inspiration: agora hills by doja cat.

author's note: as always, this unhinged fic idea started in chlo and i's endless chats about these pesky men. enzo has a special place in my heart because he's so golden retriever sunshine (don't be fooled by that face though he's filthy).

Enzo Berkshire was your best friend. 

Despite what your friends seemed to think, the relationship between you two had always been strictly platonic. Perhaps it was easy to misinterpret your actions as romantic. After all, you and Enzo were very touchy and affectionate people. It was typical of you two to hold hands in the halls, cuddle in the common room, and even share the occasional cheek or forehead kiss, which you deemed completely normal. This type of behavior has been the standard since you were eleven years old. 

Still, you weren’t blind. You knew your best friend was attractive. Enzo had always been handsome in your eyes, but then fourth year rolled around and everyone else started to notice it too. To be fair, he had grown at least a foot over the summer and quidditch definitely helped him pack on lean muscle. Needless to say, girls flocked to him like a swarm of bees to honey, but he never really seemed interested in any of them. Not that you were paying attention. It was a natural thing to notice when you spent every waking moment with someone. 

The point of the matter was that you had absolutely no romantic feelings for Enzo whatsoever. Or so you thought. Until the bloody dream that flipped your friendship on its head. 

It was a normal day. You and Enzo were studying in your dorm like you usually did after class. Enzo was sprawled out on the rug scribbling away for his assignment on Ancient Runes. You were on your bed reading up on History of Magic. You knew you should be focusing since there would be a test tomorrow, but the chapter was boring and you were absolutely knackered from attending classes all day. 

Before you knew it, you were fully knocked out. A part of you was aware that you were dreaming, but the surreality of it blurred the lines of reality. 

In your dreams, you were still in your room studying with Enzo. Except your best friend was no longer hunched over his homework on your rug. Now Enzo was standing at the edge of your bed, blocking out the afternoon sun. You stared up in confusion as he took the book from your hands. 

“Enz? What are you doing?” 

Enzo stared intently at you, his soft hazel eyes flickering down to your lips. It was a little like being hit with a beam of sunshine. Your heart stuttered in your chest as he ran his thumb across your bottom lip. 

“I want to try something.”

You held your breath as Enzo leaned over. The bed dipped from his weight as you sat frozen in place. He rubbed soothing circles along your wrist, causing you to melt into his touch. It was a familiar sensation, one that always calmed you down but right at that moment, you felt anything but. The beat of your heart echoed so loudly that you were sure he could hear it. 

Enzo leaned in close, his face mere inches away from yours. He stroked your cheek gently. “I want to kiss you,” he murmured, the low whisper of his voice conjuring goosebumps along your arms. “Can I?”

You blinked, swallowing thickly. He was so close that you could smell the woodsy smell of his cologne, combined with a hint of fresh laundry and citrus. 

“Yes,” you responded breathily. 

Before you could think better of it, Enzo was kissing you. It was soft and sweet, his kisses gentle while he tested the waters. The quick little pecks soon evolved into deeper kisses as your body responded to his touch. Your hands moved outside of your own volition, fingers tangling in Enzo’s hair as you pulled him closer. He groaned and tilted your head back for a better angle, your bodies pressed close together and radiating heat underneath your clothes. 

Enzo scooted back on the headboard and pulled you into his lap without breaking the kiss. You gasped when his hands roamed underneath your skirt, gripping your thighs so that you were fully settled over his length. What started as a sweet innocent kiss escalated into a full on heated makeout session. Kissing till your lips were swollen. Moaning into each other’s mouths. Grasping at every inch of skin the two of you could reach. 

When you felt him grind his hardness against your backside, you gasped. Enzo took the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, swirling and sucking until you were panting above him. 

“Y/N,” he grunted huskily. “I need you.”

The desperation in Enzo’s voice made you shudder. You didn’t even think twice before unbuckling his belt and tugging his boxers down. Enzo groaned as he stroked himself, pulling your panties to the side. You whimpered as he teased his tip at your entrance. 

“I want you so fucking bad.”

“I want you too, Enzo.”

Friendship be damned, Enzo gripped your hips and watched as you sank into him. His eyes rolled back when he felt your warmth and wetness hug around his cock. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, resting his head in the crook of your neck. “Gods, you feel so fucking good. Better than I imagined.”

You clenched at his words and he inhaled sharply before rolling your hips to set the pace. Once you established a steady rhythm, Enzo pinned you with his lust blown gaze and watched as you rode him. He lavished you with sloppy kisses, stopping every now and then to moan into your mouth while you continued rolling your hips against him. 

“That’s it, princess. Feels good, yeah? Keep rolling your hips just like that,” Enzo said, thrusting upwards to fuck into you. “Wanna feel you cum on my cock, pretty girl.”

The filthy words sent you over the edge. Just as Enzo hit that perfect spot, your eyes flew open. 

You were startled to find yourself back in your dorm, warm, sweaty, and alone in bed. You nearly fell off altogether when you found Enzo still sitting on the rug below you. While you were dreaming about doing filthy things with him, Enzo was completely oblivious and focused on studying. Like you should’ve been. 

Enzo perked up, concern written all over his face when he saw how flushed you were. He immediately rushed over to your side. Your cheeks were so red that he thinks you might be running a fever. Enzo pressed the back of his hand against your forehead and you bit down on your bottom lip to keep yourself from moaning. 

