#i'm feeling the strong urge to show my full face on here just so I can show off my cosplay...

[hard-core-super-star]

why we ever [K.Bishop]

pairing: vampire!kate bishop x reader

summary: forgiveness comes in many different shapes. thankfully, you and kate find the one that works best for both of you.

warnings: SMUT -> MINORS DNI! [porn with a lot of feelings and some plot; blood and hot vampire fangs; fingersucking {with blood involved}; kate loves neck kisses; kate's a MASSIVE tease and cocky about it; dashes of praise and a smidge of degradation; cunnilingus {kate receiving}; fingering {kate receiving}; so much playful arguing; r gets left high and dry but shhhh]

wordcount: 3.9k

a/n: WOULD YOU BELIEVE IT? T'S FINALLY HERE! i'm not saying this the last part of this wonderful AU but...it might be. i absolutely fell in love with vampire!kate though AND this AU so maybe i'll do more with it later. for now, this is the end...until i decide to get over myself and post it as a full story on both wattpad and ao3. anyway, thank you for coming along with me on this special ride, i hope you enjoyed it as much as i did <3 [oh and friendly reminder that my commissions are open :) ]

part one | part two | part three |

* * * * * * *

If you had a nickel for every time you had a heated make-out session with Kate Bishop while she was slightly injured, you would have two nickels. It’s not a lot but you’re pretty sure the universe is plotting against you. Not to do anything particularly harmful to you…unless making out with a ridiculously hot and complicated vampire is harmful.

Although, considering your current situation, maybe it is harmful.

You’re honestly starting to believe the archer is going to be the death of you. And not because she’s a blood-sucker but because she’s the best kisser you’ve ever met. 

With the softest wandering hands. 

Hands that are currently gripping your waist so hard, you’re pretty sure there’ll be bruises there tomorrow…not that you’d mind. It wouldn’t be the worst reminder of her you’ve ever had.

“y/n…” Her voice startles you despite how soft it is.

You hum in response, pulling back just enough to be able to make eye contact with her. “Yeah?”

“Come here.” Her tone leaves no room for argument and yet you can’t resist the urge to get under her skin just a bit.

“So you can bleed out all over my bed?” You question while doing your best to ignore the irony in your words. “I’m gonna pass.”

She stares at you with her eyes slightly narrowed and you wait for the annoyed remark that’s sure to follow. Except it doesn’t come and you’re suddenly reminded you don’t know nearly enough about Kate’s weird vampire powers. All you really know is her fangs are hot as hell and she’s surprisingly strong.

But she’s apparently also freakishly fast because all you do is blink and suddenly she’s laying you down on your bed and hovering over you with that same old smirk. “You were saying?”

“You’re insufferable.” Despite your words, you wrap your arms around her and pull her closer, savoring the warmth of her body against yours.

It’s embarrassing to admit how much you’ve missed this. How much you’ve missed her. How despite all the anger and the snark, you instantly melt into her again. As if she didn’t ruin your life without a care in the world.

You know it’s a lot more complicated than that and yet a part of you still holds on to that. To how quickly she would have let you go if you hadn’t been accidentally bonded to each other.

“Why are you thinking so much?” She’s clearly trying to tease you but there’s a hint of concern in her voice that’s hard to hide.

“One of us has to and it’s clearly not going to be you.”

The pout that crosses her face is equal parts ridiculous and adorable. “You’re so mean.”

“Shut up and kiss me, idiot.”

It’s unusual but Kate actually listens to you for once. Although maybe that’s just because kissing you seems to be the only thing on her mind since she showed up outside your window looking as beautiful as ever.

Either way, you kiss her back eagerly, allowing your hands to travel up and tangle in her hair. The urge to tug on the silky locks rises up inside you all at once and before you know it, you’re pulling on her hair. 

The noise she lets out at the sensation borders on sinful and it’s impossible to hide your satisfied smile. You pull a little harder, just enough to detach her from your lips and take in the way her eyes flutter closed.

You’re about to tease her for her borderline desperate reactions when you notice how pale and shaky she is. The overwhelming wave of desire that had been building inside of you instantly dies down as concern takes over.

“Kate,” you say. “You’re shaking.”

She ignores your words in favor of kissing you again and even though you want to yell at her for being irresponsible, you can’t resist kissing her back. You can’t even begin to imagine how many times you’ve thought about this very moment…except in your dreams, she wasn’t shaking like a stubborn leaf clinging to a tree branch.

Despite her strength, it’s obvious she’s having a hard time holding herself above you. She tries to distract you by pulling away from your lips and attaching herself to your neck. It’s a pretty effective move yet all it does is remind you of the question you’ve been meaning to ask since she mentioned she hadn’t bitten anyone in a while.

You tilt your head back just enough to give her better access to your neck. You barely manage to hold back a whimper as her teeth graze your skin. “When, um, was the last time you…fed?”

Her silence is enough of an answer.

“Uh…quite a while,” she murmurs, practically hiding her face in your neck. “I had a replacement for a while but I ran out a few days ago.”

You’re not an expert in this field but your common sense is strong enough to tell you that can’t be good. And suddenly the infection she’s fighting off makes perfect sense.

“A few days? And then you decided to go get your ass kicked?”

“Wrong,” she replies with a playful glare. “I didn’t get my ass kicked, I…was just a little slower than usual.”

“A little?” You raise an eyebrow.

“Shut up,” she grumbles.

You chuckle in response before an idea hits you. It seems obvious and yet your heart skips a beat while you think it over. The memory of Kate’s fangs on your neck still lingers in your mind…along with the intense flood of pleasure it brought.

“Kate.” The shakiness of your voice is more than enough to get her attention. “You could…you know, from me.”

Her eyes widen slightly but she can’t quite hide the excited smile that starts to pull at her lips. “You want me to bite you?”

You want to roll your eyes at her for using such a casual word for something that’s anything but casual. You both know it’s a lot more than her simply “biting” you and maybe, deep down, a part of you hopes it’ll be an unspoken promise that she won’t let you go again. That things have changed and this time, you’ll actually get it right.

“Sure, why not,” you respond, trying to act like your heart isn’t racing in your chest. “It’s better than you passing out on top of me.”

The sound of her laugh helps to soothe the majority of your remaining nervousness. “That was uncalled for.”

Your hands drift down to the base of her neck and you pull her down against you once more. She seems to understand your unspoken words because she presses a few feather-light kisses to your neck as one of her hands grips your waist. 

“I think you’ve gotten brattier since the last time I saw you,” she murmurs almost absent-mindedly. 

“I wonder why.” The only reason you’re able to stop yourself from rolling your eyes is the flash of pleasure that shoots down your spine from the sensation of her fangs grazing your neck.

You don’t have to be looking at her to know she’s wearing that smug grin again, the one that says she knows exactly how to wind you up like you’re her favorite toy. “Sounds like someone wants to be put in their place…”

Her words steal a whimper from you despite your attempts at staying somewhat stoic. It’s an act that hasn’t worked for you at all but you’re set on being just as stubborn as her until she admits to being an absolute idiot. It seems she’d rather make you fall apart under her than allow herself to admit that right now, though.

Thankfully, you have a fool-proof strategy to get on her nerves and get what you want from her.

“Stop stalling and just bite me, Katherine.”

Your heart nearly stops as you listen to the rumble that builds up in Kate’s throat. It’s barely a growl but it’s close enough to one to leave you stunned…and maybe more than a little aroused.

Or maybe more than just a little considering her response.

“Oh, I see,” she says, her voice dropping in both volume and pitch. “You’re not a brat at all. You’re just a needy little thing, aren’t you? You just can’t help yourself.”

You want nothing more than to deny her claim but of course, she can’t make it easy on you. Instead of letting you reply, she waits for you to open your mouth and then she strikes. 

The soft grazing of her fangs against the side of your neck turns into a hard bite in an instant, leaving you breathless and holding onto her for dear life. 

Even though you had been waiting for her to do it, the sharp, stinging sensation catches you completely off-guard. No amount of good memory could have helped you remember what it feels like to have a vampire feed from you.

It’s a particular kind of pain that brings a rush to your system. Especially to the growing heat between your legs.

The seconds stretch out into endless, blissful, minutes of you holding onto Kate while she drains you dry. Or as dry as she can without making you pass out. You’re not exactly sure how she knows when to stop, all you know is the room starts spinning and the strength in your arms starts disappearing when she pulls away from you. 

You stare up at her with half-closed eyes, barely suppressing the gasp that threatens to escape you at the sight of her. Her messy hair frames her face perfectly enough to make the dark stains of blood that coat her mouth evident under the moonlight. Maybe you should find the whole thing terrifying but you can’t. Not when she’s smiling brighter than all the stars in the sky outside.

It’s like you can visibly see the strength coming back to her. The dark circles under her eyes disappear in almost an instant and the color returns to her face, finally allowing her cheeks to take on a rosy hue. You want to call her out for obviously downplaying how badly she had been doing but you can’t seem to put your thoughts into words.

Kate, despite her insistence that she’s not a mind reader, reassures you before you can even freak out. “Give yourself a second, I um…might have drank a lot.”

At least that explains your sudden yet overwhelming exhaustion.

You hum in response, the sound turning into a chuckle once you catch sight of the apologetic smile on her face. You can’t stop yourself from finding it cute.

She lays back down but this time next to you, propping her head up with her elbow and keeping her free arm wrapped around your waist. Even though she’s technically still holding you close to her, you instantly miss the feeling of having her on top of you.

You’d rather not admit how many nights you’ve fallen asleep to the thought of you and her intertwined like this. 

“Hey, princess.” Her soft words make you turn your head to the side so you can look at her. “…can you say something so I know you’re okay?”

“I’m fine, Katie,” you mumble. Despite your attempt to reassure her, you’re a bit startled by how tired you sound…and how needy you still are.

Her hand mindlessly draws shapes on your stomach, her fingers “accidentally” slipping under the hem of your shirt. “Sorry about drinking so much, I guess I was hungrier than I thought.”

“I told you,” you reply with a playful glare. “It’s a miracle you didn’t pass out."

She rolls her eyes but her fingers don’t stop their careful exploring. “Right back at you. Not everyone can handle being drained like that.”

You know what she means and yet your mind drifts to other, much more pleasurable, contexts. Even though you’d only spent one night tangled up with her, feeling her muscles under your hands and hearing her whispers in your ear, you’ve spent almost every night since then fantasizing about her. 

No amount of frustration can take away your desire for her. That’s probably the only thing you’re certain of at this point.

Kate notices your wandering thoughts and allows her fingers to wander just as much. Her fingers trail up your stomach until they reach the edge of your bra. She pauses there, acting like she doesn’t know exactly what she’s doing.

The way she’s looking at you does little to soothe your growing need but you’re too captivated to even try to look away. You’ve needed this, needed her, for far longer than you’ve ever let yourself admit. 

“Everything okay, baby?” Her tone makes it more than clear that she’s toying with you. 

“Shut up.” Even though you do your best to sound annoyed by her teasing, your words end up coming out a tad too whiny to be effective.

She not so subtly moves her hand again until she’s practically groping your chest. “You’re such a brat.”

“And you’re not?” 

She grumbles in response, clearly unable to act like she’s not a massive, stubborn, brat. Your victory is short lived, though, since her touches become firmer and your body reacts immediately. 

You arch into her touch and earn a low chuckle from her. “And here I was thinking you were tired.”

“You’re such a fucking tease.”

“Watch your mouth, princess.” She pinches your nipple over the thin fabric of your bra, a grin spreading across her face as she hears your gasp.

You want to push her buttons just to see her reaction but it’s slowly becoming clear to you that you need more than just her teasing touches. The blood that still stains her lips only serves to drive you further into desperation. 

She catches you staring, the grin on her face turning into a smirk that borders on predatory. You half-expect her to kiss you and rub your curiosity about the taste of your own blood in your face but she takes a different approach. 

Her hand leaves your body, much to your dismay, and she keeps her eyes locked on yours as she brings her fingers to the blood-stained corner of her mouth. You really shouldn’t be finding it so arousing and yet here you are, walls clenching around nothing but pure air.

That damn smirk doesn’t fade off her face for a second as she brings her fingers toward your mouth. There’s an unspoken question in the air that she doesn’t get a chance to ask since your lips part instantly for her. You don’t even have to think about it, you simply do it and your eyes practically roll into the back of your head from the feeling.

“There you go, princess,” she whispers. “I think I like you better like this.”

All you can do is hum in response which only further fuels her sudden need for dominance over you. As much as you love arguing and pushing her, you can’t deny how good it feels to have her like this again. 

Completely in control but so oblivious to it. 

She silently admires you while you suck her fingers, moving her fingers back and forth the slightest bit just to watch the pleasure that blooms across your features. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what she’s thinking about and you can’t deny how badly you hope she’ll make her thoughts a reality.

Her fingers slide out far too quickly for your liking but she doesn't give you a chance to complain. “You’re sure you’re okay? We don’t have to keep going, you know?”

“I know,” you reply, ignoring the way your heart skips a beat. “But I’m kicking you out if you leave me like this.”

“That’s fair,” she says with a chuckle. “I think we’re still wearing too many clothes, though.”

“We finally agree on something.” 

Your hands reach out for her before you can stop them and she thankfully understands your intentions. She climbs back on top of you in an instant, straddling your lap and allowing you to lift her shirt over her head. 

It takes no time for you to get lost in the feeling of her muscles under your fingertips. Of the way her muscles tense up beneath your touch and her stomach clenches with every sharp intake of breath. It’s far more addicting than you ever would have thought.

Nothing could ever distract you from the main event, though and you practically vibrate with excitement as Kate reaches back to unclasp her bra. If she notices your barely suppressed desperation to feel her against you, she doesn’t point it out. Instead, she grabs your wrists and moves your hands onto her chest.

The visual of her throwing her head back while you eagerly play with her breasts is almost enough to send you tumbling into an orgasm but you barely manage to keep yourself at bay. You can’t stop yourself from wondering why you ever let the brunette push you away when things feel so right with her.

“Fuck,” Kate groans. “I missed this.”

“Just this?” you ask, lightly tugging on her hardened nipples just to watch her tremble.

“You know what I mean.” You relish the breathy tone that coats her voice.

Your response doesn’t come in words, mainly because you know talking back will only serve to distract both of you, and instead you drag your hands down her body again. Your fingers mess with the button on her jeans while you watch the way her chest rises up and down with each breath. 

“Come on, Katie, you’ve left me waiting long enough.”

She wastes no time jumping into action at your words. You merely lean back and watch while she shimmies out of her jeans and underwear, barely suppressing a teasing comment once you catch sight of the ruined garments.

“Was this what you wanted, baby?” She asks, her voice low and full that suggestive tint she loves so much.

"Shut up," you reply as your hands land on her strong thighs, rubbing random patterns onto her skin.

You expect her to complain about your "brattiness" but she's apparently far too worked up for that. Instead, she moves far faster than your eyes can even comprehend until she's hovering over your face.

Her sharp eyes stare down at you, her intentions more than clear as she waits for a reaction. You don't quite give her what she wants, though. Your reaction doesn't come in the form of words or even moans, it comes in you tilting your head back and gripping her thighs so hard that your nails leave little imprints on her skin.

The gasp she lets out is enough of a reward for you and you gently guide her down until your mouth finally meets her drenched cunt. You're not sure who moans louder when your tongue starts exploring her folds.

"Holy shit-"

There's a comment on the tip of your tongue that you don't get the chance to make since she grinds her hips down and effectively steals all your thoughts away. You keep one hand on her thigh while the other one moves to her mound, your fingers tracing a teasing path down her skin.

You allow your fingers to linger there, pulling in just the right way until her swollen clit gets revealed to your eager mouth. Your lips instantly wrap around it and the sound she makes borders so close to a whine that you can't help but feel incredibly proud of yourself.

She'd never admit it but you have her completely wrapped around your finger. Maybe that's why she loves arguing with you so much. It's a frankly juvenile habit that simply serves to hide the multitude of feelings she's spent so long running away from.

"I was wrong," she suddenly speaks up. "I like you much better like this. Such a good girl, letting me use your mouth like this."

Her words draw out a long moan from you. The vibration makes her hips shake in a borderline desperate way and you can't hold yourself back any longer. You need to make her fall apart for you. To see and feel the truth she tried to hide by pushing you away.

Your fingers wander once more and your eyes practically roll into the back of your head as you feel her walls greedily sucking them in. She's so wet that you're able to slip in two at the same time, feeling her clench around them every time you push in deeper.

"y/n!" One of her hands flies down to grip onto your head. She tries to push you further into her wetness but her movements are too sloppy to successfully move you.

It takes you less than a second to figure out what she wants, though, and you happily oblige.

Your tongue swirls around her clit as your fingers speed up, curling just enough every time you thrust them back inside her pussy. You're not sure what's more addicting, the sinful sounds she lets out with zero remorse, the fluttering of her walls around your fingers, or the constant bucking of her hips.

You're drowning in her and you've never been happier.

"Fuck, don't stop, princess. You're doing so good."

The soft praise is all the encouragement you need to double your efforts. It's almost impossible to tell who's more desperate for her orgasm but you seem to somehow meet in the middle.