“You’re burning up, Y/N.” Enzo sounded genuinely worried. If only he knew the reason why you currently shared the same temperature as the common room fireplace. “Maybe I should walk you over to the infirmary?” 

“No!” Your voice echoed shrilly in your dorm, causing you to wince. “I’m fine. I just…I just need fresh air.”

“Oh good, I’ll come walk with you.”

“No,” you said rather harshly. Enzo frowned. “I, uh, I think I should go alone.”

Now Enzo was truly perturbed. He pouted at your refusal. Why didn’t you want him to come? You always walked around the Black Lake together. 

“Are you sure you’re alright, Y/N?” 

He squinted at you, hoping to catch your gaze. You completely avoided looking him in the eyes before scrambling out of bed. 

“I’m fine, really. I’ll see you later, Enz.”

You were out the door before Enzo even had a chance to respond. 

You were acting like a bloody idiot. 

After that unfortunate afternoon, you spent the next few days avoiding Enzo. The dream had completely flustered you. It was impossible to be in the same room as your best friend. You couldn’t even look Enzo in the eyes without thinking of him being inside of you.  

More than that, it was making you rethink your entire friendship. You adored Enzo. He had been a constant in your life since first year. The two of you were inseparable and he was pretty much the most important person in your life. You had never once thought about him in a sexual manner, but obviously you were attracted to him given the filthy thoughts that flooded your mind like a plague. 

You were praying to Merlin that this stupid little lapse of yours would pass and take all the hormone addled aftereffects with it. Perhaps it was just lack of physical affection that was causing you to think this way. After all, you had broken up with your last boyfriend months ago. There was the casual hookup every now and then, but those never really satisfied you in the way that you wanted. It certainly wasn’t anything like how Enzo had been in your dream. 

As you cataloged and compared your most recent stints, the intrusive thought slipped in without warning. There were no secrets between you and Enzo, so you knew that it had been awhile since he hooked up with anyone else too. Come to think of it, except for a couple flings here and there, Enzo has never really had a serious relationship. 

You never really thought much about it. It wasn’t like you were running headfirst into commitment either, but now you couldn’t help but wonder why Enzo had never had a girlfriend. Were relationships just not his cup of tea? If so, why the bloody hell not?

By the time you had unraveled that string, Pansy was snapping her fingers in front of your face. You shook your head and rejoined the present. Before your little spiral, you and Pansy had been discussing the homework for Charms. 

Your friend narrowed her eyes on you. “Alright, spill,” Pansy said. “There’s clearly something on your mind.”

You peered around the common room. For the most part, it was empty. Only a few of the other Slytherins lingered in your midst, but one could never be too careful in the viper’s nest. 

Once you were sure the coast was clear, you leaned closer to Pansy and spoke in a low voice. “Have you ever had a dream about one of the guys?”

Pansy leaned back on the velvet emerald couch with an expression of intrigue. “What kind of dream?”

“You know,” you urged, picking at the cushion in your lap. “The sexual kind.”

She shook her head, her glossy bob shimmering in the faint light. “No, I can’t say that I have.” 

“I have!” Theo said cheerfully as he plopped down between you. His presence startled you, but he looked utterly unperturbed as he butted into the conversation. “About both of you, actually.”

You wrinkled your nose and smacked him on the arm. “Gross, Theo.”

“I’m inclined to agree,” Pansy said with a look of disgust.

Theo was deeply offended by it all. “What? I’ll have you know that I was very loving and gentle,” you groaned and made a gagging sound. “I also had one about Reg and that one wasn’t as gentle, if you know what I mean.”

He grinned cheekily, which only made you lament further. Pansy shook her head in disbelief. “Really, Regulus? He’s the human equivalent of a grumpy black cat. All the first years are terrified of him.”

Theo shrugged. “What can I say? I’m into that. All that surliness and those curls, y’know…”

It was Pansy’s turn to smack him. “For Salazar’s fucking sake, shut it, Theodore. I want to know who Y/N had a dream about.”

“Was it Riddle?” Theo prompted.

“Which one?”

“Mattheo, obviously. Tom looks like he hasn’t had a woman’s touch in years.”

“That’s mean!” you cut in. “I’m telling Tom you said that.”

“Please don’t. I value my life, thank you very much.”

Pansy scoffed. “It’s not either one of the Riddles then.”

“Was it me?” asked Theo. 

“Gods, no.”

He rolled his eyes in response. “It can’t be Blaise because him and Pans are shagging on the daily.” Theo’s eyes widened. “Don’t tell me it’s Malfoy.” 

“Absolutely not.”

“But he’s close, right?” Pansy said, tapping her chin thoughtfully. You nodded weakly. She gasped. “Oh my god, Berkshire? Really?”

You buried your face in your hands. You were truly going to die of embarrassment. Pansy continued with her assessment. “Well, you two are practically attached at the hip, so it makes sense. Still, I truly didn’t expect it to be Enzo. He’s so sweet, I just can’t see him that way.”

The shit-eating grin on Theo’s face made you cringe. “Was it good? It had to be, right? Is that why you’ve been avoiding him all week?” 

“What? I haven’t been avoiding him.”

“Sure you have,” declared Theo. “Berkshire’s all broken up about it. Thinks he’s done something to upset you. The whole time you’ve been nursing filthy little fantasies about sweet baby boy Enzo. Oh, I can’t wait to tell the guys about this.”

Panic seized you and Theo yelped as you held his arm in a death grip. “You can’t say a fucking word, Theo. Do you hear me? It’s already humiliating enough to have a sex dream about my best friend. I will literally murder you if you tell any of the boys.”

Theo sighed. “Fine, I won’t tell. Now let go of me, woman.”

“What are you going to do?” asked Pansy. “You can’t keep avoiding Enzo forever.”

You sighed. You were completely and utterly at a loss. Pansy was right. Enzo was already starting to suspect something and you felt bad that he thought he’d done something to upset you when you were the one in the wrong. How could you possibly act normal after all of this?

“Maybe you should ask him if he’s ever thought about you that way,” Theo suggested. “That way the ball’s in his court.” 

You scoffed. “I’m supposed to just come up to him and casually ask, Hey Enz, have you ever had a sex dream about me that was so filthy that you couldn’t make eye contact for days after?” 

“I guarantee you the answer will be yes.”

As you chided Theo for being his usual ridiculous self, Pansy discretely nudged you. Enzo rounded the corner and waved at the three of you. Theo and Pansy shared a look before leaving you to your own devices. Bloody traitors. 

Enzo was unbothered by their sudden departure. “Hi, love. I haven’t seen you all week. You haven’t been avoiding me, have you?” 

His tone was light and playful, but it still made you nervous as all hell. “No, not at all,” you internally cringed at the forced cheeriness in your voice. “I’ve just been…busy. Yeah, that’s it. No other reason.”

For Salazar’s fucking sake. You were horrible at this. Lying to Enzo wasn’t something you were used to. 

Enzo nodded. “Okay, well we’re still on for movie night, right?” 

“Oh, yeah, about that—“

“It shouldn't be a problem,” he added thoughtfully, shooting you a cheeky grin. “Unless you’re actually avoiding me.”

Fuck. Your mind was screaming at you to say no. To make up some lame excuse. To do something other than gape at Enzo. 

Unfortunately, your brain decided to stop working as soon as those dimples of his made an appearance. Merlin’s bloody beard, you truly needed to get a grip. 

You forced yourself to smile back so he wouldn’t think anything was amiss. “”I was just going to ask what snacks you wanted.”

“Just you,” Enzo said, his grin growing wider. Did his voice suddenly sound deeper than it had a few seconds ago? No, it was likely just your delusion. “That’s all I need.”

Later that night, Enzo arrived with the projector and a handful of movie choices. You spent the entire afternoon pacing and working yourself into a fit. He was entirely unaware of the cloud of anxiety hanging over you as he loaded up your favorite movie. 

Your dorm had never felt as cramped as it did at this moment. Enzo plopped down on your bed. The scene of the crime. You climbed in on the other end and resigned yourself to sitting perfectly upright and rigid while he made himself comfortable. Enzo looked at you strangely. Usually, the two of you would be cuddling. 

“What are you doing all the way over there?” Enzo asked, spreading his arms out. “Come cuddle.”

You sighed internally. This felt like tempting fate, but what could you do? If you refused, Enzo would definitely know that something was up. As slow as a snail, you scooted closer to his side. He took one look at you and shook his head before hauling you over to him. Besides being manhandled, the position was quite familiar. You tucked against his side, head resting on his shoulder while he nuzzled his cheek against your hair. 

Enzo pressed play and you started to relax while the movie unfolded. The peace didn’t last for long. As the opening scene played, Enzo absentmindedly tugged at the hem of your shirt. Again, his affectionate nature wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. Yet you couldn’t help but hold your breath as he rubbed soothing circles against your hip. While the gesture usually comforted you, it had the opposite effect now. 

“You’re so tense, love,” Enzo murmured. His voice sounded so deep and delicious.

“It’s been a stressful week.”

“I bet.” 

You shuddered as he trailed his fingers over your spine, drawing patterns along your skin. Temptation wasn’t knocking at your door. It was kicking it down altogether. Enzo shifted, brushing his knuckles just below the hook of your bra. 

“This can’t be comfortable,” he said, hooking a finger around the band. “Maybe you’ll feel more relaxed with it off. Don’t you think so, sweetheart?” 

There was no time to analyze what the fuck was going on. All of your efforts were spent solely on fighting the urge to moan. Enzo toyed with the band, waiting for your answer. 

“Yeah,” you said breathily. “I think—I think you’re right.”

“Course I am. Let me take it off for you then, yeah?” 

“Okay.” 

Enzo unhooked your bra with a flick of his fingers. Almost like he had long mastered the art and this was merely just child’s play. He helped you shrug out of your bra and carelessly tossed it to the side. You sighed softly as Enzo switched to long, purposeful strokes. He started at your hips, then your stomach, gradually moving up until he was barely an inch away from the underside of your breasts. Your eyes fluttered close, completely lost to his touch. They opened again when Enzo nuzzled his nose against yours. 

“Hi,” he said with a smile. 

“Hi,” you whispered. “What are we doing, Enzo?” 

“Nothing that I haven’t thought about a million times over.”

“You’ve thought about me like this?” 

“I’m always thinking about you,” Enzo admitted. “Sometimes it’s just cuddling or holding hands. Just sweet stuff cause I love touching you like this, but other times…other times I dream about you like you dreamt about me.”

Your breath hitched. “You know about my dream?” 