You keep up your fast pace, your focus bouncing back and forth between the sound of her moans and the way your fingers easily slip in and out of her. All it takes is one particularly harsh suck for Kate to fall apart for you.

You're mesmerized as you watch, and feel, her orgasm rip through her body. You don't dare stop your motions even as her body trembles above you, her mouth falling open into a silent scream that leaves you breathless. The fluttering of her walls is addictive but you slip your fingers out of her entrance and quickly replace them with your tongue, eagerly drinking up every ounce of her pleasure.

You could easily spend hours lost in the essence of her and the addictive taste of her arousal. She quickly grows too sensitive and, even though you'd love nothing more than to keep going, gently tugs your hair until she's able to get you to detach yourself from her cunt.

You're sure you must look like a mess, your lips and chin wet and covered in her slick, but Kate doesn't care. She doesn't care about anything besides the fact that you're here. You're real. You're hers.

Despite her clear exhaustion, she manages to maneuver herself until she's lying on top of you, her face buried into the side of your neck.

"You're either hungry again or very sleepy," you say with a teasing grin the brunette doesn't see.

"The second one," she mutters.

You'd love nothing more than to complain and remind her you still haven't had a single orgasm but she looks far too adorable for you to do that. Plus, she's a creature of the night, you have no doubt she'll be waking you up in a few hours, telling you how badly she craves the taste of you.

Your arms wrap around her right as you feel her smirk against your skin. She places a few open-mouthed kisses there before speaking again. "Don't worry, I didn't forget about you."

You know her words are meant to be passionate, even arousing, but they strike a different chord within you. They end up being comforting.

Reassuring.

Both of you had messed up badly but here you were. Together despite everything.

Maybe, just maybe, you don't regret falling for Kate Bishop.

But you'd rather not tell her that.

[allsouls-emma]

Léon Marchand x female reader and the use of oc.

A Léon Marchand fanfiction.

Warnings: swearing, DNI if under 18, 18+, PnV, Voyager!!, no mention of protection, lack of research of swimming, hints of dubscon. Defo not proof read enough.

It was a warm July Wednesday in Paris, and the city was buzzing with excitement as the Olympics were in full swing. Noelle, a brown-haired blue-eyed journalist known for her blunt and outgoing personality, had flown in specifically for the event. Her mission: to report on the swimming competition and interview the athletes for an Irish magazine .

As she took her seat in the Aquatic Center, her eyes immediately locked onto the French swimmer Léon, a three-time gold medalist. His blonde curly hair shimmered with droplets of water, and his chiseled body moved with grace and power as he glided through the pool. Noelle’s heart skipped a beat; she knew she had to meet this man.

After a dazzling performance, Léon emerged from the water, his muscular physique on full display. He waved to the cheering crowd, his blue eyes sparkling with joy. Noelle felt a tingle between her legs as she imagined those eyes looking at her with desire. She forced herself to focus on the race, knowing she would soon get her chance to meet Léon face-to-face.

Finally, the race concluded, and Léon emerged victorious once more. As he stood on the podium, his medals glinting in the spotlight, Noelle felt her pulse quicken. She made her way to the mixed zone, where athletes and journalists interacted post-event. Her heart raced as she anticipated the moment she would come face-to-face with Léon.

And then he was there, standing before her, his skin still glistening with beads of sweat and his breath slightly ragged from the exertion of the race. Léon was even more breathtaking up close, his body a masterpiece of athletic perfection. Noelle introduced herself, her voice steady despite the butterflies in her stomach.

"Léon, it's an honor to meet you, I'm Noelle . Congratulations on your win today. I'd love to ask you a few questions if you have a moment."

Léon's bashful smile took her breath away. "Bonjour, Noelle. The pleasure is mine. I would be delighted to answer your questions." His French accent sent a shiver down her spine, and she felt a twitch between her legs.

As they began the interview, Noelle struggled to maintain her professional demeanor. Léon's charm and good looks were distracting, and she found herself imagining what it would be like to run her hands over his sculpted body. She cleared her throat, forcing her mind back to the task at hand.

"So, Léon, tell me, how does it feel to be here in Paris, competing in your home country?"

Léon's eyes lit up as he replied, "It's a dream come true, truly magical. The support from the French crowd is incredible, and it pushes me to swim even faster."

Noelle bit her lip, her mind wandering to the night ahead and the possibility of a different kind of race—one that involved exploring each other's bodies. She shook her head slightly, determined to stay focused.

"I can only imagine," she said, her tone suggestive. "The pressure must be intense. How do you unwind after a stressful race?"

Léon's eyes darkened, and a hint of a smile played on his lips. "I like to take long, hot baths and just relax. Sometimes, I go for a run along the Seine to clear my head."

Noelle pictured Léon's strong legs pumping as he ran, his swimmer's body sleek and powerful. She fought the urge to reach out and touch his arm, her nipples hardening at the thought.

The mixed zone was beginning to clear out as the last of the journalists finished their interviews. Noelle knew this could be her only chance to make a more personal connection with Léon.

"Perhaps you'd like to show me your favorite running route?" she suggested, her voice low and inviting. "I could do with some fresh air, and it would be a pleasure to see the city through the eyes of a local."

Léon's bashful smile returned, and Noelle felt a surge of triumph. "I would love to. It's a date, then. Shall we say tonight at 8? We can run along the river and perhaps grab a drink after if you'd like."

Noelle’s heart pounded as she realized she was about to embark on a private adventure with the man of her dreams. "I wouldn't miss it for the world," she replied, her tone leaving no doubt as to her eagerness.

As they exchanged contact details, their fingers brushed, sending an electric current through Noelle’s body. Léon's eyes flicked to her lips, and she knew he was imagining kissing her as much as she was. The interview concluded, and they parted ways, both eager for the night ahead.

Later that evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of pink and orange,Noelle made her way to the meeting point. Léon was already there, a vision in casual attire, his blonde curls shining in the golden hour light.

"You look beautiful," he said, his voice husky as he took in her form-fitting yoga pants and tank top.

Noelle felt a rush of desire as his intense gaze swept over her. "You don't look so bad yourself," she replied, a playful smile on her face.

They set off, running side by side along the Seine. Noelle matched her pace to Léon's, their arms occasionally brushing as they ran. The city lights twinkled in the darkness, providing a romantic backdrop to their energetic endeavor. As they ran, Léon pointed out landmarks and shared stories of his childhood in Paris. Noelle listened, enchanted, enjoying the private tour and the intimate insight into Léon's life.

As they reached a particularly picturesque spot, Léon slowed to a stop, and Noelle followed suit. They were alone on the riverbank, the city's hustle and bustle feeling miles away. Léon turned to face her, his eyes burning with desire.

"Noelle, I've been wanting to do this all night," he said, stepping closer and cupping her face in his hands.

Noelle’s heart hammered in her chest as she leaned into his touch, their lips meeting in a passionate kiss. Léon tasted of mint and desire, and Noelle felt herself melting into him. Their tongues danced, and Noelle ‘s hands roamed over his strong shoulders and back, savoring the feel of his powerful body.

Breaking the kiss, Léon nibbled along Noelle’s jawline, planting kisses down her neck. Noelle tilted her head back, moaning softly as he found a particularly sensitive spot. Léon's hands moved to the curve of her hips, pulling her against him so she could feel his hardening dick against her belly.

"I want you, Noelle ," he whispered, his voice hoarse with need. "Let's find a more comfortable place to continue this."

Noelle nodded, breathless, as Léon took her hand and led her through the darkness to a secluded spot he knew of—a quiet park bench hidden among the trees. He gently pushed her against the back of the bench, his lips crushing hers as he kicked off his shoes. Noelle felt his hands sliding under her top, caressing her soft skin, and moaned into his mouth as his thumbs grazed the underside of her full breasts.

With a swift motion, Léon lifted her top over her head, breaking away from the kiss to admire her naked breasts. He lowered his mouth to her nipples, taking one, then the other into his warm mouth, teasing them with his tongue until they peaked into hardness. She arched her back, encouraging him to take more, her hands threading through his curls.

As Léon continued his sensual assault on her breasts, his hand slipped between her thighs, finding the wet center of her desire. He rubbed her clit in slow circles, his fingers sliding easily through her slickness. Her gasps continue , her hips bucking as pleasure shot through her.

"You like that, chérie?" Léon murmured, his breath hot against her ear.

"Oui, Léon, don't stop," Noelle pleaded, her head falling back as she surrendered to the ecstasy washing over her.

Léon chuckled, the vibrations buzzing through Noelle sensitive nipple, which he was still sucking and nipping at. His fingers worked their magic, slipping inside her tight channel, thrusting slowly as he brought her closer to the edge. Noelle’s body trembled, and she cried out, her orgasm crashing over her in waves of bliss.

As her contractions slowed, Léon straightened, pressing his body against hers and capturing her mouth in a passionate kiss. Noelle could taste herself on his lips, and it sent another pulse of desire through her. She wanted him inside her, filling her completely.

"I need you, Léon," she whispered against his lips. "Please, fuck me."

Léon growled, the primal sound sending a shiver down Noelle’s spine. He lifted her, positioning her against the bench, her ass on the edge, her legs wrapped around his waist. With one smooth thrust, he slid inside her, filling her completely.

Noelle moaned, her head falling back as she enjoyed the sensation of being stretched and filled. Léon's hands gripped her hips, guiding her as he began to move, his strokes deep and purposeful. Their bodies moved in unison, the bench creaking in rhythm with their passion.

"You feel so good, Noelle ," Léon groaned, his eyes locked on hers, glittering with intense desire. "Your pussy was made for my cock."

Noelle’s walls clenched around him at his words, and she met his thrusts with her own, eager for more. "Fuck me harder, Léon," she demanded, her nails digging into his shoulders. "I want all of you."

Léon growled again, his pace quickening as he gave her what she craved. The bench rattled with the force of their passion, the slapping of their bodies filling the night air. Noelle cried out with each powerful thrust, her breasts bouncing, her head thrown back in abandon.

Léon's fingers dug into her hips as he pistoned into her, his balls slapping against her ass with each fierce thrust. Noelle felt her core tightening again, her second orgasm building as Léon's cock hit all the right spots.

"I'm close, Léon, so close," she panted, her legs tightening around him.

Léon grunted, his eyes rolling back as he teetered on the edge. With a few more powerful strokes, he sent Noelle over the brink. Her walls clamped down on him as she cried out, her body shaking with the force of her release. Léon followed, his breath catching as he spilled himself deep inside her, their juices mingling in a heated rush.

Spent, they rested, their chests heaving as they caught their breath. Léon gently extracted himself from her, his arms supporting her as they straightened. Noelle felt his cum leaking from her well-fucked pussy, a testament to their passionate encounter.

Léon pulled her into his arms, and she snuggled against him, her head on his chest. They remained like that for several moments, enjoying the afterglow of their intense coupling.

"I should probably get going," Noelle said reluctantly, knowing the night had to end eventually. "I have an early start tomorrow."

Léon nodded, his hands gently caressing her back. "I understand. But perhaps we could arrange another... meeting? There's so much more of Paris I'd love to show you."

Noelle smiled, kissing him softly. "I'd like that, Léon. Paris is even more magical than I imagined, and I think a large part of that is you."

They parted ways, their clandestine tryst a secret they would both treasure. As she made her way back to her hotel, she knew this trip to Paris would be unforgettable, and it wasn't just because of the Olympics. Léon had shown her a whole new side to the City of Love.

End.

[adorekento]

Addicted `

NSFW : In which xiao ended up on an inappropriate website and was astonished to see his best friend bare in front of his screen.

anon asked : do you perhaps write for camgirl/porn? If you do! Will you please write one, where xiao is desperate to feel y/n's tongue wrapped on his cock but unfortunately he can only watch her hump the pillow on screen :((

warnings : smut (mdni), camgirl/porn, dirty talk, cussing, degradation, fingering, riding pillow, wild thoughts, mild sexual content, strong language, etc.

notes : I don't know much about camgirl and riding pillow, this is just based on what I've seen in some fanfics, so if I wrote something wrong or IDK I am so sorry 😭😭

Xiao was not the type of person to spend his time watching nasty content on a website. Xiao did not have that kind of tolerance for such things. He was more than pleased to go out and do his job, or so he told himself when he found himself staring down at an open webpage on his phone, a little after midnight, as he saw a video of some guy who got drunk while dancing with his wife.

He scrolled through it quickly, trying to find anything remotely amusing, until suddenly, a h/c haired girl popped up, dressed in only her bra and panties, wearing a smile plastered across her face. Xiao’s mouth gaped slightly, as he watched her take off her bra and slip it over one shoulder. As she moved closer to the camera, her bare chest seemed to be glowing softly under the light. He could see her belly button clearly from this angle, almost like a miniature moon. It felt weirdly intimate to see her like this, but there wasn't any way around that,

"y/n...?!" His heart pounded faster, As far as his fantasy could reach him, he never visualized his own best friend as a cam girl! Not to mention being an actual slut, playing with herself on camera while she's talking to a crowd full of people, But here he was, watching, helplessly and shocked.

He saw the comments start to stream in. The girl had been a total hit with the crowd. Most people were screaming at her for having breasts and showing them off so shamelessly. Xiao wondered if she even knew how much attention she was getting, and what people thought about the situation. He hoped not.

fuck me, mommy!!

I love u and ur tight cunt

ohh baby SHE'S SO HOTTT

who doesn't even wanna fuck her

LET'S JUST KISS TILL WE'RE NAKed

the urge to squish your badonkers is hard

I'm getting hard already, wanna fucking rip you

He paused reading the comments when he heard her laugh, "you guys are making me blush!" she said, in a soft voice that carried over the microphone, “So which toy do you guys want me to use first?" She asked playfully, "or should I start with this?” With a flick of her hand, she reached for her wet pussy. There were moans all around him now.

how much do i pay to have u on my bed

not an astronaut but i can explore uranus

i have two hands and you have two tits 🤘

oops, my phone went into my left hand 😍

at this point, xiao started to pump his dick slowly in response to the sound of her moaning. despite him knowing you entirely, he couldn’t help the blossoming of jealousy in his chest. with a scoff, he created an account and entered your live chatroom,

Use toys? Why not use your fingers, slut.

Xiao cringed as he typed that, if you were with him you would probably laugh at him, but you weren’t here right now. And you wouldn’t find out who he is anyway, at least not tonight. "oh? if that's what my new viewer wants, I'll make sure they get just exactly what they want." You replied, grinning evilly in return. With a flourish,

you pulled down the elastic top of your underwear and spread yourself wide open, your pussy glistening, your clit gleaming, the audience practically screaming with lust as their eyes followed the movements of your body. Xiao was unable to tear his gaze away from your face. He noticed how your tongue licked your lips as you smiled at them,

you started moving slowly in a circle around your clit, licking your lips as you moved. Xiao watched mesmerized by you, his erection growing harder as you rubbed circles around yourself, making small whimpering sounds.  Your head tilted back, and you looked sexy as hell as you continued to move in a circle. Xiao couldn't tear his eyes away from you. You had no idea what your viewers wanted to watch, yet, you still managed to make yourself look desirable and even hot.

Xiao’s heart raced as he imagined the way your lips felt on his cock, how wet you would taste. how hot, how tight your ass would feel wrapped around his cock. perfect you would feel, stroking his length, how wet he would feel, thrusting deeper inside of you, how good it would be as you moaned into the kisses you stole from his lips… Xiao bit his lip as he watched you. you were so gorgeous that sometimes, Xiao hated himself for watching you like this, he felt like a pervert, he felt disgusted. you didn’t deserve to be shown so blatantly like this, to be seen in the most intimate way possible.

he typed in one more comment, 'ride your pillow, and think of it as my cock.'

You stopped moving in your circling your clit, letting out a breathless sigh, a hint of excitement lingering in your smile, before you resumed circling and moving, teasing the audience, giving everyone the opportunity to watch. You looked completely unapologetic.

Xiao shook his head as he watched you. He wanted nothing more than to pull you onto him and fuck you until you begged him to stop until you cried out his name.

"Huh? I'm not even cumming yet and you're already asking me to do that? What a tease…" You smirked suggestively, before grabbing the nearest pillow and starting to hump on it. Your expression turned into one of pure bliss as you moaned your pleasure into it. Xiao gulped as he stared at the screen, imagining you like that, moaning his name, his hands roaming your body as you pleasured him.

You hump on the pillow, panting loudly, your thighs squeezing around your throbbing, pulsating clit. You took a deep inhale as your body shook, your face contorted, and your eyes closed shut as the noises of satisfaction spilled out of your mouth. You gripped onto the pillow, your fingers tightening around its fabric as you ground against it in your need to release yourself from your frustration. Xiao’s mouth went dry, his breath becoming shallow as he watched you.

you kept grunting and groaning, and every once in a while, a loud moan would escape your lips, before another came. The sound you made was sinful, and it sent shivers down Xiao’s spine. He wanted to listen to your voice, He wanted to watch you ride him, watch the pleasure dance across your face, watch you scream his name in sheer ecstasy, watch you come all over him as you fucked the air out of his lungs, he wanted you.