“I heard you in the common room earlier.”

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I don’t know what came over me. That’s why I haven’t talked to you much this week. I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

Enzo took your hand and slid it down the front of his gray sweatpants. You gasped when you felt how hard he was against your palm. “Do I feel uncomfortable to you, sweetheart?”

You shook your head, biting down on your lip. You didn’t trust yourself with words at the moment. Enzo nuzzled against you, littering soft little kisses in his wake. He pecked and nipped at your neck, your collarbone, your jaw. 

“You drive me fucking mad, you know that? I want you so badly I’d literally get on my knees and beg if you asked.”

The tension was too much for you to bear. You pulled him in by the front of his shirt and pressed your lips against his. Enzo groaned into your mouth. The hand underneath your shirt crawled up until he was cupping your tits, rubbing his thumb over your nipples. Enzo tried to keep the kisses soft. He intended to savor it, but every ounce of self control went out the window the second he heard you moan. 

Enzo flipped you over so that you were straddling his lap. He looked down and realized that you were wearing one of his old shirts and the sight of it made him even harder. The tiny shorts you were wearing was a pesky little barrier, but it didn’t stop him from grinding his hardness against your ass. He tugged at the hem of your shirt. 

“Take this off, right now. I need to feel you, pretty girl.”

He watched as you peeled off the shirt. Enzo did the same, tossing both articles of clothing over the side of your bed. He groaned at the skin to skin contact. Enzo smiled as he drank it all in. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful.”

“You’re not bad to look at either, Enz.”

Enzo chuckled. “Cheeky girl. Come on, then. Shorts off too.”

You took off your shorts as Enzo slipped out of his sweatpants and boxers. He kissed you again, sloppy, filthy, and downright obscene. There was plenty of panting and groping as the two of you explored each other’s bodies. Enzo practically purred into your ear as you rubbed over his shaft. He felt like velvet in your hands. When you flicked your thumb to spread the bead of precum over his tip, Enzo released an animalistic growl. 

“Oh fuck,” he whimpered. “Gods, I need to be inside of you right fucking now or I’ll die.”

There was no time to slide off your panties. Enzo merely yanked it to the side and guided you over him. He kept his eyes on you as you sank down slowly, taking him inch by inch. Enzo groaned, digging his fingers into your hips while you adjusted to his size.

“Goddamn, you’re so wet and so fucking tight.” 

You had no idea that such filthy words could sound like music in your ears. Enzo may have been sweet as sugar, but you knew that he wasn’t innocent. He was far too cheeky to be anything but downright dirty in bed. 

Enzo was also extremely responsive. He made sure to praise and worship like your body was an altar and he was the most pious believer. 

“Enz, gods,” you moaned as he flicked his tongue over your nipple. “You’re really good at that.” 

“Yeah?” He asked cheekily. “You think so?” 

You chuckled. It was such an Enzo comment. If you weren’t actively losing your mind, you might’ve rolled your eyes at him. Whatever fantasy your mind has conjured paled in comparison to reality. Sex with Enzo was easy. You knew him and you trusted him. It was like breathing air. 

Every moan and whimper only helped you grow more and more attuned with each other’s bodies. The sounds you made were a special language of its own, one that only you and Enzo understood.

“That’s it, princess. You’re taking me so well.” 

“Like that?” you asked, rolling your hips. 

Enzo groaned in response, which made you smirk in satisfaction. He chuckled and kissed you deeply. “Ride me harder, sweetheart. Fuck…yeah just like that.” 

He moaned into your mouth, meeting the roll of your hips with thrusts of his own. Enzo pressed his forehead against your, his long lashes kissing the tops of your cheekbones while he pressed you closer. The deep angle in which he drove into you had you clawing at his back. 

“Oh gods, oh fuck. I can feel you clenching around me, pretty girl. You’re gonna cum for me like a good girl, yeah?”

“I’m so close.” Enzo flipped you onto your back and fucked you into the mattress. The tension uncoiled in your core until you were panting, chasing after that sweet release. “Oh—oh gods, Enzo.”

The orgasm knocked the very breath from your lungs. It was a total out of body experience. Your back arched, your toes curled, and you screamed his name, but none of it registered past the pleasure of coming. As soon as Enzo felt you creaming him from base to tip, he came too. 

It was strangely beautiful to watch. Enzo was mesmerizing. With his sweat slicked skin and swollen lips, strands of his dark hair clinging onto his flushed cheeks. You’ve never seen such a pretty sight. 

The two of you stayed curled up into each other. Enzo slowly pulled out and placed a tender kiss on your temple. This time, there wasn’t a single hint of hesitation as you cuddled up against his side. He was warm and comfortable, lulling you into sleep as he tangled his long legs with yours. 

You didn’t know how long you drifted off. It only felt like a few seconds later when you found yourself on your stomach, blinking sleepily up at Enzo. He smiled, kissing along your spine as he pried your legs apart. You groaned into the pillow as he thrusted lazily from behind. 

It was dark as night outside when you were finally done. You couldn’t even remember how many times he made you cum. All you knew was that you were in complete bliss as you and Enzo sprawled out on your sheets. 

You looked up at Enzo. He looked down at you. The two of you burst into a nervous fit of giggles.

“Shit. Did we just—“

He nodded, curling a strand of your hair through his fingers. “Yeah, we definitely did. Two. Three. Four times? I honestly lost count.” 

You chuckled softly. There was a moment of silence as you collected yourself. Enzo lowered himself down so that you were facing each other. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” He asked, nudging your cheek with his nose. “Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours, pretty girl.” 

Despite your steamy activities, you had never felt more shy than when he brushed his lips across your knuckles. 

“I care about you, Enzo and I know you care about me too. Tonight was….fuck. Tonight was great. I just want to make sure this doesn’t change our friendship.”

“Of course it’s going to change things,” Enzo said matter-of-factly. “You think I can stay just friends with you after that?” 

You swallowed thickly. “I don’t want you to feel obligated. I know you don’t really date. I mean, half the school’s asked you out and you’ve turned them all down, so I’m not expecting to be the exception. It’s alright if you just want this to be casual.”

“I don’t. I’ve said no to everyone because I’ve been waiting for you. You are the exception, Y/N. It’s always been you.” 

“Really?” you whispered, biting back a smile. “You mean that?” 

Enzo nodded and kissed your fingertips. “Sweetheart, you’ve had me in the palm of your hands since we were eleven. Of course I mean it.” 

You didn’t try to hide your smile. You were absolutely beaming. “So you don’t want things to be casual?”

“There’s nothing casual about what I feel for you.” 

“Okay,” you said, processing his revelation. “I don’t want things to be casual either. It might be selfish, but I think I want you all to myself, Enzo.” 

He released a sigh of relief. “Oh thank fucking Merlin. I want you all to myself too, Y/N.”

[ozarkthedog]

𝐊𝐍𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐏

summary: joel fingers you for the first time in his truck.

warnings: 18+ mdni. joel miller x afab!reader. no physical descriptors of reader. fingering (pussy and ass). heavy ass play. Joel being a fucking menace. no beta. w.c: 823

author's note: had this thot for the last few days and had to write it out before i went insane but now i'm taking you all with meeee

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ⋅ 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 ⋅ 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

Joel's two knuckles deep in your cunt while an old country tune quietly floats from the radio into his dimly lit truck that's parked on the side of a dusty road. He languidly fucks his thick digits between your sopping folds, each thrust making your breath hitch more than the last. 

He's taking it slow, figuring out what spots make your cunt spasm and quiver for the very first time. It's a mess of limbs in the front seat; your skirt is rucked up your hips, legs bent at the knee, and he's holding you against his side, cradling your head in the crook of his arm.

"Righ' 'ere?" he grits, swallowing hard as you clamp around his fingers. 

You grab at his worn button-up, tightly fisting the material with a needy whine as a wave of pleasure burns deep, and he doubles his efforts with a twist of his wrist. "That's it. Come on, pretty girl, there you go."

Joel curls his fingers, seeking the fleshy spot behind your clit that makes you see stars and forces you to the edge listening with perverted delight to your frantic cries.

He leaves his fingers in your obscenely wet pussy just a bit longer, enjoying the feeling of your cunt convulsing from the aftershocks. He teases his soaked fingers along your slit when he withdraws them, toying with your folds and puffy, hairy outer lips before moving south.

A gasp catches in your throat as he cautiously circles your rosebud.

"Ever been touched 'ere?" Bright moonlight casts off his dark coffee-colored eyes as he searches your face for discomfort.

All you can muster is a broken "No," and he hums a deep rumble. It sounds like the beginning of a summer storm, and the ominous tone sets a blazing fire in your belly.

"s'ok if I keep goin'?" he asks, timidly looking down at you through his lashes. He shifts his hips, grinding his cock against your outer thigh. You mewl upon feeling his hard, throbbing length through his jeans.

You dumbly nod, and a sly grin tugs at the corner of his lips. 

Your mouth drops open, panting, as he slowly presses one thick digit into your ass. He curses at your tightness but keeps moving until his knuckles graze the soft globes of your cheeks. "S'fuckin' tight lil' ass you got there, sweetheart." He croons, nudging his nose along your jaw and tipping your head back before branding you with a searing kiss.

You moan wantonly as he licks into your mouth and starts slowly fucking you. "Tell me how it feels." He husks, breaking the kiss.

His lips latch onto your neck, sucking and nipping his way down to your clavicle as your mind searches for anything remotely resembling words.

A mess of mumbled moans and broken curses stumble from your lips into the small truck cabin. Your hips move on their own, wanting his finger deeper and faster, but he never breaks his steady stride. He chuckles against your skin. "This sweet rose wants more, huh? First time bein' touched, and she's already gettin' greedy."

He leans back, pinning his eyes on where he's stretching you open, and groans at the filthy sight of his syrupy, thick fingers stretching your small, shiny hole. He meets your wild doe eyes with a wolfish grin before pursing his lips and spitting.

The shock of his warm spittle landing on the rim of your sensitive hole makes your insides violently churn, and a yearning, brazen moan spills from your lips.

"Gotta make sure it's nice n' wet," he says while lining up a second finger, still piercing your gaze. "Don't wanna hurt 'er."  

He watches your face twist from the pressure as he slowly glides two sizeable fingers into your snug hole. "S'ok, you can take it," he calmly encourages, kissing the pinched skin between your brows. 

He raises his thumb up and over your pusling, weepy core, and plants the heavy pad on your clit. He suffocates the tiny button, earning himself a full-on quiver and high-pitched wail from your defenseless, blissed-out body. 