"ah... I'm close..."  You whispered as you came undone, the last thing you could say before falling limp against the bed. Xiao's eyes flickered between you, and the screen in front of him. Your mouth hung agape and his pulse quickened, as he felt himself release at the same time as you, he was touching himself the whole time even stopping just so he could cum along with you. After all, who doesn’t want to feel your sweet juice dripping down their cock,

"Ah... that felt so good... looks like I'll have to wash my pillows later...” you mumbled as your breathing returned to normal. Xiao was speechless. He couldn't believe that you, of all people, would hump their pillow in such a vulgar manner,

'once I see y/n, I won't be able to look at her the same way anymore..'

© [ adorekento ] do not steal, repost, or translate my work.

[blackdragoness]

⛽GASING YOU UP, BABY⛽

YALL NOT READY FOR ALL DIS' GASSSSS. Lemme gasssss yo lil fat head up, okayyyy. This PICK-A-PILE is for you!

"somebody call 911, shawty fiyah burnin' on da dance floor." -sean kingston

Pile 1 -

Pile 2 -

Pile 3 -

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Pile 1: Show Stunnah 🌻

Overall Tarot Card: The Devil 😈

Channelled Song: Pretty Girl Rock by Keri Hilson

⛽ The gasssss on you is....⛽

🚨🚨ALARMS GOING OFF. YOU SHUTTING THIS SHIT DOWNNNN. LESSSGOOOO 🚨🚨

First of all, you muthafucka's is FINE as hell! I'm talking about FOIIINNEEEE as hell. Body on fleek, face card never declines. As soon as you walk into the room, all eyes are on you and all your competition starts to die a little inside 😂 You are the talk of the town, the talk of every circle, babbyyy 🤤 But y'all been knew dat, 😏

"BEEN that bitch, still that bitch" - Megan The Stallion

Natural beauty with the confidence to match

Confidence of a lion(ess)

Honestly, physically, you got it muthafuckin' going on dawg, what the fuckkkkk. Out of all the piles, this one wins in the Looks Department LOL sorry to the other piles

I'm seeing a face that is so fucking beautiful and angelic. Forever youthful.

Your beauty never dies and it never ages.

I have this huge urge to gasp in awe! You make people gasp with your beauty, ermagerrrdddd this is too cute! I feel like I'm melting in your presence 🫠. It's like everytime people see you in person, you take their breathe away and all they can do is gasp in awe at your undeniable beauty 😂😂😂 it's so fucking corny bro, but damn. That was a channelled message for someone's fine ass out there. You got it like that Mami/Papi, *snap snap snap*

A literal fucking goddess/god. Like you make men want to turn all romantic and old school, writing poems and singing outside your window in the middle of a full moon & shiiit. Or for my men, you make a girl wanna break all her rules and go buck wild for you!!! Like this shit crazzzyyy!! But this is what you be doing to these people lmaoooo!

I'm sure you're a great person on the inside and all, but there is so much emphasis on your physique that I apologize if you feel exploited right now 😂😂 and tbh, you might know the effects your body causes on people so you might be a person with strong boundaries. But damn Papi, what dat body do? 😏

With the devil card crowning your reading, people are OBSESSED WITH YOU!!! Bitch, who tf are you? Why is everyone so fucking obsessed with yo ass!? Lmao

"I can do bad all by myself." You're very independent but you may have many friends too.

Imma just say it flat out: YOU GOT THAT GOOD WAP BABYYYYYY. THAT GOOD WOOD, ya know what I'm sayin' 😂 rumor has it, you can fucking werkkkk it. You got people THIRSTY AF out here, mayneee. Chilllllllll.

You got this hella chill vibe to you though. Like laid-back. Relaxed. Not about the shits or the drama. People can try to ruffle your feathers to get any type of reaction out of you but you stay unbothered AF and that's what draws them nearer to you.

You have a gift for social interactions. Most people have social anxiety but you maneuver and work the room with ease and calmness. It's very admirable.

So many people want to marry you dude, I'm not even kidding. But I'm sensing that you are just focused on yourself and your goals. Relationship isn't a priority in your life right now. But that also is what turns the thirst factor UP when it comes to you.

SEXY, SEXY, SEXY, SEXY, SEXXXXX-Y.

Rich girl, city girl, material gworl vibes

"You always got dem eyes on you" - people love to watch you and stare at you. Sometimes people zone out in conversation with you because your beauty distracts them 😂 you could be talking to them in perfect pronunciation and speed but they won't hear a damn thing you said lol I guess your beauty is deafening too 😂

As beautiful and as sexy as you are, you also have a tender kindness when you interact with anybody. Your beauty shines both inside and out and that's why you are the mf GOAT.

You turn heads every where you go. You got bitches jealous wishing they was you. Ermahgerrrddd, I'm getting a rush of energy from tons of people who fantasize about what it would be like if they had your life. Honestly, that sounds like I'm over hyping y'all, but it's the truth lol. Maybe knowing this information will help you see the beauty of your own life and appreciate it for what it is. Because from folks looking on the outside into your life, they would literally trade spots with you in a heartbeat. Heck, they are already doing it in their daydreams. Recognize that YOU ARE THAT BITCH.

You may come from a great family life. Or people think you come from a super good looking family judging based off of your looks alone lol

A lot of people want to be tied to you in some way. People feel that being connected to you gives them "brownie points" in popularity 😂😂 some people may try to befriend you for clout. I'm not even getting social media vibes, although y'all may be big on social media too. But I'm sensing like real life clout, which is ten times better than social media clout, ya feel me. It's almost like knowing you in real life makes people feel more important in real life.

Y'all are the IT GIRL/ IT BOY. Everyone wanna be you, do the things you do, talk like you, walk like you, fucking everyfannnggg!!! I cannot with y'all. You guys are unreal but thats why we are so fucking obsessed with you, booo. Keep doing you and keep being you 🌻

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Pile 2 - Cutie Pie 🥧

Overall Tarot Card: Ace of Cups

Channelled Song: My Bestie by Lloyd ft Sevyn

⛽ The gasssss on you is.....⛽

🍯🍯CUTENESS OVERLOAD!!!!!!! YOU ARE THE CUTEST FUCKING THING EVER 🍯🍯

Everyone wants to hug you, squeeze you, love on you. Stick you in their pocket and take you home. This vibe is so mushy and gooey!

Everybody's little sister. You provoke a very protective spirit in those around you and those close to you. You are looked at as something that needs to be protected at all costs.

I dunno what it is about you but people will go to bat for you no matter the situation or the time. If ever you are in trouble, you have a whole gang of people who you can count on to drop what they are doing and prioritize you. Even if they are pissed off at you, they would lay their differences to the side and come to your rescue.

You make people feel very emotional when it comes to even just the thought of you. You are so special to people I don't think you realize that!

You are that person in people's lives that they cannot imagine ever losing. Like an angel in disguise who needs to be protected from this cruel world.

You attract friends like flies!!!!! This pile is SOOOOOOO popular and you don't even have to try. You could actually be a more introverted and reserved person but constantly have a crowd of people with you.

Sooooo warm and soft. Feels like I'm sinking in an ocean of really warm honey. That's how you make people feel.

People LOVE hugging you, cuddling you, and feeling you. Your presence is very calming and motherly.

You have great motherly instincts and people trust you with their children and animals. Kids might naturally flock to you and easily trust you because of your kind nature.

You may only consider a small group of people as friends but there are so many people who consider you as one of their best friends. You may make some friends jealous because they envisioned some type of exclusive friendship with you. However, a lot of people need you in their life and so that's something they need to come to terms with.

A lot of people feel like they can confide in you with confidential matters, knowing it will be kept safe. You also give really great advice that helps people progress further on their life path.

You are a very necessary presence in many peoples life stories. If every human soul had a book about their life, there would be at least one chapter about you in multiple life books. While most people are only focused on writing their own book, they are scarcely mentioned in other stories. But you, you are very necessary in the development of other people's life journeys. Like you make an impact on their story for the better. Wowwwww. I can only imagine that this role comes with a lot of positive karma for you and your generations to come.

You beautify every place you enter, every floor you walk on, and every person you meet. You are a contagious ray of light that shines everywhere you go even in the darkest of places.

You very rarely compete or get jealous of people and that's why many consider you to be their best friend. They feel completely free to be themselves around you with no judgement, guilt or shame.

You are unapologetically yourself and it's a big turn on for the opposite sex.

Many people wish they could possess your unapologetic nature but they are realizing it is a lot harder to mimic than they thought.

"I walk like this cuz I can back it up. I got a big ego" -Beyonce

You been through a lot and it shows through how sweet and caring you are. And because you put out that energy, people wanna love you the same way in return.

You really tug at people's heart strings when they think of you. I'm hearing "a heart of gold and titanium". So valuable and indestructible.

You have been placed on this throne by a lot of people. Very very respected and admired. I'm hearing you proved yourself. Your true colors shown and they worked in your favor.

An example for others to follow

A true royal

SELF-CONTROL, SELF-CONTROL, SELF-CONTROL. You have so much self control and people are both envious and admiring that trait of yours. "The one with the most control over themselves is the one with the most power in the room."

You might be a very adaptable person. You literally can chop it up with anybody you want! No personality is too hard for you to adapt to.

You have such a knack for resolving conflict. You can de-escalate any situation with your soft spoken voice and level-headedness. Things always run smoother when you are around.

People take you seriously and really listen when you speak. You may not vocalize your opinions as often as others, but when you finally do, it shocks people, so they listen.

A deep well of wisdom.

Honorable. Highly respected. Highly trusted.

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Pile 3 - LEGEND ⚜️

Overall Tarot Card: 8 of Pentacles

Channelled Song: One Call Away by Bina Butta

⛽ The gasssss on you is.....⛽

🥶🥶 YOU OUT HERE GIVING US THE SHIVERS WITH YO ICY FINE ASS 🥶🥶

BOSS BITCHHHHH. I see you focused on that bag and getting that bag!!! If you chose this pile, YOU LOOK LIKE MONEY, HUNNY 🤑

"came through drippin *drip drip*"

You are a hard ass worker. I'm getting strong energy coming from the workplace you work at. You got a lot of people dumbfounded at your work ethic. For some reason, I'm getting that they didn't think you were going to be the type of worker that you are.

You may be known as someone who bosses up every time you experience a hardship in life. It's actually pretty phenomenal to watch.

Phoenix rising from the ashes.

You are that one character in a movie story that never dies 😂 it's like no matter how many battles you fight, you never fucking die lol it's annoying to your haters but so inspiring to those who witness this inner strength of yours.

You are a LEGEND! Some people think that your life experiences are too good to be true. But they just ain't ever met nobody like you before thats why. I'm hearing that behind your back people try to investigate the validity of your story just to be humbled when they find witnesses who retell the same story.

People want to know the depths of your life experience. I'm getting that people view you kind of like Indiana Jones who is well travelled with many stories and adventures to tell for many days.

You inspire people to think outside of the box. To want more for themselves and be open to newer opportunities that can make them feel free and alive again. You make them want to explore life again.

You walk around like a large ball of life force energy. Anything within a 5 foot radius of you starts to be influenced by your vibration.

A lot of people speak about you!!! A lot of people have your name in their mouth. It's very positive though. I'm hearing a lot of praise, chanting your name. Celebrating you!

I sense you might be hermit mode or really just focusing on yourself. People can see the changes that are happening through your physical appearance . Your hardwork and focus shines through your countenance.

You have a lot more people who support and love you. Im feeling that for this pile, the support isn't as apparent as it was for Group 2. I'm feeling like this pile stands alone with lots of silent supporters. Something about you being very intimidating or being closed off to a connection is what's blocking people from showing their support but it's like they understand why you are closed off and respect your boundaries.

People feel like you are going very far in life and will hit it big in the future. They want to see you win and are silently watching until then.

The way you carry yourself is top notch alpha type vibes. Specifically for my feminines, this is so sexy about you. You carry this masculine energy in such a sexy feminine way it intimidates and submits even the strongest of men. Very BAWS BOSS like.

RAWRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR 🦁

BOSS, BOSS, BOSS, BAWSSSYYYYYY

"Dat ass, dat ass, dat ass, dat ass" 🤨🤨okaaayyyy, someone clearly has a nice juicy ass that needs to be pointed out 🤷🏾‍♀️

You must have a very strong presence in your work place because the energy keeps taking me to a work environment. Either that or you think about work all the time 😂 you really are such an independent woman. Some may call it hyper independent but do you honey. Set the standard as high as you want. Don't let their intimidated ass opinion shrink you 😉

Maybe you own a lot of businesses or aspire to own your own business. People see the potential for you. But I'm getting indecisive energy. You are probably really talented at SOOO many things and are weighing out your options. However, you know that once you have made your decision, there is no stopping you from reaching the top. Everyone else knows it too and that's why they are silently watching you.

You are a rare human. You have an imagination that is so active. Anything you imagine, you create in this world. You were probably a very imaginative kid and highly active. With how hard you work coupled with your crazy active imagination, you actually have the power to manifest whatever you want into existence. Maybe you are aware of that. Maybe you aren't. But channelling this energy feels very magnetic and strong. Keep your imaginations alive. Keep your dreams alive. Chase them.

People wonder how you gained such a bright imagination. They wish they could have that light that you have. You heal a lot of people's inner child by giving them experiences to exercise their imagination. Maybe you enjoy conversations about the trendy things from people's childhoods or you like to talk about the future a lot. You spark creativity and imagination for people and it gives them motivation for life again.

You lead by example. Lots of people are out here running they mouth but you stay steady on your grind proving your worth through your life.

You have silent supporters because you are a silent leader. You don't do much talking. You just do the damn thing and later on people find out what you did and are completely shocked.

You are a bombshell. Not only do you look great but you're like a ticking time bomb in people's minds. You constantly have people stewing over you and then boom, you do something that blows everybody's minds lol. I like this vibe. Very spontaneous and fun to be around

[mysteryshoptls]

Episode 5-21 Rhythmic Lyrics

SING AND DANCE WITH THE WHOLE TRIBE!

Piece of My World

Kalim/Jamil/Vil/Epel: You can hear it from beyond the door, can't you? It's waiting for you, let's go to Wonderland!

Vil: I always want to feel thrilled. Vil/Ace: So give me a sign. Jamil: There's no time for you to blink Jamil/Rook: The magic is starting now

Rook/Ace: AH AH

Jamil: Nobody ever wants to lose Deuce/Jamil: The moon urges us on Vil: Ring out your footsteps sharply now, come on Vil/Epel: Before the break of dawn arrives

Jamil: I'm trying to figure out Epel: Just who I am Jamil/Vil: Even though I'm capable of piercing my way through

All: Let's dance to this twisted rhythm That spirit you have even when defeated is still charming It really doesn't matter, Don't you think it's okay to be just a little bit bad?

All: All these thrills are pieces that make up who I am I'll show you an enchanting world within the darkness

Jamil/Vil/Epel/Rook: Take a peek on the other side of the door, It's waiting for you, let's go to Wonderland!

The verses below are not in the rhythmic, but the full song was finally revealed in the TWST Soundtrack. Although there is an NRC Tribe version of the song, I can't trust that I'm picking up the correct voices (other than Jamil, Vil, and Epel) to label them correctly. If we ever get a lyrics sheet saying who sang what, I may update this. The final chorus to the end were originally revealed during a broadcast of the Night Ravens singing Piece of My World.

The clock hands keep ticking on Now, make it go faster These impatient footsteps, this throbbing pulse, come on Before anyone else arrives

I was trying to capture Just who I am Even though I actually like my imperfections.

Let's sing to this twisted world This fluttering feeling inside my chest is very real That lame thing called common sense, Don't you think it's okay to just throw that all away?

All these thrills are pieces that make us all shine I'll find the key to everything within the darkness

♪♪♪

When the night finally leaves us, I'm sure we'll surpass what we are now (The twisted world will show us the way) As long as my personal fate doesn't impede my way

Drink up the overflowing magic, Even if the pain and frustration gets in the way. It really doesn't matter, I'll show the world that everything will be mine!

Let's dance to this twisted rhythm. That spirit you have even when defeated is still charming. It really doesn't matter, Don't you think it's okay to be just a little bit bad?

All these thrills are pieces that make up who I am I'll show you an enchanting world within the darkness.

Take a peek on the other side of the door, It connects inside of you, that Wonderland!

AH AH NA NA NA NA NA NA NA Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah Come along Wonderland!

Piece of My World (Translyrics)

Under the cut, the following English lyrics should match the Japanese lyrics fairly well. Some liberties have been taken to make the rhyme and rhythm work, but stays true to the core of the song. It may take a few listen and read throughs to sing it just as I've envisioned it. I've also spaced them out slightly separately from the original written lyrics in-game to help with figuring out the beat.

Can’t you hear it calling? Right beyond the door there For you it’s been waiting Let’s go to Wonderland!

I always wanted to be thrilled beyond belief So now, give me the cue And if you blink too fast I’ll have to give you grief All the magic will be starting soon

AH AH

There isn’t anyone who ever wants to lose Yet the moon will taunt us Let out sharp footsteps to help the tension diffuse, hurry Before the break of dawn arrives

It’s hard to figure out What all I can become But even so, I power through what may come

Keep on dancing here with me to this twisted beat Your strong spirit shines even when you’re faced with a defeat Don’t you ever mind, You’ll find, Being a bit bad can be so sweet

All these thrills are pieces that make up who I can be I’ll enchant you within the deep darkness unfurled Yes, in this wonderful world

It’s what you’ve been seeking Right beyond the door there For you it’s been waiting Let’s go to Wonderland!