"Thatta girl. Feels good, don't it?" he grunts, thrusting his fingers deeper.

A solid buzz blossoms in your veins under his wicked touch. The dual action he's doling out with his insanely massive hand makes your eyes roll into the back of your head. So overcome with the depraved rapture, you can't help but give in to the delirium.  

"Can feel you loosenin' up. S'good girl," he coos, smiling down at you even though your eyes are crossed dumb from the sheer euphoria racing through your veins. 

"Pretty soon, she'll be stretched around my cock." he informs, hissing when he feels you tighten at his words. Your mouth falls open with a silent wail, and your spine bends like a bow ready to strike as he purrs sinfully in your ear. "Tha's righ'. Gonna make this sweet rose take every fuckin' inch."  

feel free to scream at me -> 💌

->reblogs & comments are extremely appreciated!<-

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[empresskylo]

➠𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈; 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓; 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓

ZOMBIE!SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY X AFAB!READER

SUMMARY | Simon is dead. And you were forced to leave him behind as the rise of the dead took over. When you volunteer to sneak back into base to grab med supplies, you don't expect to run into Simon—alive, but certainly not himself...

WARNINGS | dead dove do not eat! this is literally smut about zombie!ghost... so... beware i suppose. gore. dub-con?? afab!reader. wc 3k

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ lock me up! send me to jail!!! i can't believe I wrote this yes i can. This is how down bad i am for Ghost, I literally wrote smut about fucking him as a zombie... someone send the authorities, i need my internet taken away. (happy oct 1st btw)

𝐜𝐨𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

It had been less than two days since you lost Simon.

The image of him dying in the infirmary wing, bleeding out on the bed, was plastered behind your eyes. You saw it every waking moment and even dreamt of it during the night. You could still feel Soap’s hands squeezing your arms far too aggressively as he dragged you out of the infirmary while you cried out for Simon. You tried to claw your way to him but Soap was stronger than you by a long shot. “We have to get out of here!” he shouted at you over the cacophony of voices, people running around frantically. You let him drag you away to safety, your body limp in his hold, thinking of Simon’s dying breath.

The infirmary had promptly been boarded up, the doors all sealed tight. The breakout had begun a few weeks ago and it only just infiltrated the base. When Ghost had come back, bleeding out after a mission gone wrong, you furiously checked him for bite marks. The relief you felt when you didn’t find any was short-lived. Simon had lost a lot of blood. Too much blood. You could still see it covering your hands the days following like a wraith. You felt like his blood was still wedged under your fingernails even after scrubbing your hands violently in a bucket of water. 

With the infirmary infected and the outside world gone, you had little options but to hunker down in the barracks. There were small hunting groups that would leave base and dare to edge into the city, trying to help people, and gathering resources. Ghost had been in one of those first groups to leave the safe confines of base. You wished you had begged him to stay. Pleaded with him not to go. 

The lights above you flickered, the generator not the most reliable of equipment. You looked across the table to your teammates, trying to keep yourself pulled together. It was only at night that you let yourself feel the pain, crying yourself to sleep. 

“We’re never gonna survive here if we don’t get that medical supplies,” Soap explained. 

“It’s too dangerous, Soap. We have no idea how bad it got in there. We have no way of knowing if all the bodies left behind turned,” Price retorted, pulling off his beanie and running his hand through his hair in nerves. 

“So, what then? We’re gonna send more men off to die, tryin’ to get shit from the city?”

Price closed his eyes momentarily. The bags forming under them showed just how little sleep he was getting. “We can’t risk more men. We’d be sendin’ them to their death, Soap. We don’t have the ammo to spare.”

“We don’t know that. We’re still not even sure if it's a guarantee the dead will change, or if they have to be bit.”

“It’s too–”

You cut the men off. “I can go.” Both their heads snapped in your direction. “I’m just a technician. With everything gone to shit, I haven’t been as much help as you guys have been. I can’t fight. I can’t–”

“No. We’re not riskin’ you,” Soap said sternly. 

“Soap,” you breathed. “I’m the only one here that isn’t crucial to the team. And don’t argue with me. It’s just a fact. Let me go. I can sneak in and grab what we need. I’m far quieter than any of you boisterous men anyways.”

Soap breathed your name. He was worried about you. He could see the pain in your eyes after losing Simon. He was worried this was a suicide mission. And that you wanted that. 

“Let me be of use,” you begged. Soap wanted to argue. So did Price. But you were right. You would be the fastest. And as much as they valued you, the remaining men couldn’t survive here without Soap or Price. 

“Lass, are you sure?” Soap said finally. He wanted you to feel useful, but he didn’t want you running off and risking your life because of the pain you felt from losing Simon. 

“Let me do it, Soap. Please. I need this.”

He couldn’t argue with you. He didn’t have it in him to hurt you more than you were already hurting. 

“Fine. But I’m not happy about this.”

You stood in your gear, an empty backpack plastered to your back waiting to be filled with medical supplies. Price had gone over the layout of the wing with you, showing you exactly where you needed to go to get the right supplies on a map of the building. 

You stood before the infirmary doors, the ones that would lead to a long, winding hall that would bring you to the center of the infirmary. Off of that were several rooms and more halls, and a surgical floor. It was a large span of space to cover, but you believed you could do this. 

“Be quick about it, lass. We’ll be right here when you get back,” Soap said to you, his hand resting on your shoulder. 