The clock continues to keep ticking ever on So now, speed up the time With footsteps restless and rash, and heartbeats pounding fast, hurry Before anyone else arrives

I think I've figured out What all I can become But even so, to my faults I may succumb

Keep on singing here with me in this twisted place This strange feeling binds my chest warmly in a tight embrace No one needs common sense, so Throw it all away without a trace

All these thrills are pieces that make us shine so brightly I'll figure out where in the deep darkness it's found The answer that keeps us bound

♪♪♪

When at last the night leaves us, we'll have left our old selves behind (This twisted world will guide us along to the right path…) Just as long as my own destiny Doesn't end up misaligned

Swallow down all the magic that's overflowing Even if frustration and pain tries to clip both your wings I don't even mind, You'll find, One day I'll get to have everything

Keep on dancing here with me to this twisted beat Your strong spirit shines even when you’re faced with a defeat Don’t you ever mind, You’ll find, Being a bit bad can be so sweet

All these thrills are pieces that make up who I can be I’ll enchant you within the deep darkness unfurled Yes, in this wonderful world.

It’s what you’ve been seeking Right beyond the door there Feel your soul connecting Right to the Wonderland!

AH AH NA NA NA NA NA NA NA Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah Come along Wonderland!

[lovurg]

౨ৎ purely platonic — m. wheeler

𝐼. pairing/s: mike wheeler x gn!reader

𝐼𝐼. summary: after confessing your feelings to mike, he began avoiding you, leaving you in a state of confusion and heartache. you spent your days pondering over the past, trying to understand what had gone wrong and desperately attempting to forget about the whole situation.

𝐼𝐼𝐼. warnings: mike being an asshole, and miscommunication.

wouldn't you love to understand what he was truly feeling?

it has been weeks since you confessed and he was full on avoiding you and you were slowly getting tired of it. tired of all the “i need to think about it” yes you understood that of course, god how couldn’t you? you know the feeling but him ignoring you afterwards was just so plainly irritating and you wanted to curl up and die.

“he’s clearly avoiding you. he’s such an idiot, and, it’s not you, okay? he’s just a big pussy who can’t handle his feelings, he’s liked you since you were like what? five years old? lucas told me all about it and look. if he can’t figure out his feelings or if he cant talk to you about it then fuck him.” max said, holding you close as you teared up on her shoulder. it was complicated, and you kept telling yourself to stop crying over some stupid guy.

the same stupid guy you've liked ever since you found out your hair grew from your scalp not your ends.

now, you were stuck in a whirlwind of side glances and an inability to concentrate whenever he was around. he looked so happy, like he forgot everything that happened. and while he was having the time of his life, you were wallowing away in the corner of your room looking at meaningless platonic polaroid photos.

meaningless fucking polaroid pictures – they weren’t meaningless, no, not to you. the polaroid showed mike kissing your temple while you smiled brightly. both of you were covered in paint, you were painting dustin’s garage in this. a few weeks before you confessed.

was he leading me on? you thought, because friends don't typically kiss each other like that. not when one friend despises romance and the other is selectively kind, only to you. he held your hand, hugged you endlessly, and you almost fucking kissed on your birthday. none of that felt purely platonic.

you shouldn’t have ever confessed. everything would’ve gone like normal. and maybe you would never know what he felt about you but he did everything a boyfriend would do. and you just couldn't handle it. you thought you were strong, strong enough to resist the urge to confess, but here you were.

the next morning unfolded like any other. mike was hanging out with his friends, and max had chosen to spend the day with you, which made it pass relatively quickly. on your way home, you decided to stop by a spot that had been a special place for you and mike.

it used to be just the two of you, sharing moments and gazing at the view. the forest had always scared you, but with him, it felt safe. now, you were sitting there alone, lost in your thoughts.

suddenly, a twig snapped, and you turned your head to see mike. his eyes widened, and he offered an awkward smile.

"what are you doing here?" you asked, your disappointment and frustration evident in your voice. "here to reject me? go ahead, be my guest."

mike hesitated for a moment before speaking, "no, i actually, uh… i wanted to apologize. for everything, and yeah. i'm genuinely so sorry and…" you interrupted, "did max and dustin force you into this? you were never one for apologies. it's fine." you put on an awkward smile to ease the tension.

but mike called out your name, "let me finish. please. you hate being interrupted, so stop interrupting me."

you rolled your eyes but nodded, "okay, fine. go ahead. speak."

"i like you—no, i love you too," mike confessed, his words tumbling out with a mix of relief and vulnerability. "god, i was just being a damn coward about it because i didn't want to face you. how could you ever love someone like me? you're popular, you're amazing, you're so smart, and you use big words i can't even understand, and that's what i admire so much about you. jesus christ," he said your name, "i love you so much, you have absolutely no idea how much i just want to kiss you right now—"

before he could finish his sentence, you couldn't contain your feelings any longer. you rushed over to him, grabbed his face, and kissed him passionately. his arms wrapped around your waist, and your arms snaked up over his neck, pulling him even closer.

mike, slightly breathless but with a warm smile, managed to say, "that was… really nice, amazing. but my speech isn't done yet." both of you chuckled, and you urged him to continue, saying, "okay."

"when you said my bike was a little spruce, you were right," mike continued, his voice filled with sincerity. "you're always right. my tire had a hole, and when you helped me study for my biology test, i got a good score, even though ninety percent of it was just admiring you. but still, you get my point. you're too good for me. i don't deserve you."

you laughed softly and retorted, "fuck you, wheeler," while pecking his lips once more before wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug. "don't avoid me next time."

mike replied, "promise."

author's note: this is my first piece of fiction here, and it's quite short, but i hope you enjoyed it. please consider reblogging or liking it if you did! lots of love.

[matenrou-fan]

hello there! i was wondering if i could have some hcs of ichiro and sasara with a s/o thats touch starved but also afraid of physical contact because of trauma? you dont have to do this request at all if u feel uncomfortable so dont worry! you can also throw in some nsfw if you want, you don’t have to though, im just curious about the outcome. thank you for listening to my stupid little request dhdbcjdbdjd your works always make me smile and i hope that it brings you joy too ^^

Ichiro, Sasara with GN!s/o who's touch starved

ahh thank you..!! Glad to know my works brings some warmth in your heart! <3

GNreader, comfort, just wholesome stuff;;

-Well, along with his behavior of a gold retriever boyfriend, Ichiro is also quite touchy and clingy, always wanting to hold you closer in his pretty strong but such soft arms.

-So it hurts him to know that his actions, full of love, can be uncomfortable. Even understanding that it's not his fault, your boyfriend can't help and feels guilty about this, trying to control himself and warn you before every hug, kiss, or even hand holding.

-"Um.. S/o..? How are you feeling..?" - sometimes it's more embarrassing to ask for some touch than actually perform this little act of affection. - "Would you, y-you know.. mind if I kiss you..?"

-Every time he looks at you, Ichiro can't help but feel an urge to protect. Cause.. Just who decided to hurt such a precious girl? Now, when you're dating him, there's no way he would let such traumatic events repeat in your life.

-And of course he's willing to help you overcome this, especially due to your touch starved behavior. You're sure want to cuddle with him no less than he wants with you, and Ichiro's here to find a way to reduce your symptoms.

-Everybody in Ikebukuro knows Ichiro as a good worker, but sometimes all people ask is just for advice or support, so he knows how to cheer someone up. If he can't warm your body with his hands he would warm your heart with his words.

-Slowly, Ichiro would insert himself in your life through small action, and you wouldn't notice when suddenly would be the first to lean closer during movie night in his house or touch his hand when streets around you are so crowded.

-And of course he would notice this immediately but never showed it, to not scare this little progress you start to have. Only his smile that gets much wilder than usual betrays him and his fast-beating heart.

-Another clingy man.

-For some reason I can feel that he himself is also quite touch-starved, especially due to his hard childhood.

-Not having that much attention from his parents, Sasara can understand how you want to lean closer and push him away at the same time. It's probably one of rarest topics that he discusses only in a serious tone.

-"Hey, s/o, look at me, please.." - when he refers to you in such a soft tone, it's always so surprising yet pleasant.. Almost like a soft tickle. - "Yes, like this.. When you look at me with such a cute face, it feels like I'm already hugging you. Would it be enough for now?"

-Sasara's completely aware of how annoying he can be sometimes, but he wants you to feel only positive emotions from his actions. So it's time to learn how to control his clinginess and help you with this trauma concurrently.

-So.. maybe you can practice something like touch from a distance? When your boyfriend lends you his jacket that he just wore, you can almost consider it like a hug, as his warmth and scent are now around you.

-Master of jokes, he knows how to use his words not only to excite, but to soothe and calm down too. And if you want to talk about this, your boyfriend is already here, healing these wounds on your soul with his deep speeches.

-But it doesn't mean he would get totally serious. Because it's easier to heal with a smile on your face, and it also can refresh your mind after some long conversation about your problems.

-For Sasara, the ideal plan is to make you forget about this pain. Because when you laugh like that at his terrible jokes, you don't notice how you start leaning on his shoulder or touching his hand.

-Ahh, maybe when you get more calm about this theme, he can make a little teasing pun about this? But right now nothing comes to Sasara's mind as he's too happy to see how you slowly grow closer to him and his attention, ready to help with his urge to be touched as much as he wants to help with yours.

[ghoulangerlee]

Swiss/Aeon ; The Tickling Fic ; M

last Friday there was a video of Swiss getting tickled by the new bug and I sent that to Kel who responded with: "how long do you think it'll take someone to write that fic?"

Hi, I'm here to write the tickling fic I guess.

I use the name Aeon for the new bug haha. Also I don't normally write ghoul/ghoul so I had to resist the urge to add in the old man (my beloved).

rated: M-ish

contains: tickling (is it Aeon's kink? who knows), masturbation, rutting, spit (very briefly, but it's Swiss???)

-

He doesn't quite know why he did it in the first place, crowding up against Swiss as everyone gathered on stage for their final bows, his hands immediately reaching out and grabbing for Swiss' waist, digging his fingers into the muscle.

He feels Swiss jolt against him, hands going down to grab at his wrists, can hear him laugh and squirm—its all silly, a joke, nothing too serious.

That's what he tells himself when Swiss squeezes his wrists just a little too tight before letting go, batting his hands away as they fall into line to bow, and when they bow as one, he can smell the change in Swiss' scent. Full of post show endorphins, full of something, maybe arousal, wafting off of him.

He opens his mouth to inhale deeply and taste and forgets, at the last second that he keeps his mouth covered, because out of all of them, he's the worst at keeping his glamour up when he's not focusing on it intensely.

And then, they're filing off stage as the noise of the crowd reaches a crescendo, and Aeon's eyes are trained on Swiss' back, and the way the sweat makes his shirt stick between his shoulder blades, revealing the definition and shape so beautifully.

He's still new to the band, and will be new for a while now, but he's figured things out recently, with these ghouls, with Papa, how things work after shows, how it's not strange at all for two or three or more of them to break off and find a secluded corner to release some stress.

Which is why he's pretty sure no one really bats an eyelash when he quickens his pace and crowds against Swiss' back again, hands going to rest on his hips as he nudges him forward and away from the others, eyes glowing bright behind the lenses of his helmet as he seeks out one of the unused rooms.

Swiss is laughing, though not loud, but Aeon can feel the way Swiss seems to vibrate against him, his hands dropping down briefly to pet at where Aeon's hands are visible, dragging his fingertips along the backs of his hands before pulling away.

They'd been dancing around each other recently, the tension building up so much even Papa could sense it, a mildly embarrassing moment, to have his boss just give him a look while waving his hand between the two of them as if saying well? are you going to go for it?

And well, Aeon didn't explicitly need permission, but having it made him feel at least a little bit better about not messing up the natural chemistry or whatever.

There's an unused dressing room, the door cracked open just enough that Aeon can see that it's filled with stuff, probably being used as a storage room now, and the heat and want under his skin reaches its climax—he's shorter than Swiss, no doubt not as strong as Swiss either, but Swiss goes easily as he pushes him into the room, kicking the door shut behind them.

And Swiss stands there, relaxed, his head tilted to the side, still facing away from Aeon, as if he's waiting for Aeon to make the first move, waiting to see where this is going.

It drives Aeon a little mad, and he pulls his helmet off and shoves the balaclava down around his neck; his glamour is gone now, keeping his form hidden the last thing on his mind as he crowds against Swiss's back, immediately digging his fingers into Swiss's sides almost a little too harshly. A mimic of what he'd done on stage.

Swiss stumbles a bit, catching himself against a stack of cardboard boxes, his head tilting downwards as he laughs, arching his back against Aeon as the shorter ghoul continues to drag his fingertips along his sides, finding all the sensitive spots.

All the while, Swiss' scent spikes, heavy with arousal as his laughter trails off into a wheezing gasp, a plea of some kind.

Aeon exhales, mouth open as he breathes heavily into the center of Swiss' back, inhaling the scent of sweat and arousal until he's light headed with it, scrabbling to tug Swiss's shirt out of his pants so he can touch his skin properly.

Swiss's skin is sticky with sweat against his palms, but he shivers and lets out something close to a whimper when Aeon's nails, sharp and long, drag lightly against his sides.

"You are going to kill me," Swiss wheezes out, finally saying something, his voice loud among the silence, among their heavy breathing.

Aeon doesn't respond to him, just presses his nails a bit harder against Swiss' sides for a moment, before he digs the pads of his fingers into the muscle there, pulling more confused laughter out of Swiss' mouth.

Swiss swears softly, hunching over a bit as Aeon tries to press closer, sinking his teeth into Swiss's shoulder, through his shirt, the only place he can really reach like this.

And Swiss has to grab Aeon's wrist again, squeeze it tightly even as Aeon sort of growls around the mouthful of shirt and muscle he has in his mouth, as if Swiss is trying to pull him away from touching him.

(He's not.)

It continues like this for a bit, Aeon mostly focused on trying to make Swiss laugh, following lines of goosebumps as they pop up all across Swiss's sides and chest, his fingers insistent, digging in when Swiss gasps out as Swiss holds on tight to his wrist, keeping at least one hand resting on his belly, right at the waistband of his pants.

(Swiss doesn't quite understand where Aeon is going with this, but he's always up for trying something new, and with the way Aeon's pressing into him, hard against the swell of his ass, mouthing at his shoulder through his shirt, Swiss is all on board for whatever this ends up being.)

He hopes, somewhat, that Aeon's intending to get him off and not just tickle him, however arousing this is without any other stimuli. But Swiss is impatient on the worst days and slightly less impatient on the best, so with his free hand he does his best to tear open the lacings on his pants and get them open just enough to relieve some of the pressure there.

It's as if the promise of skin is enough for Aeon to be bolder in his touch, wiggling free of Swiss' grip on his wrist, his fingers inch below the waistband, into the open vee of his pants and Aeon exhales as his fingertips make contact with the wiry hair at the base of Swiss' dick.

"You're going to have to touch yourself," he manages to get out after a few moments, words heavy in his mouth as his tongue clumsily works through them, his fangs feel too big for his mouth like this, "Can't." He presses the tips of his claws into the hair, hearing Swiss exhale sharply, his scent growing heavier with arousal and Aeon growls a little, "Not now," he mumbles, a whine catching at the end.

Swiss laughs a little, files away Aeon's not quite denial for later when he has more time to think about Aeon's claws near his dick and the implications of that.

Instead, be pushes Aeon's hand away and mumbles under his breath as he shimmies his pants down just enough to free himself.

Aeon's hands are back on his sides, his fingers poking and prodding at muscle and fat alike, dragging his nails along the skin in a way that has Swiss shivering, leaning his weight back into Aeon's solid body.

The first few strokes of his own hand are dry and a bit unpleasant, so he pulls away, lifting his arm and reaching back behind him to nudge his knuckles against Aeon's horns.

He makes a confused sort of sound, drunk on the scent of Swiss' arousal, lifts his head and looks at Swiss' hand, "Hm?"

Swiss rolls his eyes, feels a bit fond for the guy, "Spit," he says, wiggling his fingers a bit, "Since you won't get me off because you can't keep your shit under control," he teases, "I'm not jerkin' myself dry."

Aeon huffs, leaning up to nip at Swiss' fingers momentarily before he spits into his palm, a little off center and wet.

"Satanas," Swiss mumbles, and then he's wrapping his hand around himself again, swearing under his breath as Aeon drags his claws down his sides, ruts against him from behind. "Oh, you wanna get off too, now?" He asks, just to be difficult, "Can't even touch me but you want something from me anyway, huh?"

Aeon growls lowly at that, sinks his teeth into Swiss' shoulder again as if he's trying to get the other ghoul to behave, his fingertips press almost cruelly into muscle and fat, drawing a choked sounding laugh from the taller ghoul as he jolts backwards into Aeon.

In his hazy mind, Swiss also files this away for later as well, wonders if he could push Aeon's buttons even more to get him to really put Swiss in his place.