You took in a breath and walked up to the doors that had been unlocked, a large piece of plywood that had previously been nailed against it, removed so you could go in. Before you reached out to the door handle, you turned around and rushed into Soap’s arms. He held you tightly, your head tucked right under his chin. “Don’t you fuckin’ die on me,” he mumbled into your hair. 

You pulled back and gave him a sad smile. Then you nodded at Price and faced the daunting doors again. Once you stepped through the threshold and the doors shut behind you, you could hear the plywood being put back up, a hammer nailing it in place. When you got back, you were to knock and Soap would be there waiting to let you back in. 

The hall was flickering with a few overhead lights, the generator still powering a few of the rooms in this wing. 

Ghost had a glazed-over expression when he rolled off his medical bed. The room around him was silent apart from the ticking of a clock in the corner. There was blood pooled all around him and dripping onto the tiled floor as he stood. He had some semblance of who he was, of what happened, but most of his thoughts were hazed over like he was stuck in a daydream. 

He had walked the length of the room, a sudden craving for food hitting the pit of his stomach. Any sound made him snap in that direction, rushing towards it as if on cue. He heard banging coming from one of the med rooms, the door locked and nailed over with whatever scrap of wood they could find. More people like him were trapped behind those doors, their groaning echoing down the hall. 

Ghost limped as he walked, remembering how he had been shot in his leg. He looked down at his crimson-stained pants, almost like he should be feeling pain, but he felt nothing. 

Days had passed and he roamed the halls aimlessly, not even getting bored. His mind had drifted off, somewhere that wasn’t in his body, allowing him to walk around like a zombie, completely void of any logical thought. 

He grumbled as he made his rounds, stuck in a time loop, walking down the flickering hall again and again, passing by bodies that had been left behind. 

He hesitated when he heard something. He turned to look in the direction of the noise, intrigued. It sounded like someone had just walked blindly into a metal medical tray, knocking instruments onto the floor. His movements were fast and nimble as he approached the sound. 

He froze in place when he saw you–though he didn’t know who you were at that moment. You cursed yourself for being loud but didn’t hear anything in retaliation so you figured you were safe. Your hand rested on the knife strapped to your hip anyway.

You were edging towards the main infirmary double doors, your hand touching the metal of the handle. You should go in there and get supplies, but that’s where you had last seen Simon. You didn’t have it in you to see what had become of him, his body rotting alone. 

Instead, you walked down the hall and into a storage closet, oblivious to the shell of Ghost who trailed behind you. 

You left the door to the storage room open to let in a few strips of light so you could see better. You hunched over and began to dig through the supplies that had been thrown all over the floor in panic. 

Ghost rolled his neck as he saw you in the room, your back to him. He had a sudden urge to sink his teeth deep into your skin, to tear you to shreds. In fact, he wanted nothing more; the instinct was overpowering. 

But when he got close, he could hear your voice as you mumbled to yourself, going over the list of the items you needed. You held up a pack of linens, trying to see if they were clean. “These will have to do,” you said softly, shoving them into your backpack. 

A wave of familiarity surfaced inside Ghost, a strange feeling of being alive pumping through his veins. When he got to the doorframe, he could smell you. His senses heightened, the waft of your natural scent sent Ghost into a daze. He remembered—though he wasn’t sure what he was remembering. All he knew was that he recognized that smell. 

His body had felt like it was in hibernation, his motors set on autopilot as he mindlessly walked down the halls. But suddenly, Ghost’s true mind was brought to the forefront. And his body craved you, though not in the way he had just moments earlier. He didn’t want to sink his teeth into your neck, he wanted to feel your warmth against him. 

Ghost moved with such dexterity and silence, it was clear he was no longer human. When you stood, his arms immediately wrapped around you, eliciting a scream from your throat. 

Ghost still wasn’t fully comprehending what was happening; all he knew was that his body wanted you. His hand slid up around your neck, leaving a trail of blood on your clothes. He tried to speak, but he couldn't fathom what he wanted to say. All that came out was a strangled groan. 

You sputtered, trying to catch your breath as your heart raced in your chest. Ghost felt for your pulse beneath his fingertips, relishing in the way your blood pumped through your body. 

You turned your head slightly, spying the man who had you trapped against the many shelves in the closet.

It was Simon.

Terror flooded your system. He didn’t look like himself. His eyes were glossed over, his pupils and iris almost unidentifiable, the entirety of his eyes were white, appearing like he was blind. The blood that had soaked his face had congealed, the rusted color running down his clothes where he was shot in the chest and leg. He looked just how you left him, and it sent a sense of terror through you. 

“S-Simon?” You whispered, unsure if you were caught in a nightmare. 

A groan escaped his cracked lips. You gulped. He had become one of them . 

You were certain he was about to tear you apart, just as you had seen other fallen men do to your teammates. You closed your eyes, tears rushing down your cheeks as you prepared for the worst. His hands felt cold around your neck, like ice. You shivered against him. You accepted your fate—a small part of you actually wanted it. You wanted him to end you. To take you down with him. You didn't want to be alone anymore.

He nuzzled his nose against your neck and you squeezed your eyes shut, preparing for him to bite you. But it never came. 

Instead, he just moved his nose against you, smelling your hair and skin. His hands were still locked tightly against you, but they began to travel across your body. You opened your eyes in shock. Ghost’s hands trailed your chest, groping you with one hand, the other sprawling over the front of your thigh and stomach. You gasped in surprise. 