(He's thinking, somewhat distantly, about Aeon's teeth in the back of his neck while he fucks him, claws digging into his sides as he holds him in place.)

Aeon tries to formulate words, a response, something, but all that's going through his mind is rutrutrut and the scent and taste of Swiss' arousal as it grows with each pass of his fingers on his most sensitive spots, tickling his ribs and making Swiss bend over, holding himself up against the boxes he'd stumbled into while he furiously jerks himself off with the hand not keeping him steady.

Aeon growls low in his throat when he feels about to burst, too far gone to worry about the consequences of coming in his pants, just sinks his teeth into Swiss again, digs his fingers in hard and faster, making Swiss breathless and gasp for air, lightheaded with the pleasure-pain.

And then, Swiss yells, no doubt alerting someone, anyone of where they are and what they're doing, shaking as he comes with Aeon's name on the tip of his tongue.

A low whine catches in Aeon's throat as Swiss suddenly grabs his hands and jerks them away from his sides, breaking the skin contact—his grip on his wrists is tight, almost too tight, but Aeon buries his face into Swiss' shirt and ruts against him until he's stifling his own noises as he comes, gasping wetly against Swiss' shoulder.

Aeon is almost distantly aware of Swiss pulling away, and for a brief moment, he wonders if he'd somehow forced this on Swiss, but those fears are soon squashed as Swiss gathers him into his arms, muttering something under his breath about overeager ghouls wearing themselves out.

In the time it'd taken for him to turn around, Swiss had pulled his helmet off and placed it down on the stack of boxes, and Aeon makes a pleased little noise when he's able to easily bury his face in Swiss' throat, breathing him in.

Sated. Warm. Pleased.

"You're a little demon," Swiss says softly, combing his fingers through Aeon's unruly hair, but he sounds fond, "I bet my shoulder looks like it's been mauled by a monster." He murmurs with a laugh. "You're a feisty little fella, aren't you?" He asks, though it's rhetorical, the little fella really makes something in Aeon's gut burn.

He whines, pawing at Swiss' sides now that the other ghoul had righted his shirt, "Shh," he mumbles, trying to get his tongue to cooperate properly.

Swiss laughs and shakes his head, lets Aeon rest against him for another minute longer before he pulls away, "Alright, well, as much as I'd love to stay here with you, we really need to find the others. The bus will probably leave soon. Don't want to be stranded."

Aeon does not whine at that even though he wants to, he steps back and pulls himself together as much as he can, pulls his balaclava back up over half of his face and finds his helmet, upside down, on the floor.

There is however, a stain on the front of his pants, and though he knows it's not really proper, he doesn't feel shame for it. Thinks about how this is really his first time making a move with anyone in the band, and how long he'd manage to keep himself under control, he's not going to feel bad about it. Not this.

"Hey, Bug," Swiss says, drawing him from his thoughts, his own helmet on now, coming to stand by Aeon, "My bunk tonight?" He asks, somewhat casual as he rests his hand on Aeon's side, his palm wide and warm through both of his shirts.

Aeon shivers, feels the way Swiss' grip tightens a bit, can see the sharpness of his teeth when he grins, "Yeah, yeah," he says, a little bit too eager.

[bansept]

See Me As I Am

[Part 5]

Well, well, WELL

It's been more than a year since the last update, and I'm deeply sorry for this! We all know at this point I'm not the best at updating stories hahahaha

But, here you go! A chapter from a long lost story AND it's a NSFW warning! Although a small one, but still good eh?

Oh, btw, did you know there were specific models of androids in Detroit Become Human? No? Well, here's the proof.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Past choice: Go to the bedroom

Processing

Entering next phase

Her breath was short, mouth busy pouring kisses on his while he carried her all the way to her room, his strong arms sheltering her pliant body against his hard one. Ichigo felt her nails scrape the back of his neck, clenching the short hair with a tender grip, urging him to get them upstairs faster. He complied, rushing to the point he almost tripped in his run. Orihime stopped kissing him to giggle, the android grumbling an apology, straightening his back. His circuits felt loose, his skin overheating, his fake heart beating the same old rhythm, yet he never felt so good.

Ichigo carefully placed her down on her bed, a hand reaching for the light to turn it on, but was stopped by the young woman, her eyes shining with a mix of mischief and affection.

“Don’t turn it on.” Her voice was squeaky, much certainly due to the kissing session she had just gotten out of, her breath catching in her throat.

“Alright.” Ichigo smiled, returning his hands to her body, gently massaging her feet, calves, and knees.

Orihime’s body twitched in anticipation, her hips instinctively raising a few degrees up while she buried her face in her arm, laughing in the material of her sweater. The sound, Ichigo discovered, amplified his smile to the point of almost feeling pain. The android drove his hands further up, brushing her hips.

“Orihime..?”

“What’s wrong?” She answered, understanding the shift of tone as one of warning.

“I, well…” Ichigo lowered his mouth to kiss the tiny patch of belly skin showing from a gap in her clothing. “I am not equipped for sexual intercourse.”

Orihime stared at him questioningly for a moment, not understanding. Her brows were furrowed but her blush was still painting her cheeks red. Ichigo kept pecking her stomach, waiting for a reaction to blossom. After 32 seconds of silence, Orihime blushed a deep crimson, her mouth opening to stutter.

“O-oh, I, I didn’t know that…”

Her embarrassment was endearing, and Ichigo laid himself next to her on the freshly made bed, chuckling as her eyes looked around the room, everywhere, except him. Gently, he picked up her hand, placing it on his chest so she could feel his steady heartbeat.

“Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of you.” He whispered, tone more serious as his other hand caressed her sides, and thighs and slowly traveled to the zipper of her sweater. The fabric was thick enough for her not to feel the way his synthetic skin felt but every digit moving closer made her tremble in excitement.

“What… What about you?”

Slowly, carefully, lovingly, the fabric was opened, revealing her long-sleeved pajama top that was riding up her flat stomach, as well as her pajama bottom. Ichigo looked back at her, grinning.

“I’m going to make sure you’re satisfied. That will be my reward.” His voice was lower than usual, heavy with desire for her, but also desire to pleasure her. Orihime blushed even deeper, her face taking the color of a beetroot, yet she nodded, giving him her full consent. The hand still on his chest slid up to his face, caressing his cheek as the other was helping him lower her bottoms.

The information downloaded on the internet to please her was very helpful : where to go, how fast to turn his tongue, how deeply for her to feel filled in the best pleasant way, how to make her lose her grip on reality with a good technique. Her expressions, the way her eyes would shut and her mouth open, her hands gripping his hair with force, her legs wrapping around his shoulders as she moaned out his name.

-

Ichigo decided to let Orihime rest and sleep in when the morning came. With no outside obligations, such as work or heading back to town, and taking into account how exhausted she was rendered after their time together, it was only beneficial for her to stay in bed.

He did as he always did in the morning : cleaning out the kitchen and the bathroom, making sure the laundry was either washing or drying, ironing a few clothes, arranging the living room, tending to the fire, and of course, preparing the meals.

Dixie was sitting by Ichigo as he stirred the noodles the android had been cooking, her little eyes scanning with almost impeccable accuracy the spots where Ichigo had willingly dropped a few chicken slices. He chuckled, hearing the dog whimper in protest, as if begging him to give him all of the food.

A few knocks resonated against the wood of the entrance door. Dixie immediately barked, turning away from her spot by the stove to trot to the door, Ichigo following her after turning the fire off.

Mindful to not let Dixie out, he opened the door to meet a pair of bloodshot brown eyes staring at him in surprise, a young man with black hair tied up in a bun, not successfully hiding a bouquet of flowers behind his back, a 3 days-old beard covering his face in an unattractive and dirty way.

“You..? Who are you? Where’s Orihime?”

Ichigo looked at him, the courteous smile he had plastered on his face wavering slightly. The real question was who this man was, who clearly thought arriving uninvited on a Sunday morning with flowers would get him a passing grade. Especially to surprise a single woman who lived alone. Ichigo quickly blinked.

“I am sorry, Miss Inoue is not available right now. Might I know your identity?” He asked back, voice a happy neutral.

The man stared at him dumbly, his eyes widening as his pupils expanded unnaturally. Ichigo processed the change at lightning speed while the man seemed momentarily lost.

“I, uh, thought she was living alone? I mean, except for this pest of a dog she has.” He sputtered, sweaty hand rubbing his forearm, the sound of the flowers rubbing against the plastic interfering with the semblance of calm Ichigo was hoping to sell.

“As you can see, she does not. Might I know your identity?”

The man coughed openly, not even turning away from Ichigo, and held out the flowers threateningly.

“Jim Samuels. And you better remember that, ya trash can! Get it? Now where is she? I wanna talk to her.”

Dixie started to growl menacingly, for a dog of her size, Ichigo still kept her inside the house, fighting the urge to glare at the man with disgust. By an unlucky strike of fate, if it ever existed, Orihime’s calm life was incessantly interrupted by men trampling her tranquility, threatening her already fragile health with their stalking. Ichigo kept his hand on the door, not even staring at the bouquet Jim was holding out.

“For the last time, Mr. Samuels, Miss Inoue is not available right now. I am sorry, but you will have to wait for her to contact you, if she wants to accept your flowers.” The man coughed again, thicker this time, his eyebrows furrowing darkly. “My apologies, I must return to my work. Have a nice day, sir.”

The plastic smile was easy to stretch on his lips, his face morphing into the sympathetic mask his program automatically played after such a response. Jim stared at the closing door, looking almost pitiful. He turned around, mumbling curses, hurriedly closing his jacket to protect himself from the rain the weather reports had announced 4 hours and 18 minutes ago. From his pocket stumbled a transparent small zipper plastic bag, the size to fit in a palm, a red solid substance inside of it attracting the android’s gaze. Jim didn’t notice his loss, immediately running under the rain. Ichigo didn’t call him back.

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

Choices : 

1- Pick up the sachet

OR

2- Leave it there

[saturnite0614]

I did another fun cod one shot full of angst and things that will make people hate me :) It's based on a twitter post

important tags/TW: major character death and graphic depictions of violence

Soap bites his lip, staring at Ghost over his lunch.

"So this Friday works for you?"

Ghost pushes around the various pieces of fruit on his tray, "You'll know if something comes up."

"So it's a date then." Soap leans forward into Ghost's personal space, the first purposeful breach between them.

"I guess it is."

"Does that mean I get to see your face?"

"You've seen it." Just once and only for a few small seconds. Even now seeing half of it isn't enough. The black fabric is pulled over his nose, allowing him to eat.

"Can't make an exception for a date?"

Ghost chews a soggy slice of peach before leaning in to meet Soap. Their noses brush together, making his heart leap directly into his brain and slamming into his eyes like a cartoon character. Might as well say "awooga" as he drinks in Ghost's brown eyes.

"Not a first one."

"Does that mean there will be more?" Soap perks up.

Ghost’s eyes flick across his face, tracing various parts of him. When previous partners did it, he shirked away, feeling his self-esteem plummet. "Depends how well you treat me. After all, you asked me."

"Is my character in question?"

"Maybe. You're coming off awfully insecure, Johnny."

"Naw, I'm a brave lad. Had the courage to sit here and ask."

Soap slammed his tray down. "Go on a date with me."

Ghost looked up, "What?"

"Romantic. Date. You. Me."

"We'll save the rest of the questions for Friday." He pulls his mask down, "I've got reports to file, as I'm sure you do."

He did, but it's not like he'd be able to focus knowing that in 32 hours, he'd be going on a date with The Ghost. Who said "yes" with very little argument or convincing. He's obviously off his nut asking his superior on a date while on duty and while on base, but he couldn't help it, not when the man was practically haunting his peripheral vision. It nagged at him – the jokes and flirting shared between them and especially the time Ghost spent bent over him, treating the bullet wound in his arm. Part of this fuzzy feeling buzzing in his teeth and nose might be from hero worship, but part of him urged him to shoot his shot. Soap's intuitive. He has to be in his line of work and his gut told him to throw himself in the sea to show Ghost that out of all the fish out there, Soap was one of them. This urge was so strong, it hadn't even occurred to him until after the words left his mouth that Ghost might not like men or masc people in general, both of which applied to Soap.

Ghost stands with his tray in hand, perfectly balancing the remaining food on it with cat-like grace. Soap bolts to follow him, leaving his own untouched tray behind. He steps in front of the lieutenant, putting them nose to nose again.

"Can I kiss you?" His teeth clack together in jittery excitement.

The painted skin around Ghost's eyes crinkle in a smile, Soap had come to learn. "Excited aren't we?"

"Damn right I am. Aye."

"It's almost cute," Ghost looks him up and down again, "But I'll have to decline. Have to save something for our date."

Our date. Soap would never get over that phrase, especially with Ghost's rough accent.

"I'd call you a tease but I should have expected that."

Ghost may deny the kiss, but he does pat Soap's arm, touching the space closer to his neck than his bicep. Soap shivers, a response that Ghost notes with a twitch of a light mussed eyebrow.

Oh, Soap was down bad.

—

Soap made an effort to dress…nice? They weren't leaving base, just heading out to the training range to fire some rifles and share some beers. A soldier's version of breakfast and coffee. But Soap had dug around for a button-up that had somehow made it into his duffle the last time he went on leave. It’s wrinkled as shit, making his large form more boxy than tapered. At the last minute, he pulls it out of his waistband where he’d tucked it into his jeans.

He’s standing outside the barracks waiting for Ghost. They’d walk to the shooting range together, like kids going to a dance. Would they hold hands? He asks himself in a mocking voice. Fucking stupid.

The barrack door opens and Ghost stands there wearing his signature look – mask, heavy jacket, thick black cargo pants. He hadn’t made a visible effort. Ghost’s eyes widen as he takes in the button-up and clean jeans. Soap had even scraped the mud off his boots. He swallows.

“You look…good?” Ghost shoves his hands in his pockets.

“Thanks.” They both look at their shoes, shuffling in their respective places.

“Want to get going?” He gestures with his elbow towards the shooting range.

“Gladly.” Soap holds up a six-pack, “Want one?”

Ghost slips two glass bottles from the cardboard container. Almost impossibly, he grasps both caps with one hand and pops them both off with a carbonated hiss. Then he gifts one to Soap. They clink them together as the brown liquid inside bubbles to the top.

They walk in silence, only sipping at their respective drinks. Ghost doesn’t lift his mask above his nose this time, instead holding it away from his mouth as he nurses the beer.

There’s no one around them. Everyone else is preparing to turn in for the night – eating last minute meals, taking cold showers, losing money and clothes in poorly thought out card games. The latter is probably what Gaz and Price would be doing, although they’d be winning and they wouldn’t let Soap forget that he missed it.

If the rest of the night continued on like this, he just might agree with them.

They’re about halfway done with their first drinks once they get to the range. The lights are on, glowing yellow against the cool summer night. They light little warm pools along their paths. A rain had come through a few days ago, and still the dirt beneath their feet rests sodden, holding on their journey and the paths taken by others. The grass around the edges is bright green, hanging heavy with dew. He’s regretting the white shirt right about now.

“So,” Ghost pulls his mask back down, “A competition or just friendly shooting?”

“We can do both.” Soap looks around and spots some far off targets. A sniper’s range.

“You’re a sniper expert, right?” Soap takes a deep drink of his beer.

Ghost hums, “Last time I checked both of us where.”

“Damn straight. Come on.” They drop their drinks by the range then head inside the nearby building. Soap grins sheepishly at the soldier still on duty, stuck on the night shift. They check out some rifles and ammo.

Soap takes his time loading his own weapon, watching Ghost do the same with deft hands, working quickly. Soap could probably match his speed if he weren’t so distracted. They’re sitting on the damp grass with their weapons in their laps. Ghost checks his scope, holding the gun with one hand and sipping at his drink with the other. Allowing himself to stare at Ghost’s hands. They’re strong for sure, but a bit knobby. His knuckles are large, probably coming from years of abuse. The scarred skin ripples like a wave with every shift of his muscles. The scars seem to grow and shrink. Soap’s own hands are incredibly scarred but some of the ones on Ghost’s hands look bigger and deeper. They weren’t the results of mere accidents or slip ups.

He wants to know.

Ghost flips onto his stomach and aims his sights down range.

“Wait,” Soap touches his shoulder, “We haven’t decided what we’re shooting for.”

He pulls the level back, “One clip. Most amount of headshots is winner.”

“What do they win?” Soap joins him, pressing their shoulders together. If they hadn’t already agreed that this was an actual date, he wouldn’t allow this for himself. He would have put more distance between themselves. Ghost stiffens, only perceptible because they’re touching. He relaxes a moment later. It’s so quick that Soap questions whether it’d actually happened.

“Guess I’ll decide when it happens.” He squeezes the trigger, exhaling in a foggy puff of breath. The target down range wobbles. “1-0.”

“Bastart.” Soap takes his shot.

—

Ghost wins, but he cheated. He’d watched Soap with those doe brown eyes of his every shot he took. They were still lethal, but not headshots. They sit criss-crossed, both on their third beers, looking up at the sky with their weapons abandoned between them.

Soap holds his bottle with two hands, mouthing the rim. “Did you have fun?”

Ghost looks at him eyes first, then tilts his head down. “I did.”

“I feel like we haven’t done much.”

He looks down at his drink, swirling it around. “Do you have to?”

Soap shrugs, “You just do stuff on dates.”

“Guess I’m not great company.” He mumbles, bringing his knees up to rest his arms on.

“What do you mean?” Soap drops his hands to his lap.

“What do you even like about me?” Ghost squints, as if it were sunny and bright out and not the middle of the night. His voice is low.

“Lots of things?” He can’t help the uplit to his voice, confused more as to why he’s asking the question versus confused at how to answer it.

Ghost sips his beer, still hiding behind his mask. Seemed he only lifted it to eat.

Soap crawls his way over, staining his jeans green. He presses their arms together again, “You’re smart in a book smart way, like you’re always three steps ahead. You’re strong as hell. Not sure if you noticed how red my face gets when we spar.”

Ghost looks at his feet again. Even with his face completely covered, Soap knows he’s blushing. His shoulders hunch and the skin on the back of his hand turns red. Soap gently reaches over, placing his hand on top of Ghost’s. He doesn’t do as far to actually hold it.

“Against my better judgement, I think you’re funny. Not your jokes, but the way you can’t keep yourself from laughing at them. It’s cute.” Soap swallows, “I like how you keep me curious. I want to know more about you.”

“That’s why you asked me out?”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t know if I can give you that.”

“It doesn’t have to be the deep stuff. It could just be small things like hobbies or what you do on leave. Those are a part of you too. And there’s time. Like those other dates you alluded to.”

Ghost holds his bottle up, examining the contents again, as if they’d changed in the few minutes since he opened it. It’s his substitute for eye contact. “I want to know more about you too.”

Soap can't help the smile, lifting a hand to scratch the back of his now burning neck.

—

"This is me," Soap stops in front of his room. Ghost knows damn well where they are, he's just always wanted to say it, and finally saying it has his joints locking in place with a fuzzy excitement.

Ghost rolls his eyes, hiding his red hands in his pockets again. "Glad I was able to see you safely home."

"A good way to end the night."

Ghost raises an eyebrow, "Only good?"

"Aye," Soap fiddles with his keys, just to give him something to do while he figures out his best approach. "I recall a question I asked you a few days ago. That might clue you in to the missing piece."

Ghost leans against the door frame, "Really? You've been watching too many movies."

"Oh piss off." Soap scoffs, shoving his room key in the lock.

"Giving up that easily?"

Of course he had to taunt him. Soap looks up at him before turning the key, "If you're just going to make fun of me, then yeah."

Ghost looks off to the side. "Thought I was being cheeky."

"Right cheeky."

"Hey," Ghost taps his chin with a strong finger, bringing Soap's gaze back to him, "Night's not over till we agree it is. So say what you want to."

Soap looks him up and down, focusing on the hand still touching his chin. He swallows.

"Can I kiss you?" Soap's voice scratches through his throat, hoarse and…nervous.

Ghost smiles underneath his mask. "Surprised you held off this long."

He leans in and first, only their noses touch and they breathe each other in – fresh gunpowder, hot metal, and stake beer. Soap's eyes are locked on Ghost's but his date's eyes flick all around his face, like they always did.

"You're goin' to leave the mask on?" Soap whispers.

Ghost's eyes snap to his, "Which would you prefer?"

Soap can't work his mouth. Can't work any part of him, really. The words form in his mind but fail to find purchase anywhere significant.

Instead his abandons his keys and bring both of his hands to cup Ghost's jaw, gently pressing his thumbs to the softness underneath. His face is soft.

Then he rolls the fabric, only enough to reveal his lips – pink, chapped, and uneven. His top lip is thicker than his bottom, as if he were sucking it in. His chin and jawline are simultaneously round and sharp, at least the parts he could see were. Before he can observe further, Ghost presses in. Or maybe Soap does first. Either way, their lips connect. They slot together nicely, giving way the pressure of the other. Ghost tilts his head, fitting them together in a completely new way. The movement brings the scent of fresh woodsy laundry, almost floral in nature. Ghost had cleaned his mask beforehand, wrenching away the musk of sweat and work.

Soap smiles into the kiss, moving his hand to cup the back of Ghost's head. Ghost's hand moves to rest on his shoulder as he tilts again, pressing their noses together ever so slightly.

He slow blinks when they finally break apart. Ghost flashes him a small smile before fixing his mask.

"You should get some rest, Johnny," Ghost’s voice is pitched slightly higher and he dips his face towards his torso, "We've got early morning drills."

"Yeah." Soap's breathless, negotiating with his lungs to ration what little is left in them. "But, we should also do this again."

"Next Friday work for you? Maybe I'll take you off base." Ghost still isn't looking at him, instead his hands are in his pockets again.

"Yeah. Friday works."

"I'll see you then sergeant." Ghost backs away with a small salute. And Soap watches until he reaches the corner and turns, heading for his own bunk.

"See ya then, Simon.”

—

Soap whistles to himself as he takes out another guard with his trusty rifle. Seemed he rarely got the opportunity to exercise his sniping ability. His skills were on par with Ghost’s but he never got to prove that. It’s why the cocky bastard had won. Another one of Makarov’s guards drops, this time without Soap’s help.

“We still shooting for points?” Ghost asks over comms.

Soap ejects his shell casing, “Only if I’m winning.”

Ghost chuckles.

“Keep it professional you two. Fuck’s sake.” Price chastises just as Gaz says, “Loser buys drinks.”

The eye roll is audible.

It’s all a bit fucked-up. These are human beings they’re ending with just the slightest twitch of their fingers. There is no “but” to excuse it besides making themselves feel better. They all already have enough trouble sleeping at night.

Soap scans around, looking for their two men on the ground. He spots Price and Gaz entering the compound, coast clear for now.

“Shit.” Ghost curses, “Bravo 0-6. I have to go dark. I’ve got tangos in the building.”

Price’s voice crackles to life before Soap can respond, “Rog. Stay safe.”

“Should only take a few seconds.”

“Stay frosty.” Soap whispers into his mic, but there’s already the fuzz of a disconnected comm. His stomach churns and suddenly, the comfortable spot he’d found for overwatch was no longer comfortable. Hard clumps of dirt prod his rigid muscles and rocks scrape at his skin with every small bit of movement. He swings his rifle around, watching Price and Gaz’s approach and seeking out the glint of Ghost’s rifle. He only finds the former.

—

Ghost stays dark the entire rest of the mission. It’s not unusual…per se. He’s used to working alone which means the man has some terrible communication habits. Either he talks too much or too little, not that he’d recognize that without someone telling him.

But Soap’s stomach hadn’t settled. Even though everything went smoothly. Price and Gaz are in and out without anyone being none the wiser. They’d gone through the paths Soap and Ghost had cleared and hid bodies so no one truly noticed anything. That’s the problem with hired mercs, you can’t always trust them to keep their post.

“Bravo 0-6 and 2-6 are at exfil. Bravo 0-7 and 7-1, you are free to leave your posts.” Price is yelling through his comms, fighting the roar of a car engine.

Soap’s response is quieter, “Copy that.”

Both men wait for another response that doesn’t come.

“Bravo 0-7?” Soap asks. This is the part where Ghost is supposed to come in with a cheeky pun.

“Ghost?” Still nothing. “Soap, get to his last known location and get his ass back here. Stubborn bastard.” Price’s voice cracks, “Bravo 0-6 out.”

Soap scrambles to his feet, throwing his rifle over his shoulder and stumbling down the hill. He’s making a shit ton of noise. He really should be taking his time and exercising stealth instead of rampaging like a Spanish Bull. He trips at the bottom, ramming face first into the chain link fence encasing the compound. It wobbles and the sound echoes outwards. With any luck, any remaining soldiers would think an animal was dumb enough to miss the obstruction, like a bird or rodent.

There’s razor wire encircling the top but that doesn’t stop Soap from digging his boots into the fence openings and scaling the damn thing. He slices his arm immediately upon reaching the top, dripping blood onto the dry ground below. His jeans get the same treatment as he throws himself over the fence. Every part of him burns, like he’d been trapped in a tunnel of whirling paper, slicing into his skin from every angle.

He drops down, popping his ankle and stumbling to a standing position.

Ghost’s last known position is locked in his mind. They’d sent him ahead of time to be their inside man. He’d given them entry locations and guard patterns. Soap beelines towards his Ghost. The map he’d studied beforehand comes alive before him and he ducks in and out of buildings, with little regard to his own safety. He turns corners and finally comes across a warehouse, one of the many unused ones in the compound. It was because of this it was supposed to be a good place. Ghost had reported that half the rooms had broken doors and stairs were rusted and falling apart. It simply wasn’t safe for everyday use. Maybe he’d simply fallen and was just waiting for someone to come get him. He’d be fine.

He would be. Fine.

Soap slips in through a broken window, the only act he’d taken to be quiet during this entire endeavour. Going through the wide open loading dock would have been too obvious, even for him. He scans around the ground, looking for any sign that Ghost had fallen. Maybe a broken railing or a left behind piece of equipment. But there’s nothing besides pieces of trash, tumbling gently in the breeze and getting caught in corners.

Soap pulls his pistol out and gently navigates the stairs. There are holes in the rusted metal, making it warp and dip in places where feet had made their mark.

The top is just as bad. The catwalk is pot marked. It's a good thing there's a door to his right, because there is no way he'd make it to the left side without crashing to the concrete floor. If he couldn't, neither could Ghost. How he stayed that big with their diet, he'd never know.

But he would ask and ask, until they were old and feeble because Ghost is fine.

He nudges the door, expecting to find it closed.

It creaks open, the lock broken.

Soap's heart leaps into his throat at the site of the demolished wood on both the door and frame. He touches the dry wood, getting a splinter for his investigative efforts. The elements hadn't yet had time to smooth the damage out.

Soap raises his weapon, creeping forward through the hall. He clears the various offices, finding more broken locks, this carnage much older.

Each empty room is another failed attempt to find Ghost. So, he stops looking at them for clues and instead, the floor beneath his feet.

Brown dust coats everything. It already has settled on his blue jeans, glued there with sweat. It’s on the walls, untouched. But the floor tells a different story. What should paint a clear picture of Ghost’s solitary journey, instead shows a major disruption. It’s practically clear of dust as other people came trudging through.

Bravo 0-6. I have to go dark. I’ve got tangos in the building.

Soap follows the trail, trying to count how many people came through here, but it’s all a jumbled mess of boot prints. Could have just been a handful of people. Could have been a whole fucking squad. But Ghost could handle them, right? He’d be sitting at his perch surrounded by knifed bodies, complaining because his radio broke during the fight. Soap bites his tongue, cementing the image into his mind through pain. The hall opens up into a large office space, cleared of furniture. Like the first door, it’s completely broken in. Completely. The wooden door is flat to the ground and crooked. After that, the first thing he notices is the three bodies on the ground. One still has a knife lodged in the base of his skull, oriented upwards to stab directly into the armoured man’s brain. His sleek black helmet offered no protection to that particular spot. Soap retrieves the knife, earning himself a fresh spirt of blood. He wipes it off on his pants and sheaths it.

The fight had continued on into another room. To the right of the initial door is another one that leads into a hall identical to the first. More concerningly is the biblical smear of blood leading him exactly to the room where the fight finished.

Soap steps around it and the bodies of other well armed men wearing unmarked uniforms. Their tactical vests hadn't been protection against knives. They would have protected against bullets, if there were any guns to supply them. Nobody shows signs of ever having had a weapon.

Soap counts and additional five bodies in the hall and shoved into equally empty offices.

There are boot prints in the bright red smear beneath him. Soap takes a single step into the path then presses his foot down in an empty space, comparing the treads.

Different boots than there's. The size is close to his as well.

Not Ghost's.

He doubles back and compares the treads to the dead bodies he passed.

Every organ falls through him, hollowing him out with a silent snap of fingers. He's a silent puppet, dragged by his own remains to the single office at the end of the hall. His intestines wrap around his wrists and guide him there like a good little soldier marionette, wearing his gun on his back like a prop and dirt smeared across his face.

With a trembling hand, Soap pushes the door open, pressing his palm against a large hand-shaped smear.

The stench of fresh blood conjures familiarity like a mother's perfume. Instead of a full frontal assault, it's a creeping remembrance. The red tendrils wrap around his hands telling him, "We're here together little one. You know what this is."

Another unmarked body lies slumped against the wall, a knife lodged in his mouth. His split lip reveals his white teeth and allows his swollen tongue to peek out.

Soap's gaze moves slowly towards the centre of the room, eyeing a mountain of offal, like a gutted animal. A vest lies off to the piles left, torn off its owner through some great force.

Lying on his back is the owner of the still steaming insides. Brown eyes stare widely at the cracking ceiling, as if enraptured by the fractals of peeling plaster. Red rivulets stream across a skeletal visage quite clearly belonging to him, going off the gouge across his cheek, tearing into black fabric and dragging down across the pale skin of an exposed throat.

Soap drops to his knees, feeling along the mangled neck for a pulse.

"Ghost?" His voice cracks into silence.

There's no startled intake of breath.

There's no blinking.

Or twitching.

There's nothing.

Ghost's hands are splayed at his sides, stripped of his usual skeleton gloves. The palm of his left hand, the same one that had held Soap's shoulder a week before, as a jagged gash across it.

Ghost whips his hand up, catching the blade with his hand. The enemy soldier presses in, unintimidated. The knife slips, slicing across, missing his torso, and finding purchase into his opposite bicep. His hold on the other man slips, allowing a different knife to gouge into his cheek-

Soap grabs the hand, bringing it to rest on Ghost's still chest.

"Simon?" He sets his gun down, feeling around again for a pulse.

He doesn't let go of his hand but he does reach for his radio with bloodied fingers, "Bravo 7-2 to Bravo 0-6. We need CASEVAC."

His hand falls to his side.

"What's his status?" Price's voice crackles to life instantly.

Soap's voice does not. He fully sits on the ground, holding Ghost's hand.

He's probably having trouble breathing with the mask on. It's soaked in blood, more stifling than anything.

Soap peels the sodden balaclava up, revealing those pink uneven lips and surprisingly rounded jawline. Even the knife wound didn't ruin that.

"Soap!"

"Come on Soap." Gaz now.

Soap continues his movements, pulling it over a broken nose -

The dumb ass whips his helmeted head forward, knocking Ghost's head back. They both slam into the wall -

It hadn't had time to bruise.

If there weren’t so fucking many of them -

He reveals Ghost’s blond hair, only partially touched by gore. His hairline is stained red, but otherwise, his choppy hair is marred only by sweat. The knife had drawn across his lip, cutting across the scar already there that Soap had forgotten even existed. He’d kissed it and hadn’t even noticed it. He feels along the years old scar, tracing it along the bump across his nose. For someone who carried himself was a sharpness, every part of him was round. Even his personality, with the jokes he had ready at the drop of a hat and the smiles even his mask couldn’t hide. His eyes crinkle and there are smile lines that guide the blood down the sides of his face.

"Here." Soap pulls Simon's head onto his lap, running his fingers through his hair. "Ground isn't that comfortable."

Ghost is pinned. The fucker who'd busted his nose presses against his throat with a meaty arm, trying his damnedest to stab his knife into his face. His two friends have a hold of his arms -

Soap gathers him up until Simon's head is under his chin. He holds his chest with one hand and with the other, presses his insides back in, holding the sticky oozing mess. It wouldn't do much, but it's better than nothing until the medics arrive.

The guy on his left catches his jaw with his knife again. He jerks away, feeling the blade cut deeply into his face. It cuts across his lip (Johnny kissed him there) down his chin (where his hand had softly thumbed across) nicking his throat. Not nicking. The man slips it across, cutting into cloth and flesh alike (they were one before him). Blood explodes into his mouth, already he struggles to keep his consciousness. But he pushes. He fucking fights and spits it in their fucking faces -

“Soap.” Price’s voice isn’t on his radio anymore. Boots stop, standing next to him. “Fucking hell.” He drops next to him, his hand hovering over Simon’s chest, where Soap has been holding their hands together. He’s waiting for Simon to squeeze it back.

“We need to go.” Gaz’s voice floats towards them. That softness brings a burning wetness to his eyes. He brushes the droplets from Simon’s cheeks. “Do we…” The question lingers.

“We take him with us.” Price reaches for them both, sliding his hands underneath Simon’s shoulders. His head lulls to the side. No conscious reaction on his part. He’d have to spend some time in hospital. Bastard would be bored out of his skull.

Price lifts.

“No, no, no, no, no-”

“Gaz,” Price stops, “take care of Soap.”

“...Right.”

Soap’s friends, rip them apart. He struggles weakly as Gaz lugs him to his unsteady feet. How long had he been sitting there with Simon?

Price settles Simon on the ground and reaches for something in his pack. He pulls out a roll of white bandage. Slowly, he wraps it around the trench in his soldier’s torso. He ties the now red cloth tightly. Price picks him up, placing an arm under his armpits. Simon’s head falls to his chest and his legs hang limp. He’s so small, like a child who’d fallen asleep in the car and Price is his father, bringing him to his room because he doesn’t have the heart to wake him up.