You felt him harden against you, something you had experienced many times before now, and the familiarity of it made your heart pound with mixed emotions. Your mind was too caught up trying to decipher what was happening to truly take the moment in. 

Ghost’s cold hands slid under your black shirt, snaking their way up to your breasts, cupping each one in his hands. Your nipples immediately hardened from the iciness of his touch. He ground himself against your backside, making you close your eyes in a moment of reprieve. You got lost in the past, imagining this was how it used to be. How he had touched you so many times before. 

You breathed his name and he seemed to like that, for he rolled his hips against you harder, his chest rumbling in satisfaction. 

The cold of his hands left you, making you oddly yearn to have them back on your skin. His fingers traced the hem of your pants before aggressively pulling them down. He got them past the curve of your ass and turned your bodies so your hips hit the edge of a shelving unit that acted as a table. You knocked all the supplies off as Ghost pushed you down against it, using your hands to catch yourself. 

Ghost shuffled with his own pants, wasting no time at all to slip himself inside you. You called out in a brief shock of pain. He held himself deep within you, his hands squeezing as he held you, his body bent over slightly, his chest flat against your back. Your own hands reached out to grab the edge of the table to help steady yourself. The searing heat of you against his frozen skin spread through him like wildfire.

Your cries ignited a flame in Ghost’s chest—the feel of your body, the sound of your gasps, the smell of your hair—felt natural, like this was exactly what he was supposed to be doing. That he was made to take you like this. That your body against him was something so ingrained in his system, that he had no choice to to let his limbs move on muscle memory. 

He began to thrust inside you, your hips hitting the table with each snap of his hips. His hand snaked around your neck, the smear of blood now coating your skin. One of your hands came up to wrap around his wrist, resting it there in support. 

You groaned as he rocked into you harder. The pain from his sudden intrusion had subsided, and now you were filled with a haze of rapture. A tear slid down your cheek. You were unable to process what was happening, but what you did know was that you had missed Simon more than anything and that this wasn’t real. This wouldn’t last longer than this moment in time. 

Ghost’s chest rumbled in pleasure as he thrusted into you. Your walls squeezed around him and he let out a loud groan. His arm not clutching your neck wrapped around your midsection, pulling you away from the table so you were flesh against him. He held you tight, almost like he couldn’t get you close enough. That if he had his way, he’d let you make a home beneath his skin. 

His hips snapped vehemently against you, his pace quickening. You moaned, your sounds coming out strangled as his cold hand held your neck. Your walls tightened around him, your climax rapidly approaching. You couldn’t quite believe that you were not only fucking your dead boyfriend, but you were going to come in record time. 

You were absolutely intoxicating to him as your warmth clenched down on him, your heat something recognizable to him, and yet, the intimacy was foreign at the same time. Now that he was devoid of his usual body temperature, the warm feeling of you around him was almost painful. 

When you mewled and cried under him, your walls spasaming, he drew himself to the edge right behind you. Ghost came inside you with a great urge, growling in your ear as he tried to support the two of you. You felt him fill you, the white fluid seeping out around where his cock continued to pump in and out of you. His movements became sloppy, your legs shaking, your hand clutching onto his wrist for dear life. 

You couldn’t hold back the cascade of tears, finally letting them flow as Ghost slowed his pace before stopping altogether. He edged out of you, his arms hesitantly letting you go, and you immediately turned around to face him, burying your face in his chest. You sobbed as he stood there. His arms didn’t reach out and hold you like he once would. He didn’t try to comfort you like he always did so well. 

But still, he just let you huddle against him, taking what you needed from him. He didn’t attack you. He didn’t try to kill you. He wasn’t himself, but he wasn’t fully gone either. You turned to look up at him, resting your chin on his chest. He looked down and you stifled a cry. His white eyes were going to be permanently burned into your mind, haunting you for eternity. His face was sullen and blanched, blood smearing all across him; fresh blood dripping slightly from his mouth.

You tentatively reached a hand up and rested it on his frozen cheek. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled. Ghost made no indication he could even hear you. 

You took in a deep breath, willing yourself to do this, and stepped back. You adjusted yourself before slowly reaching down for your bag. Ghost stood and watched you, the only thing moving was the tilt of his head as he traced your movements. 

You shuffled to the door, anticipating him to reach out and end this daydream, ripping you apart. But he just watched you go, his mind riddled with foggy thoughts. He wanted to tear into you, but another part of him prevented him from doing so. He wanted to grab you and hold you against him for some reason. He liked the warmth your body provided. But another part of him felt nothing at all. 

He watched you leave in a stupor, his mind just barely grasping onto the image and memory of you. It’s true, he wasn’t completely gone, but he was fading fast. 

You cried violently as you stumbled back to the exit. When you banged on the doors, you heard the plywood being ripped off and the doors swinging open. Soap pulled you back into the base and held you at arm's length. “What happened?” he asked desperately. You were sobbing and covered in blood.

Should you tell him? Would Soap let you return to Simon knowing he wasn’t gone? Or would they make you stay here, letting Simon slip away forever? 

You suddenly regretted leaving him. You should have stayed with Simon, even if he was a shell of who he used to be. You should have waited the time out together until he fully lost himself, and you would let him take you down with him.