“You’re gonna be alright, Simon.” Soap brushes his shoulder as Price walks by.

—

Simon is afraid.

Eyes wide, he chokes on his own blood. He drowns in it. It’d taken three men, but he truly couldn’t fight back anymore.

There’s no physical fight. His mind goes a million miles an hour.

He’d promised Johnny they’d go on that second date.

(A hand on his face shoves his head into the wall.)

He still hadn’t decided where he would take him.

(Ghost lodges a knife in one man’s face. Two left.)

Maybe an actual dinner. Not that beer and a shooting range were terrible.

(He kicks, knocking one attacker backwards. Ghost follows, stumbling then falling flat on his face.)

He hadn’t been on a date in a long time before him.

(He can’t move. Can’t even see anymore. But he tries. He stumbles to his feet. He meets another knife directly in his gut. It’s not the first time.)

I’m sorry, Johnny.

—

There aren’t many people at the funeral. 141, Alejandro and Rudy, Laswell and her wife, Alex and Farah.

They bury him next to his family. Soap hadn’t known about them. He would have liked to. His mom, his brother, his sister-in-law, his nephew.

There’s a photo with a wreath of flowers. He focuses on the pink carnations, yellow chrysanthemums, and white mountain avens. When Laswell had presented it at the beginning of this shitty day, Soap had laughed, a choking one, but a laugh nonetheless. Had she purposely chosen a Scottish flower to adorn Simon’s visage. And that damn picture – Price’s idea. It’s old and Soap’s never seen it before. It’s cropped from an old one where Simon stands next to price, unmasked, covered in dirt. He’d said it was from their first mission together.

Soap had taped a different picture to it. The one they’d taken in Las Almas hangs off the frame. Simon has his mask, but that’s how he’d known him.

It took three fucking days before Soap bolted up in bed and realised that he’s gone. Even now, watching a casket, paid for by everyone, sink into the ground, doesn’t seem like the truth. Gaz stands by his side, switching between talking too much and not talking at all. He’ll say something, see Soap’s face, then stop, not to speak for another hour or so. And Price, he didn’t say anything at all until a priest Simon definitely never visited steps aside. The captain coughs into his hand. Soap doesn’t hear a word of it. Everything becomes silent until Gaz touches his shoulder. “It’s your turn, mate.”

Right, he was supposed to be speaking. He squeezes the notecards in his hands. He’d written some things. Mainly curses and death threats towards Makarov and himself. He shoves them in his pocket and steps up to the front of the casket. He wipes his nose.

It’s hot as shit out. He sweats through his uniform, wearing chest candy (as Simon liked to calm them. He never wore his even though he had them). Then he adjusts his hat before ripping it off entirely and strangling it in his hands.

“I didn’t know him. None of us did. Except maybe Price,” he nods to him, finally noting the redness surrounding his eyes. He’d planned all this while Soap sat uselessly in an armchair, nursing wounds that never made themselves physical. “But I wanted to. So fucking much,” He bites his hat, failing to stifle the sob. He looks to the photo. Simon’s face, surrounded by bright flowers. He’d never known that man. He wasn’t who they were burying.

“That Friday, we were supposed to go out. Somewhere off base, we hadn’t decided.” Price’s eyes widened. He hadn’t known and they probably weren’t going to tell him and have to deal with all the red tape. Besides, what if it hadn’t gone anywhere? “But sometimes, you just know. I know I wanted to be with him just like he knew he wanted to be here, with us at the 141. And he still is,” Soap points to his breaking chest, where he’d held Simon’s head against him, “As long as we all keep fighting and loving him.”

He’s rambling. So Soap fishes out the notecards. “He’d probably want this. Not the funeral,” he gestures around, “but this. They say time flies like an arrow-” It had for them. One date and that was it. One kiss was all they got. “But fruit flies-” He chokes, coughing into his hand. Everyone watches. He clears his throat again, longing to be able to breathe properly, knowing he could only do it if his lieutenant was still here. “Fruit flies like a banana. Fucking awful.”

Soap steps forward and tucks the notecard into the lid until it disappears.

They put him in the ground after that.

Soap or Simon, he wasn’t sure.

Also shared this on my ao3 (linked above)

Edit: whoever read this when it was doubled up, I love you. I don't know how that happened but now it's fixed.

[thecandywrites]

Monster March 2024- Day 28- Cryptid

OkCryptid

Because I can't resist. I know, I'm running behind. But hopefully I'll be able to catch up.

Huge thanks to @borealwrites for their fabulous Monster March 2024 Prompt List. As well as @thetravelerwrites for their OkCryptid prompt.

Monster March 2024- Day 28- Cryptid- 

OkCryptid- Beerfest

Phoenix felt she should have gotten a shower, or at the very least, changed out of her work scrubs. But there was no way she had enough time between her late emergency clients and this date. She was honestly tired, stressed and with all the tips she got, she had enough to treat herself - even if this date didn’t show as she went straight to the bar to get the strongest, fruitiest drink. Even though this bar was currently having a beerfest. But she wasn’t a beer kind of girl but she knew she could get one hell of a drink no matter what. 

“Hey Phoenix, what can I get you?” Andy asked as he approached her. 

“I need a bahama mama, could you make her lethal please?” Phoenix requested hopefully. 

“You got it. Rough day?” He asked as he started making her the drink, putting in twice the amount of alcohol as normal. 

“Yeah, I got booked for my two emergency appointment slots tonight- on top of a full shift. And I just got matched on OkCryptid and he wanted to meet me here tonight at the last minute and I don’t have time to go home, get freshened up first or anything. I just hope my deodorant holds out.” Phoenix admitted as she nibbled on her bottom lip. 

“Well if he tries anything, or even if he stands you up, you let me know ok?” Andy urged her. 

“Absolutely, thanks.” Phoenix thanked him gratefully before he finished her drink and she slid him a 50. 

“Understood. Tell the hostess you’re a friend of Angel’s and she’ll seat you around the bar where we can keep an eye on ya. And tell your waiter or waitress that too and they’ll keep a close eye on you too.” Andy urged her. 

“Let me get you change.” Andy offered.

“No. I don’t need change, I just need your eyes. I just got a bad feeling about this- my date all but demanded that I meet him ASAP, he just came off just a tad aggressive in asking me out tonight. He said he would meet me anywhere, and pay for any dinner I wanted, and he wanted to take me to some super expensive place that I'm way underdressed for. So here tonight- even on a Friday night during a beerfest was where I'm known- was a compromise.” Phoenix explained. 

“Thank you!” She nodded as she got her drink and took a long pull, melting at the ice cold, delicious, sweet and strong drink in her mouth. 

She kept checking her phone as he sent her several messages where he swore and promised he was coming, but just needed to find a parking spot nearby because the bar was packed and people were having to park in the parking garage nearby, where she too had parked, but walked here. She waited, a few anxious minutes before her date came in, only a few minutes late, but that was ok. She needed the drink to take the edge off and hopefully this wouldn’t blow up in her face, again. 

“Here he is, wish me luck.” Phoenix offered to Andy before she left the bar with drink in hand.  

“Draven?” She asked as she came up to him with her drink once she waived and he lit up with a bright happy smile when he saw her as he tried to move through the crowded restaurant to get to her as well.  

“Hey! Phoenix, right?” He asked charmingly and a bit nervously as he offered her his hand to shake. 

“Yup. A pleasure to meet you. Sorry, I just got off work. I look like a mess, had my two emergency appointments get booked tonight. No time to go home and get ready or anything.” She offered as she gestured to her appearance. 

“Oh pffbbsh, don’t worry about it. I know it’s still spring and still the busy season. And you don’t need to get all dressed up and dolled up, you’re gorgeous just the way you are.” He tried to charm her. 

“Aww, thanks. So did you get us a reservation?” She asked. 

“Yes I did. Let’s go.” He offered as he gently ushered them through the crowd to where the hostess was telling others who were coming in, what kind of wait there was for the pub tonight, with wait times now almost being an hour long. 

“Hi, I have a reservation for two under Harrison?” He offered. 

“And I’m a friend of Angel’s.” Phoenix offered as she and the hostess exchanged a meaningful look and a nod. 

“Oh awesome. Angel’s a great friend to have isn’t she? I have your down, it’s still gonna be another 15 to 20 minutes for your table to be ready.” The hostess offered as she put a symbol next to the reservation. 

“We can wait by the bar right?” Phoenix asked. 

“Yes, absolutely, here’s your buzzer, just come back when it goes off.” She offered as she offered them the buzzer before Phoenix grabbed it with her free hand and then went back to the bar to snag two open seats next to each other.

“So what can I get you?” Andy asked as he came over to Draven. 

“What do you have on tap? Besides what's on beerfest?” Draven asked before Phoenix slid the beer menu over to him once he gave the flyer a dismissive glance. Granted, it was for sour beers, which she didn’t care for either. 

“I’ll take a pint of….ooh, a toasted macadamia nut stout.” Draven offered before Andy nodded and poured the beer for him. 

“So why did you want to meet me tonight? And not tomorrow?” Phoenix asked. 

“Because I had plans for my other nights and this was the only one that opened up at the last minute.” Draven answered. 

“I see.” Phoenix nodded as she sipped her drink. 

“That busy for you too huh?” She offered. 

“Yes! It’s been crazy busy, but my friend is wanting to do a group date thing tomorrow night actually, and I don’t have anyone and I really don’t want to ask any of the girls in the office because office romances rarely ever work out. Like I know with shows like The Office and Parks and Rec and pffbbbshh, just about every other cast show, that’s like a big deal but in real life? It tends to be on par with nuclear disasters, at least in my experience. So, yeah, I really just didn’t want to go and risk being set up with anyone’s girlfriend’s friend? Because then it’s just really awkward for everyone too because especially if there’s nothing there between you, you’re both there because you’re friends with the involved party and you’re just counting down the minutes until it’s over and I’ve done that too many times to count now and I don’t even take my chances with that anymore. So, sorry if I came off as needy or pushy or demanding or anything, I’m just in a bind with this. But I really didn’t want to get set up on a blind pity date again.” He confessed. 

“Right, so when your evening opened up, you took your chances with OkCryptid instead?” She concluded as she nodded in understanding. Ok that made sense as her inner alarm started to ease just a tad. 

“Yup. I’ll trust an algorithm over sheer, blind luck any day. And with you just putting your profile up on OkCryptid and with you working at The Velvet Spa, I knew I needed to take my chances and shoot my shot sooner than later before you get snatched off the market because single girls in there, don’t stay single for long, like barely a day, a week at the absolute most.” Draven reasoned. 

“I guess that makes sense.” Phoenix nodded slowly again. 

“So, are you just looking to date a Velvet Spa girl period or…?” Phoenix asked suspiciously. 

“Sorry, that came off really wrong. It’s not a fetish, I swear, I was just happy we matched, you- doing the work you do is just a huge bonus because you’re used to working with clients who are anything other than human most of the time. And with OkCryptid, it’s more for “other” kinds of people, but obviously, a lot of humans will use it as something of a fetish too.” He clarified. 

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense. So, are you a client there?” She asked. 

“Oh of course.” He confirmed as she lowkey put his name into the system to hopefully bring up his client file so she would know more than just what his own profile stated. But his client profile didn’t really offer much more either, just his service history. 

“So, is your friend dating someone at The Velvet Spa too?” Phoenix asked thoughtfully. 

“Yes, River.” He confirmed. 

“Oh! So you’re a friend of Rane’s.” She realized. 

“Oh, are you a friend of hers?” Draven asked hopefully. 

“Uh, no. I don’t know her that well because I only know her at work, we don’t really hang out much outside of work. I’m new and still learning everyone. I only overheard her say Rane’s name in the breakroom, but I was just in there getting more supplies when I heard it. She wasn’t even talking to me. That’s about it. It’s the busy season, we’re in the trenches and practically still in the weeds. And will be for at least the next week or two then things will start to calm down.” Phoenix admitted. 

“Ah shucks, I was hoping you knew her so you could tell me if Rane got a good one or not. He’s one of my oldest friends and I’ve seen him go through the ringer a few times. And I was just hoping River would be the settling down type.” He snapped his fingers. 

“Sorry, I don’t really know River, so I can’t really say one way or another. I mean I always wish for the best and for things to work out for others in general.” She offered a small shrug. 

“Oh of course.” He nodded in agreement. 

“So, are you new to the area too?” He asked. 

“Yup. I got headhunted straight out of school by Maddison and the others on maternity leave because the girls on maternity leave, still need work done themselves and Bianca not only reimburses it, but it’s a way for them to- keep working I guess, even while on leave. Which is why I think half the staff always seems to be on maternity leave. Bianca even has a wing, especially dedicated to those who are on and off maternity leave. Which is really nice.” She noted. 

“But you must be really good to be headhunted like that.” He ventured. 

“Well, I would say I’m average for a newbie.” She chuckled a bit. 

“My class just graduated only two weeks ago. I started training even before I fully graduated because the way they teach us things in school and the way Bianca does things is slightly different. Actually Bianca does things better and to a standard that’s well above any and every State and Federal Medical Board and she runs that Spa as if every client is an inspector and keeps us practically in a constant state of readiness. And she makes sure all of us are ready for when and if the board does a surprise inspection. And I was lucky that my clients followed me from the school’s clinic to The Velvet Spa, even though, most go to the school clinic because it’s much cheaper and easier to get in there than it is to the spa. But, with the school clinic, it’s still a blind grab bag because you could get a first, second or third semester student. But I live like, an hour away, just outside the city. So it’s a long drive, but so far, it’s been well worth it. There’s little towns with little beauty salons that others go to. But the client density is way smaller out there and barely enough to fill a part timer’s hours. But with Bianca not only offering full time hours with full time pay, but with benefits to boot which in this industry- is a rarity.” She offered. 

“Oh, so do you know Dove?” He asked hopefully. 

“Yes! Dove I know. She was in the class ahead of me. And she even vouched for me to get the position in the first place.” Phoenix nodded. 

“Well, she is supposed coming too with my friend Finley, so at least you’d know someone if you went with me to the thing tomorrow.” He supplied. 

“Yeah I would. So you work with Finley and Rane? Because I know they are working on a project together but from two separate companies.” Phoenix recalled. 

“In a way, yeah, I work in financing and I’ve helped with the financing on their various projects.” He offered. 

“Oh, that’s nice.” Phoenix nodded. 

“So what’s this thing tomorrow?” Phoenix asked. 

“Oh Rane wanted a group dating- thing at this really nice teppanyaki restaurant, it’s called Sakura Fuji. And they invited me and others that are in on the project and some of them are married and others already have girlfriends or whatever but I was the only one without a partner. And I didn’t want to chance any of them- putting stress on their new relationships- trying to ask their girlfriends to get a friend of theirs to come be my date for it, because again, bad experiences with that in the past. And this time, I just kind of went out on a limb and you’re practically my hail miracle.” He offered. 

“And what time would it be at?” Phoenix asked. 

“Oh I think it’s at 6. Six or seven.” He answered. 

“Ok, that sounds fun. I’ve only been to like a hibachi place before, so that’s kind of similar right?” She mused. 

“Yeah, practically the same thing, just a lot nicer with much better ingredients.” He expounded. 

“Well, in that case, I’m looking forward to it.” Phoenix grinned as she gave Andy the ‘I’m good’ grin and subtle hand motion just as the buzzer went off

[anogete]

Final Update on Mercy Show to Me (Dramione)

Mercy Show to Me is done! Or at least the first draft is complete. I need to do a preliminary edit of the final 4 chapters so they can be passed along to my betas. Tomorrow and Monday will be spent doing a second edit of the first half with their notes/feedback. @feistygina, @oftypewritersandribbons, and @storieswhispered have been amazing at trying to keep up with me dropping 20-30k words on them at a time when they have lives to live. I appreciate you all so much.

I'll begin posting next week, probably on the 20th or 21st, depending on how the editing goes. To avoid making myself insane, I'm going to promise updates at least every other day. I may go through periods where I will post one chapter a day, but I'm not going to promise to maintain that pace. I'm trying to learn how to (sometimes, maybe, occasionally, now-and-then) put my mental health first.

It'll be about 115k, 24 chapters, rated E, slow burn, and takes place 20 years after the Battle of Hogwarts. The entire fic will be posted by the end of March if you're one of those readers who prefers to wait. However, I'd love for you to read along with me as I post since it's fun to read our comments and reactions as I'm also doing my final edit before I post each chapter.

And if you want a snippet to whet your appetite, then here you go. The following page is from chapter 3:

“I’m just going to grab a coffee,” she murmured, looking at his chest instead of his face. His hair looked like it had been styled this morning, but he’d mussed it up and then tried to smooth it back down. The result was much more devastatingly attractive than what he’d probably intended before he left his home. “I’ll get it. What would you like?” Hermione looked up to meet his gaze now. “It’s fine. I can–” “I insist,” he murmured, dropping his gaze to the floor for a moment before looking at her face again. Why was he nervous? He’d been very nearly flirty at the Quidditch match. Not that she would ever think Draco Malfoy would flirt with her, but if it had been anyone else then she’d have wondered. Instead of making things more tense, she acquiesced. “Okay. Well, could I have a flat white?” “Of course. Please have a seat. I’ll be right back.” His long strides carried him over to the counter where orders were placed. She watched his broad shoulders as he paid and shuffled down to the end to wait for the drinks. The urge to pull out the three medical records was strong, but she didn’t want to hit him with her research before she had a chance to feel out what the situation was. A misstep could have him pulling back from her just as quickly as their odd reconnection had happened over the past couple of weeks. Instead, she waited patiently for him to return, her hands folded on the table. She could smell his cologne when he slid back across from her with two cups–one for him and one for her. She couldn’t help but notice his drink was a caramel mocha latte. It made her smile. “What is it?” he asked, noticing her expression. “I didn’t realize you have a sweet tooth,” she said, gesturing to his cup. He gave her a closed-lip smile that seemed forced. “I’m full of surprises.” Instead of doing what she’d told herself to do when she’d sat down in front of her mirror to apply makeup, she opened her mouth and jumped right in. And instead of slowing down and letting him talk first like she’d convinced herself she should while changing her outfit three bloody times before settling on a dark green jumper with black trousers, she went straight for the reason she’d agreed to this meeting. “Look, I know you invited me here to apologize, but there’s really no need.” She watched his face fall before he composed himself into a look of disinterest. “I forgave you ages ago, Malfoy. It’s been twenty years for Merlin’s sake.” “Can I–” he started before cutting himself off, his jaw tight. She watched him run the long fingers of his right hand over his smooth jawline and chin before leaning forward to prop his elbow up on the tabletop. “Look, just let me… let me say what I want to say. Please?”

[bookwyrminspiration]

hello my lovely loveliest dearest favorite quil <333 I have finally actually returned with a slight rebrand and many tales to tell.

How are you bestie!!! I missed you So SO much and it's literally so rude that I can't send you all of the things that make me think of you. Like I swear my partner is gonna be jealous at this point because I'm literally like omg I literally need to show this to quil. It is a necessity. (If you're wondering it was a hoodie that had the classic university logo and said Silly Goose University and I decided that we needed them to match with our friendship bracelets.)

Anyway I am eyeing your new writing up very very closely and am itching to go to Ao3 and read ALL of it. (The urge is quite strong now that I have started Thinking about it, however this ask is taking long enough bc I have to take Wiggle™ breaks because holy bestie I am SO happy to talk to you once again.)

Speaking of your writing I was struck with the most incredible fantastic amazing art idea after looking at some of my old wings AU doodles. However, my drawing tablet went through the shredder (<- Puppy) I have to WAIT. To give the full idea justice but trust me bestie I'm so excited to show it to you.

Anyway I've been extra ramble-y but HI HOW ARE YOU I MISSED YOU WHAT IS GOING ON WITH YOUR LIFE.

I'd love all of your thoughts and feelings and I miss you and ily and I'm so happy like I kid you not this ask has taken. So much effort because I cannot sit still writing this to you. I have. The Dumbest Smile on my face. <3333333

(Please note that this ask is meant to be read as if I am laying on your bed kicking my feet in the air while excitedly talking, thank you 😌)

TOBI!!!! I was just thinking about you the other day!! My dad and I were watching Labyrinth for the first time in a while, and when I realized the baby's name was Toby (i'd forgotten) I just went...ah..Tobi...I hope he's doing well...

I'm doing alright! I've been very busy this semester, and we are approaching finals so it's probably only going to get busier soon. But! This has been my first semester mostly in person in a very long time! And I'm officially fully in uni rather than dual credit, so I'm somewhere else now and have met SO many people. Actually am planning to meet up with one of them tomorrow to go to a restaurant/museum for class! And to watch a few movies with two others sometime soon.

lots of reflections on that because relationships of all kinds have been. rather difficult my whole life, so we'll see what happens here! also would 100% wear some silly goose university hoodies with you <3. move aside tobi's partner I need to glue BOTH of his hands to mine. forever

Also!! If you read my fics I'll love you forever and ever and ever even more. This new titz one has been sitting for several months, but I finally pulled it back out! And I am rather nervous about it because Fitz and Tam are both particular characters, and so combining them just makes them even harder to write. and THEN! throwing in Fitz's Alvar feelings makes that EVEN MORE difficult. but! it was also an absolute delight to work on so I hope you like it :)

and holy shit wings au art!!! i trust you so much I am so excited to see it--and don't worry about however long it takes! wings au is years in the writing, i've got experience with patience. wait btw, I don't know if you're aware, but I'm attempting to post the epilogue soon! I have the rough draft and the anniversary is coming up, so I'm hoping to have it edited to post on the ending's anniversary. it's a little over a week away, but also finals are descending AND its nano, so we'll see what happens. it WILL be out by the end of the year for certain though (and during october I went through and re-edited the whole thing for grammar and details--it's ridiculous how many its it's mistakes there were because i KNEW the difference. i'd just autopilot do one or the other and not catch it in my quick edits)

I keep pausing to do little claps and stim because. tobi!!! it's so so cruel we can't lay in bed kicking our feet together, i have missed you so so so much! what has been up with YOU? how has your life been? what's up with the blog migration--if you want to talk about it. also totally cool to simply accept it and move on. i just like talking to you and it's very nice to see you again :)

[nolanhollogay]

where did you come from ?

chadtateethan love triangle but not really bcuz ethan made that shit up in his head !! also chadtate being in love and vaguely hornknee about it

+

Tate would like it to be known that he wasn't a party person. Or he wasn't in the past at least. During high school he hadn't had the same rose colored glasses as his peers about getting wasted on the worst alcohol imaginable full of people you would have to see the next day in your AP English class.

Honestly, he wasn't into parties until a month or so ago, the trauma connected to the last party he went to enough to deter him.

But Chad was persuasive and he convinced him to go to a party a friend of a friend was throwing and one thing led to another, and now Tate mostly enjoyed parties.

Probably because he and Chad used it as an excuse to make out – not that they usually needed an excuse – but that was neither here nor there.

As expected, they were pressed together, in one of the corners of the basement of some frat house Tate only half remembered the name of. Delta something. Or Zeta maybe?

Chad pulled away from their kiss, sliding his hands from Tate's back to his waist. "I missed you today."

Tate snorted. "You woke up next to me."

"Yeah but," Chad kissed his jaw, making Tate shiver, "I didn't get to see you all day after that. I missed you ranting about how everyone in Prof Crane's class is derivative, and performative, and some other -ive."

Tate was too distracted by his lips moving down his throat to be offended at being teased.

"Chad."

Both of them jumped out of their skin, and Tate reflexively reached for the knife he kept in his pocket, before he realized who it was.

"Jesus fuck, Ethan," Chad said, releasing Tate's waist to press his hand to his chest, feeling his presumably erratic heartbeat. "Where did you come from? You can't just sneak up on people!"

Ethan pouted, looking like a scolded child. "Sorry." He ran his fingers through his curls. "You just said you'd walk me home when I was ready to leave."

"You're ready to leave already? We just got here," Chad said, more concerned than annoyed because he was a good person. Tate, on the other hand, was less than pleased.

Ethan shrugged. "It's been half an hour. But I guess you didn't notice because you ditched me as soon as he–" He waved a hand in Tate's direction, "–showed up."

He said it as if it was a joke, but Tate could still hear the bitterness he was trying to mask, and fought the urge to roll his eyes.

Chad uncurled himself from Tate, turning to Ethan, face apologetic. "Sorry bro. Didn't mean to leave you out."

Ethan stood straighter, smiling wide, as soon as Chad's attention was on him. "It's okay. I just.. You'll still walk with me, right?"

Chad nodded. "Yeah, it's no problem." He turned to Tate, looping a finger in his belt loop. "Wanna come with?"

Ethan's face crumpled over his shoulder.

Tate shrugged. "Might as well. Safer in numbers."

Chad whooped, because he was a huge loser. "That's my boy!"

If possible, Ethan managed to frown even deeper. "I have to go find my coat. I'll meet you outside."

Tate waited until he was gone, watching him retreat up the steps basically stomping, to say, "He wants to bang you so bad, and he hates me so much."

Chad rolled his eyes, though the action was full of affection, a hint of a smile on his lips. "You keep saying that, but I don't understand why. He's just my friend. Not everyone who's friendly wants to fuck me. You have nothing to worry about."

"I know. I'm not threatened by him. I'm just stating a fact. He hates me because I'm stopping him from fucking you," Tate shrugged. "It's not my problem."

"You're ridiculous," Chad said fondly, pressing a kiss to his cheekbone. "Let's go before a strong gust of wind knocks him over or something."

[ceterisparibus116]

Do you have a song that makes you think about Matt & Ella?

Okay I have such an embarrassing answer: no, I didn't, until I got this ask and started thinking about it! (Which is weird from me. As you can probably tell from the Ella series, I'm obsessed with songs.)

But thank you for this ask because it made me sit down and think about it, and I found these two!

Look, any song where the singer is pleading with someone else not to face something alone will always get me in the feels. But this song also has a few specific lines that make me think of Matt and Ella, especially:

I know it hurts so bad just trying To please the ones you hate to love

Overall, I think the song is about two people who have been through something similar, but are at different places of healing. The subject of the song is still in the grip of it, and can't see clearly through the pain, and is afraid of being vulnerable again for fear it will hurt again. The singer of the song understands this and isn't telling the other person that they're wrong to feel that way, but is simply urging them to let others walk alongside them through the pain.

The other song that gives me major Matt and Ella feels is:

This song is about the Enneagram Type Eight (which is Ella - and Matt definitely has some Eight elements too). This song is about how the instinctual response to abuse and rejection for many people is to shut yourself off and fear vulnerability, and finding the faith and courage to eventually let others in.

It's had to pick a line that I love most. The whole song is perfect. But here are a few favorite lines:

I want to break these bones 'til they're better I want to break them right and feel alive

Both Matt and Ella have this drive to fight for others and to fix injustice, and that's not an inherently bad thing, but they both have to learn to appreciate their limitations and let others help them.

When I see fragile things, helpless things, broken things I see the familiar

Both Matt and Ella are so, so compassionate, not solely due to what they've experienced, but partly due to it. They're deeply attuned to the brokenness in others, and driven by desperate protectiveness.

I'm standing guard, I'm falling apart And all I want is to trust you Show me how to lay my sword down For long enough to let you through

Here I am, pry me open What do you want to know? I'm just a kid who grew up scared enough To hold the door shut And bury my innocence But here's a map, here's a shovel Here's my Achilles' heel

I'm all in, palms out I'm at your mercy now and I'm ready to begin I am strong, I am strong, I am strong enough to let you in

Yeah, I'm basically just quoting the whole song at this point, but gosh, read this. These lines capture the courage and strength it takes to be vulnerable. I also think it captures the fact that the other person has to work at it too. "Show me how to lay my sword down" and "pry me open" are commands that the other person step in and help them figure out how to be vulnerable. "Here's a map, here's a shovel" implies how effort it takes on the other side.

I'ma shake the ground with all my might And I will pull my whole heart up to the surface For the innocent, for the vulnerable And I'll show up on the front lines with a purpose

And I'll give all I have, I'll give my blood, give my sweat An ocean of tears will spill for what is broken I'm shattered porcelain, glued back together again Invincible like I've never been

AAAAAA.

Okay, I'm calm again.

These lines show how healing isn't satisfied just when a wounded person finds the courage to be vulnerable. Healing comes full circle when the once-wounded person is able to turn around and stand up for others.

For Matt and Ella, they try to skip straight to that last step. They want to protect others before they know how to let themselves be protected by others.

But once they learn to let others in and let others help them, then they have the clarity and support that makes them able to give everything out of a place of healing.

Anon, thank you so much for this ask! I love you!

[casspurrjoybell-21]

Pirate Chains - Volume 1 - Strong Tides

*Warning Adult Content*

Chapter 30 - Omen - Part 1

Nyx

The incarnation of grumpiness met me with its eternal scowl.

"You take too many days off boy."

"Apologies for being late. There's no excuse..."

"Oh I'd be happy to give you an excuse. I can provide your highness with a nice beating that'll give you a long and peaceful rest for eternity," Baril said while pointing his big knife to my face.

The knife wasn't even clean. I tilted my head back to keep as far from it as possible and smiled awkwardly.

"No need, I'm here now. I'll assist with lunch. You look like you need tomatoes? I'll get you tomatoes," I declared and immediately hurried to the storage room.

I was being reprimanded and it was all Agenor's fault. I told him I'd be in trouble but he did as he pleased. The brute ignored me and went all the way. God, I could feel my knees weaken just from remembering it.

'His smirk, his cocky smile, his sexy body, the look he gave me when he was wanted something or when satisfied, the way he teased me, the taste of his lips over mine.'

"Where are the bloody tomatoes. Are you fucking growing them now?"

I apologized, again and tried to focus on my tasks the best I could. Which was barely enough because Baril was a fountain of ideas when it came to giving me things to do. I was cutting some vegetables when I heard a scoff.

"Morning Captain."

I raised my eyes and saw Agenor leaning on the side of the door. His eyebrow arched and his lips tugged to the side showing the most playful smirk. My most natural reaction was to smile at him. His presence had an odd effect at making me feel better and as much as I hated to admit it, safer. Baril cleared his throat and I barely kept myself from rolling my eyes as I went back to chopping the miserable vegetables.

"You're early captain, I guess the heat of the day got to your cabin."

"Aye, it was quite heated alright."

I felt his words and gaze directed at me. I didn't want Baril to take notice of my blushing cheeks, so I didn't dare look up. We prepared lunch while Agenor took a chair beside the door of the galley and kept chatting with Baril about all and nothing. Hearing his voice talking, making jokes and laughing at Baril's stories of the past, it was bliss. He sounded calm, sleepy even. No wonder, he usually woke up after everyone else. Now that I thought about it, he was the laziest pirate on this ship. That thought made me smile, our eyes met and he smiled back at me.

'Like I said, bliss'.

Sometimes they'd include me in their pleasantries and I gladly joined their conversation. Baril seemed very relaxed and happy taking the time to talk to his captain, his sour mood magically disappeared. Soon others joined us, talking, laughing and telling stories. The galley and the hall were so noisy and full that I decided to leave the cleaning till after lunch. I carried the wooden plates to the large room where the crew usually had their meals. I grabbed the large boiling cauldron when two pirates approached me.

The first one Jay, real name Jerry Mockren, winked at me and I kept an emotionless face despite cringing from the inside. Then him and Mern, who was known among his fellow pirates as Armpits, rushed to take the cauldron from my hands and bring it to the couple of tables in the middle of the room. I let them argue over it and carried two apple buckets. Baril joined me and started serving lunch for the hungry wolves and I took the chance to go back and clean the galley a little. I was sweeping when Agenor walked in and came behind me. He leaned over my shoulder and asked discreetly...

"How's your back?"

I tried my best to hide my embarrassment.

"I'm fine, no thanks to you."

He laughed and put his hand on mine and pushed the broom away.

"After all the effort you made to prepare lunch, the least you deserve is to eat it warm."

I turned to glare at him. But his genuine concerned smile wiped my every will to complain.

"Come on," he urged gently.

So I rolled my eyes, dropped the broom and followed him. The day had been pleasant beyond just lunchtime. Agenor had been sticking by my side all day, which I enjoyed but it was unusual to see him so attentive. However, having him nearby meant no pirate dared to order me around or hand me their tasks. Instead, they offered to help with whatever I was doing, seemingly without ulterior motives. They were most probably trying to impress Agenor. Therefore, surprisingly, my workload was light that day, and I even had a few hours of free time in the afternoon. I took advantage of the beautiful weather and spent some time in the sun.

Despite Agenor's concerned looks, I climbed up the shrouds to the top of the main mast to join Maren in the crow's nest. From there, I enjoyed the breathtaking view of the vast, clear skies and the soft breeze that brushed against my skin. For a moment, I felt completely liberated from the dangers of the world below. I stopped listening to Maren's endless chatter and just absorbed the peacefulness of the moment. It was as if I had never been more free. Agenor's call jolted me out of my daze, urging me to descend from my perch. Although I obeyed reluctantly, the evening turned out to be quite enjoyable.

As night fell, Agenor settled on the upper step of the stairs that led to the quarterdeck and began to drink. It was the signal for a party to begin. Drinking games, singing and clumsy dancing ensued. Observing the pirates, I realized that they did not seem as menacing around their captain. Rather, they were a group of unrefined men, laughing boisterously and disrupting the tranquility of the calm sea. I sat a couple of steps down, lost in my thoughts, when Agenor shifted his weight and brushed his knee with my arm. It was quite odd for me that such a minuscule contact, made feel a little flattered by the attention.

Despite being offered drink after drink, I only took a sip of each, wary of making a spectacle of myself. I did not wish to repeat a drunken episode. Instead, I handed the unwanted drinks to Ace, who lay at arm's reach above the ship's edge, consuming alcohol with abandon. His eyes closed and his arm hanging limply, Ace was a man of few words. Occasionally, he chuckled at a joke but otherwise, he remained silent. When he wanted another drink, he would extend his arm without opening his eyes or uttering a word and someone would provide him with the liquid he craved. If I had an excess drink in my hand, I would simply touch the cold cup to his inert hand and he would immediately take it, downing it like water.